Author's Note: This is by request
Background: This is based on the TV show "7th Heaven" which airs on the WB Network in the US. It's about a family where the father is a minister; a "wholesome", family-type show. While there are five kids in the family, the only one who matters for this story is the Simon, the 12 year old son. He's played by David Gahlager, a popular young actor who was also in the movie "Phenomenon" with John Travolta. The whole show seems like a throwback to the fifties; mother in the kitchen, clean-cut kids, that sort of thing. Of course, they don't show spanking. Why not? If they want the show to be realistic, they could do something like this:
* * * * *
Simon Camden sat in the church pew and listened to his father preach. His mother was on one side of him and his bossy older brother Eric was on the other. His three sisters filled up the rest of the front pew and all were paying close attention. All in all, Simon had to say his Dad was a good preacher. Rarely did Simon find himself bored during the sermon, at least when his Dad was the one giving it. Where there was a guest speaker, there was a fair chance of boredom, but it was no big deal.
Today's sermon was on honesty. His father was explaining how Jesus never lied, even when asked the very tough question on weather or not one should pay taxes. Simon had always considered Jesus' "render unto Caesar" comment very smooth and clever. His father mixed biblical examples with ones from his everyday life, but he never let the audience know that these were real stories about his family. Simon and his siblings appreciated their Dad's sensitivity. No-one wanted their sins held up in public as examples.
It wasn't cool to say and so Simon would never admit it, but he liked going to church. The fact that they were Methodists probably had something to do with it; no fire and brimstone, no groups of people "getting the spirit" and lurching around, no preachers trying to make them feel guilty just for having thoughts. Methodists are probably the most undemonstrative sect of Christians, and this suited Simon fine. Everything was ordered, clean and neat just like his family life. There were few surprises at home; Mom could be counted on to keep the house running smoothly, Dad was always there when he needed him and Eric, while a bit of a pain, helped keep Simon in line. His sisters could be a nuisance, but sometimes they were nice to have around, too.
There was communion today as well. Simon wasn't old enough to take communion yet, he'd have to wait a year or two, but sometimes he sneaked in the back after the service and drank the left over grape juice. (Methodists, of course, don't believe in drinking alcohol.)
Simon watched the line of people as they headed to the alter to take the sacrament when he recognized a face he didn't see in Church very often. It was Mr. King, his math teacher. What was he doing here? Simon could only remember him coming on Christmas and Easter. Mr. King caught him staring and Simon turned his face away with a guilty flush on his cheeks. Oh, how he hoped the busybody wouldn't talk to his Dad! Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. King turn back towards the alter. Good, let him forget he even saw Simon.
After communion, the congregation sang the last hymn and his father made his way to the door to greet people as they came out. Often Simon tried to rush out to go and play, but he didn't want Mr. King to notice him, so he held back. He watched and all his teacher did was shake his father's hand and walk out. Safe! The man hadn't said anything. Simon made his way nonchalantly to the car. His mother and siblings got inside and turned on the a/c, waiting for Mr. Camden to finish saying good-bye and join them. After about ten more minutes, he came over and got in the driver's seat. As they drove home they chatted about the service and who had been there.
"Boy, I haven't seen Andrew King in church for ages," his mother suddenly said. "What brought him out, I wonder."
"I spoke to him," his Dad said as Simon suddenly tensed up, "His mother is in the hospital and he asked me to say a prayer for her, so I did."
"Oh, that's sweet," his Mom responded. "I hope she gets better."
"I don't think it's too serious," Dad replied as Simon relaxed again. He had nearly wet himself just then. There was more small talk, and then they were home.
"So, what's for lunch?" Dad asked as they walked in the door.
"Vegetable lasagna," his mother replied as she went over to the stove.
"Again!?" All five children chimed in with this. She seemed a bit startled but stared them all down.
"You're welcome to cook something for yourself if you don't like what I've made," she said in a level voice. Of course, that ended that. The two older girls went to help their mother in the kitchen and Simon went to feed Happy, the family dog. When he was done, he went up to his room to change. He had no real problem wearing a tie to Church, but he saw no advantage to keeping it on longer than necessary. No sooner had he hung up his sports coat and kicked off his shoes before his Dad came in to the room.
"Simon," Dad said as he came and sat on the bed next to him, "Did you listen to my sermon today?"
"Yes, Dad," Simon replied with a sinking feeling. "It was about honesty."
"Well, with that in mind, do you have anything you want to tell me?"
Simon's face fell. He was caught. But how could have Mr. King said anything to his Dad? He had only passed by on the way out, he didn't even stop. But wait a minute, how could Dad know that Mr. King's mother was sick? That must mean that they had spoken before church and so he must have told Dad that....
Simon's hands were shaking and he crossed them in his lap. There was no use trying to bluff his way out. Dad was sitting there patiently, waiting for him to confess to something they both knew all about.
"Um, last week in math class....," Simon said in a small voice, "I, ah, got in trouble with a couple of the other guys. Mr. King sent us to the Principal's office."
"What were you doing that got you sent out of class?" his father pressed.
"Mr. King had to leave class to answer a phone call. We were kind of....throwing wads of paper and erasers around the class. I had just thrown my eraser at Dave Guy when Mr. King opened the door. Dave ducked and it hit Mr. King in the chest. He sent me, Dave and Paulie out."
"What else now?" his father prompted when he paused. "Come on, I want to hear it all. You're already in serious trouble, don't make it any worse for yourself."
"The Principal chewed us out and told us not to do it again. Then he gave us all demerits and told us to behave better. Then he sent us back to class."
"Now Simon, what is the rule in this house about getting in trouble in school?"
"If we get in any trouble in school, we have to tell you or Mom that same day. No excuses," Simon recited.
"Now you didn't just get in trouble, you got demerits. So how come you didn't say anything to either of us?"
Simon shrugged his shoulders. Tears were already forming in his eyes and his voice had failed. He knew what was coming, it was just a matter of how bad it would be. From the sound of it, pretty bad.
"Dishonesty isn't just about telling lies, Simon," his father lectured. "Sometimes not telling something you're supposed to is the same as lying. That's what you did and that's what I have to punish you for. You know the punishment for lying?"
Simon nodded his head miserably. He hoped he wasn't going to be made to say it out loud, because he would never get the words out. Fortunately, he was spared that.
"Stand up, then," his father said in a firm voice. Simon saw that he was already undoing his belt.
"Take off your pants, Simon," came the next order. Simon's shoes were already off, so when he had unfastened them, he let them drop to his ankles and he stood out of them. Now he was only wearing his shirt, tie, socks and white underpants.
"Don't just leave your good pants laying in a heap on the floor, Simon," his Dad said with a touch of impatience beginning to show in his voice, "Hang them up properly."
With fumbling hands, he picked up his pants and somehow got them over a hanger. He was torn between taking as long as he could to delay his punishment and doing it quickly to get the inevitable over with. He turned away from the closet to face his father again. Mr. Camden was standing there with the belt doubled over in his hand.
"Now your underpants," he said. Simon's heart sank lower that he thought possible. Bare bottom spankings were reserved for the most serious offenses. He knew that lying was high on his Dad's list of sins, but he hadn't expected this.
"Please, Daddy, no," he pleaded.
"You know better than to try and change my mind about this, Simon," his Dad said in an even voice. "Dishonesty is something that I'm not prepared to put us with in any form. I need to drive that lesson home to you, and so I'm going to spank you bare. Quit stalling and take them off."
Mr. Camden's voice was steady and calm, but Simon could hear the iron determination underneath it. There would be no reprieve. With tears of regret rolling down his sweet face, he reached for his briefs. He slid them down his thighs and down past his knees. When they got to his feet, he stepped out of them and carefully put them on the bed. At this point, neatness was unlikely to be worth many points, but it was all he could think to try.
Mr. Camden had gone to the end of the bunk bed and rested a pillow over the wooden endboard.
"Come over here," he said and Simon walked over. The fact that he was naked was not a source of embarrassment. His father didn't consider nudity to be a sin and so he had not passed that hang-up on to his kids. But the knowledge that this was a prelude to a spanking made Simon very aware of his nudity. With his little _d_i_c_k_ and balls hanging out, he felt especially vulnerable.
"Simon, if Mr. King hadn't come to church today, I would have never heard about this and would have never been spanked for it. But these things have a way of coming back to haunt us and sooner or later you would have had to answer for it. Your sin will always find you out. Now I'm sorry about this, but your own actions are the cause of it. Bend over."
Simon ducked under the top bunk and put his hands on the bed. His tie was still hanging from his neck, half in the air and half resting on the mattress. His tummy was resting on the pillow and his _d_i_c_k_ dangled freely over the edge. The tail of his shirt was hanging down providing at least some cover to the top of his bottom. But then he was denied even that. His father put his hand on his sides and pushed his shirt up his back and bunched it under his arms. Now Simon was totally exposed and the tears dropped from his eyes making two damp spots on the blanket. As he heard his father getting into his final position, he started making a high-pitched moan.
The belt whistled on its way to first contact, WHACK!
Simon screeched in pain as the belt left a red stripe across his milky white butt. Mr. Camden drew back and spanked his son again, WHACK!
This was below the other one, just catching the underside of his bottom where his plump boycheeks met his things, and the stinging nerves telegraphed a message of agony to his brain.
The next blow caught him on his upper bottom, on the area that had so recently been covered by his shirt. There was no protection there now, the supple leather cut into his naked skin at the top of his crack, WHACK!
Simon wailed in anguish as the strapping continued; the belt licking into his naked butt with unrestrained fury. The burning, stinging pain was all he could think about as the beating continued. His rear was red hot, but still his dad was not done. Four more hard blows descended on the middle of his upturned cheeks before it was over.
He realized his father had stopped and he pulled himself further up on the bed then reached back and desperately rubbed his hot little asscheeks, trying to bring some small amount or relief to them. He did this for a full minute and then his dad sat down on the bed.
"Stop that for a moment, Simon and sit up next to me," he said.
Simon moved over and sat next to his dad on the side of the bed. Mr. Camden put his arm around the boy and hugged his half-naked son.
"Simon," he said, "You know I don't like having to do that. I'm sorry it was necessary, but you do understand the rules."
"I know, Dad, I'm sorry," Simon sniffed.
"Anyway, your slate is clean now. As soon as you're ready, come on down for lunch."
Mr. Camden gave his son another squeeze then got up and left the room. Simon sat there for a while longer, feeling sorry for himself and embarrassed at the fact that everyone in the family would know that he had been spanked. Eventually, however, his hunger got the better of him and he stood up. He took off his dress shirt and tie and put on some more casual clothes. Hoping to make the red in his eyes less noticeable, he splashed water on his face. Brushing his blonde hair off of his forehead, he inspected his face in the mirror. There was some puffiness under his eyes and his cheeks were a bit flushed, but it would not be obvious that he had been crying. Of course, this was kind of pointless; surely all of his siblings had heard his loud yelps as well as the unmistakable sound of the belt connecting with his naked butt but he did have his dignity to maintain. At least he knew that none of them would have the nerve to tease him about it at the table with Dad around. If he got away fast enough after the meal, he could escape them at least until tonight. With some of his dignity restored, he went down to lunch.