This is a true account of discipline I recently received (previously posted under the author name "Kevin" - my new author name is "Spike_172")
I arrived at Dad's house at 1:30 P. M. We sat on the front porch swing, as it seems that this has become the tradition, and talk about what we have done in the previous two weeks. Then I was given some preliminary instructions on what to do to begin the punishment. I must tell you that I want and need real hard discipline and this is what Dad gives me. We both understand that this is what I seek and need. After our discussion, Dad told me to go the side of the house to the garage, go inside, close and lock the door. Then I was to remove all of my clothes except my white jockey shorts, blindfold myself, place handcuffs on my wrists in the front. Once completed I was to lay face down on a blanket on the floor and await his arrival.
He went inside, then I went to the garage door. As I was closing it, I had already begun to tremble at the thought of all that was about to happen. I slowly took off my sneakers, then my white socks. I could feel the cold cement of the garage floor against my bare feet. Then I took off my t-shirt and next my jeans. I was finally down to my jockeys. I placed the blindfold on, then the handcuffs and layed face down as I had been instructed. I waited, breathing heavily and shaking for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, I heard the door to the house open, and Dad's voice. I was given a short lecture then told to stand. Dad led me carefully into the house and into his work room, next to the garage. He stopped me and told me to place my hand out and feel his crotch. I did. It was hard, no doubt. As Dad was talking to me and I had my hand on his crotch, I heard his voice go from in front of me to behind me, but the crotch I was holding was still in front. It finally sunk in that someone else was there. Dad realized that I now knew and told me that I was holding a boy that had just been punished prior to my arrival. The boy wouldn't be staying to watch my punishment since he had to leave.
I was then led by Dad, still blindfolded to the bathroom. Once there he helped me into the bathtub and had me stand facing him. I was told that the other boy was still there. Dad then ordered me to put my handcuffed hands on top of my head. I complied. Then to my total shock, Dad told me to start pissing. He said he wanted to see my white shorts soaked in my piss and I had better start immediately. Well, I was really trembling and finding it very hard to pee. Finally after what seemed forever I was able to do it and emptied my bladder into my shorts. I was so humiliated and embarassed knowing that the other boy was there watching this. It probably would have been 10 times as bad if he had taken the blindfold off so that I could see him probably grinning at at my embarassment and humiliation.
Once I was finished peeing, Dad pulled the shorts down to my ankles and told me step out of them. I was now naked, cuffed and blindfolded. He turned on the shower, rinsed my legs and crotch with cold water, had me step out of the tub and dried me off. By this time, the other boy had gone.
I was led to an area near the kitchen where there is a wooden table. I had seen this table on previous occasions, similar to an exam table, sort of like a butcher's table. He sat me up on the table and finally took the blind fold off of me. Now I could see my full nakedness, and my full erection. Dad proceeded to examine me while on the table, in several positions, me on my back, me on my knees with my forehead on the table, he checked everything - yes everything - including my boy hole with his gloved finger.
He decided that I needed a shave. I am relatively smooth, with some fuzz on my butt just around the boyhole and moderate crotch hair. First my ass was shaved, then my crotch. I had to put a lot of trust in Dad to do that and was very nervous. But like I said, I trust him. Once finished, much to my shock he told me he'd have to take my temperature before the punishment to make sure I was not ill and still up for it. He brought out a thermometer, not a rectal one, a regular one. Lubed it real well with KY jelly. He told me he wasn't going to check it rectally and I wondered if he was going to stick it in my mouth, why he had put the KY on it. I found out that it wasn't going into my mouth, and if it wasn't going into my boy hole, then that meant only one other place. I was very scared. I had never had this done and from stories I had heard, it was probably going to be painful. I protested, begged Dad to stick it in my boy hole instead. This was true begging and pleading because I was very scared of the pain to come. But he firmly said no, it was going to go in _c_o_c_k_.
He grabbed the head of my _c_o_c_k_ and slowly opened the slit with his fingers. He placed more KY on the slit. I was extremely nervous, watching his every move. Suddenly I felt a cold firmness enter my semi-hard penis. I squinched, waiting for the pain, but there was none. I was amazed. He shoved it in further, 3/4 of the way, still no pain. I was starting to relax a little now, but would not be a happy camper until this thermometer was out of me. He left it for a few minutes so that it could get a good temperature. He made me feel the end of it near the bottom of my shaft. I could feel it, the hard thermometer in my _d_i_c_k_ was amazing. Finally he pulled it out, and that was over with.
Well, it was now time to begin the real punishment. I knew that whenever I entered the bedroom, the real punishment was about to begin. He removed the handcuffs off of me and placed leather restraints on my wrists and ankles. I was still free to move my wrists and ankles, but they had attachments where they could be secured to any fixed object. He led me to the bedroom.
Once there I saw the familiar wooden chair in the center of the room, the array of wooden paddles on the dresser along with the dreaded leather strap and an old worn, very thick leather police duty belt. I was told to assume the postion over the chair. I knew to stand behind the chair, bend over the back and to grab the seat and open my legs and present my naked ass for licks. There was a full length mirror in front of me so I got a full view of my naked body bent over in the vulnerable position.
Dad picked up the larger wooden paddle, semi thick. He told me that for taking 10 seconds to start peeing in the bathroom that I would receive 10 licks with this paddle. He started giving them to me. I quickly noticed that they were given much much harder than our previous session 2 weeks earlier. I cried out after each lick, felt the pain and warmth sink into my ass. Luckily the 10 were over with rather quickly. After these licks, I was ordered to stand in the corner with my nose pressd firmly against the wall. I quickly complied. I could hear Dad near the dresser putting this first paddle up. He then told me to turn around and assume the position over the chair again. This time he was holding the leather police belt. I had never had this applied to my bottom and was getting very nervous. It was much thicker and wider than the strap. Once in position again, he gave me ten with this belt. I could see him in a mirror as he drew back to give me the first lick and I knew it was going to come down real hard. It did. Much to my surprise it was not that bad. It stung, but I guess it covered more area of my ass, which spread out the pain. I got my ten with the belt and again it was in the corner for more corner time. I could now feel the heat coming off my now red and sore ass.
Dad sat in the chair and ordered me to come over to him. I was placed over his lap. I was ordered to place my hands flat on the floor and to keep my toes touching the floor at all times. He began giving me licks with a thin piece of wood, similar to a ruler. At first it was ok, but as he continued the pain again started. It seemed as though he were concentrating on the same spots on each cheek of my ass. I lost count of how many, 25-30 maybe. But by the time he was near the end, I was hooping and hollaring and trying real hard to maintain my position. His other hand grabbed my waist and held me firmly down on his lap for the last 10 or so.
After this he instructed me to sit in the chair. Well some of you probably already know, it was rather painful to sit in that hard wooden chair, but after a while the cool wood of the chair was some comfort to my fire red ass. He brought the strap and gave it to me, then threw a wash cloth and a bottle of saddle soap in my lap. He ordered me to clean it up real good. I polished that strap with precision, because I knew if it wasn't clean and polished to his satisfaction there would be more punishment in store. After five minutes or so, after I was finished he ordered me to stand. Then the words that makes my stomach sink came. "Son, you know the routine, up onto the bed now." At that very moment I know that everything before was just the warm up and the real punishment was at hand. I immediately felt like a 14 year old about to get his hide tanned like never before. It really brings out the boy in me.
I slowly climbed up onto the bed and layed face down on the pillow that he had placed in the center of the bed. I felt his hands firmly grab my left ankle and spread my foot to the corner of the bed and secure the leather restraint. I was trembling and wimpering - true wimpering, because it wasn't me on that bed - it was that scared _s_h_i_t_less little 14 year old boy. He did the same with the other ankle and then secured my wrists in the same manner to the top. When I was firmly secured in place, my wimpers started to become moans. I knew that there was nothing I could do now to stop this.
Dad proceeded to explain the remainder of the punishment. 10 licks with the "black paddle" and 100 with the strap. Well, 10 licks with the black paddle doesn't sound like much, but let me explain. I don't know what the black paddle is made of, but it is heavy and thick and has holes in it. It is only delivered at full force and Dad could probably knock some home runs with his arms. So I immediately knew that those 10 would probably be worst than the 100 with the strap. He decided that he would give me the first four with the black paddle. I almost immediately began crying. I begged and pleaded. He kept telling me to "Get ready, you can take this boy." Well the first one landed. I heard the loud crack. There was no pain, the a white flash of light, then after one second it felt as though some one had sent a firey hot branding iron through my ass. Immediately following was the loudest scream. It was totally involuntary. I didn't know I could make noise like that. That was only the first one. As I waited for the next three, I pleaded and begged for mercy, but I was ignored and told, "I know you can take this like a man, Son." The next three came just as hard as the first - and followed with the same results. After those four I was breathing very heavily into the bed, tears in my eyes, but I had not yet cried. I was given a minute of two of rest. That black paddle is the closest thing I can imagine to a Singapore caning. And I still had 6 more to go.
After my minutes rest, Dad told me that the next set would be 50 licks with the strap. I would be required to count them. Again my begging and pleading started and all Dad would say is "Don't you forget to count, Son." Well the strapping started. The first ones were very hard and I immediately started yelling and screaming. As we got to 30 I was screaming those numbers out so loud hoping so bad that we would get to 50 soon. The last 20 were delivered with extra emphasis. I screamed those numbers out and I have to admit to you that from 45 to 50, as I screamed the count I was crying. Tears were flowing and soaking the sheets in front of me.
After the 50 with the strap. I was given a good 3 minutes rest. Dad then told me that it was now time for the last 6 with the black paddle and to save time - no break this time - I'll have to take all 6. I again started wimpering and begging. The next 6 with the black paddle were just as furious as the first four. I screamed after each lick. I pulled and tugged on those restrains when a lick would land that I thought I'd rip my arms and feet off.
Finally, after the black paddle was done and over with I sighed a small sigh of relief, but knew there were still 50 more to be given with the strap.
Again Dad took the strap to my ass, making me count the licks again. It went as the first 50. The same intensity and the same effect. My right cheek was giving out and each lick on that cheek was almost more than I could take. I tried to twist my right side into the bed before the lick would land, but I had no idea when a lick was aimed in that direction and the restraints were effective. For the last 10 licks or so I was screaming and crying as I tried to shout out the count. When it was over I layed and cried for a good five minutes. But it was over. I felt Dad's hand caressing my now raw, blistered, bruised ass. I felt cool water being applied and again felt is hand massage my ass. I stopped crying and moaned from the pleasure and release that my ass was now feeling. It was over. I had taken it all.