It wasn't too long after we came back from our ski trip that Craig instituted a Friday night tradition, which came to be called Report Time. It started when he was away for a few days. Before he left, he told me to be sure to go to class each day and that he would check when he got back.
He came back on a Friday. I wasn't home when he came back because I wasn't expecting him back until Saturday. When he got home, and I wasn't there, Craig went out for a long run, because like I said, he was somewhat of a jock. I had already gotten home when he got back from running. He was sweating pretty good and went and got a beer and sat on the couch. After a minute, he asked me if I had anything to "report". I said, no , I didn't have anything to report.
Craig asked me if I had gone to class every day. I decided it was better not to lie and so I told him that I had missed that day. His face darkened, which was a really bad sign for my butt.
"Didn't I tell you before I left to go to class everyday?" Craig asked, angrily.
I just nodded my head.
"When I asked you if you had anything to report, you should have reported that you didn't go to class. So not only did you disobey me, but you lied to me. Have you forgotten what happens when you lie?"
I didn't say anything and Craig repeated his question. Before I could answer this time, he stood up and reached for his heavy brown belt which normally hung on a nail by the couch, doubled up and ready for use.
Craig stood up with his belt in hand. "Get over here and take your pants down!"
"Please, Craig, I'm sorry I didn't go to class. Don't whip me."
"Get over here and get over the edge of the couch."
I came over and lowered my pants. Craig roughly pushed me over the edge of the couch and started whipping me with his brown belt. WHACK WHACK Without saying a word, Craig delivered twenty really hard strokes across my jockey shorts. He had a certain rhythm when he whipped you that was very methodical, like he practiced to a metronome. It would go WHACK pause for a few seconds, WHACK pause for two seconds WHACK. At twenty he broke his rhythm.
"That's the swats for not going to class, here's the ones for not reporting it to me"
WHACK WHACK Another hard twenty swats but these were interrupted by my tears and yells and pleadings. Of course, like always, it didn't do any good and Craig just kept whipping away until he had reached twenty.
"Okay, get up" I stood up and looked at him. He was holding his belt stretched between his two hands. "Do you have anything else to report?" I told him I didn't. Then I was sort of surprised because Craig grabbed my arm, sat on the couch, and flopped me over his knees. "From now on, if you don't make a full report on each Friday, son, this is what you're going to get" Before he hit me, Craig slipped his fingers into the elastic band around my jockeys, and pulled them down to about my knees. I could feel the sweat from his jogging suit because I was laying bare across his legs with nothing on.
"I want a full report each Friday night, do you understand?" I told him I understood but without saying anything else Craig took his belt and really laid into me, giving me another dozen hard cracks across the bare rear. KERRACK! The sound of the belt made a really loud crack as it landed. I was yelping with each swat of the belt and kicking my legs about pretty good. He finally let me up and said I could pull my underpants and jeans up. When I rubbed my butt, Craig said, "See you next Friday at 6:00." I said okay.
The next Friday at 6:00 Craig was sitting on the couch waiting for me. He had taken his belt down from the wall, so I guess he expected my report would be negative. And he had laid the belt across his lap. He had lit up a cigar and was just sitting there puffing away and waiting when I came home. I really thought it was unfair because if I had even had a single puff on the cigar, he would have tanned me good. But I knew better than to say anything about unfairness at this moment and had come to realize that we were definitely not equals.
"Okay, what's the report, son" Craig asked, taking a thoughtful puff on his cigar.
I was sort of hesitant and felt like I was going to confession or something. I knew I had done a couple of things that Craig would have been mad at. I had cut one class and had used some bad language, post punishable offenses in Craig's house. I decided to fess up so I told him what I had done.
Craig sat there and looked at me for a minute. He puffed away on his cigar a bit and said, "Okay, son, you realize you're going to get a good whipping for missing class, don't you?" I said yes and he put his cigar in the ashtray, stood up, and told me to come over and get ready. I knew what that meant so I lowered my jeans and bent over the edge of our couch. Craig came and stood behind me with his belt. "Thats thirty strokes for missing class." WHACK WHACK and on up to thirty. I was hopping around and yelling pretty good. But it was a one sided conversation. I would yell "please stop" or "I'm sorry" and he would say nothing, the only response would be WHACK. Then Craig said I could stand up, but as I started to pull my jeans up, he told me to stop and just sit and wait. So I sat down, my jeans still at my ankles, just in my jockey shorts. Craig picked up his cigar and puffed a bit more, looking at me appraisingly. "Go get me another beer from the fridge." I went over, as best as I could with my jeans down, and got Craig a beer and brought it back to him. Once again, he had his belt laying across his lap, ready for use. "What do you think you should get for the bad language, son" he asked.
I told me I was sorry it just slipped out.
"I just asked what you should get, now many licks, not why you did it. How many swats?"
I thought and said twenty.
"That's fair, wait til I finish this beer and then I'll give it to you."
I sat there waiting anxiously for Craig to finish his beer, watching intently the belt laid across his lap, knowing it would very soon be laid across my rear end with great strength. To extend the whole thing out, Craig very dramatically relit his cigar and sat there puffing away, drinking hisbeer, and waiting to give me the whipping. After a few minutes, Craig said, "get up and bend over."
I stood up and bent over the edge of the couch once more and Craig gave me the twenty swats, really hard ones. And then it was done, until the next Friday. That was a black Friday, though.
When the next Friday came, I came home from school and Craig was sitting at the couch. This time, we started talking and he didn't ask me for my report. In fact, he didn't say anything about it at all so I so no reason to bring it up until he did. I figured he had forgotten and maybe it was a passing thing. Later than night, we went into our bedroom, slipped out of our jeans, and started to get into bed in our jockey shorts Just as I was about to get into bed, Craig was sitting on the edge of the bed and asked, "What about your report?" I stopped. "What about it?" he asked again "I forgot", I said.
"Get the strap and bring it here, son, I'll help you remember to give the report every Friday even if I don't ask for it"
"Please, Craig, I just forgot, I'll give you the report now."
"Get the strap and bring it here, right now!"
I actually started to whimper a bit. "Please, I'm sorry, please."
Craig reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me over his knees. Once he had me in position, he reached down to the floor, picked up one of his sneakers, and started giving me a series of swats with it. He had never spanked me with a sneaker before and it really stung. After about a dozen swats, he asked me if I would get the strap now. I nodded so he let me up.
I slowly walked into the living room, went to the couch, and got the strap from the nail. It was hanging there doubled up. I picked if off the nail and looked at it for a minute, wondering how many whacks I was going to get tonight with it. It was a good sized belt with some heft and it made me nervous to touch it. Then I carried it back to the bedroom, handing it to Craig.
"Back over my knee"
I slowly climbed back over his knee and positioned myself and laid there waiting. Craig pushed me around a bit to get me adjusted to his liking so I was just over his right thigh, well positioned for the strap. Then, Craig slipped his fingers into my jockey shorts and quickly pulled them down, leaving my bare rear exposed. Since he was just in his jockey shorts and I had nothing on, I was rubbing against his inner thigh and his crotch. He put his left hand on the back of my neck and pushed down.
"This is for not giving the report at 6 as ordered." With that, Craig started whipping me really hard. He must have given me over 30 swats with his doubled up belt and I was bucking all over his lap and kicking my legs. Then he told me to get up. I stood by the bed, pulled up my jockey shorts, rubbing my butt and looking at the ground.
"That was it for forgeting the report. Now lets hear the report."
I was sniffling and Craig snapped the belt.
"Lets hear it! And I want to hear everything you did or didn't do."
SO I told Craig that I had missed two classes.
"get the paddle out of the closet", he said.
I went to the closet and got his wooden paddle that he had made just for spanking me and brought it and handed it to him
"Okay, now how about the language. How many bad words did you use this week?
When I told him that, Craig grabbed me by my ear and pulled me into the bathroom. I didn't know what he was doing but he took me over by the sink, turned on the water, and picked up a bar of soap. He soaped it up, got some lather, and told me to open my mouth.
When I hesitated, he delivered a few sharp swats to my already sore butt. I opened and he put a bunch of lather in my mouth. It tasted terrible. Before I could spit it out, I was being pulled by my ear back into the bedroom, and thrown face down on the bed. Then, while I cried out and rolled around, Craig gave me twenty or so swats with his belt. He put the belt on the night stand.
"That was for the language, now for missing classes. Get back over my knee."
Still crying and begging him not to do anything else, I climbed over his knee. To my surprise, he didn't start spanking right away. Instead, he put his hand on my butt and started balling me out, giving me a long lecture about going to class. Gradually, I stopped crying. Then, Craig picked up his paddle and gave me a really hard smack with it. "Are you going to miss class?
SMACK "No.
SMACK "Are you going to go to every class SMACK Yes. At this point, I actually was trying to ge away because my butt was really on fire and that was something considering all of the real whippings Craig had given me. But he was stronger than I was and he held me down and continued. SMACK. SMACK. This went on for about twenty five smacks. Finally, he put the paddle down and I breather a sigh of relief, thinking Craig was going to let me up. But instead, Craig gave me a dozen hard spanks with his open hand. Then he let me go to bed, where I slept on my stomach.
After that, I got some other whippings on Friday, but I never forgot to give my report again.