Date: Saturday, December 19, 1998
For those who have continued writing and asking if certain one's are still spanked, I guess I'd like to respect your requests and add at least a short one on one small bit of life as it still continues here.
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It was Bin, unfortunately. With his far oversized ever present shorts making them real easy to pull down anytime they should be to expose that small, still tight bottom as well as that brightly colored T-shirt he favours, he'd been around most of today flirting with playing with some of his friends (he's real big on skate boards but there's not much pavement for that in this city) on top of also dealing with homework and a report for school that is due before it closes down on Tuesday (I think it is). As typical he's still an always friendly and "up" kind of guy who still always dives into my arms when I return from a trip and is genuinely great to have about and living nearby. He'd been playing around all day and nothing wrong with that.
Soon, though, it started.
Tonight while we were all walking around a street carnival up the way that's being done and with hundreds of people walking these streets near my place, we were all walking and talking and jerking about among the crowd. Lots of food, music, everything, but far too many people.
In the midst of it all with music going on so loud I could hardly hear him or anyone, he just said it to me, "Am I gonna' get spanked soon, Dad?"
For sure I was surprised (he calls me "dad" only because his own dad is not around, recall the other one ran into him on the street and ultimately we took him in though he still lives with my lady friend down the street and her son his age).
"You got something you want to tell me, Bin?" I replied or something close to that.
"No, Nothing like that." he replied, "Nothing at all, Dad, really."
"Ok, then why are you asking?"
"Ah, well, you and I haven't done anything together just the two of us recently and you've been away and all and so I thought maybe I had something coming and you were saving it up for me and all."
"Sure, we can do something together tomorrow if you want." I thought I'd skirt it just a bit.
"Yes, I'd like to, please. Just the two of us."
"But why did you ask about my spanking you just now?"
"Well, you know, I mean you're like my Dad and all."
"So?"
"Come on, I'm your son and I sure haven't been perfect when you were gone."
Too many people were all around us so I wasn't really concerned about our being overhead (still remember I'm writing his English at a higher level than he speaks it) or for that matter for me to really sense his emotion or really see his eyes and see what was going on here, but he was obviously communicating something. Though it's not all that unusual for a older guy to know when he's getting close to getting it again or even recognize that urge sometimes when he knows and senses his need for a little follow up attention to and across his own bare bottom, this one had never said anything like this before!
And," he continued, "Maybe you should think about it and me and all and you decide, please."
"Ok, but tell me what's going on with you, Bin? What are you really saying here?"
I like this boy. He's come from almost nothing, almost failing grades, and he's adjusted to not only a more home setting but also studying and school and the whole nine yards. Sure I've yanked down those shorts and his tiny briefs and spanked his bare bottom in the past and quite a few times too, but only for a solid and clear reason when he's needed some quite clear direction and guidance. He's the kind though, that if any man just wanted to spank a boy, well, Bin would probably be getting it across that bottom every day and then some -- that's NOT my style!
"I just really want to spend some time with you and do something and I want you to remember I'm your son and decide if you're going to spank me again and spend a lot of time with me cause I'm still a boy and your being with me is the most important thing in the world to me, like all you did, but, well, I just think you should think about me cause you've been away a long time. That's all."
All that in one sentence? But he moved closer, more because the crowd was shoving him my way that anything else really. What I heard his really saying is he want some time alone and I'll find some time this weekend for him for sure. What he's also showing is he's recognizing he gains from a more dependable relationship of sorts even when it leads to his getting spanked sometimes. Maybe this would be as good a time as any to take him right home, strip him down, and yes, give him some attention firmly over my own knees? No questions that when my palm has landed in the past that he's not squirmed and yelled and danced his bare fanny in a way that has always been appealing. Why not now? Anyway, it's always possible that when his shorts and briefs are down and he's in my arms with my own palm resting there on his bare bottom thinking about it and we're talking, that, well, maybe he has something he needs to tell me? Who knows? Nothing wrong with giving a boy a chance to speak what's really on his mind though. You'd be amazed at how many really do come clean and face it squarely once their jeans and briefs are lowered with their dignity and a tanning is just about upon them. No, I did not just bring him tonight and spank him. I would not do that.
I looked at him and tossed his hair. He'd done so well in school stuff and deadlines recently.
"Ok, Pal, tomorrow you and I will take off together and head up country. Let' leave about nine?"
"Swell." He smiled widely.
"But," I continued. "You think about things because if there's something you should be telling me and you aren't, those shorts of yours are coming down and you're getting a spanking on your bare fanny that will make it difficult for you to sit down for weeks? Understand me, Boy?"
"Yea, Yes, Sir, Dad." My palm had reached down and brushed the seat of his shorts in a way that no one around us could have possibly noticed. His face lit up red. "I'll think about it, really I will, and I promise I'll tell you if there is anything that has happened that I should have told you, I promise."
"You better, Boy. There won't be a second any second changes. Hear me?"
"Yes, Sir. I'll do it, I promise."
Then I realized he's clutched my own hand in his, which isn't all that unusual for him, and said softly, "I'm really glad you're back. I guess I've really missed you more than I though I would."
I squeezed his hand and tried to lighted up the moment.
"You know I missed you too?"
"Really?"
I nodded
Maybe I can come along some time with you when school's not in session and all?"
"Sure. I'll take you sometime."
The dance troupe on that make-shift street stage came alive and what had been impossibly loud music, immediately got ten times louder. The other guys came back with something that looked strange on a stick, enough for us all and things went forward. Bin, though, did seem to be alive and enjoying himself, right along with everyone else.
Sometimes you'll find that a boy does "ask" (though normally not openly), even a boy his age.
Tomorrow would be a new day, for sure.
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Date: Sunday, 20 Dec 1998
Not even I heard it at first this morning. We had all gone home to sleep far too late and the almost silent tapping that I all of a sudden realized was coming from the front door might have something as stupid as a dog's paw if we had had one. I stumbled there, half conscious, and there he was.
"Ready to go?" Bin brightly questioned looking like Miss Sunshine.
He looked at me in disbelief knowing that it was nine in the morning just as we had agreed upon, but I had obviously not paid attention.
"Guess not, Huh?" he said, "But can we still go? I mean you said we could go now?"
He stood eager and ready in yet another freshly ironed over sized lengthy T-shirt that almost covered his whole body to his knee caps. The long shorts fell even lower, just below his calves. His shirt was brightly colored, much too bright for my eyes at this hour of the morning. Still I managed to head in the direction of the bathroom and splashed some hot water on my half opened eyes. When I emerged, he was standing there looking as good and eager as even. Just standing there in the bedroom anxiously waiting for me to really get my act together and get dressed.
I gave it another try and showered and shaved a bit quickly. Somehow the hot water seemed to do it's thing; and the next time I emerged to see him still standing there, I was at least more alert and ready to consider the possibility that we really would begin the day.
I looked at him. "Am I gonna' get spanked soon, Dad?", his words from last evening came back in my mind. It was going to be a day for sure.
He stood there doing his equivalent of shuffling his weight from one foot to another, smiling and looking more than fine. I couldn't help thinking about the boy standing there like that waiting. I for one knew for sure how well defined, if a bit on the lean side, his nice body was under those floppy cloths, those young buns that I'd spanked many times before. Still he was waiting for me.
Why not give him a little unexpected lesson in patience? Nothing like taking the time to spank a boy first thing in the morning, especially on a weekend! Usually they don't expect it right then, too early; but it's one of the best ways to remind the boy that he's got a good day coming but he still must obey. Nothing like warming up his buns for him, first thing, nice and rosy just enough to remind him who's boss, not enough to cause his tears to flow freely.
Sure, even I knew it. Spending a comfortable Sunday with a boy just after you've given a good spanking first thing in the morning does have advantages. At a minimum, it's a fine a way of insuring his attention while giving him a feeling worth his remembering in those young buns of his that you've warmed up just before you've permitted him to put his snug briefs back on and then pulled them up yourself a bit more nice and close and snugly where that feel down there certainly can remind him he's cared for! Even more so it's a good way to insure that he remembers he might be cared for even more sternly later on in the evening if he doesn't watch himself!
I yanked up my own shorts and reached for a shirt while still looking at him standing there smiling expectantly, still waiting for his time. I wondered to myself as I looked at him there if he had any hint that the "his time" I was thinking about was his first displaying his own nice bottom for some more personal attention where he would remember it for sure all day long?
Heck, the sheets and the bed was all torn up already waiting for the maid to come by much later. Why not strip him down and let his young body grace those crumpled sheets and just enjoy his own natural innocence before making his young buns nice and red just for him? Teach him not only a bit about patience, but assure him, the best way a boy his age learnes, you care before you head off for the day together?
I looked at him. Great guy. But, after all, what was it he had said only last evening, "Am I gonna' get spanked soon, Dad?"
What's holding me back, I thought to myself?
First thing on a Sunday morning has always been a special time for spanking a boy. Larry often used to get his own tail warmed on a Sunday morning when he was growing up, though I hadn't ever spanked this one such, fresh in the morning, that I could recall. I dressed and thought about it. It always surprises the boy as he's generally been spanked mostly in the evening after work; but it certainly can be an effective way to set the tone for the day and might encourage him to be more than truthful if he did have something he should be telling me later.
Bin looked so good and fresh standing there, eager to get going. Why not pause and just take a bit of time to acquaint his young bare buns with a few stripes to keep the day moving along nicely? Anyway, it would be nice to see those buns squirming and wiggling a bit before we headed out to spend the day together. And later I could always spend the time to do it right! It had a certain appear to it, the more I thought about it.
As I watched him, I remember my close friend in Hamburg and his own personal dictum that always hung on his den's wall in clear, bold deeply black English letters:
"PADDLE THE BOY EVERY SUNDAY MORNING.
MAKE SURE HIS WEEKEND GIVES HIM WHAT HE NEEDS!
NEGLECT HIM THAT FAVOUR AND YOU DO HIM NO HELP;
AND YOU FORGO YOURSELF FAR TOO MUCH PLEASURE!"
I remember the first time I noticed it there just hanging on his wall for anyone to see. And I remember his boy when the boy noticed me reading it there too. The tall German boy had blushed deeply as he already know what I soon came to know for myself. My friend believed in that dictum. For him, it was ritualized but it was never, ever a simple morning spanking for any boy who ever stayed with him. Far from it, first thing each Sunday morning, no matter who might be visiting, my friend would have his boy stretch out over his bed, a few pillows tucked under his hips to accent his assets of the moment. For sure, not a stitch of clothing was on him. Few words or niceties ever came out of his mouth on those Sunday mornings, though he would spell out a few crisp rules. Then it was always his paddle, the boy's paddle, a thick bruising one that would rapidly descent with loud cracks and burst which would fill the Sunday morning in his house as he applied his dictum religiously and paddled his boy's bare fanny. It took place every Sunday morning without fail. I remember hearing the tall German boy's tears that first Sunday morning I was there. Every boy he ever cared for knew that dictum, and every one got it for sure. Still after his boy had been paddled and been left alone to recover at least part of his composure, the boy would swing into a tight white jock and join the man of the house at the table. His boys would always sit on his lap, initially with their heads down on his shoulder as the remnants of tears came down. Speaking to him loudly in German, the man would talk with him, occasionally jerk down the boy's jock, cupping him not so gentle, sometimes tweaking him or doing whatever he wished to the boy he was caring for. Rarely his boy would ever jerk or do something his man didn't want him to, for on those occasions if he did, his practice was to take off his belt, push him down into the basement, and then he would use it across the boy's already scarlet bottom. His boys never needed that treatm he care of their man and each one knew he ultimately would and must. The rest of the day and afternoon would go on in the most normal of ways.
"Nothing like a good morning's session with the paddle." He exclaimed one, I recall. "Keeps Hans on his toes." He'd laugh. But, yes it certainly did!
Maybe some of that Germanic structure might be helpful in young Bin's life as well?
I had reached for a polo, still looking at Bin, standing there still, looking forward to some time together. Gees, he was a good kid.
But even good kids can benefit from learning a little taste of patience first on a Sunday morning, now and then. This young one was too young, too excited about the day we had planned. I would never use a paddle on him like that. On the other hand, there was nothing to be lost in starting his day off right across my knees, not to mention the pleasure of seeing his own bare bottom quivering across my knees a bit right then while I warmed it up for him nice and privately. Good for the boy!
After all, why not? There was nothing we had planned that wouldn't wait a half hour or so. Why not introduce him to a Sunday morning spanking, or maybe just a few gentle stripes laid quickly across those nice buns, give him something to really wake up and start today off well and, of course, to remind him I expected honesty if he has something to tell me later.
He was surprised, to say the least, and completely taken off guard when I stepped then toward him and took him gentle by his shoulders. He had no idea why?
"You know, Bin," I started, "I think I'm first going to take these shorts down and maybe just provide a little lesson to that pride in you."
He stared. His mouth opened as if to speak, but he said nothing.
My hands lifted his huge shirt and holding it up, undid the ties of his drawstring, letting those shorts fall in a clump to the floor.
"Thats a good boy," I smiled watching his eyes become very wide in surprise. "Now you show me how well you can listen and let's get that shirt off you and get you over on that bunch of sheets where I can see you, boy. Time to pay a little attention to your little bare fanny, makke sure you haven't forgotten what it's like."
His hands flew and that shirt started off over his head.
"Good, Bin, Good. You know how to obey me, now don't you, Boy?"
His head nodded positively as he sailed his shirt across the room before he almost took a dive on that unmade bed there.
"Did I do something, Dad?" he seems to say those words almost mournfully. He was looking up, propping his chest up on his right elbow as he lay there is only his white, bikini briefs and socks, waiting for me.
"I didn't say that, did I?"
"No, but why? Why do you have to spank me? . . .."
My hand cupped his mouth, ending his questioning as I turned him over on his stomach, half over my one leg now, and then slowly patted his bottom a bit before I took my time and brought his briefs down and ultimately all the way off.
Beautiful, just beautiful.
Bin seemed to struggle at least initially, as I finished the process and completed guiding his bare buns up there right over my knees where I wanted then and where we both knew he wanted to be. His natural resistance was of no use especially as with my left arm over the small of his back and around him, it was easy to control him, especially a boy his size. Any man who spanks a boy quickly learns how to do that. It not a matter of what he wants. It's only matter of what intend to give to him. Few boys, if any, ever begin by welcoming a spanking regardless of the reason. When the time is upon them, it doesn't matter their age. It's just another boy over his man's lap. He's getting a spanking.
This time I had no reason, maybe a few excuses, but no real reason to spank him. I was going to spank him anyway. He knew we were not alone in the house that morning. Still even if he cried his eyes out, he also knew no one would ever open the door shut behind the two of us and interrupt. They might listen, but no boy would dare to do more.
Then in the privacy of that room with his fine bare bottom right over my knees and no other's, I began to spanked him, bringing my palm down on his then clenching white buns, grabbing them, then bringing my palm down again right under that fleshy part of his bottom where every man who spanks knows it will do him the most good until he released them as every boy learns he must. Then I spanked him, but almost gently, almost lovingly, just giving him that touch and hint of things that might come that he so needed. He squirmed nicely, rolling side to side, sometimes moaning, more often jerking forward or side ways, but the clenched side definitions of his bare buns soon began to turn just a little more rosy. The initial imprint from my hand, though not delivered harshly, had been evened out. He really was not being hurt, he was not being punished at all, he was simply getting a nice warm tanning across his bare bottom from the man who cared enough to give it to him.
It didn't take long. No need to. Just a few well placed swats to bring him close and remind him of what was expected of him. Emotions began to come up in him. No tears, though when I took him in my arms after it was over, the dampness of water from those same big eyes were easy to feel on my chest.
It took him a while in my arms, it always does.
"I don't know what to say, Dad." The words came out in between sniffles, but he was holding me even more tightly that I was holding him.
Again, after a bit, some words finally came out.
"I thought maybe you didn't care about me anymore."
I said nothing.
"I don't know why, but it's really important to me you care, Dad, really."
Still I said nothing.
"I mean I always know that, but I sure remember now."
Yes, at that point a smile was returning to his flushed face. I hugged him, ultimately pulled up his white cotton bikini briefs over his rosy buns for him, and the both of us finished dressing.
When we opened the door and left that bedroom together, there was still not a sound in the house. If anyone had heard, they were still sleeping and not going to let on.
We took off by car, by boat, by foot heading as far up into a mountainous areas as we would reach in one day and returned very late that night, and also talking, talking, talking. All the while, I knew, and he knew I knew, his bottom was still smarting, just a little. He never bounced down on any chair, but sat down just a wee bit carefully. And whenever he caught me noticing, yes, we both broke out into laughter! The day turned out to be perfect! Both of us had a great time!
As it turned out, in Bin's case, while he may have come close to getting his bare fanny whacked really good when we finally returned home, not just that Sunday morning stuff, it made no sense, wasn't necessary, and simply didn't happen. You see, when you peal off all those layers of oversized cloths he uses to hide and protect himself from the world he knows and more importantly, when he comes true with the really nice open and honest guy he really is, well, what he was longing for and needing was simply some attention and time. He really had nothing at all to "confess" about what had gone on while I was away to speak of. Oh, maybe a few stupid things, but nothing worth commenting on. He's too important. Nothing would have been gained had I really spanked him that evening when we returned, though he's probably getting to the point where I will have to do that sometime in the future, maybe soon.
Bin's young, small, he hates being spanked; but at his age and in this situation, spanking him is what he gets if he's screwed up. There are other ways to make him secure and proud of himself and confident. If it had been an older boy, well, maybe yes, I would have spanked him. But it wasn't. So, it didn't happen and yes, he was real happy it didn't happen once push came to shove.
"Do you think maybe sometime I could go with you when you have to go up there, please?"
It had come out as we sat enjoying dinner. He brought it up again.
"Why not?" I replied and I meant it. "We just need to find a time when you able to be away from school."
His face sparkled up like the Christmas lights on the trees outside.
"Really?!?" He shot back.
"Sure, really!"
He really is a super guy, a bit young maybe, but a super, super young guy.
I appreciated those of you who have written so honestly and asked so many questions over the past months that I'll never be able to answer. But, life goes on around here.
Cal