Andre


by Cal <100622.2517@CompuServe.com>

A few years ago, in "talking" with one of you, some things were taking place in Holland where I was living at the time. What follows is some note to that friend, some noting Andre's feelings. Yes, it's non-fiction. Andre still lives there with his folks. But for the reader who wrote asking that I post those . . . OK . . . Responding to a friend's e-mail

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DATE: 02.09.96

My friend,

A "catch up" while I have a some uninterrupted time to myself.

In reply to your "who got it?" the other night when I drew the line? It was Andre. Maybe I've not mentioned him before, but his folks watch over my place near Hoorn -- my apartment's in Central Amsterdam; my larger place's near Hoorn. Andre's father has helped out with things there forever, or so it seems. The family's originally from Southern France's farm and are of long-standing, working stock. They live in a cottage on the end of this property and work the land there.

Andre's father as well as his mother have raised him with a strap and, as such, this is nothing unusual in this part of the country. He understands and, in general, is a quiet, well behaved and nice kid all around.

With their awareness I also apply firm corporal punishment to the boy when necessary and that ALWAYS means on his bare ass. He's just past sixteen, tall, lanky, strapping, excellent physique from long hours of hard farm labor, and dark curly hair with sensual and very dark eyes highlighted by long eyebrows.

Why? I went up there to get away for the moment and think, work a bit, and just recover from a grueling work week in Cyprus and I wasn't planning on talking much with anyone. I certainly was not anticipating having to take my time to spank that boy that night! I was tired, _d_a_m_n_ed tired and not in a mood to see anybody!

Still. . .

When he knew I was on my way after I'd called his folks earlier that afternoon, he'd come over after school to check on things and wait until I got there. He had the house warm, the fire raging -- as is his responsibility -- and when I walked in, he was doing homework in the big open room (Dutch style farmhouse) and warmly welcoming. All of a sudden the world seemed better! However, when I went into the bathroom to wash my hands and face in order to be civil enough to at least sit down with him briefly, I discovered he'd not wrapped the exposed pipes or changed the leaking fitting under the sink, like I'd I'd asked him to do weeks before and had reminded him.

He just hadn't done it period! The water pipe was still leaking, water can out cold, but ominously slowly. The floor was marked and wet from the rust stains from that fitting too.

My anger must have shown as I came back into the room, since he looked like he'd seen a ghost and he looked ever whiter after I told him to go upstairs and wait for me there.

So, it was Andre who'd been sent upstairs to the loft style master bedroom I'd added to wait for me and he looked even worse when I walked up to handle things. Andre got his nice little bare bottom blistered, and I stress "blistered," across my knees as soon as I finished that message to you. No games nor excuses are accepted, especially when I'm angry (as you may find out someday).

The young Dutch farm boy lost all his clothing -- except his long, white wool socks -- and over my knees he went in the middle of some sentence he was trying to get out while my left hand circled his waist and grabbed hold of his _c_o_c_k_ and balled to control him tightly while my right hand did its job spanking his tight fanny! The moment my hand landed, he yelped out and it only got worse from there as I punished him for failing to have done what I explicitly had told him to do long ago!

It doesn't take long to have Andre crying like a small boy when I'm spanking him and although he plays the macho role, he is soon far out of control and flailing across my lap with his legs flying every which way and his body flipping around with tears and screams to match. He can cry or do as he wishes. There are no neighbors near enough to hear or complain and there is no court of last appeal. His folk's cottage is the only one remotely close to me.

Andre's interesting. Last summer, I think it was maybe at the end of July, anyway we were in the "barn" where the horses are boarded (not all mine) and I called him "on the carpet" and began to unbuckle his jeans. He picked that moment to rebel and objected to being spanked with my taking his jeans down at his age (he'd recently had a birthday and had concluded he was too old now to be treated as a small boy). All it took was a yell to his father (who was working outside) and within moments a few sharp words from his father resulted in Andre's not only dropping his jeans, but removing ALL of his clothing altogether. He then went over my lap, then his father's lap, and after all of that and in spite of his cries, pleas, and promises, his father who is a large and older man (Andre was a mistake in family planning when the old man was already old), now with silver white hair and wire rimmed glasses and clearly of the old school, took him over a bale and whipped him with his own thick leather belt. That guy doesn't fool around! When he finished and I mean "finished" and Andre was out of complete control, the father just tossed me the belt and just walked away. Rebellion is clearly not tolerated. Got that one clear?

I used some oil on him, held him tightly as he began to talk and calmed down (thought it took a long time) until we had a private conversation as I patted his sore ass and he promised obedience in spite of his age, before I took him over my own lap for a nice, good spanking, just enough to make him understand. The balance of that day/night and all the next, he was limited to his jock, shirt, shoes/socks.

Ever since then Andre's got a healthy respect of me and has a clear understanding of how things are. Hence, when I tell him to strip, that is exactly what he does and immediately. And that's exactly how I found him after I signed off and went upstairs that night I jotted you a note.

Anyway, once I had Andre stripped and across my knees that night, I got special enjoyment out of laying into his bare bottom, spanking the hell out of him. I know I should never probably spank any lad when I'm angry, but I was furious and his kicking and screaming and crying quickly showed how hard I was spanking his ass as well as how angry I was at him for his lack of action on what I had told him to do. I'd rarely spanked him that hard, but I'll admit this time he put on a show across my knees that he'll think of fondly for months to come for sure.

After I tired, I moved him gently by the hair around so that while still over my lap and his face now streaked with tears and still crying, I demanded his attention and his looking directly into my own eyes while I lectured him on his duties and responsibilities. We had a good understanding with him like that and my right hand resting on one very sore and hot young man's ass!

When I finally tired weary of all of it, I stood Andre up and face-to-face forced him to continue our more private discussion as tears still flowed down his very red face. His promises were genuine, but his actions had shown his irresponsibility. While he quietly sobbed and pleaded, his beautiful body shaking, I listened and reinforced my own points which were not subject to discussion. Boys need to feel spankings, they need to cry real tears at times like that, they need to feel the results on their round red buns, and to repeat clearly the standards they will adopt and meet immediately and to know the certainty of the exact punishment that will follow when, not if, they next fail!

Andre tried. He tried his best to assure me it wouldn't happen ever again and surely he had learned his lesson "this time for sure," but I was unconvinced and thus took the hairbrush from my own dresser drawer and despite his verbal protests, promises, and stamping of his feet with his _c_o_c_k_ and balls flopping freely, took his upper arm and drew him back to the big bed where I sat down and gently, this time, guided his naked body across my lap, his feet flopping freely over the foot of the bed.

A boy to be paddled with the large wooden hairbrush I use has to be controlled securely, especially when he has already been spanked and his bare bottom is already nice and hot. Thus I leaned my weight across the lower portion of his naked back as my left hand once again went for a firm grip around his _c_o_c_k_ and balls! He was already crying freely as I grabbed him.

On the first crack of my hairbrush he screamed loud enough to be heard "a mile away," including to his folk's cottage. Thereafter his cries only increased as I paid no attention and paddled the lad's ass spread out nicely there across my lap. And paddle him with that hair brush I did! His cries only encouraged me to give him more until I decided he'd paid his punishment.

When I let him up, he grabbed me and buried his face on my shoulder, crying his heart out. As he took his time sobbing out his feelings, I allowed myself the pleasure of resting my right hand on his extremely hot bottom. It was as it should be as he cried seemingly forever. Time to re-connect and establish the trust and respect that would always be there between up. Acceptance was crucial. That was clear.

It was hard for me to be absolutely certain and I was wearing Levi 501's but at one point, it almost felt like he was becoming a bit hard with my hands now exploring the hotness I had forced his ass to accept.

Andre's not all that untypical of boys raised by more elderly parents here who hold to very firm beliefs and don't think much of modern ways or education in the modern Europe. Andre's father really doesn't think he has much of a future beyond labor but the boy's fairly good in math and at school. His father works him hard -- I don't know how often the father straps the boy but given the fear in Andre's eyes and the way he watched his father when they are both together in my presence, I suspect his father is still applying that old strap to Andre's backside fairly regularly and no one's going to fault him for it either in this rural area -- but then again it is the hard work on the land that accounts for this teenager's extremely well defined and developed physique. Talk about very firm pecs and well defined abdominal muscles!!!

Now that I write this, maybe I'll ask Andre how often his Father is still strapping him. Why not? Actually, maybe I'll just ask his father himself the next time I see the old man. I've never understood why he doesn't seem to like the boy? Andre's really a super kid from what I can tell!

Anyway Andre's taken to talk with me about his future and going on in school or with business, so when he can, he often comes over at night and -- like that night -- builds a big fire and we talk about everything. But still, I have absolutely no hesitancy about taking him across my knee when I choose to. One hundred percent all teenage boy, he is exactly the kind of lad who is a pure joy to spank naked. And, do I enjoy it!

You'd like him, I am absolutely sure!

Although Andre's father has written him off, his mother is very protective of the boy. After this last spanking which was long and intense, she took the time to come by the next morning (when he was in school) with a homemade coffee cake for breakfast. I was touched, really touched, as she told me how much she appreciated my spending time with him and guiding him, then slightly nodding her head, she added, "You know his father doesn't really care for him these days and he's been needing spanked for some time now. I'm glad you took care of it when you did."

I wonder if she could have hear him crying that night?

She's quite a lady. Younger than her elderly husband, she and I often talk a lot in the summer and she's always canning something or other in the big kitchen or helping. Somehow she seems convinced I cannot take care of myself (which I can!), but anyway, I was touched by her comments and friendship.

No need for anyone to worry, however, Andre's a boy I watch carefully and take every real opportunity I can to strip the boy naked and spank his beautiful, tight fanny for the pleasure of that alone! For me, the pleasure begins the moment I see the look in his eyes as I call him to me and start to unbuckle his belt myself. I like it as he stands there, sometimes talking, while I peal down his jeans to his a clump around his boots and then run my hands up his legs and thighs, ultimately moving his white briefs down off his ass and to the same clump around those boots!

By this time he's usually making excuses, but it's still nice to unbutton his shirt, punishing it back off his shoulder as it is forced to drop it the floor leaving him exposed, naked, and in my power. Let him stand like that for a moment or two, nervous, humiliated, and scared as Hell 'cause he knows exactly what's coming. Then, over he goes with his tight little butt waiting for me.

Don't worry. I know what comes next and I always handle my duty!

No matter. I'm back at my place near Hoorn, at the moment, having spent yesterday in my office.

Nice boy, but he is all boy and he knows that as well as I do. I'll join his folks for dinner his mother is cooking down the lane and then have agreed to help him with an essay he has to finish for school in English on the US State of Alabama (of which I know little). It's always nice to help a guy that needs help and rewarding too. There's the old kitchen table in his folk's place, although a bit crowded, or maybe we'll just come back here to my place where there's a big round Oak table in the big Dutch open room with the old stone fireplace. The advantage of the latter is, of course, that it's quieter here with his father's television blaring away. . .

Of course the other real advantage is that I've got the little paddle I often use on the other boys here and handy. To be sure, I can use it!

It's not like I would fear spanking or paddling him at his own place, but then again, I'd not be able to strip him quite the way I like to there and would have to deal with his father who's probably want to strap him himself if he was making too many mistakes first! I did spank him once, on his Levi's that is, in his folk's kitchen once long time ago, as he both looked on smiling approvingly, but it's not really my style. I really prefer to undress him as I described above and have him completely naked and over my lap for my own control. It's better that way. On the other hand, his mother did say something about some paper from school his father wanted me to look at at dinner, now that I think about it; but who knows what that's about?

I hope this answers your questions. It is always nice to hear from you and I trust I'll see you in the not too distant future. I need to end this now and finish some other work to get it off before I bike down the lane for dinner.

Be good, my boy; be good.

Cal

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date: 10.09.98

Well, Friend, what can I say?

Just as I was frantically packing to leave for the airport, the telephone rang. I was surprised as no one knew I was there. Low and behold, it was Andre's father! It turns out that young Andre, bless his young soul and little bottom, had had one or two of his friends over at my lace the prior night -- something explicitly forbidden the boy without my permission -- but anyway there were two couples (Andre and his current girl friend, who I've met; and another guy and his). Andre had apparently brought in a bit of beer and was planing to plow the gal. Sounds "All-American" so far and no big deal or challenge in The Netherlands.

Although his old man doesn't know it, periodically he'll use my place to sew his wild seed, after all it's quiet and private. He always asks my permission in advance and I almost always let him. He knows the "price" I'll require is I'll blister his bare bottom for it. His folks being very conservative Dutch Reform church members, would kill him and he knows what his Dad would do, so he's never complained about my "price." To quote him one day last summer after I'd spanked him long and very hard for it and sent him beyond himself over my knee one afternoon: "Hell, so all you do is spank me but it's worth it 'cause even though you really spank me hard and I cry a lot, it's over soon and we're always friends and I've gotten what I want, sometime all night with my girl!" Sounds fair to me. It's best after he's just had his fun and I'm there chaperoning in the living room. She always leaves rather quickly (I've no idea why) or immediately without breakfast if she'd stayed over, and then Andre'll turn and look my way smiling or chuckling after he's shut the door or returned from walking or biking her to the tram stop. He always has the cutest satisfied but naughty twinkle of a look in his eyes as he begins to smile more and more broadly my way, proud of himself and his conquest.

But, all it takes is the snap of my finger and upon a point to the floor, and his grim is gone immediately and he'll strip down to his white cotton briefs he favors and crawl over for what he knows he's getting next. Time to pay the piper. A straight boy who's just cum and now has to take his spanking is just a pure joy to turn over. Andre is one of the few I usually begin his spanking on occasions like this on his briefs and then lower them myself and remove them while he hangs over my lap. As you know, he's especially sensitive to applications of my hand when he's recently cum but he is also very actively seductively wiggling his bottom while I'm giving it to him -- and he's taking it -- with my hand on his bare bottom on those rather personal occasions -- of course I also apply the paddle and strap if I choose to -- and, in my experience disciplining Andre, he's especially sensitive and humiliated by any comment about or finger on his young cherry. He cries easily and freely. Talk about a beautiful lad to spank like that, which is, of course, why I let him use my place for his fun in the first place!

But, although he hadn't checked with me in advance this time (actually he didn't know I was in Amsterdam), he was apparently a bit careless and had a candle on that his folks noticed and went up to check on, catching poor Andre in the midst of a very passionate moment, with his bare butt up pumping away! Not surprisingly, his folks saw no humor in the situation and his father apparently made him take the girl(s?) home immediately while he prepared to strap Andre and his friend (whose state at that crucial moment was not revealed to me). Apparently when Andre got back, his old man had then stripped him and was about to strap his bottom but good when the boy asked if since he'd been in my place and my "respect" he'd "offended" (?), if I shouldn't be the one to punish him! Amazing, apparently he was thinking it'd go easier on his young bottom over my lap than it would be taking it from his father's strap, especially as his father sounded raging with anger!!

His old man, not knowing anything about how I handle Andre after he's been balling at my place, was apparently "impressed" with the lad's "responsibility" - yea, I know, hard to believe, me too, but that's what happened -- and had simply picked up the phone and called with Andre obviously in front of him and from the sound of it already in tears from fright (he'd not been so much as slapped). Anyway, I agreed with the father that I'd handle the boy, if he wished, when I return. Why not, after all?

Then, I had a long phone conversation with Andre, calming him down, and made sure he knew that when I returned to Holland I would, of course, come up to spank his bare bottom as I have in the past when he's been _f_u_c_k_ing at my place, but first, because he was so stupid as to let his folks discover him and embarrass his friend, we'd have a drink with this gal and he would apologize in my presence for the way he treated her and tell her, still in my presence that because of his stupidity and "immaturity" I would be taking him back to the place for the spanking he'd earned!

But he understands that although I will spank him then, I'll also strap him, and then I'll spank him again the next morning!

Talk about dead silence on the phone!

"You're kidding, Sir, aren't you?" he finally got out.

To which I merely said "Not at all, Andre," and hung up.

As you read this, there's one very frightened school boy in Hoorn these days knowing around about when I'm returning to de nederland and knowing exactly what he's in for.

Cal

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Dt: 28.09.98

I'm home! Andre, as good looking as ever, was at the station but greeted me with reserve this time. His Dad's still laid up (farm-related injury) but my place is fine. Later tonight I'll join the family for dinner then take time to take down the lad's jeans and march him bare bottom out to the shed behind my place to re-acquaint him with my strap. His dad repeated his request I discipline him and went on about his behavior as we all, including Andre and his Mom, sat talking about stuff at the place in my absence. Andre turned red but knowing better than to argue, just looked down, became quiet, and squirmed his bottom in his tight jeans in his chair as his Dad talked on in detail. He knows what he's in for. Great guy! Very un-Dutch looking though! His upper torso's now tanned from outside work (always works in jeans) and his body's very well built with a tight firm bottom equal to his reputation around the town as a stud. That bottom, once his jeans are taken down, takes a good licking. Everyone finds him appealing and he is, believe me, with a personality to match! To bad he requires a strapping tonight, but I'll oblige his Dad's directions for sure and both he and his Dad know it too!

Andre's Dad and I are unusually close, genuinely enjoy each other's company even though he's much older and gruffer than anyone I've ever known anywhere. His Dad's always been strict with Andre, who's been raised knowing displeasure from Dad results in his getting spanked or more. It's been that way forever, but it's also why Andre's doing better than any of his peers and will make it in something other than farming, I'm sure. My hunch is there's rarely been a week go by he hasn't been spanked or paddled or worse in his whole life. Actually, I think I'll ask him now that I think of it in writing to you. Interested to know? In many ways, he may be like you at that age. He may not recognize how much he needs and benefits from domestic discipline over his Dad's lap, but he accepts it from his Dad and me without question. He does need it. My hunch is he craves it, as he clearly is motivated by it and it's threat and thereafter excels. When he doesn't get it, he always seems a bit lethargic maybe antsy, but I wonder if he has made the connection? When did you? Think he recognizes it in himself yet?

Like now, his Dad's accident was right after I left so it's been maybe 11 weeks since his last spanking. He's fine but he's not got that sparkle even when he tells me how the summer job I got him is going. His boss will tell me later, I'm sure. I think he misses it and the attention it implies? What's your hunch/experience?

I've known for years some men/boys crave that special relationship with a man who holds them accountable and propel them forward. They do much better if they find it.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to taking down Andre' jeans and strapping his bare bottom, maybe spanking him, getting him going again before I return to work.

Cal

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Dt: 29.09.98

Quite an evening last weekend! Dinner with Andre's folks (their cottage) was as enjoyable as always. Andre said almost nothing. I'm sure, from the way he was watching me, he knew I planned on spanking him when we finished. Farm folk eat early and turn in. OK with me as I eyed a shy Andre back knowing what I'd be doing later would make it an interesting, late night for sure, and I'll admit I was anxious to getting started. About halfway along, his Dad asked him directly if he was sorry for his "stubbornness the other week" and Andre replied with a sincere sounding "Yes, Sir."

Dad continued, "Do you think you'll be able to do better after you're punished?"

"Yes, Sir," he replied reverently.

"I hope so, Son," his Dad went on, "now get yourself up in that corner, think about what you did until he's ready to handle you!"

"Yes, Sir." Andre rose from the table, almost military fashion, and stood, forehead against the wall in the corner his Dad had pointed to. Uninterrupted thereafter, our meal continued normally. Although his folks technically rent/work for me, we're good friends.

Much later coffee finished, I put my hand on Andre's shoulder, startling him, his forehead still against the wall in that corner.

"Come on, Andre, time we go up to my place and handle things."

He looked genuinely concerned, scared, sad as he left with me, my hand still on his shoulder.

Walking back, I asked him how he was feeling?

"Awful! I'm embarrassed I disappointed you. Am I going to get strapped?" was all he said with a very forlorn look in his eyes.

"Yes, for your father," I answered. We walked together, my hand on him, the rest of the way up the tree lined lane in silence.

Inside my place, in the big room, he knew what was coming. I let him stand there while I unbuckled his belt myself, removed it completely, then undid the hooks on his Levi's and pulled them down to his ankles, helping him step out of them with him resting his hand on my shoulder for balance, then tossed them aside. Time now for his white briefs. I took them down myself leaving him standing there bare, good looking equipment, same nice tight bottom I remember. It was white, un spanked for awhile.

"Anything to say," I asked?

"I'm ashamed and sorry" was all he said.

I thought he was about to cry as I nudged him, with my hand on his bare bottom, toward the back door, pausing to pick up my small strap. He watched. He knew what was next.

"You know the way?" I said.

Yes, he knew the way as I marched him bare bottomed out to the back shed, flicked on the light, sat down the small strap on my workbench and took the larger, razor strap off its hook behind the door. This time I told him to take off his socks, shoes, shirt and T-shirt, making him naked in the light of that single bare bulb hanging down among the tools. I spread a blue towel over my workbench and bent him forward over it. Jeez, he looked good.

"Know what happens now, my boy?" I said.

"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir."

I was already raising my arm and brought the strap down hard across his bottom. He grit his teeth tightly as the first two or three smacks left vivid impressions of my razor strap etched in vivid red across both cheeks of his bare bottom. He was clenching his buns, holding on tightly to the top of the workbench with his hands, his head down, his flopping hair concealing it and his eyes. His first squeal came after about the fifth slap of my strap and by the eighth or ninth he was crying freely, his legs and bottom moving frantically, freely, but his upper body firm on that bench. He knows well my rules and knows better than to try to stand or bring his hand back to protect his bottom no matter how much it stings. After fifteen with that strap he was crying, wailing like a small boy. I paused looking at his bare bottom streaked now with red stripes. Inspecting the results so far, I was satisfied. Solid red stripes, no welts, no bruises. I'd not forgotten how. Then I took him over my lap and gave him the next fifteen with the small strap, more intimately applied to round out his punishment, making his bottom red all over, still unbruised, but very well "spanked." I was getting through to him, over my lap he began begging, promising, especially as I applied my small strap to the undersides of his bottom where it always does him the most good. His hands were pounding the floor, his body frantically wiggling, trying to escape from that from which escape was not possible. He knew that, but now he was like a small boy, out of control, responding to the pain and humiliation of being spanked, strapped, punished as his Dad had asked. He knew why, what he'd really done since his Dad had talked with me. I didn't and didn't ask. I only blistered his bare bottom. Back and forth fifteen and fifteen I continued strapping him in punishment, spanking him with my hand to even it out, with him crying loudly, promising, pleading to no avail until ultimately I knew I'd taught him well. He'd been disciplined sound

I waited patiently while Andre continued crying himself out, draped naked over my lap, settling down, regaining control. That in itself took a long time. His bare bottom was extremely hot to touch, very red, and, I'm sure, quite painful. He repeated promises, begging for no more, crying "I'm sooo sorry!"

I'd agreed already, but he feared I'd give him more, start again as he hung there vulnerable, open to whatever I decided. I'd given him a good one. This time even I was proud of my results!

He'd been punished and now it was over with.

I tossed Andre his shirt and he walked back into my house that way, then told him to sit on the sofa and offered him a beer. It took him a long time to regain himself. Then, after he started talking normally and with some good stereo music on, he started asking me about America. Much later when he was joking and laughing again, I asked some of my (our?) questions and I listened carefully to his reply:

Yes, he knows his Dad's always been strict with him and more strict than some of his friends' Dads are with them but he feels his Dad's just trying to insure him to a better future than farming. He said most of his friends were spanked too when then were growing up, but now that he's older "not all" of them are still spanked by their fathers like he still is. Sometimes he "hates" it but he knows it's his Dad's way of caring for him. He doesn't like still being stripped or being told to lower his pants and underwear "to get my spankings" but "if I told Dad that, he'd get angry and probably give it to me worse than I was going to get it anyway and he'd still give it to me on my bare ass, and anyway he believes in that and so do you, so it doesn't matter what I think cause both of you are going to make me take them down anyway so I do what I'm told. . . He's my Dad and I know not to argue."

Later, "Dad's been spanking me for as long as I can remember and I guess he will as long as I live here with him and mom." "When I was younger, I used to get spankings more often, sometimes more than one a day when we were working outside and all. . . When I was maybe 10-14, I got spanked a lot 'cause I was young and wanted to do things he didn't like and I didn't work hard at school or around the farm and I got spanked, paddled too, a lot for it. A couple of years ago, I felt he should stop and just keep me in my room maybe like some of my friends get, but one day when I did something wrong in the field, I don't remember what, and he got very angry when I told him that. He didn't care about what my friends got, I remember him yelling at me. So he took down my pants and spanked me over his lap right there to teach me, then he made me get a twig from a tree and he whipped me with it. I remember how horrible when he made me lay over a log so he could whip me with that twig. I was very scared and it hurt a lot! It was the worst whipping I ever got and I learned not to object or argue with him for sure. I don't. He's my Dad so he decides. Since he got hurt he hasn't spanked me, but before it was maybe once or twice a week for sure I could count on. That why he called you. I like it when it's just my spanking he gives me cause it doesn't hurt too from him."

What's it feel like and what good does it do? He was real clear: "It hurts like hell when he uses his paddle or belt, but spankings hurt too you know, especially when you do it!" But, "Yea, it makes me realize what I did wrong and what I've got to improve, gets my attention for sure." He talked on and finally said, "Sure it does help me though. Like the last couple of months when you've been gone and he's hurt, I felt kind of strange cause I know I'm doing some things but he can only yell. Then, when he told me you were coming back and would strap me, I got real scared, real scared, and started watching things real careful. He told me you would come but he didn't tell me when. I got really worried and was real careful to do things right and all. That was the worst part, waiting. In some ways I feel better now you've whipped me and it's over and we can be friends. Yea, it hurt worse when you did it, but it's so embarrassing when you take off my pants and I know I let you down, but I don't mean to let you down. I just do, then I'm sorry and regret it cause I know what you'll think."

How does he feel about my spanking him? "Ah, I never really thought about that. You're family to me, but it hurts more when you spank me and I'm more embarrassed in front of you and I worry more about it honestly."

And, "But you know sometimes I know I shouldn't do something but I just get going on doing it anyway, but it may sound crazy but if I know you or Dad are around, it's scary cause I know you both'll spank me anytime. I don't like it when you spank me, especially you, so I'm always trying my best when you're around so you don't have to spank me, Dad too! Yea, I know you're both trying to help me grow up best, but still it hurts like hell to have your ass spanked, worse still with a paddle or that strap you used tonight. I mean like do you know how much it hurt when you whipped me tonight? I'm not going to risk that again for sure! My ass is still on fire even now and we've been talking for what maybe three hours now!"

The next days things were normal on all fronts. We took off on bikes for about 4 hours, his mom made some great pies, I drove his Dad to the physician's, Andre's finishing up his summer job and when he's not, he's always around either working or just hanging out talking. Great guy! I'm back on the road in a few days. Andre's Dad's thanked me [don't read too much into it], said he'd "already noticed a difference" [he always says that] but it's nice to hear anyway. Andre got just what he needed: his bare ass whipped and pulled back into line. Nothing more.

Just some good and careful care to a boy growing up who needed it then.

Hope I've finally answered all your notes? If not, sorry! Ask again.

Cal


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