It was one of those nights. Nothing was going right for me. No matter what I said or what I did, it wasn't right in my Dad's eyes. It seemed like he was itching for a fight, and I seemed to be bound to get into it with him.
I don't remember exactly what started it all, but I think it was some question that Dad asked me, and I wasn't about to tell him the truth, because I knew it would get me a good old-fashioned whipping over his knees. So I lied and told him something different. Unfortunately this was one lie he caught me in. I knew when he discovered my lie, I would be in deep trouble. I was already rubbing my backside, even before he uttered those famous words I had heard before: "That's it boy. You're gonna get an ass-warming so hard you won't sit down for a week! Get over here NOW!
Normally I would do what he said right away, but not this time. I decided to challenge him. I was about 12 at the tiime, and I told him NO to his face. I was too old to get whipped any more, at least as I saw it. But he didn't see it that way at all.
"Get your ass over here right now and bend over my knees! I don';t want to hear another word out of you either, or I will give it to you worse than I"m gonna. Do you understand me, boy?
I understood fine, but I still protested what he was going to go to me, and put my foot down literally, stomping my shoes on the floor. Wrong thing to do. I could see his face getting redder by the minute, as he said it just one more time.
"Get over here right now, 'cause if I have to come and get you you're gonna get whipped so hard you are gonna feel it for more than a week. You won't sit down for a month. Now get over here and do what I say. Bend over my knees NOW!"
Dad very seldom ever gave us a bare butt whipping. He always allowed us to keep our clothes on. I had come home from school and already changed into my jeans. They were a relatively new pair of JC Penney's Foremost jeans that most of the kids in my days wore, with two inches of cuff rolled up at the ankles, as was the style of the day.
I knew there was no way around this one. I was gonna get it and get it good and hard, so I didn't prolong it any longer. I walked over to him sitting in that big chair he always sat in, and I finally did what he told me. I bent over his knees. I was already preparing for the worse, but I guess I wasn't as prepared as I though I was.
He quickly grabbed hold of my right hand, and held it tight to the small of my back, so I couldn't rub my butt or get my hands in the way. And then he laid into me with the back of his hand. He had big hands, and any time you got whipped you felt it all the way through your jeans.
"You know better than to lie to me, Don't you? " WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK! Each whack came down harder, or so it felt.
"Are you sorry you got so smart with me, 'cause if you arent't then you are gonna get more, and a lot harder. Understand?"
Before I could say a word, he was at it again....and harder, too. WHACK, WHACK WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. That hand was reallly striking home on my butt. It had already gone beyond stinging any more. My butt was on fire. I could feel the heat coming from my butt, right through those blue jeans. And he wasn't finished yet.
"Are you gonna lie to me again? I'm gonna make you learn from this one, boy. Have you learned yet? I don't think so. I guess you need some more to think about.
I couldn't say anything. By this time I was already crying my eyes out, the tears running down my cheeks. And he wouldn't let me up. I was in for more yet. WHACK, OUCH! WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!
Please, Dad, stop it, you're hurting me. I promise I won';t lie to you again. Please stop whipping me." I begged. But it was to no avail. He kept it up, one hard whack after the other, until I was screaming so loud everybody in the neighborhod could probably hear me.
Then, just as quickly as he started, he stopped, and shouted out at me, "Don't you ever try that little stunt you pulled tonight. As long as you live under my roof, you WILL respect me, or you'll get your butt whipped harder than you got it tonight. And the next time it will be with your pants down!
Dad was right. My Foremosts were on fire when I got up, and I don';t think I sat down for at least a week. I got up from his lap and he ordered me into a corner to stand and think about what I had done for a while. I rubbed my butt all the way over to the corner, still crying, and feeling the heat coming off the back of my jeans. I stood there for about an hour before he let me come out.
The whole time my brother Wayne had this _s_h_i_t_-eating grin on his face. I just kept thinking that his little bubble-butt was going to get it sooner or later, and then I would be grinning after his punishment. And yes...that time would come...later that same night when Wayne disobeyed Dad. His Wranglers would soon enough be burning, too. Dad was on a roll and he wouldn't stop until we were both sent to bed. I didn't sleep on my backside, and neither did Wayne.
P. S. These stories I tell are true stories from my past, and almost always they will include my be-jeaned backside. Besides the fetish I have for spanking (learned from all those sessions with Dad) I have grown to a second fetish... blue jeans. I find the old adage: "I go nuts for Wrangler butts" is true for me. I get turned on by a guy in tight blue jeans...Wranglers, Levi's, etc. Does any one else feel the same. Please feel free to e-mail me. I may not answer to keep my anonymity, but I would love to hear your stories or read them in the archive before it goes down for good. Thanks! Mikeo24