This is an expanded version of the story that I originally posted almost two years ago. It still is fiction. It contains scenes of male/male domination, spanking, and shaving. If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i. e., child) please stop reading now.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments -- pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.
It was a few days after midterms and, because of a local holiday, they were both home when the bell rang twice followed by the thump of the mail on the floor after it was pushed though the mail slot. Mixed in with the bills, appeals, ads and magazines was the letter that they were both dreading might/would come. It was in a crisp white #10 envelope with a neatly typed address and the equally simple return address of the high school. It was ominous in its traditional simplicity as the reverse of last leaf of the bible marked with a black spot was inTreasure Island.
They let it sit on the table, unopened, for some time. The address was ambiguous: Mr. Sam Smith. They both thought back to the weekend before midterms. Each knew that he (and the other one) should have been studying full-time, but they had both gone out with their friends and neglected their studies. It was against THE RULES. The strict rules that they had devised for themselves so that they would both reach their goals. It was their own sacred covenant. It was not the going out that was punishable; that was not prohibited. It was not failing that was the violation; that was its own punishment. It was poor judgment and neglect of responsibility that were the infractions; the punishment was clearly defined in THE RULES.
THE RULES that they both knew well. THE RULES called for a traditional trip to the woodshed. His only uncle had told him tales of how effective this was when Grandpa Zak did it. Their woodshed was actually the garage. It was over the car the transgressor would go. He would be bent over -- naked. Then he would be strapped -- hard. It had happened a couple of times already. Neither liked it but knew that it was the right thing. Alas, a necessary thing.
They were both thinking about the last time THE RULES had come into effect like this. Sam had cut a class and there had been a letter from The Principal. They went to the garage and the youth stripped, handed his father his wide, thick, leather garrison belt, bent over the car and (with more fear and trepidation in his voice than he would ever admit) said: "Do your duty." Sam paused as he looked at the smooth muscular butt of his almost fully grown son. But he knew what he must do. He raised the folded belt and brought it down on the waiting target with a resoundingWHACK!for the first time. Immediately, a red strip appeared clearly marking exactly where the leather had kissed the flesh of his only and most beloved son. Again the belt flew down caressing the waiting behind just below the first strip. WHACK!and the second strip appeared -- just as red as the first. Eight more times he raised the belt and brought it down hard. Emotionally he hurt more than did his son. The youth's butt was a deep red and very hot when he finished. They hugged. Words were not necessary. It was never discussed. It was all clear in THE RULES.
Together, they opened the letter and read it. It was as they had feared. Two failed midterm exams. There was an admission (confession?). It was apparent that poor judgment and negligence had occurred. The punishment was defined in THE RULES. Discussion was redundant. They went to the garage.
Just as was previously described, Sam stripped and bent over the car. The belt was raised and then swiftly lowered to the upturned backside. WHACK! The strip appeared. Again WHACK!and againWHACK!the belt contacted the target -- hard -- very hard until the prescribed count of thirty was reached. He had done his duty but he did not like it. THE RULES had been followed. The grip on the belt was relaxed and it fell to the floor.
The youth ran to his room. Tears were streaming down his checks. He fell down on his bed still crying. A few minutes later his father came and held him -- tightly, lovingly and caringly. After while the youth asked his father the question that had been bothering him for a long, long time and now was uppermost in his thoughts.
"Dad, why didn't Grandpa Robert spank you so you would have finished high school like you should have when you were a kid? It was his duty not mine."
© Copyright A. I. L., July 1, 1997
Junior had gotten a summer job which had him working an early swing shift. It was a good opportunity to save money for college starting in the fall. The factory at which Sam worked followed an old practice of a two week shutdown for plant maintenance and simultaneous vacations for everyone. This resulted in a strange household: dad was going to school and Junior was going to work. Even though dad was still getting his full pay, there was a definite role reversal in many activities. Dad did more chores about the house and Junior picked up dad each evening from school on the way home. During the drive back to their home, the conversation was always about how dad was doing in class. With the underlying authority of THE RULES and the physical position of being in command of the vehicle these conversations made them both feel like they were son and father rather father and son. This particular evening the reversal feeling were especially strong for dad had just admitted to having failed another test.
Neither of them were looking forward to getting home. The combinations of THE RULES, the failure and the neglect of his studies by going out required a punishment session later that evening. They both knew it and either was not happy with the idea. They both knew it was necessary. They both knew that it would happen.
Junior became very quiet as he drove for he was thinking about what had happened when he was a freshman. It was shortly after he had grown pubes and was excessively pursuing the opposite _s_e_x_ causing his grades to suffer. His father had used progressively harsher punishments for that. At first it was just lectures, then restrictions, then spankings, then strappings and then finally a pubic shave accompanied by a little boy like OTK bare bottom spanking. Junior had been mortified but it had been an effective technique. He was then able to achieve a proper balance between school and social activities.
After having their late dinner, they got to confront the issue. They had the usual discussion about application and expectations but more intense than usual. Junior showed that he had really been listening years earlier for he lectured his father just like he had been. He truly wished that Grandpa Robert had been as tough on his son as had Grandpa Zac had been with his. Normally if Junior had spoken to his father using expressions such as "Boy, your ...." and with the tone of voice he used he would have had his head handed to him. But, there was a very special dynamic acting now, supported by their contract known as THE RULES. Then Junior directed his dad to go to the garage and wait over the hood.
When Junior entered the garage, there was a naked youth waiting nervously and fearfully bent over the hood of the car. He raised the heavy belt and brought it crashing down on the waiting butt.
WHACK! "Why are you here?" he demanded.
"Because I failed the test."
WHACK! "Why are you here, boy?"
"Because I did not apply myself, Sir."
Although it had the mind of a youth it was not the body of a youth feeling the belt, but that of man so Sam continued strapping him much longer than would otherwise have been the case. When the man was sobbing like a youth, Sam stopped with the belt and lead him inside to the bathroom.
"Into the tub, boy." he ordered and the boy-man meekly obeyed silently. Sam then took the same barber clipper that his father had used on his pubes several years earlier and used then on the cowed youth standing naked before him. It did not take long for the thick bush to fall into the tub like the needles from an old dried up pine tree in the forest. Then he got the shaving cream and covered the clear-cut pubes with a thick layer of foam. As he drew the razor across the skin the stumps of the hairs and the foam were both removed leaving baby smooth skin. When he was satisfied he rinsed the reside off and dried the boy.
Moments later they were in the boy's bedroom. Sam sat on the bed and again questioning the boy. "What happens to naughty boys who don't do their school work and play around?"
"They get spanked and grounded, Sir." the boy whispered.
"Exactly." Sam confirmed as he pulled the pliant boy over his lap. The still red strapped butt was now a boy's tender bottom ready for a sound spanking. Sam raised his hand and slammed it into the target hard. The boy yelped. Over and over Sam smacked the red hot bottom until the boy was whimpering. Then he stopped and hugged the boy for a long time. He told him that he loved him and that he was sorry to have spanked him. The boy, in turn, admitted his transgressions and promised to do as he should.
They went to bed. The boy slept prone as spanked boys are wont to do. Sam Junior had a fitful night. He worried whether or not he had done the right thing.
It was mid-morning when Junior got up. He found his father very diligently studying at the kitchen table. He was sitting on a cushion.
"Good morning Junior. I'm sorry I won't be able to go to the game this afternoon as we had planed. I have a lot of studying to do."
"Good morning Dad. No problem, I'm way behind with the lawn work."
The author would appreciate your comments.