Hi. My name is Daniel, and my father has asked me to write this as part of my punishment. He wants me to write down an account of why and how I was punished, and then he said he would send it off to an internet page where other people could see how badly I had behaved, and what the appropriate punishment for a naughty 15 year old boy should be.
I wasn't punished for doing anything that much out of the ordinary, but because I had done it once too often. I had bunked off school because it was Games day, and I didn't like the way that the Games teacher picked on me, or the way that some of the other boys laughed when he did. My dad went off early to work as usual, kissed me, said goodbye and then told me to be sure and get to school safely. I just went straight back to my bed, knowing that dad wouldn't be back from work till later that evening. He wouldn't have known anything about me not going to school.
I got up at 10am, and went to fix myself some breakfast. But, just as I was pouring out some orange juice, I heard the key in the front door. I didn't have time to do anything, as the front door looks straight down the hall into the kitchen.
It was dad.
He had forgotten some tools he needed for the plumbing job he was helping with, and had come home to pick them up. He didn't shout but just asked me calmly why I wasn't in school. I thought that if I told him he would understand, and he did understand a little, but told me that I was still wrong - that I should have told him earlier, that I should have gone to school to face people, and that I shouldn't be such a wimp. 'Wait there', he said, and went into the hall.
He phoned his work and told them that he had some 'family business' to attend to and that he couldn't come in that afternoon. He came back into the kitchen - 'I haven't spanked you since you were very little, and when your mother was still around, but today I am going to give you a good walloping to help you on the road to becoming a man. You've been acting like a little girl for far too long and I'm going to have to beat some sense into you. So this afternoon, I am going to give you a good beating. The pain and the humiliation will do you the world of good. Now go into the front room, draw the curtains and take all of your clothes off.'
'But dad...'
'Do as I say, or I'll use more than my hand. Its about time I showed you who is boss around here anyway. I've been thinking of beating you for a while and you've just given me the opportunity. Now, if you don't want to make it a lot worse for yourself, do as I say.'
I couldn't believe what was happening, but I love my dad very much and so just went and did what he said. When he came into the front room I was standing in the middle of it naked, trying to cover my skinny body, hand in front of my dick and balls, shivering through cold and fear. He just sat down in his favourite leather armchair and beckoned me over. He was still wearing his work overalls, and they were stretched tight across his thighs as he spread his legs slightly, expecting me to lie across his lap.
'But Dad...'
'Right son, stop moaning. That's it. You're getting the belt as well. But first of all...'
And with that, he lunged over and grabbed me, placing me firmly over his knees, locking me in place with his left arm. And then it came. The first of many. His strong right hand slapped against the cheeks of my naked bottom, each one stinging more than the last. I started crying at one point, about 7 or 8 minutes into the spanking, but then stopped. I was exhausted. I had no more tears.
Then he stopped.
'Go up to your room. I'll be there in a moment.'
On the way up, I caught sight of my bottom in the hall mirror. It was bright red. I ran upstairs and threw myself on the bed, face down. I think it was about five minutes before Dad came in behind me. I didn't look up but he just grabbed hold of me. He is really quite strong. A lot stronger than me. He stood me up, turned me around to face the bed, and pushed me over so that my bottom was facing up. I heard him take a belt out of the loops of his trousers. He had changed into a jeans and t-shirt in the time I had been waiting. He laid into me. Hard. 'First of eight strokes boy.' WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP!
I heard him take a deep breath. The way that he had laid into me must have made him sweat a little. I turned round, looked at him and said sorry. When I saw him there, sweating, in his t-shirt, his arms strong, I knew that it was like him that I needed to be, and that this was the way to do it.
Dad must have thought so, because he said that I would get another eight strokes of the belt every night for the rest of the week and that they would be even harder as they wouldn't be preceded by a spanking.
In the meantime, he told me to write this account so that I wouldn't forget, and so that he could send it on to others.
Thank you for reading.