Sean cowered close to the wall inside his bedroom, his private sanctuary and about the only place where he felt he could be himself and be safe from all the others. He'd been slapped before, sometimes; but the pain from this crack across his face had been unexpected, heavy, too strong, and left a partial red imprint from at least some of the hand's fingers that had struck him. He'd cried for sure, more out of shock than any actual pain this time, but he was used to crying around here. Still he hated it when he did. That only seemed to make it worse for him because then one of them would usually spank him. But he had cried and now they had sent him to his room and told him to strip.
It didn't matter about his age. When they disciplined him, he cried. Like I said, he was used to it. Maybe too used to crying.
His naked body was far better than any of the other guys his age. It was a combination of good genes, luck, and good success on the playing field where he could excel and be apart from them. Though he was lean, his muscles were beginning and showed definition. He was almost hairless. His large blue eyes were watery though, his cheek still showed the redness and his coal black hair flopped down seductively over his forehead and often hid his eyes when he hung his head forward. The longer hair itself was some protection in its own small way as it too gave him some privacy.
He cowered there. Waiting, listening, tense, almost shaking in the night air, just waiting.
The paddle hung beside the door of his closet. He'd felt it too and often, bare when he was stretched across their lap, made to spread himself over for it. That paddle hung there for him as he looked up at it. It hurt and made him cry too, but it wasn't as bad as the fine thin switches that were discretely hidden in the huge dry floral arrangement that stood by the French doors downstairs. The switches really hurt, but more from the surprise and shock of the whole thing. The switch made him dance wildly but also sing out in pain for it as he'd never been able to hold still and stay down and in place when the switch swiped his bare buns. The switches were closer, more at hand to them downstairs and thus, unfortunately, because of that he felt them more often than that paddle which required his going and getting it and bring it back down for them. He got the paddle on his bare ass over their lap. He'd been getting it that way for years. And, the more he cried the more it cracked across his buns. It was as if they wanted him to cry as much as possible. He no longer had any shame. He didn't care. Yes, that paddle hurt like hell when they gave it to him, and left him beside himself in tears.
"Dad'll paddle." His mom would look at him and say to remind him. He hated those words, cause Dad always did!
But she'd also smirk and sometimes add, "or maybe I will right now."
Sometimes she did. They Dad would paddle him later all over again!
Still the switch when pulled out of that floral arrangement stung and brought tears to his eyes the quickest. It was easy for one of them to come in with him after they'd been to the store or picked him up from school or something and walk in and see that floral arrangement there. It was almost as if the whole purpose of that floral arrangement was to remind them what he needed.
And it often did. All the time. He always saw it there and wanted to run away.
Not infrequently the family would come in and they'd say, "Why don't you give me that package and I'll take it into the kitchen, while you drop those jeans and your briefs and I'll use the switch on you in just a minute?'
_d_a_m_n_! Sean thought. But, he'd give them the packages in his hands and do it to, drop them, his jeans to his ankles, then pull down his briefs as well and Sean would be waiting there like they wanted him, bare with his ass over the back of the couch by the time they finished in the kitchen and one came back to find him there while they selected a switch from that arrangement to give it to him with. Sure it hurt! They'd pat his bare ass slowly, talk to him softly and slowly, then they'd whip him! Striping his bare ass good. Sometimes they'd tell him why, what he'd done wrong? But sometimes they'd just whip him! In a family like this, they didn't say much about anything, didn't need to after all, but when they decided he needed that switch, he got it!
Sometimes the switch would even break, but there were always extra ones they bought somewhere and had placed there in that arrangement waiting to be used on his bare ass, "for your education" as they put it.
Sean was one of those boys who needed a lot of "education."
Whenever he was around that place with any of his friends, he always avoided going anywhere near that arrangement. And for good reason! When they decided he needed it, they just didn't care much who happened to be around. He got it.
But, still, he didn't want ANYONE to know! He just avoided that part of the house.
Then there was the razor strap down in the basement where you couldn't miss it if you happen to wander down there. The Cellar was often damp and musty from years of having things stored there and it was built completely underground which kept the air cool and stale, but still that huge wooden pillar in the center of the Cellar that helped support the upper levels stood there and couldn't be missed. Two aluminum rings shined brightly high up at the top of that pillar, so high that when he had to raise his hands up there to be hooked, they required he stood on his tip toes. Naked he'd stretch his body up that pole like a snake and struggle as he hung there. An old leather strap hung there two, unable to be missed right there. That old strap curled across his base ass inescapably no matter how much her jerked or tried to escape it. There was no escaping it. The strap hurt a lot.
The fragrant smell down there had a life of it's own and in Sean's mind, it was forever associated with the old leather strap and a whipping from him on his bare back and bottom. They'd put a piece of an old gray carpet around that pole and another one, about four feet by four feet, over by the work bench. Sean's being told to go down there meant one and only one thing: standing on that carpet near the work bench and stripping down completely, everything, shoes socks, everything and standing there completely naked, tall, yet scared to death until they'd come down to find him there.
And his cloths had to have been be folded neatly on that bench as well. The old leather strap with all the smell of well used, well oiled, and well kept leather would come down off the hook where it held a special place in Sean's memory. They used black leather ring cuffs to put around his writs and force him to stand up against the pillar to be hooked there. Sean didn't know what those cuffs were until years and year's later he saw some in San Francisco! Back then, at that point, there was no need thinking about things. The cuff rings would go on those hooks that moved up as he got taller and older and he'd feel their palm on his ass and balls of his tightly stretching and taunt body while they'd remind him what he'd done wrong and better not repeat. Then that strap would land across his bare ass just as it had across the asses of many boys in the family for decades down there. And he'd scream, just like his older male relatives surely must have as well. There was no escaping it. And, it only got worse as he got older!
But the hand was worse, at least in Sean's young mind. Anytime he was anywhere with both of them or just one, whenever he was with them almost anywhere that hand could bring comfort or shocking, searing pain. When that hand touched his face or bottom, even just the seat of his jeans, it always immediately made him extremely tense. There was no way to know if he'd be slapped, caressed, or just plain spanked. And the hand required no advanced preparation. They could enter a hotel or any room and the next thing he knew his jeans were being taken down and he'd be getting spanked over one of their knees.
It was what a boy needed.
Sean knew he got spanked a lot, far more than any of his other friends for sure. Sometimes he didn't even know why either. And it didn't seem to matter how good things were going for him or how well he listened and obeyed or even how good his school stuff came back from the teachers with their notes of praise. In his family, corporal punishment was very much still believed in. There wasn't much discussion or even warning. The best way to bring up a boy, even a younger man his own age, was always to emphasize things with a firm crack right across the boy's bare bottom. It had always been that way in his family.
It still was today! Sean got spanked a lot!
But he felt comfortable in his room now, cowering still a bit. Was it over or wasn't it? He didn't know. His face was still tear streaked already but he didn't know if that door he'd quietly shut when he ran in his room was going to open and he'd see something in their hand waiting for him or if suddenly a voice was going to boom out and call him downstairs or what?
His _c_o_c_k_ stirred a bit in his jeans. He hated that. Why did it do that? The pain was bad enough, but something aroused him when he didn't know what was coming. His ass under his jeans felt alive somehow too. It couldn't be to red or very rosy because he hadn't been spanked today yet or even yesterday. Sometimes around here that in itself could be cause for their giving him one, "just to keep you on your toes," they'd say.
But, it did keep him on his toes too and he knew it! Some mornings when he showered he'd wiggle around bending to look at it to see how white, though more likely it was how red, it was. Through the fogged up mirror he could even look at himself more closely. His buns were good and tight and always made him look good in his Levi's, but if those buns got too white he'd know it wouldn't be too long before they'd realize it and "rectify that!"
"Rectify that!" He hated those words! He'd heard them all his life growing up and how still. "Rectify that" always mean he'd be given a long spanking later that evening. At times the paddle would be brought out "to even things out." It didn't matter. He'd go over their lap bare and they'd start to give it to him. It only took a few minutes and he'd be bawling his eyes out again.
But today he'd just been slapped and sent crying to his room.
"Don't you know better than that?" the words still rang out in his mind vividly "Now you get up to your room and stay there, boy!"
What has he done? Sean hadn't stuck around to hear more and he certainly didn't want to be close enough to feel that palm smack his face again. He flew out of that room and bounded up the stairs, three at a time, with his buns filling out his jeans seductively in the process, his hair flying wildly, while the tears he could no longer control rolled down his face.
But he didn't slam the bedroom door or yell anything stupid or like that. No way! He knew better than that! He'd slammed the door recently by accident, the wind from the window caught it and blew it shut hard, and because of that accident which no one believed was an accident no matter how hard he tried and tried to convince them it really was, he found himself on his tip toes struggling and crying for all he was worth as he hugged that old firm pillar again and their strap curled again and again across and all the way around his bare ass. He'd screamed.
The Cellar was made of old lake stones, very thick, about 150 year ago. It was deep, partly because there was a cold cellar for fruits and preserves down there that hadn't been used for decades but it had been built to keep it cool down there. Unfortunately there were no windows and down there he could scream and cry as much as he wanted as no one could hear outside that house.
Then again, even if some of his screams reached through the house and outside, there was no one to hear anyway. The house sat back on a 15 acre old farm homestead with the house on the lake shore. No boats ever came down there and there were no curious neighbors.
For sure he'd shut the door carefully and went unthinkingly to the corner he was still cowering in, leaning his one shoulder against the wall, his head in his hands, sobbing, but sobbing as quietly as he knew how from over the years.
Sean felt OK there in that particular place. When he'd been young, he'd had to stand there in that corner with his pants and underwear down and off after he'd been spanked. Mom spanked him a lot back then. He was just always getting into trouble for one thing or another. He knew every pattern in that wallpaper and every nick or tear brought back memories as he stared at it now. He'd been a small, cute toe-head, bright yellow hair and smiling and cheerful. Everyone like him and he was popular with the teachers and all the kids in his school. Maybe being so cute and popular was not such a blessing after all. Both Mom and Dad seemed to always be spanking him a lot and the teachers didn't hesitate much either.
But then he matured and grew into adolescence. Somehow his frame lengthened as he got taller and taller but his now long blond hair stayed with him so far, though less bright. He had those attractive shark blue eyes you couldn't help notice and red lips that smiled all the time that made him still so popular. In the high school football uniform with shoulder pads he had no problem at all getting attention for any of the girls he wanted. But he was far too cute for a boy and far too boyish for a football player. His stomach muscles began to take shape from the football and wrestling work outs and he learned just how attractive he was then. The shower room was always somewhat of a problem as at first he was embarrassed that the other guys would see and could tell he was still being spanked, but after awhile that became a joke among them all as some of them, even the biggest ones, were still spanked too back then. But his cute boyish manner and good looks attracted the girls, the boys, and not a few adults in the community too.
The first time the captain of the football team mentioned how "enticing" his buns were, he was embarrassed, but when he realized how good it felt to have the captain rub his buns and later that night he began to experiment with pleasure. When he'd been paddled at home, he'd dream about that captain and take the first chance he could get to be alone with him in a place where the captain could "massage" (the term they liked to use even though it was much more and both knew it) him privately and bare. He'd often cum feeling much better about things then.
Sean liked it with that team Captain and especially liked it when he'd be told to strip while he watched and then the Captain would give him a few more to get him "more hot back there" and then take him further and make him feel good, accepted, and wonderful. Sean felt OK.
And the girls he wanted didn't seem much to care he'd sometime be out with them after having been spanked either. Actually, they teased him about it, telling him, in a very erotic way, his ass was red and asking him what he'd done now? But, they seemed to get especially excited about his giving it to them and pumping away when his own bare bottom was scarlet like that.
Sean could get what he wanted and what he wanted in high school was as much "action" as he could get. He got it!
But he still got spanked and slapped at home too. That didn't change as he went through high school at all. It was almost as if the more he grew and the more attractive he became, the more control they always imposed.
"Control" in that house ALWAYS involved the paddle, switch or razor strap or, just a good old fashioned spanking.
For Sean, the school bus ride had never been less than an hour and twenty minutes one way as he grew up. Then there was the long walk, about a mile, from the bus pick up place to that house. But, he'd better always be on time.
When he could drive their old pick up, he did, but still, he'd better be on time!
Lord, help him if he wasn't!
"Where have you been?" They'd barrel out. It didn't matter what legitimate reason has delayed him after school or after practice. Notes from the teacher or coach didn't help, nothing. For sure, if he was late at all it would be time for a spanking. And immediately he'd be over one of their laps, his jeans and white briefs all the way down, with his bare bottom up where everyone could see it. He get spanked.
As time went on and he cowered there in his favorite spot, though, the door still hadn't opened. They'd still not yelled for him to come downstairs either. His tears left and he began to feel maybe it was over. Sean moved to his desk and began to arrange things. Maybe this time would be different? Maybe this time that slap across his face was all it was going to be.
Sean stood up and sat on the edge of his bed. He started to get dressed. He pulled the white tie on his Nikki shoes, but he stumbled and the shoes dropped hard on the polished hard wood floor. Immediately he regretted his action. Would they hear them fall and come for him?
He finished dressing then he thought better of it and knew he shouldn't quickly Sean peeled off his white athletic socks and stood up barefoot walking to the closet. He unbuttoned his denim shirt and hung in the closet again. Next came his white T-shirt pulled over his well formed chest. He unbuckled his belt buckle and yanked that belt from his jeans, putting it inside. Sean didn't like belts and would wear them if it hadn't been necessary. Too many times growing up he'd felt the belt from his own jeans cracking across his ass when they'd been out somewhere and he'd been spanked. He looked at this one and he remembered how much it could hurt, but he had to wear one. It was not pleasant to wake up each morning and pull something through the loops on your jeans that you might feel later, but that was what they wanted. He had to always wear a belt.
He stood there stripped to his waist. His body was hairless, tan from working outside stripped, his jeans hugged his ass and exposed his endowment. Looking in the mirror he knew he looked good! A bit of blond hair under both arms, not much around his pecs, then just a wisp running from his belly bottom down under his Levi 501 jeans. Well built. Lean lanky.
He looked good and he knew it. That good college boy smile was there too, pure white teeth as he smiled. In fact he looked like any other good looking college boy at that point, stripped to his waist. But for one exception. His left cheek was still red, very red, from where they had slapped him.
Still the door hadn't opened and no one had called.
He stripped down completely. His jeans came down and off and as he turned to hang them in his closet, the tight cotton briefs showed his promise.
Sean pealed them down and put them in his closet as well. He was naked. He looked at himself in the mirror. Good, well formed _c_o_c_k_ jutting lazily out of that blond short bush of hairs. Balls hanging low.
His ass was tightly formed and beautiful, still rosy from a few nights ago but it was unmarked. They were good at that.
Sean sat down, in his desk chair like that, naked, waiting. He pulled his left foot up on the chair, leaned his left elbow on his knee, his head resting on his head and waited. He stared at the door pointlessly.
But there was nothing else he could do but wait, his legs separated now, his _c_o_c_k_ was almost pointing to the heel of his left foot on that chair, waiting, just waiting.
He knew he was just waiting for them to come. He was waiting to get it again.
And he got it too. Later that night the door had opened! The light from the hall silhouetted their frame as they stood there. And a switch was in their hand.