In 1997-98, I posted a series of true-life stories that got a lot of very positive e-mail response from readers of this website. I never finished the series, until now. In reviewing these original submissions, I have edited these stories and now repost them with typo corrections, etc. These repostings will be done every couple of days, and the series completed with new stories. This series begins when I was 11, and ends a year ago, with the stories posted chronologically. Enjoy!

My parents were no dummies. My junior and senior year of high school turned out to be a blast. My grades were OK, Cs & Bs, much to the dismay of them and my teachers. I tested high, very high through out school life, and never achieved the potential of those test scores until college. It wasn't that I misbehaved, hell I was considered a school leader as the school newspaper editor and an officer in a half a dozen clubs. Then they made a fateful decision just before Christmas my senior year. No college! Go to the service, son!

Until March, I thought I could change their minds. They bought none of it. They were drawing upon the experiences of my sister, who had a real tough time of it, without screwing off. They knew their oldest son, and he would have screwed off. They let my little brother Bill suck them in two years later....and he blew it off big time and wound up in the Navy. So I started looking for the best deal.

My test scores were interesting to the Air Force, Navy and Army in that order. But the Army had the most intriguing openings in areas that appealed to me. Sean Connery had burst upon the scene as James Bond in junior high, and I thought that Army Intelligence had a nice ring to it. My test scores got me a guaranteed slot in a branch of Army Intelligence called the Army Security Agency. Boy, I thought this wouldn't be too bad.

When I hit Fort Leonard Wood, I found out just how special ASA was. My first day I was marched to a small isolated building with one room in it. There sat an officer whose sole job was to make sure that ASA recruits made it through basic without _f_u_c_k_ing up. My basic training company top sergeant was not pleased that he had one of me in his training cycle. The ASA officer made it clear what I was supposed to do and not do. Each week he and I met for 5-10 minutes. The first time I got paid, I got $30- extra for being TDY from ASA headquarters in Boston. The other recruits went ape _s_h_i_t_. It happened again when I went to Army Intelligence school at Fort Holabird in Baltimore. About half way through my six-month training, I got my assignment....ASAPAC HQ, Camp Zama Japan. Tokyo here I come!

When I arrived in Tokyo I manned a desk for six weeks, before I was given my ultimate regular duty assignment. My cover was as a college student, going to the local Jesuit college, Sophia University or Joichi Daigaku. I was 18 years old and I was in heaven. There is no finer place for an American teenager to grow up to adulthood, than Tokyo.

My college courses were at night in what was termed the "International Studies Program", since all the courses were taught in English. I took about 6-9 hours a semester, based upon what was projected for me to do outside of Japan, in such tough duty areas as SE Asia and Korea. In the first week of my "Introduction to American History" course, I met two interesting people.

The first was the instructor, a middle-aged Jesuit priest who taught me one my most valuable lessons in life. "Thou shall not attempt to drink a Jesuit brother under the table." It took too many lessons from him on that course, before I finally learned the inevitable truth, I couldn't do it....not even close. Plus, he was great history teacher.

The second person was Geoff MacLeod. He was almost child like in appearance. He was short, 5'4", a reddish blond curly mop of hair, blue eyes and a tough athletic build. But what grabbed me, he was only 15. His father was an American missionary, and he wanted his son to take college courses in English and History, because he was going to a Japanese high school south of Yokohama. So each Tuesday and Thursday night he took a three-hour round trip train ride to go to a Jesuit college.

Over the course of several weeks, we struck up a great friendship. He was starved for attention from someone American, close to his age. He just didn't have any contact with Americans living where he did and going to school. He had lived in Japan since he was 8, and was bilingual. We started going to beer gardens after school. The first time we had to show our passports, because we both looked young. (My nickname later on was the "Baby Face Sgt".) I was 18, and could drink, he was allowed to stay with me and drink soft drinks. He was most intrigued by the large red letters stamped on my passport,"CLAMP". I blew him off. We were the hit of the beer gardens, because we were young Americans who could speak Japanese, mine poorly at that time. Later on, after living on the native economy, I could think in Japanese.

One Thursday night he asked me to spend the weekend with his family. I was glad for the opportunity and set the time for early Saturday afternoon arrival, since he had to go to school half day, along with his little brother and sister. When I arrived, he was waiting for me at a rural train station south of Yokohama, dressed in his black school uniform, then worn by all Japanese males from 1st through college. We hopped on a bus and rode for about 3 miles up this small mountain, and then got off and walked about another ¼ mile and then we entered his family's world.

His father's mission site was high on a hill, overlooking Tokyo harbor, the village down below us. The church was a small stone structure, obviously built long before WWII. The house was straight out of New England, two story Cape Cod, down to the green shutters. His family came flying out the door as soon as they saw us pass the church.

His father was a duplicate of Geoff, only 5 inches taller. His mother Irene, was almost as tall as Geoff, with dark hair and brown eyes. His brother Bryan was 10, and looked alot like Geoff & his Dad, but with his Mom's coloration. His sister Samantha was 12, and combined the best of both Mom & Dad, and looked like a little 5' doll, just entering puberty. It was a picture perfect family, living in a stunning location.

We spent the afternoon getting acquainted as a group and me being given the grand tour of the church, except for its storm cellar, the parsonage and the surrounding 3-4 acres. They were lucky, privacy in Japan, living close to Tokyo and Yokohama. As Irene and all three kids were preparing the dinner, Ian and I went over to a spot, overlooking the harbor below with his binoculars. We were looking at the ships sailing in front of us, 5-10 miles away. He pointed to a particularly large ship not quite on the horizon and asked me to look at it through his binoculars. I was stunned; these were not everyday binoculars. You could actually make out the shape of the ship, even at this distance.

"What do you think it is Jason?', Ian asked casually.

"Russian destroyer.", I answered without thinking.

"Really, wonder where it's from?', he rejoined.

"Vladivostok", I said even more casually. Ian gave me the strangest look with that answer, like I had done something wrong.

The rest of the visit was like going home to relatives you hadn't seen in several years. All topics were discussed. After the Sunday service in Ian's church, we had an old fashioned Sunday dinner that was very special. Afterwards, I got to go into Ian's study for a chat about Geoff and his siblings. I had been shown the study when I arrived, but I missed three items hanging on the wall, in back of the door. Three black paddles, each a different size. The paddles looked like works of art, because of the high gloss to their lacquer finish.... and definitely got my eyeballs' attention.

Ian laughed.

"Geoff tells me your Dad spanked you as well?", he asked with a hint of smirk to his smile.

"Yes sir, he did. Always the same, with a paddle. Never got one I didn't deserve, so I can't complain.", I answered in my best adult tone, for only being 18.

He then went on to discuss why three paddles. The small one was for Bryan, the second was for Sam, no one called her Samantha, and largest one for Geoff. He felt it unfair to paddle all three of them with the same tool, when physically they were so different. He then got Geoff's and handed it to me.

"God, it was light, but evil looking.", I silently thought to myself. Ian explained that the wood was Japanese, with almost no grain, so the paddle wouldn't split. The color was for effect, and it did look painful.

"Each one comes down from the wall about once a month, some times more. Sam in particular is having a rough time right now, because there are no foreign girls around here at all.", he said alittle sadly.

Over the next few months, ending in August for my 19th birthday, I wound up at the MacLeod mountaintop at least twice a month, each time spending a delightful, fun and sober weekend. (Total contrast to my other weekends in Tokyo.) During these visits, I saw four paddlings. Geoff once. Bryan once. Sam twice.

All were bare butt. Same drill with all three. Stripped to their underpants. OTK with a few hard hand swats on the white cotton underpants during a lecture. Underpants yanked down. Paddle applied with numerous swats. Geoff's was well over 100. He had been caught about to enter the storm cellar, when Ian had left it unlocked by accident. Since Geoff had known better, and several years earlier he had gotten spanked for the same thing....this time his butt got ignited, hot multi-colored red & purple. He was bawling and blubbering afterward, obviously very embarrassed that he had gotten it in front of me, but that is exactly why Ian had done it.

In early September, Ian asked me to come down for a three-day weekend in early October, while he and Irene took the adults of the congregation on a married couple's retreat up around Hakone. I agreed, thinking the kids and I could really have alot of fun. The Army had furnished me with a small four door Renault sedan, so that we didn't have to rely on Ian's car. He also rarely drove it.

In a regular weekend visit, just before the long weekend visit, Ian set down the family rules in front of all three kids. I was given total spanking authority. Geoff swallowed hard, because he had heard about all of my punishment stories from my childhood. He knew he and his siblings could be in for a painful surprise. Then all of the household chores and assignments were gone over, each child understanding their responsibilities during their parent's retreat. Ian asked me if I had anything to say.

"Guys, we will live by the rule of once. One time I speak, next time it will be paddle time. Fair enough?", I asked with my best military voice. All three kids tried to look worried, but still nodded their heads with a slight smile on all three faces.

That week at class Geoff was clearly concerned about me spanking him. I told him it was tough to accept, since he was just three years younger, but the only issue was did he have enough respect for me personally to accept my spanking of him. He thought for just a couple of seconds.

"Yes Jason, I love you like a brother. If I had a brother as old as you, and he was like you, I would respect his authority to spank me.", he said very sincerely. I then gave him a big brother hug, which he emotionally gave back. The weekend was set.

I arrived on Friday afternoon, about an hour before they all got home from school in the village below. Ian went through several emergency numbers, etc. Then he hit me with a strange statement, after he pulled open his desk drawer and pulled out a key.

"Jason, here is the key to the church storm cellar. Don't go in it under any circumstance, unless there is an emergency. If that happens you will know immediately what your duties will be.", he said very seriously. At the time, I thought he was talking about the weather.

Ian and Irene left almost as soon as the kids got home from school, all in their black & white school uniforms. By the time everyone was ready for good bye kisses, they were in "American kids comfortable", right out of the Sears catalogue, which is where they bought all their kids clothes.

Early that night we drove into Yokohama and the lights awed the kids. It thrilled them so much I drove on up to Ginza in Tokyo, no small journey They hadn't seen those lights in years, and so much more had been added. It was 2 in the morning when we got back. Fortunately, I had warned Ian & Irene of my plans, so the late hour was no worry to them if they had called and we weren't there.

The next day was alittle rough on the kids, because they had to get up and still go to school. With alot of complaining they did eventually get it in gear. I went into the village by car to get some additional groceries. I saw the school bus go by the vegetable stand earlier than I thought, but I didn't concern myself with them being left alone for a few minutes. Then a motor scooter and delivery truck had an accident, blocking my car for another 20 minutes.

By the time I got back to the church site I was almost an hour past their arriving home from school. Just as I turned into the drive, I saw Geoff and Bryan running into the house, with Sam holding her shin at the storm door steps, door wide open. I jumped out of the car, and saw that Sam had a nasty scrape, but nothing worse on her shin. She wasn't crying, but I could see she was scared of what she knew was now going to happen.

"Sam, you look alright. Can you walk honey?", I quietly asked. She nodded her head, and took a few steps to prove to me she was all right.

"OK Sam, lets go to the house and see how this happened.", I said with a tone that caused her to start quietly crying. She knew she was going to be paddled, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

When we got to the house, the boys were sitting on the living room couch, nervous as hell. I dressed Sam's scrape and ordered her to sit next to her brothers. I took a chair from the dining room and sat it down in front of them, and took a seat. I crossed my arms, glared at all three of them and asked.

"OK, you know your Dad gave you direct orders not to go into that cellar. You had to sneak into his office desk to even get the key. Now whose fault is this mess?"

They all started to speak at once, a real tower of Babel. Once the stories got debunked, they knew the inevitable was about to happen.

"Geoff. Go replace the key in your father's desk drawer and bring me all three paddles.", I barked. Geoff did it quickly. When he returned I told him to give out each paddle and sit down.

"All right, you know what I have to do, so it doesn't matter what argument you try to give me. Therefore, if you don't adhere to the rule of once, your spanking will be alot worse than what it already is going to be! Geoff, strip to your underwear.", I ordered.

Geoff, slowly took off his school uniform, beginning with his shoes and socks. He piled them neatly in front of the couch, standing in his Sear's white cotton boy's briefs.

"Bryan, you do the same as your brother.", I ordered.

Bryan followed suit. His body was already shaking in fear, from the unknown of my kind of spanking.

"Sam, your turn.", I again ordered.

Sam removed her shoes and socks, then her grey school knickers, leaving her white panties on. After she removed her skirt & blouse, I was ready to tell her to leave her small bra on, when she quickly let it drop. Her small breasts were now on display, and she too was ready for her spanking.

"Bryan, how old are you?", I asked, already knowing the answer.

"10", he replied.

"Sam, how old are you?", I asked.

"12", she hesitantly answered.

"Geoff?", I asked.

"16, Jason", he replied.

"Geoff, what are 16+12+10?", I asked. He swallowed hard as he answered.

"38", he quietly said.

"OK kids, this is what is going to happen. There are three of you. Therefore, you will each get three spankings. The first will be with my hand on your underpants. The second will be with your paddle on your underpants. The third will be on your bare with your paddle. Bryan each of your spankings will be 10 swats. Sam, each of yours will be 12 swats. Geoff, since you are the oldest, and this is your third spanking for this stunt, guess what your count is?", I asked with an intent gaze.

"38?", he stated with a very worried look.

"The right answer Geoff. Now, if you do not do exactly as I say during your spanking, the spanking will start over from the beginning. Any questions?", I barked. Dead silence, except for Sam's sniffling.

"Bryan, leave your paddle on the couch and come here and bend over my lap!", this time saying it clearly and loudly.

He did as he was ordered. He had the most slender build of all the kids, with swimmer's buns. I smoothed out his briefs, which were little boy baggy.

"WHAP".

He jumped and moaned. By the third swat his legs were kicking and by the sixth he was bawling.

I let him up, with instructions not to rub his buns, and to keep his arms folded across his chest. He stood there, squirming, as Sam took her position without being asked.

The sight of her panties startled me. They were nylon, and they were thin. I could plainly see her ass crack, totally different from Bryan's thick cotton briefs. I adjusted her panties.

"SMACK"

She also jumped and squealed. The second swat, started her crying. By the sixth, her legs were flying all over the place. By the 12th, she was crying and begging. She stood up with the same instructions as her little brother, crying much harder. I glanced over at Geoff.

His face was one of worry. I motioned him over and he did as directed. His briefs were older, thinner and smaller on his butt than his brothers. I peeled over the waistband and saw "Size 14". "No wonder these fit so tight", I thought as I smoothed them out over his bubble butt, his legs with almost no hair.

"SPLAT".

My first swat landed square in the middle of his cheeks, just above his brief's leg openings. He bucked slightly. I gave his spanking much slower, letting each swat sink in, before he got the next. Up and down his cheeks I went. By the 18th swat, he too was beginning to cry, by the 30th his legs were like pistons. He practically fell off my lap after the 38th swat.

"Now comes your first paddling. This is going to hurt even more than my hand spanking, but don't do something that will get you more swats. Bryan, bring me your paddle and bend over.", I ordered.

This time, I rolled Bryan's waistband under three times, to give me a tighter target for his paddle. I then picked up his paddle and tapped it on the tightly stretched cotton of his underpants. I raised my arm up high and brought it down with controlled moderate strength.

"CRACK"

Bryan immediately screamed and started crying. This time, I spanked him as slowly as I had Geoff, causing him to wail even more, with alot of leg action. When he was finished, his face was red from the intensity of his crying.

Sam was already crying as she handed me her paddle. Her thin white panties were slightly pink from the effects of my 12 hand swats on her reddening cheeks.

"CRACK"

Sam heaved and screamed. She reacted much worse to her 12 swats, begging for mercy and promising to be a saint. I grabbed her right wrist and pinned it in the middle of her back. At the 12th swat her panties were a darker shade of pink. She jumped around after she got up, trying to shake the pain out of her butt.

Geoff was really worried now as he approached me with his paddle. I stopped him as he tried to hand it to me. I tightened his briefs twice, and tugged up the waistband in back, uncovering a little of his cheeks. He then bent over, uncovering a little more lower cheek. He put his wrist in the middle of his back and I grabbed it. His butt was now a tight white target, his briefs creasing into his ass crack.

"CRACK"

He cried out and pleaded for mercy. Just like before, slowly and carefully his black paddle stung his hot buns. By the 10th he was openly wailing and bawling. By the 20th he was squirming and twisting, trying to get away from the pain. When I was finished he dropped off my lap partially rolling over, crying and looking up at me with begging eyes. His stomach muscles contracted and twitched with each convulsing cry....causing his waistband to contract and expand. He eventually stood up.

Bryan had stopped crying. I ordered him to remove his underpants and put them with his other clothes. As he bent over, his cheeks were red with slight marks from the two spankings.

"CRACK"

He screamed very loud and resumed crying. This time I tried to give the swats quicker, but still with a pause between each, causing alot of kicking and squirming. The black paddle was in stark contrast to the color of his butt and the white of his upper thighs. This time when he got up, I gave him permission to rub....and he did!

Sam was openly bawling as I pointed to her panties. She pulled them down off her hips and kicked them off when they hit her shins. Her puberty was now on full display, as she bent over. It was obvious her butt was alot more tender than her little brother's.

"CRACK"

Her head snapped back and she screamed. I grabbed her wrist again and buried it in the small of her back. Her kicking and squirming were fierce. She really hated the pain of each swat in her well-marked cheeks. She too rubbed and jumped when it was finally done, joining her little brother's act.

Geoff looked at me with begging eyes. I nodded "No", and he pulled his briefs down and off, exposing his young male puberty to his brother and sister. He bent over and started crying and begging as I adjusted his body for the best spanking angle. He put his arm back for my control. I did and tapped his buns that weren't as bad looking as his brother and sister's despite the length and intensity of his two previous spankings. He flinched. Then I raised the paddle for the beginning of his final spanking.

"CRACK"

He really struggled with the intensity of the swat. I wasted no time with this spanking giving him a rapid series of swats that had him convulsing with the unrelenting onslaught of stinging pain. In less than a minute his final spanking was over and he jumped up screaming and rubbing, not caring one bit at the sight he made.

Soon the crying stopped and I had all three lay on the couch and I rubbed ointment on their throbbing cheeks. They commented their father had never done that for them. I told them I wasn't their father, and this is the way I choose to do things. We discussed the spanking and why it had to happen at length, as I rubbed the ointment into each set of buns. By the time I told them to put back on their underwear and get into some play clothes, I was again their "big brother".

The next spring I had to give Geoff another spanking, to save him from paying a too high a price for a stupid teenager mistake.

(As Paul Harvey would say, "And now for the rest of the story."

There truly is a rest of this story.

In my professional life, I have done clean ups of non-performing sales organizations, especially in the insurance area. I am invited to lecture at certain management seminars. One of the things I do, is act like a Jesuit priest, in classroom lecture. I accept no verbal questions during my lecture. However, if some one at the end of the lecture has a question, he or she must write it down on the back of a business card. [A great way to network folks]

A few years ago, just before lunch break a tardy business card was given to me, back side first. On the card was the following question in Japanese script, "Anatawa Genki Deska, J Chan" It was a Japanese parents way of asking a small child how they felt. The card stunned me, because very few people on this planet had ever used the childish term of "J chan" with me. I turned the card over.

It read, "Ian MacLeod, Lt Cmdr, USN, Ret." I literally grabbed the podium, and the president of the insurance company asked me if I was all right. I nodded yes, and scanned the crowd. Ian stood up and started walking down the aisle. I jumped off the stage and met him with a big hug, and back slaps. We both were in tears, and the president of the company adjourned the meeting for lunch, but no one moved.

"You bastard, you were NSGA weren't you?", I said screaming and laughing. He nodded.

"And you 'Baby Face Sgt' were an ASA OB specialist, special weapons qualified, assigned to TAREX!", he said even louder.

"How did you know?', standing back.

He then went through the rest of the story. When Geoff told him about my "CLAMP" letters on my passport, he knew I was no rich kid, going to school on scholarship at a Jesuit university, thousands of miles from home. Because of his deep cover, he couldn't risk letting his kids play with children of American service personnel. He gambled, and went against orders inviting me to his home the first time. When I identified the class and port of the Russian destroyer, he had known for sure that I no college student English Major, whose part time job was "Research Director" for an unknown company. That first night, when I was asleep, he rifled my luggage and found my .38 snub nose, with its very special ammo. After my first visit, he went all the way back to Navy Hdqtrs in Hawaii to get permission to continue a family relationship with me. My boss, Bill Evans, had approved the communiqué. His message back was to take care of neat kid. Then everything fell into place.

"You couldn't let your kids know what was in that storm cellar could you?", I asked, all eyes and ears of the meeting room still on us both.

"If you had seen the sealed door in back, you would have known what I was, and I couldn't' risk the lives of my children discovering that and then accidentally telling their classmates.", he smiled as the cat was finally out of the bag.

"By the way. I can now thank you for your driving skill the night you hauled some equipment from Oppama to Zama in that "Duece ½". An operative was on to me, and that equipment caught his transmissions to Russia, before his equipment caught me. When I heard who had done it, and the time you took to do it, I wanted to thank you and hug you then, just as I am going to now!", and he really hugged me hard.

Needless to say, it was one hell of a meeting lunch. So much was brought out about my superiors' knowledge of my relationship with Ian, that it blew my mind. Other men at the table were stunned at the ancient history of the 60's & 70's as we knew it to be, not what they had been lead to believe. I now also understood why he had dropped out of sight my senior year of college, and our communication had stopped. He had been reassigned to Washington, D. C. and couldn't tell me until our lucky meeting. We have not lost communication since that meeting. We are again a "family.")

This story is true, just certain names have been modified. I travel in my own business, and have the freedom to safely satisfy the spanking needs of interested readers. No, Japan is not one of my stops.