Dear James,
Sorry I'm slow writing back but I am receiving your e-mails. Chris was here from Washington for the American Spring Break and had permission to stay an extra week to work on a paper for one of his courses. He'll graduate in June. I may be mistaken, but I think I told you he was coming?
Anyway, the initial parts of his visit came off without a hitch. I wasn't too sure it would though. Chris's Dad had followed up on his phone conversation with me and sent along a note, not too long, so I'll type it in here:
"Cal,
"My wife and I want to thank you for your willingness to let Chris visit again. We appreciate all you've done to help him. I remember it was only last April, about this time, when I came up to New York City and you showed me what a difference some discipline had made in my son's life. I've tried to do it myself, you know, though I've not been all that successful -- with the other two, yes; but not with Chris. There's something about his spirit I cannot control.
"The other night, for example, he started swearing while I was paddling him. He no longer refuses to be disciplined, you made sure of that, but maybe you could talk to him about his language? He respects you and he's doing better in school now and has higher goals and dreams than he's ever had before you began to take an interest in him. The difference in what, the past year and a half or nearly, is amazing and it's just not his mother and I who have seen it, his teachers have also commented and his coach said he seems more driven to win now. He'll listen to you I'm sure.
"We hope to see you in Washington sometime soon. Why don't you stay with us the next time?
"Again thanks for taking him for a couple of weeks. I think he's much different when he's around you?
"Sincerely,
"Mel"
The part his Dad mentioned about Chris' language bothered me a bit. My first reaction was to used a little delayed reinforcement and whip the lad. Then another American young man who I like and consider part of my "family," a guy much closer to Chris' age, weighed in by e-mail from the US with a different opinion. You can read it yourself, compliments of "cut and paste" -- the grammar and spelling are his, as follows:
"Cal
"Hi There. Well so far you haven't won the bet but then again the day isn't over yet , as I write this it is only 4:45 PM.
"I have really enjoyed talking to Chris he seems to be a great guy. I really don't know if I should be telling you this , but he is waiting for something to happen in regards to his father's letter to you. In his words 'Cal might do something soom cause of my Dad's note , but I hope not'. Part of me says yes you should do something , it isn't right for a boy to cursing at his father no matter what is happening at the time. But then other part of me says no , shouldn't his father handle his crusing himself. I mean is it fair that you punish him for what he did with his father. I don't know , I know you don't allow foul language no matter what , but it was some time ago. I don't know Cal I mostly am thinking along Chris lines , protecting his butt. What can I say as boys gotta fight for each other.
"Again I know using foul language is using foul language no matter where or when , but maybe just a firm warning that ANY use of Any foul languag will get him a thorough spanking by you & his Dad. . . .."
His logic as a young American boy who himself is still spanked bare bottom up when he needs it, rang true. The issue was Chris' Dad's to handle and was past history. He said more, but basically his logic won the day and Chris was off the hook. Chris' language with me has never been an issue. I respect the young American's opinion.
The week progressed, Raul needed spanked one night as we all sat around watching HBO. He wanted to go out with his school friends, I'd said "no," but he kept asking. He got his question answered to be sure. I yanked his jeans and briefs down right then and there in front of them all and spanked his little bare bottom good and hard while the rest tried to watch TV. Raul always cries and struggles like crazy and that night was no exception. He was quickly bawling like a baby. When it was over, he snuggled up right beside me on the couch, my arm around him, with his little bare bottom nice and shiny red like neon and didn't move or say a word for the rest of the evening. Raul's at that age where sometimes he just gets carried away and the simplest way to stop it is to give up whatever else I'm doing and give him the fanny tanning he's asking for. Once it's nice and red, it's amazing how quickly he remembers, at least for the time being. At his age it never seems to last and after several more days I have to warm it up for him all over again. That's just the way it is. He's a good boy. The way to keep him that way is to spank his fanny. And I do.
A couple of days later, Chris' downfall began. First he and Mea got in a verbal disagreement at a party we all had gone to. That one ended real quickly when two very red-faced boys heard me tell them, in front of the woman I was talking to, that they'd both be getting spanked when we got home. The taxi home seemed extra long that night. Chris tried a bit of pleading. Mea knows better. Once in the door at our place, I told them both to strip completely and wait for me in my room. Believe me they did. Almost immediately there were two good looking teenage boys, standing there naked, folding their cloths to take into that room. Raul and Paolo watched and smirked openly. When I got around to it, I went in and spanked them both, one at a time, over my lap, then lined their red fannies over the edge of the bed, side by side, and finished the job and let them cry it off their chests. Both went directly to bed after we made up and regrets, etc. abounded. Hugging and calming two teenage boys is not as easy as it sounds.
Anyway, the issue behind the tiff was Mea's belief Chris is too controlling of my time and what we do when he's here. Stupid! Basically they had each just got on the other's nerves. It was amazing how quickly they both were able to settle the whole thing once both were spanked well, in tears and apologising and hugging each other. Looked a bit funny too given they were both still quite naked!
But that kind of rivalry never works when there are several guys that come in and out and are at times living together. From that point through Saturday, both were limited to jocks, T-shirts, sweat socks only inside the house. It was amazing how much solidarity they developed with the others teasing them and their being forced together like that. They both turned out fine and made up.
It should have got better for young Chris, but unfortunate circumstances intervened and it didn't. His good friend in America above (23 years old) had also been spanked by coincidence and the two of them got into a discussion that somehow turned into who's old man spanked "best!" Talk about a non-productive discussion.
Chris' friend wrote an angry e-mail, Chris and I talked, and my feeling was if he'd been saying things like those of which he was accused by his friend he did indeed need spanked! I e-mailed the American and gave him the chance to decide? Unfortunately in the meantime (given the time differences involved) Niwat had come by and the two had gone off to the library to finish Chris' report but had failed due to Chris' edginess, so Niwat reported. Chris was in an emotional tizzy by the time they walked in about 18:00 Friday. You can imagine the conversation Chris and I had and he was sent again into my room to strip completely, everything off, and wait for me there in the corner.
When I walked in about an hour or so later, Chris was obviously prepared to be spanked. He didn't need spanked, however. What he did need was a settling down! He needed to be calm and not let one factor effect his whole afternoon and those around him. He'd expected me to bring in his paddle, I'm sure. When he realised I hadn't, he smiled; but only momentarily. In my hand, extended between my fingers was that thin glass tubing he hates so much but which calms boys down so, so well. His rectal thermometer. I took him over the bed, holding him as he shook and as we started talking. He was holding me tightly, his naked body flat against mine, he was trembling slightly. He hadn't had it since at least before Christmas. As he held me and talked and promised for all his young body was worth, the middle finger of my right hand was freely applying a huge glob of the local equivalent of Vaseline. As that finger began it's invasion, he tensed, of course, then only held me tighter, talking almost in a whisper, talking personally, intimately, wiggling yet holding still, but it was inevitable that shortly thereafter I'd inserted it with it's typically noticeable effect on my boy. He'd felt it before and he knew I'd be holding it up there with my figures against that most personal part of a boy's anatomy and it would be up there a good long time as well. Time Out! Calm down! Slowly I gently parted his buns and I felt his whole body tensing. He knew the time was just about there. Maybe five minutes or so later, I began inserting it up inside a boy I really cared for. He remained in my arms. He needed it and as his head was tight again my chest, I slipped it up slowly, careful not to hurt him. "Ah. . ." he'd whispered.
"Stay nice and still, boy. I'm right here. Time you calm down all the way" I'd counselled. A good half hour of so later, still tightly in my arms, he had relaxed and ultimately he fell asleep in my arms like that, as my own figures still held it close and in.
Removing it softly and slowly, I too fell asleep. Just a nap. When we woke after about another hour or so, he radiated with a smile, stretching and yawning broadly, his arms up on the head board, "I'm gonna miss you when I got to go back to Washington."
I looked down at him. Most men or women would kill for him. I'd miss him too, but he couldn't stay. Graduation day is the end of June. Chris was back to himself and we all, Mea, Paolo, Rual, Chris and I went out on the town later.
But it's hard to be a teenager these days and sometime neither life nor your man is really "fair." At least that was Chris' view when he and his American friend next exchanged e-mail and both apologised profusely for a very simple misunderstanding.
Both wrote "I'm Sorry!" The care and concern evident between these particular two American boys on opposite sides of the world, both of whom live under men who, though caring, do not hesitate at any time to themselves unbuckle their belts and take down their jeans and briefs and then take them across their laps even today for just a plain good old fashion spanking on their bare bottoms, let me tell you, James, the care between these two boys was striking, impressive, and very moving. They had both mistakenly miss-read something in their exchanged e-mail that really wasn't there.
I didn't read their private correspondence and I won't, but the American boy e-mailed me (I know, I know, James, his spelling and grammar aren't what you'd expect, but he's American and Californian at that and anyway you'll understand what he means, again "cut and paste"):
"Boy did I screw up things for Chris , I really hope he isn't too mad at me for getting him in trouble. I never meant to I have ask him if there is anyway I can make it up to him to let me know , please Cal if you can help him on that one , I owe him & You. He didn't do anything wrong. And now I feel like garbage for getting my friend in trouble. Please I have told him I am sorry but if you could tell him again for me & give him a BIG HUG.
"I am very sorry Cal this should have never happened.
"I wish I could explain all my feelings right now . . ..
"BUT PLEASE CAL KNOW THAT I AM VERY VERY VERY VERY SORRY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Chris's friend hadn't at all caused Chris to get spanked. Chris and Mea got it for their argument Wednesday night. Chris' American friend hadn't cause Chris to get calmed down either. But Chris had learned a very important lesson about growing up: You don't let one thing ruin your whole day and allow yourself to get so emotionally distraught that it effects your work and others around you! You just don't!
Chris said he never would again. I believe him. The American boy learned some too, I'm sure, when he stops and thinks about it. Both learned they have a lot in common and as the days moved on, I watched an extremely deep friendship between them by e-mail. That's rare in these impersonal days. I learned, also. I learned how genuinely warmly two boys, who both know the feel of the paddle, can accept each other, support each other, and yes, truly care for and "love" each other (though they might be both to young to share that word openly). I'd been very impressed with both of them before, but especially this young American's faithfulness in communicating sometimes more than once daily with his much younger, new American friend, was moving. Every single time we got back from anywhere, Chris wanted to check if there was a message waiting from his new American friend.
Neither Mea nor Chris had by then yet re-earned their jeans or their briefs and were still forced to remember their tiff in jocks. Something to be said about two great looking guys around the house in pure white jocks with still remnants of rosy bare bottoms on display. Both were embarrassed, but it made them come together. Otherwise Saturday was a great day with a trip upcountry.
Chris left Monday. He's still got an outstanding issue with his own Dad waiting for him to deal with back in Washington and possibly with his Mom as well. I'm going to miss not having him around though. There's just something about this American boy who just comes out with the _d_a_m_n_edest things at the _d_a_m_n_edest times. Maybe you understand, James. He's, after all, closer to your age.
I had a telephone call the other night from your own old man, James. I understand this might not turn out to be the best weekend for you either. Do the proper thing and get on with it, my boy. I really think he'll change his mind. Good luck!
Cal