My mom married Glen when I was 13. My own dad had died when I was two, and I didn't really remember him. I had liked Glen a lot before he married my mom, but after they were married and we moved into his house things started to get ugly.
Glen was suddenly VERY strict. I had to be in bed by 10:00, I had to ask permission to be excused from the table, I had to say "Yes, sir" and "Yes, ma'am" to him and my mom. It was nothing like it was before the marriage. He said it was because he had to be a dad to me now and not just my mom's boyfriend.
We argued a lot the first month or so, and then one day Glen called a family meeting to lay down the law. We were in the livingroom, and he said to me, "Ryan, I called this meeting because it's time to settle in."
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"I mean" he said, "that I've laid down some rules for you and now I expect you to start following them. I've let you slide a lot the last month because I know it's a lot of change for you, but I'm going to come down on you from now on if you get out of hand. Is that clear?"
"Yes" I said spitefully.
"Yes what?" he asked, scowling.
"Yes, sir" I said, even more angry.
"Can I ask you something, Ryan?" he said.
"Yeah" I said, and when he scowled I quickly said, "I mean 'yes sir'" as sarcastically as I thought I could get away with.
"Why have things been so difficult since the wedding? I thought it would be really great afterward, but it's like you're always mad at me."
I had to swallow hard then. I had always been prone to crying easily, and the older I got the more I tried to control it especially now that it wasn't just me and my mom anymore.
I looked at the floor and said, "I thought you were my friend before."
"I was your friend before" he said. "And now I'm your dad. In fact, the adoption should be legal any day now."
"And that means you have to be a total jerk all of a sudden?" I asked, struggling to keep the tears out of my eyes and voice.
"Careful" he said, pointing his finger at me. I crossed my arms and angrily leaned against the wall. "Is it all the rules? Is that what's got you so upset?"
"Yeah – Yes, sir" I said.
He stood up and said, "Come here, Ryan" and I reluctantly walked over to him. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me on the forehead. He had never kissed me before, and it made me squirm, embarrassed.
"I'll always be your friend" he said. "You've never really had a dad, so it's going to take some getting used to. I know that. But you can't think of me the way you do your friends at school."
"I don't" I said.
"All right" he said. "You want to sit down so that we can finish this?"
"Yes, sir" I said, resigned, and slumped into the chair that was next to the couch where he and my mom sat. I was feeling very exposed and helpless just then, and I hated it.
"Here's the deal, kid" he said. "From now on I'm going to warn you the first time you break a rule. I might also ground you, depending on what you've done. That's the first time."
I pushed myself hard back into the chair and again crossed my arms angrily.
"If whatever happens a second time I'm going to spank you" he said. That did it! This was totally out of hand. I was nearly 14, and this guy that I had once thought was so great was now a total jerk taking over my life and threatening me with -- of all things -- a spanking.
"You can't do that" I said, angrily.
"Yes he can" said my mother quietly, and she looked down at the floor when I glared at her.
"Why do you look like that, son?" asked Glen.
"It's not fair!" I said, and then, spitefully, "Don't call me that."
He took my mother's hand, sighed heavily, and said, "It's fair, Ryan. As long as you mind the rules you don't have anything to worry about."
"Yeah" I said, again as sarcastically as I could, "and you've got a million stupid rules."
"All right, that's it" he said, standing up. I gulped suddenly as he towered over me. He wasn't really that much taller than me, but he was standing and I was sitting and I suddenly felt very small. "Do you want me to punish you right now young man?" he asked.
Again I swallowed my tears and said, "No. No, sir." I felt so betrayed; by both of them. Glen had really acted like a nice guy and my friend before he married my mom, and now I just saw him as a dictator monster, and my mother was letting him!
"I don't like your tone of voice, Ryan" he said. "You can be mad at me, but you'd better start to learn to say 'I'm mad at you, dad' or 'I'm mad at you, Glen' because I'm not going to put up with this for even one more day. Do we understand each other?"
I glared up at him and said, "Yes, sir" with as much spite as I could put in my voice.
He nodded angrily and said, "Maybe you should just stay in your room until dinner's ready."
I jumped out of my chair and as I got to the archway between the livingroom and diningroom I turned to face them and said, "I hate you, Glen" and stormed out of the room.
"Ryan!" my mother said, but I heard Glen say, "Just let him go" and I stomped down the hall to my room and slammed the door.
About an hour later my mother called me to dinner, and I ate with them in the kitchen in angry silence. As my mother cleared the dishes away Glen leaned forward on the table and said, "I need to warn you, Ryan."
I almost said "yeah" but then just closed my mouth and glared at him.
"If you ever shout at either one of us again, or petulantly stomp out of a room or slam your door like a little baby that's exactly how I'm going to treat you. I'm going to take your pants down, put you over my knee, and spank your butt until it's a bright glowing red. You got that?"
I couldn't keep the tears from spilling out of my eyes, but I still managed to glare back at him and whisper, "I hate you."
He reached across the table and I flinched, but he just ruffled my hair and said, "Well, I sure don't hate you. And if you you're going to keep saying that to me you'd better tack a 'sir' onto the end of it of you're going to get your mouth slapped."
"_f_u_c_k_ you!" I said, and instantly regretted it the moment the words were out of my mouth. In the next instant I felt Glen's hand smack across my cheek, and I pushed the chair backward holding my hand up to my face.
"Stop it!" my mother yelled at both of us.
I jumped out of my chair and said, "That was some warning, huh Glen? You're really a man of your word."
He got up and came at me, and as he reached for the front of my shirt our hands tangled and he finally managed to slap my hands down and grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me close to him, almost nose to nose. His face was very red, and I was scared.
"Cussing will always get your face smacked, and you better believe that wasn't nearly as hard as it could have been."
"Put me down" I said, hating myself as I started to cry.
"Come here" he said, dragging me by the front of my shirt out to the diningroom. He took one of the diningroom chairs, turned it to face the wall that was opposite the livingroom and pushed me into it hard. "You just sit there until I tell you you can get up. If you get up without my permission you're going over my knee." He tapped my collar bone hard and said, "You've been warned" and then he walked back into the kitchen without giving me a second look.
I could hear him and my mom arguing quietly through the door, and I was sure she'd be out any second to tell me I could get up. That didn't happen. I sat there and sat there and sat there until they both finally walked out of the kitchen. They just walked right past me without saying anything.
"Can I get up now?" I said, exasperated.
"No" said Glen. "You're being punished. You just sit there quietly until I tell you differently."
"MOM?" I said as they walked into the livingroom.
Glen came back to me and put his finger on my chin, forcing me to look face forward. "When your mother tells you to do something, you don't come to me to try to get out of it. And when I tell you to do something you don't go to your mother to try to get out of it, is that clear? You keep your eyes right here" he said, tapping the wall in front of me.
I couldn't take it anymore, and I jumped out of my chair and screamed at him, "You're not my dad! I hate you!" and I ran out to the livingroom, past my mom, and slammed the front door behind me. It was a stupid thing to do. I knew I had to go back eventually, but I just walked and walked until I was tired.
It was probably a couple of hours (about 10:30) before I got home. Glen was waiting for me in the livingroom. I had hoped he had cooled off some. I had.
His arms were crossed, and he glared at me and looked at his watch when I walked in the front door. I started to speak but he interrupted me and said, "Don't say anything. You've been gone so long that you've scared your mother to death. She's crying in our bedroom right now."
That made me feel awful. My mother rarely cried. I gulped and said, "I'm sorry" and really had to struggle to keep my voice calm.
"Don't tell me that" said Glen, angrily. "You go upstairs and say good night and apologize; let her know you're all right."
"Yes, sir" I said, walking past him in a wide arc.
"Ryan" he said. I turned around to face him. "After you talk to your mother you put your shoes and pants in your bedroom and you come back down here."
"No!" I said, and I couldn't stop a tear from rolling down one cheek.
He came toward me and I backed away. He stopped and said, "You got up before you were given permission, you stomped out of here like a little brat, you slammed the front door, and you're past your curfew. You should be in bed right now, not apologizing to your mother and getting spanked by me. Now move!"
I ran upstairs and pleaded with my mom not to let Glen spank me, but she wouldn't budge. I wanted to shout at her that I hated her, too, but I was afraid my punishment would be worse. I angrily stomped down the hall to my room, kicked my shoes off so hard that one of them banged on the far wall, and pushed my pants down and off.
I stomped back to the top of the stairs and hesitated. I had never been spanked before. What was it like? I wondered. How bad did it really hurt? I was painfully conscious of the fact that I wasn't wearing pants. I was wearing a button down shirt, a t-shirt under that, jockeys, and my socks. I didn't want Glen to see me in my underwear, much less spank me.
Slowly, I forced myself to walk down to the livingroom. I stopped in the doorway, and Glen turned to face me.
"I'm sorry" I said, and again hated myself for starting to cry.
"Come over here" he said calmly.
"Glen" I started to plead, "I really am sorry, okay? You don't have to do this." He ignored me and pulled a chair out into the middle of the room.
"Sir?" I said. "Glen? You don't have -- "
Suddenly he had hold of my upper arm and was pulling me over to stand in front of him as he sat in the chair. He put his hands on my waist, and I felt even more self conscious because I wasn't wearing pants.
He kissed my forehead and said, "Yes I do have to do this" and without warning he was tilting me over his knee. Then, to my shock, he reached up and grabbed the back of my jockeys and started pulling them down.
"Don't!" I yelled, and reached back to grab them. He pinned my arm behind me and yanked my underwear all the way down to my ankles and without any warning started smacking my butt hard with his bare hand.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!!! OW!!! OW!!!" I started to bawl my head off as the heat and sting built. I couldn't believe how much it hurt. I wasn't even aware that he had stopped as I lay over his lap sobbing.
He pulled me to my feet and I quickly yanked up my underwear, embarrassed and ashamed.
"You can let me hug you or you can go to your room" he said, and I yanked myself away from him and bolted up the stairs. When I got to my room I carefully shut the door and dove into my bed, sobbing my heart out. I hated him so much! It was all so unfair.
A little while later he knocked softly on my door and then opened it. "Good night, Ryan" he said quietly. I was staring at the ceiling with my hands behind my head, and I didn't say anything. He waited another few moments, and then closed my door. As soon as I heard it click into place I spun over and buried my head in my pillow, sobbing again.
I felt trapped, and since my mother wasn't going to help me I felt helpless as well.
I didn't sleep at all well that night, and when I went down to breakfast the next morning I let my mother kiss me but I wouldn't even look at Glen. I picked at my food for a while and finally said, "May I be excused?" and angrily got up when my mother said, "Yes."
"We're going for a walk in a little bit" said Glen. "Would you like to come?" He sounded so amiable as he said it. Down right chummy.
"No, I don't want to come" I said angrily, and walked out the back door. I went out to the garage and as I was looking for my basketball I saw Glen's golf clubs leaning up against the far wall.
I don't know what possessed me. I really don't. But one moment I was looking at the golf clubs, and the next thing I knew I was smashing one of them into the headlights of Glen's car.
They heard the noise, of course, and as I heard my mother scream, "What are you doing?!?" I looked up, bewildered, at the golf club in my upraised hand.
"Give me that" said Glen, yanking the club out of my hand. He calmly walked over to his golf bag, put the club back, and then made a bee line for me.
"Wait" I stammered. "Wait. I -- I didn't -- you -- " but the next instant Glen had me by the upper arm and was leading me back to the house. He half shoved, half dragged me all the way into the house, up the stairs, and into my room. Without saying a word he reached around and yanked open the buttons on my jeans and pushed them to the floor. Dragging me forward I stumbled out of them as he reached down with his free hand and undid his belt.
"Glen, wait!" I said, panicked. "Wait! Let me explain!!!" I yelled as he sat on my bed and pulled me over his lap. Again he pinned my arm as I tried to stop him from pulling down my underwear, but this time he slipped them past my feet and all the way off.
The next moment I felt fire lance across my bare butt, then my thighs, again and again all over my butt and back of my legs. The loud CRACK! of the belt echoed off the walls of my room, and I wondered faintly why the sound wasn't in sync with the lines of fire that kept cris crossing my backside.
In just a few seconds I was screaming for Glen to stop, then pleading, then begging. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The blows rained down without any pause in between.
I realized with relief that he had stopped, and I just laid there over his lap with my head on my bed sobbing loudly. He kept rubbing the back of my head and massaging my back, but I resented him for it. I eventually stopped crying, but just laid there quietly, too ashamed to get up and look at him.
I felt him pat my back and he said, "Stand up, son."
I stood and pulled my shirt down over my front, looking at the floor.
"You stay in your room for the rest of the day" he said. "You're grounded."
As soon as the door was closed I pulled on my underwear and flopped down on my bed and cried my heart out. In the whole day that I was forced to stay in my room I resolved not to get in his way again, and that I would hate him secretly until I was 18 and able to move out on my own.
He brought me lunch, which I didn't eat, and later I got to come down to dinner. We all ate in silence, and I couldn't get my mother to look at me. I ate everything, because I was hungry from not having lunch. When I was finished wolfing down my food I said, "May I be excused?" but Glen said, "Your mother wants to talk to you. Why don't you two clear out while I clean the kitchen?"
I followed my mom out to the backyard. Before I could say anything she said, "What on earth were you thinking, Ryan?"
"I'm sorry" I said, looking down ashamed.
"You've never done anything like this. What's gotten into you?" she said.
My head snapped up and I glared at her. "Well I've never been spanked before either, have I?" and I couldn't keep my voice from breaking as I finished.
"Ryan!" said my mom. "I'D have spanked you if you had ever pulled a stunt like that."
"What about the first time?" I said, and now tears ran down my face.
"The first time you knew you had coming" she said, and reached up and stroked my hair.
I pulled away from her and pointed angrily at the ground. "He hit me with a belt!" I said in a strangled voice. My mother hugged me then, and I felt like it had been so long since she had done that and I cried hard for just a few seconds. Then I was in control of myself again.
Glen startled us then by saying, "So, are we okay?" We hadn't heard him come outside.
I pulled away from my mother and angrily wiped at my face.
"I don't want you to spank Ryan with a belt anymore" my mother said, and I suddenly wondered if things were going to start to go my way again.
"All right" said Glen. "But that means longer hand spanks and corner time."
"Just no more belt" said my mother. She kissed him and walked into the house without saying anything to either of us. Glen reached out to touch me, but I shrunk away from him and skulked into the house.
For the next several months we lived together with me fanning a quiet animosity for Glen. I did everything he said and made sure to say sir and ma'am to him and my mom. I have to admit that Glen was fair and even tempered, but I still resented him and the way he had taken over my life.
I turned 14 and started high school, and one morning I woke up with a weird bulge below my belly button. There was a dull ache, and I immediately panicked. I was yelling, "Mom!" and she and Glen came into my bedroom at the same time.
Glen often walked around in his underwear and never closed the door to the bathroom all the way, even when he was on the toilet. I had always been very modest, but living with him was starting to wear down some of that. I didn't mind that I was only wearing a t-shirt and jockeys in front of both of them. I pulled up my t-shirt and showed them.
"Stand up" said Glen.
I did as he said, and as he reached out a tentative finger I said, "Don't!"
"I think you've got a hernia, son" he said.
To make a long story short, he was right. I was pretty active; not a great athlete, but I liked to have fun. I had surgery a couple of days later. The doctor said I'd be pretty much helpless for a few days afterward, but I wasn't prepared for what was to come.
I couldn't stand, sit up, roll over -- I couldn't do anything without some help. Even raising my head off the pillow was painful. Apparently, you use your abdominal muscles WAY more than you realize in every day life.
The afternoon I came home I had the need to go to the bathroom. I was dreading it because at the hospital a male nurse had had to help me on the toilet. Now I had to decide between Glen or my mom. I didn't want either of them to see me like that, and when I couldn't hold it anymore I picked up the bell my mom had left for me and shook it furiously.
They both came into my room, and I told them I needed to use the bathroom. My mom patted my chest and said, "I guess you want Glen to help you with that."
"I guess" I said.
It was mortifying to have him half carry me to the bathroom, and worse when he pulled my underwear down and helped me sit on the toilet. I made him leave, and when I was finished I realized I couldn't lift myself to wipe. No way was I going to ask Glen to do it for me. Or my mom, for that matter.
He was standing outside waiting for me to call him back in, and again I had to withstand the humiliation as he pulled up my underwear and helped me back to bed. In less than an hour the itching in my butt was driving me crazy. I rang my bell again, and I had to look away from them both when I told them I hadn't been able to wipe.
They both chuckled and Glen said, "You should have said something, son. Do you want me or your mom to do it?"
I looked back at them and let them see the tears run down my face. "Neither of you" I said.
Glen rubbed his hand in my hair and said to my mom, "Why don't you leave us alone for a bit?" Turning back to me he shrugged and said, "At least I'm a boy."
My mother left and Glen got a roll of toilet paper and the waste paper basket from the bathroom.
"Ready?" he said, and smiled.
I resigned myself to the humiliation and said, "It itches like crazy" and he laughed.
What happened next was not so funny. He pulled my jockeys down and off, and I clapped my hands down over my privates, and then he slowly lifted my legs up to my chest. He had to help me hold them there with one hand, and I had to close my eyes and turn my head as he wiped me with the other. I thought I'd be okay if I gave in, but I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my face.
He started to pull my underwear onto my feet, but I said, "Just leave them, okay? Can I be alone now?"
He gently grabbed my ear and said, "Ryan -- " but I got mad and yelled, "Just leave, okay? Please?"
He sighed and left my room, taking the waste paper basket and toilet paper with him. I had to endure three days of him helping me on the toilet, and each day was no better than the last. You might think my modesty would wear off after a while, but it didn't.
On that third day instead of helping me up Glen began pulling my t-shirt up over my head, and I said, "What are you doing?"
"You need a bath" he said.
"No" I said.
"Listen buddy" he said, "you stink."
"You're not giving me a bath!" I said.
"I'm going to help you stand in the shower" he said. "You can bathe yourself."
He reached down and slipped my underwear off my feet, leaving me on the toilet completely naked. I had my hands down in front of my privates, and I leaned forward and looked up at him miserably.
"Please give me my clothes" I said.
He handed me a towel which I laid across my lap and then sat up straight. "Ryan" he said, "I've been wiping your ass for three days now. We're both guys, and I'm your father. It's okay for us to see each other naked."
I wiped angrily at my nose and said, "I just don't want to."
"I know you don't, son" he said, "but you really stink. You're whole room stinks, in fact. Your mom's going to change your sheets and air out the place while we're in here." He reached out his hand and said, "Come on."
I was so tired of him humiliating me. I was so tired of him controlling my life, and I knew that no matter what I said I was going to have to do this. That's what was making me mad: that I didn't have a choice.
Glen helped me stand up, and he pulled the towel around my waist and made sure it wouldn't fall off, which made me feel better. He pulled me over to the counter and he sat on it so that we were almost eye to eye. Putting his hands up on my ribs he said, "Can I tell you some things?" and he squeezed my ribs once and then relaxed his hands and kept them on my sides.
"I guess" I said, not sure where this was going.
"Ryan" he said, "I love you very much. You don't have to love me back, but I want you to know how I feel about you." I pulled away from him then and leaned on the wall next to the shower with my arms crossed. Where was this coming from all of a sudden?
"I think I made a mistake" he continued. "When you smashed my car in and I spanked you it was because I love you, son." Yeah, right! I thought.
"I just -- I didn't realize that you didn't feel the same way then. I thought we were closer than we were, and that was my mistake. I don't know what else I could have done differently, because you definitely needed to be punished, but I realize now that -- I realize that -- for you it wasn't 'your dad' spanking you. That that's not how you thought of me then."
I couldn't stop the tears from coming then, and I said angrily, "I still don't think of you like that" and I was mad and scared at the same time as I said it.
"Well I wish you would" he said. "I really do. I'm not going anywhere, Ryan. Neither of us is going anywhere and it's not like you ever had a dad before me." I could see he was really struggling with something -- I wasn't sure what -- and he looked at the floor and then up at me again and said, "Would you come over here?"
I slouched, exasperated, and he said, "Please?"
"What?" I said, as I stepped over to him. He reached up, and then pulled his hand back and kept it at his side.
"I just want to be your dad, Ryan, okay? Can you just let me be your dad, please? Can you just let me love you and take care of you? Please? I just -- I just want to do right by you, and I'm very sorry if I started out the wrong way."
I don't know why I was so emotional, but my chest heaved and I was struggling not to bawl openly.
"I'm sorry" he said again. "I promise I'll do better in the future. I think I have done a lot better since that day, don't you?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He continued, "I wish you'd just put your hands up on my shoulders, son, because I love you so much and I can see that you're upset and I just want to try to make it better. Do you think we could try that? Do you think maybe I could just hug you for a little bit?"
I wanted to do what he said just then, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't move, I felt so raw and exposed and I started to shake a little bit as my emotions warred within me. I wanted to push him away, I wanted him to hug me, I wanted to hit him, I wanted rest my head on his chest and just be held kindly the way my mother used to when I was little. I was feeling everything all at the same time, and none of it made any sense.
Glen reached out and took my right hand and said, "Maybe I can help you" and he put my hand on his shoulder. "You just stop me if you really want to" he said, and he took my other hand and put it on his other shoulder. When my other hand came to rest on his shoulder I couldn't hold it in anymore and I gave in and leaned forward a little bit and cried hard.
To my surprise he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly to him. That made me bawl harder, and I felt him kiss the side of my head. "I'm sorry" he said again. "I'll be a good dad if you'll just let me, Ryan. I promise. I love your mom and I love you, and I want you to know that I have loved you since before we got married. It's one of the reasons I asked your mom to marry me, because I loved you both so much. Did you know that? I really thought I was doing the right thing that day you took a club to my car. I really did, and if that's what's been between us all this time I'm sorry for it."
"You hit me with a belt" I managed to squeak out, and I hit his shoulder weakly with my fist.
"I know" he whispered. "I know. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again I'll probably strap you again" he said, and hugged me even tighter. "That's just part of being a dad, kid."
I don't know what made me do it, but I reached up and put my arms around his neck, and buried my head in his chest and cried. I had been so jealous of Peter Phelps, my best friend, when he told me about the father/son dinner he and his dad had been to for school. I hadn't even told Glen about it because I didn't want to go with him. I had felt so alone and unwanted that night that Peter and his dad were out together, and the whole time I had had someone in the same house who wanted nothing more than to go with me and be my dad. I felt so foolish.
Eventually I relaxed my arms around his neck he patted my back and put his hands on my waist. He reached over and got a tissue from the counter and held it up to my nose. I reached up to hold it, but he said, "Just let me, okay?" and he held the tissue as I blew my nose. We did that a second time, and then he rested his hands on my hips.
"Can I give you a bath?" he said.
"No" I laughed, embarrassed.
"Oh, come on" he said. "I can wipe your butt but I can't give you a bath?" and he laughed.
"I'm too old" I said, blushing deeply.
"Well" he said, "not a complete bath. Come on" and he loosened the towel at my waist and I didn't stop him and it fell to the floor. I breathed in a long, jagged breath as he patted my side and then led me over to the shower.
It felt weird to stand there completely naked in front of him. I had seen him get in and out of the shower lots of times, but I had always waited for him to be done in the bathroom in the mornings before I got in myself, and then I always shut the door all the way and he always knocked and waited for me to say he could come in before entering.
I gingerly stepped into the tub, and he took the flexible showerhead off it's handle and started the water. We couldn't get my stitches wet in front, and he started spraying me down. He gave me a washcloth to hold over my stitches and he held the showerhead while I bathed myself.
He helped me rinse, and then he took the soap out of my hand and started to wash my back. His hands were gentle, and I hadn't been bathed like that since I was a little kid. "Hey!" I said, and laughed as his hand quickly went up and down my butt crack. Then he was on to my legs, and then I felt the water rinsing me off. He had to get in with me for a second to help me to sit, and then I let him wash my hair and hold me up while he rinsed the lather out.
My stitches started to ache then, and Glen helped me to stand and rinsed my back again (there were shampoo bubbles on my butt and legs) and then I got out and he helped me to dry off, too.
I accidently banged my foot into the cabinet and said, "oh, _f_u_c_k_!" before I knew the words were out of me.
Glen scowled at me, and I quickly said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry" but he gently grabbed my arm and pulled me over to him. The next thing I knew my hands were on the counter and his right hand was resting on my butt cheeks.
"Dad -- I mean, Glen. Don't. Please" I said, not realizing everything that I had said.
He patted my butt gently and said, "What was that?"
"Please don't" I repeated.
"Please don't, what?" he said, and he smiled broadly at me.
I blushed as I realized what I had said, and I looked at the floor embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Glen -- I was -- sorry" I stammered.
He pulled me to him then, grabbed a clean pair of my underwear off the counter, and helped me put them on.
"I was just teasing about spanking you just then, son" he said. "I know it's been a long day for you." He kissed my forehead and again rested his hands on my hips. "Maybe you could say that again" he said.
"Dad?" I said, blushing furiously and looking at the floor.
"Is that so bad?" he said.
"No, sir" I said. "Is that okay?"
He pulled me to him and hugged me tightly. It was a long time before he sighed heavily and said, "Yeah, that's okay. That's great."
Over the next several years I did lots of stupid things and I got my butt tanned for it a few times. I've called Glen 'dad' ever since that day, and I think he's just about the best dad in the whole world.