From:ionus@aol.com (Ionus)
Newsgroups: alt._s_e_x_.spanking
Subject: Mike gets paddled [m/m story]. (Repost)
Date: 10 Jun 1995 23:37:22 -0400
Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364)
Reply-To: ionus@aol.com (Ionus)
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He looked at me sort of defiantly and said, "Look, Allen, I don't tell you how to live your life, so don't tell me how to live mine, OK?" I just shook my head slightly and went inside. He stomped off. I could see already that Mike's problem was that he was an undisciplined brat.

"What that boy needs is a man's firm hand on his butt," I thought to myself. "Bet he never had a real hard spanking in his whole life."

I always believed that people make their choices, and live their lives, and you have to respect that, but I was brought up to respect certain eternal verities, and received a good many bare-assed spankings and whippings from my Dad when I failed to respect them. Things like lying, cheating, stealing, not living up to your commitments, not giving consideration to other people. He never spanked me for bad grades, or poor performance only for "character flaws." He believed that the pain of a good spanking, or later, as I got older, a hard, long session with the strap, or a sound paddling with a wooden paddle had a singular effect on making a boy "remember what's expected of him in this life."

The last time, in fact, I felt the sting of Dad's razor strop, full length and wielded open armed, fifty licks on my bare butt while I was lying on a bed, it was for not visiting my elderly aunt on Mothers' Day one time when I said I would (my own mother had died some years before). I was eighteen years old at the time, but still living at home, and still subject to my father's rules and disciplinary practices. (My older brother, in fact, got spanked into his twenties, since he stayed at home while attending junior college).

I still remember Dad saying, "Allen, you've got to learn now, while you still have a father who cares enough to correct you, that you have to do what you say you will do, even when it's not fun. A man lives by his word, and there's just no excuse for not doing what you've committed yourself to. Maybe a little taste of my strap across your bare butt will help you remember." At that, he led me into the bedroom, strap in hand, and made me strip naked and lie on the bed for that sound strapping. I tried hard to be stoic, but he whipped me hard, no holding back, for what seemed like the longest time, and I was sobbing and squirming all over before it was over. I believe I did learn the lesson he was trying to instill in me, though. I was resentful to him for humiliating me and for the pain of the beating, but I was more careful to live up to my word after that. And I made it up to my aunt by taking her shopping the next weekend, without any prompting from my father. He later told me he was proud of me for that, and I fairly glowed in the warmth of my father's pride. Not as brightly, perhaps, as my poor butt glowed right after he had strapped me, but it somehow seemed worth it.

That was the background for my thinking about young Mike. Hell, I wasn't his Dad; he didn't owe me anything but the rent, and he obviously didn't particularly welcome my "fatherly" advice. Oh, well, I thought, just see what happens. At the end of that very month, Mike didn't turn up with the rent when it was due. "Hmmm," I thought, "spent all his money, I bet." It occurred to me that this could lead to some interesting developments. I went to his apartment about two or three days later. Knocked on the door. "Mike, just to remind you, the rent's due," I said, when he answered the door. "Uh, sure, Mr. Williams (not Allen?)... I'm a little short.... could you let me slide till payday; next Friday?"

I looked at him with my best stern father look. Long pause, then: "OK, Mike, this one time. But don't make a habit of this. You have a job, you need to budget the money for the rent. Can't help but notice you have enough money for beer and going out all the time."

"Uh... sure.... won't happen again. Thanks."

Friday came and he did pay me, and I let it go at that. But the next end of the month, again, no payment. Again, a few days later, same song and dance. I thought for a few minutes. Time not quite right to push this, I thought. "Look, Mike. I told you last time I would cut you some slack once. Now you're asking me to do it again, even though I warned you not to expect the same thing a second time. What do you have to say for yourself?" I tried very hard to look like my Dad when he was lecturing me before the inevitable trip to the bedroom for a good spanking. Here was this gorgeous blond boy, fairly dripping with _s_e_x_ual energy, in cutoff jeans and a tank top undershirt, his beautiful nipples plainly visible through the thin fabric. And he actually hung his head slightly, like a bad boy being upbraided. Which he was. But I had to prepare this right. "OK, boy. I will let you ride one last time. Have the rent for me Friday, and on time from now on, and we'll say no more about it."

He did pay on time at the end of that month, but the following month, again, no Mike on rent day, or for two or three days after. I went to his door, ready to be firm. He looked sheepish at once, and invited me in. The other encounters had been at the door. "It's like this, Mr. Williams.... I know you've been patient with me, but I've just gotten behind. Maybe there's some way we can work this out? Maybe I could work off part of the rent this month?" We sat down at his tiny kitchen table. The apartment was messy. No discipline, I thought. Have to fix that. I looked at him, and waited a moment before saying anything. "Look, Mike. I like you. You're a nice kid, and I'm sure you think you are doing your best to live up to your obligations. But it just isn't good enough. You know how much you make, and you just haven't been willing to keep the money in reserve to pay the landlord. Instead, you go out almost every night, you buy beer and who knows what else; you go to movies all the time.... in short, you have a great old time with my money. Cause that's what it is you know... money I should be getting. I don't charge you that much for the apartment... maybe you don't know it, but I gave you a break on the rent in the first place, since you're just starting out. Now you tell me you can't pay, but the only reason you can't pay is because you haven't exercised any self-discipline. Look, I am sorry, but I can't just let you slide all the time. There isn't much work to do, and I frankly don't need you to do it, so that isn't a solution. Hmmm."

I stopped my lecture and just looked right at him. Waiting for him to say something. Finally, "well, what are you going to do, just kick me out?" "If I have to, yes, I will. But I will work with you, if you will submit to it. I like you. I want you to succeed. I want you to develop the self-discipline to take care of yourself. You know what my Dad (I said it with a little emphasis just to make the subtle suggestion that I could be like his dad) would have done in this situation?"

"Huh? What?"

"He would have given me a good whipping, that's what."

Mike suddenly became wide-eyed. "A whipping? Is that what you want? You want to beat me!?"

"Calm down. As a matter of fact, yes. I think what would really do you some good is a _d_a_m_n_ good spanking. It would make you realize you can't always go around making commitments you're not prepared to keep. You're a young kid, a man physically, but you obviously didn't get some of the seat of the pants lessons you needed growing up."

"Allen, you have got to be out of your mind. You think just because I owe you the rent you can whip my butt? You may be bigger than me, but I don't have to take that from anybody...."

"Like I said, Mike, calm down. This is a negotiation. You have options. I am telling you, if you will calm down and carefully listen to what I am saying, that if you will submit to my discipline, I will let you off the hook for the rent, in order to give you the opportunity to learn the lesson and grow from it. Essentially, you're asking me, by asking me to essentially forgive the rent, to treat you like family. I'm saying, OK, you're a nice kid, I like you, I'm willing to treat you like my son. And if my son doesn't pay the rent when the only reason he can't is because he has _f_u_c_k_ed up and spent all the money on himself, it's time for the paddle. A good, hard, spanking, with a paddle, on your bare butt, would definitely serve as a reminder to you."

He looked almost shocked, but said nothing. I looked straight at him.

"That's one choice. The other is to look for another place; if you can't pay rent you can't live here."

"Let me get this straight. Are you saying if I let you spank me, I don't have to pay the rent this month?"

I looked at him with the sternest, most disapproving look I could muster, which wasn't easy, since I was really enjoying this.

"Look, Mike, that's right, but I think you still don't understand at all. As a matter of fact, I am giving you a break. You can skip the rent, since you can't pay it anyway, and I don't want to put you in any worse financial position than you already are. But only if you face up to what you're doing here, accept my authority, and submit to your punishment. It's entirely up to you."

"_s_h_i_t_. I haven't been spanked since I was ten. Spanked! What a trip. Pants down. With a paddle?"

"That's it. And don't think I'm playing with you. It will be a real, hard, long, big-boy spanking. You'll be very sore, and very sorry, afterwards."

"It's so weird. I can't believe this is happening. It's kind of hot, actually-- you're going to spank me cause I _f_u_c_k_ed up. Pull my pants down and spank me on the bare ass. What a trip. OK, you win, my friend. I'll do it. When do I get my spanking?" It was Sunday morning.

"No time like the present. I will give you ten minutes. Come to my door, wearing just what you have on now. And plan on not sitting down for a long while afterwards." "And I won't have to pay the rent at all this month."

"That's right, but I'm warning you. Learn from this spanking, and remember to keep the rent money aside. Cause I will not let you off so easy next time, if there is a next time." I glared at him.

He almost made some flip remark, I could tell, but he didn't. Just looked down at the table.. I got up and started for the door. "Ten minutes."

Twelve minutes later there was a soft knock at my door. There he was, looking up at me with a strange, expectant look. I grabbed his arm and pulled him in the door, spun him around and gave him two quick but hard underarm smacks on the seat of his cut-offs. "Ow!" he said, almost in a conversational tone, looking at me with a bit of a question in his eyes. But he wasn't struggling... I guess he decided to just let me do my thing, figuring he'd live through it and it would be worth it. Well, we would see if he thought it was worth it after it was over!

"That's for being late. Remember, this is about keeping commitments."

"Yes, sir."

"That's better. Now, go into the bedroom and strip completely naked for your spanking. Now."

I watched him from the door as he slowly took off his shirt, then his shoes and socks, and finally the cutoffs and white briefs. To my surprise and delight, he was quite well hung, and had the least little hint of an erection. He stood before me, naked, his hands folded in front of his _d_i_c_k_, now a little stiffer. It could only be anticipation. I walked over to him, and put my foot on a low stool I had positioned by the side of the bed. I guided his torso over my leg, On an impulse, I reached down and cupped his balls with my left hand, with the heel of my palm against his now rock hard eight-inch _d_i_c_k_. I tugged on his ball sac, to pull it up out of the way. "Don't want to smack these, do we?"

I raised my right arm and brought it down against one cheek of his ass, with a resounding SMACK! Redness immediately flowered on his butt from the sharp smack of my hand. He lurched slightly, but said nothing. Tough guy. Well, we'd see. I let go of his balls and shifted my left arm to hold his body. SMACK! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! Ten or twelve hard smacks, spaced a few seconds apart, and he began grunting after each one. His butt already began to glow with the satisfying redness of a spanked ass. "OK, Mike, stand up. Let's get you good and warmed up."

He stood up, and his _d_i_c_k_ was still rock hard. He was enjoying this! I could hardly believe my luck.

I sat on the bed, and motioned him to assume the over the knee position. I was wearing blue jeans, but the feel of that big _d_i_c_k_ against my lap gave me the hardest erection I'd had in a while. But this wasn't play, I told myself. Might be fun, but it was punishment, and Mike was going to really get it today, like he had never gotten it before in his life.

I began spanking him with a steady rhythm, not fast, but not so slow that he had time to completely recover from each smack either. It was hard. The kind of full arm, strong spanking smacks that would have a ten year old blubbering and squirming all over after ten smacks. Mike squirmed a little, and grunted and whimpered a little, but he took it.... twenty, then forty, then at least a hundred.... till his butt was cherry red all over and he was going "OOOONH! Oh god! OWWWW! Oh please!"

But this was just the warm up. I hadn't even gotten out the paddle yet.

"Shut up, boy. Your spanking has only begun. Now stand up." He stood up. His hard on had gone away, but when I lightly touched his butt with my right hand, then put my arm sideways around his shoulder, it popped back up a little. He had to have noticed the outline of my straight up, hard, thick _d_i_c_k_, plainly visible through my pants. "Good boy, I said. You take your spanking, and you'll be glad of it, you'll see." He looked at me with a sort of worried look, but he nodded ever so slightly.

"Now for the serious part. Time for the paddle, my boy."

I opened the bureau drawer where I had put the laminated wooden paddle my father used to spank me with. I just looked at it for a moment, remembering the many times I had been over my dad's knee, or bent over a chair, for fifty or a hundred or more hard smacks with this baby, invariably reduced to blubbering tears and begging for mercy afterwards. I picked up the paddle and turned to my naked miscreant. He looked at the paddle and got a look of fear in his features. I guess he envisioned a little playball paddle, not a =-inch thick laminated hardwood mother.

"_s_h_i_t_. You gotta go easy with that, man.... you could really hurt somebody."

I smiled. "Yes, you're right. And I guarantee it will hurt, like nothing you've ever felt before. But it won't do you any damage. Be good for you. Builds character. You'll see... you don't have to believe me, but I guarantee you will agree with me once it's had a chance to have its proper effect."

I walked back over, and put my foot up on the little stool again. Then I patted my thigh. "Come on, Mike, over my leg. The sooner you get your butt over here the sooner it'll be over."

Momentary defiance. I think he was considering calling it off and arguing with me. But suddenly, looking at the resolve on my face, he gave in, and approached me and bent over my leg. WHACK! I gave him a moderate whack across both cheeks, and he lunged forward, almost making me lose my balance. I adjusted his body across my leg and WHACK! Hit him again. I found the same rhythm I had used for the over the knee spanking. WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK! WHACK!! This wasn't a school paddling; it was a spanking with a paddle. I pulled the paddle back about two feet for each whack, so as to keep up a steady rhythm. I worked him all over his butt, with a couple smacks on the upper thighs to keep him alert. Oooh, those hurt, as I well remembered from when I used to get it. Within twenty swats he was almost keening with pain.

OWWWWWNH! OWWWWNHHHHH! Oh _s_h_i_t_! OWWWWWW!"

He began rocking back and forth, so I could hardly control him, so I pulled him up and withdrew my leg, letting him flop onto the bed. WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK! WHACK!! He was almost screaming now, and kicking his legs. His butt was crimson and began to get a little stiff from histamine reaction. Good. Let him find out what a real paddling is all about. WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK! WHACK!!

His kicking got out of hand. "Quit kicking or I'll tie your legs."

"_s_h_i_t_! OWWWWW! [SMACK! WHACK! WHACK!!]. OWWWW!"

He was still kicking like a little boy getting his first bare butt whipping. So I stopped.

"Oh _s_h_i_t_, God, that hurt." He said, thinking it was over, I suppose. "Stay right there, boy. It's not over yet, not by quite a ways. I'm going to have to restrain your legs."

"Oh God, Allen, please! No more, please! I've really learned my lesson! You're really hurting me!"

"Good. That's the idea. Your butt is sore, but undamaged, don't worry. And I am not finished. Just shut up and take your punishment like a man, understand me?" He was still prone, lying over the edge of the bed. He looked up at me, with a look of what? Hatred? Respect? Some combination? I went to the drawer and took out an old belt with holes all the way down to the buckle, just the thing for tying up a man's legs. Came in handy for a variety of things now and then. I looped it around his ankles, and cinched it tight.

"There. That'll hold you."

I resumed the paddling, but it was a little less intense. I had spanked him pretty _d_a_m_n_ hard, and he was near the end of his limits, which in my book were governed by the fact that if I gave him too many whacks, his skin would break, and he'd have a pussy sore on his ass for a week. That was only appropriate for something really bad (I got spanked that hard when I got caught shoplifting once). So I let up a little, and gave him maybe thirty or forty whacks more, hard but not searing. Still, he squirmed and rocked, and cried out loudly. With one very very hard last whack!!! I quit, and just nonchalantly walked over to put away the paddle, while he moaned and collapsed into limpness.

"Oh god. Oh god. That hurt so bad. I can't believe you beat me so hard, man. You're a real son of a bitch, you know that?"

I walked over to him, lifted him up, put him over my knee again and spanked him with my hand, fifty smacks, good and hard, while he cried the whole time. That remark had really pissed me off, and I let him have it.

"Lesson One, boy. Don't get disrespectful after you get a spanking."

"OK, OK, I'm sorry! Jesus! Let me up, will you?"

"Yes, Mike, you've had enough. And you will learn from this, just wait and see. He looked at me, with a certain air of defiance and rebellion, which suddenly began to dissipate.

"OK, sir, guess we will see."

I walked over to him, still buck naked, his ass so red it was glowing. I lightly touched his butt. Here, son, let me put some lotion on it." I rubbed a little antiseptic creme on his ass, and he looked at me with what actually looked like fondness. Then I stroked all along the side of his chest, and hugged him sidelong. To my amazement, his _d_i_c_k_ stiffened again.

"That was just what you needed, Mike, and you know it."

"Yeah, I guess so, and you're just the man to give it to me." I led him by the had and we laid down on the bed. I kissed him, passionately, open mouth, and he responded. We made hot, passionate love that afternoon, and many others later. It was just amazing what a good spanking can awake in a man. But I really did spank him to punish him and make him think about responsibility. Which he did. He became very attentive to the rent after that. I found a few other excuses to spank him, sometimes just a short little session, sometimes more serious, but always real for a real reason. And I believe he really came to appreciate it.