When we got home from Mr. Smith's store, Dad sent us straight up to our bedroom. Billy and I lost no time in comparing butts, I can't really say what mine looked like but his was still a nice, bright red in color and even hot to the touch. I do know for a fact that mine was hot as well and not only that but sorer than any time before in my life. I still had one little problem to take care of, my willie was still wildly erect and I knew that if I didn't do something about it I would make a mess of my bed that night during my sleep.
I knew all about wet dreams, or as they call them a bit more officially, nocturnal emissions, and even knew why they occurred. The first time it happened I woke up with my pajamas just soaked as well as the bed and was scared to death that for some reason I was wetting the bed again but Dad set me straight about it and why it was happening. He is pretty cool about things like that and was not upset that my bed got wet, he knew it was just a sign I was growing up. This time the pressure was really intense and I told Billy I had to pee and went down the hall to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I did indeed pee but only after taking care of my problem and squirting lots of white goo into the toilet. Feeling a bit better I flushed and left the bathroom and went back to our room.
I saw Billy kneeling by the register in the floor and he shushed me as I came into the room. We live in an old farm house and in order to let heat get upstairs to the bedrooms there are holes cut into the floor and covered with steel grates and the living room is directly below our bedroom. I knelt down and could hear Mom and Dad talking.
"But did you have to let him spank them?" came my mother's voice up through the register.
"Yes, dear," said Dad, "I not only let Mr. Smith spank the boys but I fully intend to do so myself in the future, it is about time that they get some discipline into their lives. I was spanked as a boy and it never killed me and it sure won't kill them either. It is better for them to have a sore backside or two now and nip this kind of behavior in the bud before it escalates out of control."
There was a long silence and then Mom said, "Okay, then, if you feel that you must but don't do it when I'm around, I don't want to hear my boys crying."
"When I feel that the boys need some punishment I'll take them out to my workshop," said Dad, "it is far enough away from the house that you will never hear what goes on."
Dad has this wonderful workshop out behind the house, it used to be the tool shed for the farm but Dad converted it into a combination wood working shop and sort of fix it shop as well. We were never allowed into the place without his supervision for there were quite a few rather dangerous power tools in the shop. It was always fun and even a bit exciting to visit the work shop and watch Dad either making something or repairing the lawn mower, I had a feeling that now it might still be exciting but not so much fun.
We got called down for supper in about an hour or so and both of us opted for eating standing at the kitchen counter for some reason and later on when we went to bed I don't think I have to say we both slept on our tummies. I was quite surprized the next morning when I awoke and found not only was my bottom still there but it wasn't even hurting all that much, sure, there was a little soreness left but nothing like it had felt when I was over Mr. Smith's knees and he was whipping it with his belt. It is funny about how a person's mind works, you just can't possibly recreate pain and although I could remember that the spanking had hurt like anything I couldn't actually remember how much it hurt, I just didn't want to feel his belt again, I knew that for sure.
Billy's bum didn't look at that bad either for he asked me to look at it. It was still a little pinker than it normally was but outside of a small dark red spot way down low on his behind you'd never know he had even been spanked. I went to the bathroom and stood on the toilet and dropped my pants and could see that my bottom looked much the same as Billy's. If you stand on the toilet lid you can just see yourself in the mirror over the sink that Dad uses to shave.
We had to stay around the house for the week although we didn't lose television or Nintendo privileges, Dad had told us that our punishment would come the next Saturday which was a long time away but not long enough for my taste. He had gone to his workshop for a couple of hours after supper one night and came into the house smelling of sawdust and wood shavings. He wouldn't say what he had been working on but I had a horrible feeling I knew just what he had been making.
Saturday came as it always seems to, at least once a week, and about half way through the afternoon Dad called Billy and me to him.
"Boys," he said, "come with me. It is time for a long overdue father/son talk." It was two very, very subdued boys that followed him across the yard to the workshop and waited while he unlocked the door. He ushered us into the shop and followed, closing and locking the door behind him.
The wonderful smell of the shop hit me right in the face as it always does, the smell of worked wood, sawdust and the various stains and finishes that Dad uses on his projects. He had actually made all the furniture in the house over the years and was quite picky and professional in his work, heck, in all that he does.
He turned to the two of us and said, "Boy's, we are about to start a ritual that has been going on between father and son for as long as there have been fathers and sons. You are about to get the very first spanking that I have ever given to you. It will not be the last one, however, I have a feeling we will be meeting here quite often in the future as needed. I almost regret that we have not participated in this ritual before but it is never too late to start." He then told us to take all of our clothing off .
As I slowly took all my clothing off I thought that it had been a long time since Dad had seen me naked. I am kind of used to having other guys see me with no clothes on by now for we have to get changed for gym in school and then take a shower afterwards but those guys are my age after all, except for the teacher and he don't count. He's pretty cool about things anyhow leaving us pretty much alone while we are nude unless there is a lot of noise coming from the locker room, then he will poke his head in and tell us to knock it off.
Of course Billy and I have seen each other naked lots of times seeming as we share the same room and get into our pajamas and get dressed in there but as far as our parents go, outside of just once neither of them has seen me unclothed since I was a toddler. That one time that Dad saw me naked was when he had to take an emergency pee when I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying off before getting dressed and he had apologized that time for intruding but the need was great. I was maybe 11 years old at the time and now I had a lot more to show than when he last saw me.
Darn, it is embarrassing to be standing naked in front of someone, especially if your willie is stiff and pointing straight out from your body. I could feel my face heat up as Dad's eyes played over my body and I prayed he wouldn't comment on my state of arousal. Billy was blushing about as red as I am sure that I was although he did not have the same problem that I had, his penis was quite relaxed.
"Boys," Dad said, "I know you are a bit embarrassed to be standing here in front of me with no clothes on but it is a very important part of the ritual we are about to share. Nothing should come between a father and son when it comes to corporal punishment, your bottoms would have been bared anyway and I just prefer you to be in this state of dress. From now on when you are due a spanking you will take all your clothes off and pile them neatly on the bench and you will do it without being prompted, if I have to tell you to do it the spanking will just last longer."
Dad walked over to one of the walls and grabbed a heavy chair that he had made as a prototype. Mom had decided it was just too heavy to be used in the house so Dad kept it out here in the shop. I had stood on it many times to reach the workbench when I was young to work on a birdhouse or something like that under Dad's watchful eyes. Dad put the chair in the middle of the floor and then walked over and took down a paddle from a newly installed hook on the wall. I looked at it in horror as he carried it back to the chair and sat down.
It looked to be maybe a foot overall in length and had a business end of about eight inches or so by three inches wide. It seemed to be about a quarter of an inch thick and from the color it was made of maple wood. What surprized me a bit was although the handle part was nicely finished, heck, Dad had even checkered it like you do on a gunstock, the blade of the thing was unfinished. I just had to ask why.
"Dad," I said, "did you run out of finish for that thing?"
"No, son," he replied, "bare wood works best on a bare fanny, over the years it will acquire a finish of its own, don't worry about that."
"Over the years!" I thought, "He's serious about this new idea of his!" My behind started to twitch just thinking about how that thing would feel when it was hitting it.
"How this is going to work," Dad said, "is first you will be spanked and once I let you get up you will put your hands behind your head and stand back where you are right now. Once the two of you are spanked I will put you both into a corner to think about your crime, you will stand there with your hands behind your head, even try to rub your bottom and you'll be back across my knees for a fresh warm up. Pretty simple rules all told, I'm sure you will understand them well." He looked at me and nodded for me to come forward.
I stood by his right leg and was so embarrassed, my willie was still stiff as all get out and was even drooling out that clear fluid that happens every time it gets hard. Dad pretty much ignored it except to sort of push it downward as I lay down across his knees so it wouldn't get squashed on top of his thigh.
I was laying there across his knees in the absolute classic position for a boy to get a spanking, belly resting on top of his legs and my own legs hanging downward from where they were bent. My willie was rubbing against the his pants leg on the outside of his thigh and I just knew that Billy could see clean up my crack. It is one thing for him to see my butt, we see each other's all the time, it is another thing entirely for him to see me like this! Dad didn't help things at all for he took a firm grip around my ribs and then lowered his left leg and raised his right one so my behind was the highest part on my body, spreading my crack even wider for Billy's viewing. I was feeling a bit off balance so I grabbed ahold of his leg with one arm and the leg of the chair with the other and held on tight.
No more talking, it was time for my spanking to start. I could feel Dad's muscles move as he lifted the paddle on high and brought it smacking across my well exposed and vulnerable butt cheeks, right square in the middle of my buttocks!
When Mr. Smith had whipped my tail with his belt it hurt and hurt plenty but it was a different type of hurt. The belt stung my butt cheeks but it was a localized sting, sort of like getting stung by a bee. Of course by the time he was finished it felt like I had sat on an entire hive of the critters but it was all sharp little stings all over my butt.
The paddle, on the other hand, laid down a broad stripe of heat across my buns and by the time the third swat landed I forgot all about any shreds of modesty that I might have and started kicking my legs furiously and bucking my rear end up and down, anything to avoid the next stinging slap of that paddle. Dad just held on tight and brought the paddle searing down up and down my buttocks, from the top of my crack to just about where my butt meets my legs and just kept on spanking and spanking while I howled and cried and begged for the spanking to stop.
It didn't stop though, not for a long, long time. Dad just roasted my rump with that paddle, up and down my buttocks. He wasn't spanking me like Mr. Smith did, all over my rear end but kept most of the cracks of the paddle on the meaty part of my behind though I did get a couple of searing swats on the lower parts of my thighs when my kicking grew too vigorous. By the time we were finished it felt like all the hide had been burned right off the middle of my butt from top to bottom. I didn't know that a boy butt could hurt this much!
Dad stood me on my feet and my hands instinctively flew to my blazing cheeks. Dad reminded me quickly to put my hands behind my head with a couple of rapid fire swats on the backs of my thighs. I remembered and put my hands where they belong and stepped painfully back into line and stood there sobbing and crying while my fanny pulsed with pain.
Through tear streaked eyes I watched Billy get into position over Dad's knees, his cute little rounded, white behind presented for the sting of the paddle. I was conscious of the tears wetting my cheeks and my nose running from crying.
The paddle made it's first trip upward and first descent and there was an absolute fury of activity. Billy's legs just flew into the air, spread wide and I could see his pink butt hole showing in the middle of his crack and his tight scrotum bunched up below it. I got to see that a lot as the spanking continued and his fanny turned from white to pink and then to bright red as Dad smacked and smacked his bum with the paddle not paying any attention to his wailing and begging. Billy had been sobbing a little bit before the paddle had even touched his skin and just as soon as it did he was in full voice.
About half way through his spanking Billy started to wet under the pain of the constant onslaught of hard wood against soft skin and quite a puddle had formed on the floor of the shop by the time Dad let him get up with a scarlet stripe running up and down his buttocks. Billy had learned one thing from my experience, anyhow, his hands just flew to behind his head so he didn't get smacked on the backs of his thighs like I did. Dad then led both of us to corners to stand in, nose against the wall, to think over our sins.
God, didn't my bottom hurt! It was just throbbing with agony and I wanted nothing more than to give it a good rub to try to put out the flames burning back there but I had to stand there in that corner for over an hour. I could hear Dad moving around the workshop, mopping up the puddle of pee that Billy had deposited on the floor. I though then how ridiculous the two of us must look standing there naked with scarlet hind ends glowing out into the room.
We were finally let out of our corners and allowed to give a long overdue butt rub. I was frankly amazed that my butt was still there, I was sure that Dad had spanked it right off! It sure was hot to the touch and although I thoroughly explored it with my hands I couldn't find any blood anywhere, I was sure that there had to be skin missing.
While we were still standing there naked Dad had some more things to tell us.
"Boys," he said, "anything that happened out here today stayed between us males. I do not want you talking to your mother about your spankings, females just don't understand the value of a good old fashioned butt warming every now and again in raising sons. True, there are some mothers that will spank their sons but rarely on their bare bottom as it should be done and even then most will not spank long enough to make much of an impression. Fathers are not like that, most of us have been spanked ourselves in our youth and we know all about how a spanking feels and what results from them so you can expect me to tan your hides just as hard as I see fit. If she asks about it you can just tell her that you got punished and leave it at that, she doesn't have to know the details."
He paused for a minute and then went on. "I know that maybe some of your friends in school might ask about your bottoms, you can tell them if you want to, I'm sure a lot of them get spankings as well, it's up to you."
Yeah, some of my friends got spanked for sure, I'd seen the marks on their bottoms in the locker room and shower and in truth I was kind of the odd man out for never showing up to gym with any marks on my butt at all. I guess that now I had joined that club anyhow.
Dad then came over to each of us and hugged us tightly and kissed the tops of our heads, something he hadn't done for years. He then let us get dressed. I winced a little bit as I tugged my briefs up over my burning behind, it wasn't hurting as much as it had when I was getting the spanking but it was no treat, that's for sure.
"Oh, by the way, boys," Dad said as we were dressed and getting ready to leave the shop, "the spanking you got today was for stealing and lying about it. You still need some punishment for the money I'm out, we'll talk about that in a couple of weeks but be warned, misbehave between that time and now and we'll be taking a trip out here again and going through the old ritual again."
Goody, another spanking in two weeks, I can hardly wait.