(This is part of a group of true stories, taking place throughout my life, childhood to present day. Like all other in this series, the spanking took place as written. This story marks the beginning of about a dozen stories of teenage spankings that took place as I was raising my family. These specific spankings took place in response to an unusual event, requiring immediate punishment. Plus, all of them involve a boy or girl not part of our family. In our children's daily routine, a merit and demerit system was used, with spankings given after a certain demerit accumulation.)
Jeff was a neat 14 year old, getting ready to turn 15 at the time of this story. He lived about 2 blocks from us, but because of his family situation, it seemed he spent more time with us, than with his own family. He was the middle child, with 2 sisters. His father had been killed when he was 11 in an industrial accident. At the time of his father's death, his mother and father were in the middle of an ugly divorce. His mother consequently turned alcoholic and had a series of younger men boyfriends living with her and the kids. Jeff had been a super second baseman for me on one of my little league teams. Just before his father's death, Jeff's dad had praised me in front of his son. Jeff and my second oldest boy were close buddies, and Jeff became part-time member of our household.
Jeff was going to have access to some of his trust funds when he turned 16, but he needed to work part-time to give him some immediate spending money. His mother was bitter about the will her late husband set up, virtually cutting her out of the estate, except leaving her money to raise the kids until they were 18. She didn't give a dime to the kids, and Jeff had the same needs/wants that anyother 14 year would have, living in our kind of suburban/rural town.
One of my team sponsors had been a local fast food restaurant, owned by the man in charge of our winter little league wrestling program. Mike understood Jeff's needs after I talked to him, and gave Jeff a job. Jeff looked neat in his new white "cook's" counter uniform. Even today, he has virtually the same build he did at 14. He was naturally muscular, stocky, but not an ounce of fat on him. He looked like a 5' 3", small linebacker that was constantly in the weight room, with a head of brown/blonde hair. He had no body hair, soccer player legs and a humpy shelf for a butt.
Jeff had been working at the restaurant several months, when Mike called me and asked me to stopy by. I knew Mike well enough, that the tone in his voice spoke volumes. Later that afternoon I stopped by and went into the restaurant. He was behind the counter and motioned me over to a corner table in the virutally empty main room. I sat down and he joined me several mintues later.
"Jason, I've got a real problem with Jeff. Over the past week I have purposely monitored his cash register drawer. He is stealing from me!", Mike said with no humor in his face or voice.
"_d_a_m_n_ Mike, how do you know that it is him?", I responded. Mike then went into some detail on how his internal checks and balances work. He had noticed over the summer a higher loss ratio on Jeff's drawer, and then set his detection system into place. We then went back to the office and he showed me how it worked. He had Jeff dead to rights.
"Mike, I am sorry, because this wouldn't have happened, if you hadn't done me the favor of hiring him. You also know how I treat this kind of conduct. How much are we looking at bottom line?"
"As of last night, $189.65."
"OK. First thing, don't pay your $200- baseball team sponsorship bill. I'll cover that. Second, keep him on just as he is. Third, deduct half of his wages each week to recover your cost. When he has paid you back, then you can pay me. And thanks for not turning him in, I'll make sure he doesn't steal from you again, or anyone else for that matter." I was pissed!
When I got home, Jeff was watching TV with my kids, dressed in knit pull on shorts, t-shirt and sandals. I went downstairs to my office and called a farmer friend of mine and got his permission to use a hay barn in his back field. I explained the situation and he agreed with my use of his barn completely. I then reached into my bottom desk drawer and got the Jokari paddle out and slipped it into my brief case and went back upstairs to the TV room.
"Hey Jeff, lets take a ride back into town, Mike wants to take care of his baseball sponsorship and I thought you might want to tag along.", I said happily. His face lit up and jumped up, ready to go. When we got to the road going into town, I turned the opposite direction.
"Mr. Parker, you turned wrong. You need glasses or something?", he said trying to tease me.
"No Jeff, we are going to take care of something at Brown's barn before we see Mike." Jeff didn't question it, and we exchanged chit chat until we got to Brown's farm and my Suburban got us back to the barn. I turned off the engine and turned in my seat and faced Jeff.
"Jeff, we have a problem. I am not going to try and play games with you about what I am going to now say. I was with Mike before I came home and he showed me the cash register receipts from your drawers. He can prove you have stolen a pretty good amount of money. I am going to take you into this barn and give you an old fashioned paddling. The only question is this. What can you tell me to take it easy on you. Don't deny the theft, it will only make your spanking worse. Let's have it now!", I barked.
Jeff was stunned. He didn't say anything. He nervously crossed his legs up under his butt and started toying with his toes. I could see tears beginning to drip onto his legs and feet, as his head hung down.
"Mr. Parker, I've been wanting this used ATV at Brumley's. It's perfect. I needed to pay him more money at once so he would hold onto it for me. I was just borrowing the money from Mike....honest.", he looked up at me with tears coming out of his dark brown eyes.
For the next few minutes I told him what I had agreed to do and the position his actions had put me in with Mike. I could tell he felt bad about the risk he had taken. Now he was going to have to pay the cost of reimbursement, plus get paddled. He agreed he deserved it. I reached into the back seat and pulled the paddle out of my briefcase and Jeff started to blubber. I motioned for him to get out of the car and into the barn.
We entered the barn and I ordered him to strip to his briefs. This took no time at all, since all he had to do was kick off his sandals, pull down and kick off his shorts and then peel off his t-shirt. He stood their in his white BVD briefs, head down, quietly crying, as he scuffed the dirt floor with his bare feet.
I sat down on a hay bale and motioned him over, putting the paddle down. He shuffled over and I pulled him across my left leg, wrapping my right leg over his smooth, muscular legs. His briefs fit tight across his angled buns. I adjusted the waistband and leg openings, smoothed out the seat of his briefs, and then began to rub his buns covered by the white fabric.
"Jeff how much did you steal?", I asked very quietly.
"$194.50 Mr. Parker.", he said between soft sobs.
"So much for Mike's crack accounting.", I thought to myself. "OK Jeff, here is what I am going to do. Since you readily admitted to the theft, and since you appear to really be sorry, I am not going to give this to you all with a paddle.", I said as I massaged his buns and felt them relax slightly with my remark.
"I am going to give you 50 with my hand on your briefs, 50 with the paddle on your briefs, 50 with the paddle on your bare and 45 with my hand on your bare, a total of 195. About a dollar a swat." I said with a firm voice. Jeff began to openly cry and beg as I raised my hand high above my head.
"SPLAT", I caught his right cheek dead center, my hand barely covering the whole cheek.
"SPLAT", the left cheek got the same treatment and his crying now reacted to the swat.
The next swat got his right cheek and the fourth got his left. The fifth right in the middle, landing on the crotch mark of his clinching buns. I paused and lectured him for a moment and resumed the same pattern. Every five swats I paused to massage his butt, dragging out the punishment. After twenty swats his head was snapping back and his legs tried to kick against my right leg. By forty he was wailing and sobbing without any hold back.
I paused and again massaged the white fabric of his brief covered buns, very warm from hard swats I had just delivered. I lectured him some more as he begged me to stop and not give him any more. I picked up the paddle and raised it up to my shoulder as he clenched his buns together, creasing the white fabric into his ass crack.
"CRACK", I connected right across the bottom of his briefs, just above the leg openings as his head and right arm snapped back at the sharp new pain. I grabbed his wrist, and pinned into the center of his back. He begged for me to stop.
"CRACK", this one landed higher up and he screamed louder. Over the next few minutes I carefully covered all of his butt, waistband to leg openings. Pausing evey 2-3 seconds between swats, I gave him the kind of punishment paddling a teenage thief deserves. By the time I hit 50, he was bucking up and down on my lap, toes pounding into the dirt floor of the barn, a long series of wails puntuated by screams of "NO" and "STOP". I laid he paddle down and massaged his buns for about a half a minute.
"Jeff, I want you to stand up in front of me and put your hands on top of your head. DON"T RUB!", I said very loud. I had too, he was crying and sobbing non-stop. I released his legs from my leg and let go of his wrist. He dropped to his knees and sobbed for a minute. Then he slowly got up, putting his hands on top of his head and faced me. His face was dusty from the dirt of the barn floor, with streaks of tears running down his cheeks as he looked down at me, his legs shaking as he stood in front of me.
I pulled his briefs to his knees, and he started shaking even more, his _d_i_c_k_ and balls bouncing up and down in front of my face. "Step out of them Jeff.", I said quietly. He raised his leg and pulled it out of his sweat moistened briefs and then stepped out of them. Before he could say anything I pulled him quickly back across my left leg, again wrapping my right leg over his legs.
His bare buns were dark red with no sign of the paddling he had just gotten. I knew from experience that his briefs had done that. But those marks would appear now as I picked up the paddle and raised it to my shoulder. Jeff clenched hard, muscles of his buns and legs taut.
"CRACK" and he screamed loud and clear as the first swat hit his tightened buns dead center. 49 more times the paddle landed on his butt, his body and head bucking and snapping with each new swat. By the time I was finished, he was virtually incoherent. His buns were glowing red from the sweat of his body's constant struggle against the fire I had built in his butt. Now there were paddle marks in his smooth buns, as I put the paddle down and massaged his very warm buns. He begged for no more as I raised my hand for his final 45.
His final swats landed mostly on his upper thighs, turning them red. The few swats that landed on his butt, were right at the meeting of his legs and butt cheeks. This new pain in his legs just increased his wailing. But soon that too was over and I spent almost ten minutes bringing him down from the pain and fire of his spanking by massaging his buns and legs. When he got up, he slowly put back on his clothes. I had to smile, because his shorts didn't hide the red makrs on his thighs. "Thank God he can't see that", I thought to myself. He would have really been embarassed seeing Mike.
We went into town and Jeff, Mike & I spent some time in Mike's office. By the time Mike was verbally thru with the kid, he was openly crying again. We left the restaurant too many stares. Since a good number of the customers knew me, they could tell exactly what had happened to Jeff.
Today Jeff is a very successful restaurant executive. Mike and he became fast friends, and Jeff fell in love with the food service industry. In a recent visit to my home, he and I visited a local restaurant that he wanted to buy. The price was right and he and his family are going to be a great addition to our local community.
(The rest of my twenty+ true stories are posted on the main MMSA Stories index, in somewhat alpha/chronological order. Many of you each week e-mail me with your comments about my true stories. In my business travels, I then sometimes satisfy those same reader's needs to spanked by an old fashioned Dad.)