I think about the worst part of getting spanked is the waiting. Well, maybe not, the spanking itself can be really bad on occasion, especially if I have broken one of Dad's many 'Golden Rules', but the anticipation of a spanking and having a pretty good idea of how it will feel are almost as bad. Waiting has to come in a close second, then.
The biggest, shiniest one of the Golden Rules goes something like this-- 'Thou shalt obey thy parents and never, ever give them any lip'--kinda long for a stone tablet, sure, but engraved in stone regardless. I have always been a mouthy kid and never seem to think before I speak and have thus been the guest of honor at a father/son meeting out here in the workshop many, many times, starting when I was about seven or eight years old.
It was at that age that my mother decided it was time for me to get untied from her apron strings and turned my discipline over to my father. Before I might get a swat or two on the seat of my pants from Mom and I recall once catching about four stinging slaps on the seat of my underpants as I was getting changed for bed but that was about all. I thought that I knew what a spanking was all about but Dad sure set me straight the first time I was 'invited' to walk out to the workshop.
I had been a bit of a brat all day but instead of punishing me, Mom just said "Wait until your father gets home." Okay with me, that was in the future. I kept up my behavior and most likely earned quite a few extra swats during that day. Dad finally got home from work and I could see Mom talking to him.
Dad hung up his coat and took off his necktie, he worked in an office where a tie was required, and called for me to take a walk with him. We went into his hobby workshop and closed the door. Dad took a heavy chair from along the wall, I used it to be able to see the top of the bench while working on a birdhouse or something like that with Dad, put the chair in the middle of the floor and sat down and called me over to him. He gestured to his right side so I walked around there and stood by his leg. Dad reached over and unbuttoned the button on my jeans, slid down the zipper and lowered my jeans to just about my knees. That seemed a bit strange but it got even stranger when he put his fingers in the waistband of my underpants and lowered them to match the jeans. My willie popped out straight and stiff although I didn't have much to show at that time and it felt strange standing there naked in between my knees and my T-shirt.
Dad then launched into this lecture and although it was pretty corny I remember every word of it even years later. It is interesting but I found out later on in life that when a member of a primitive tribe wanted to teach a young boy something important, something that they would need for survival, that lesson was reinforced with pain, quite often a sound thrashing on the boy's buttocks. Even primitive peoples realized that a boy's backside can be beaten and whipped with relative impunity, there is nothing vital to damage back there.
"Son," Dad said, "we are about to begin a ritual that fathers and sons have been going through for centuries unknown. I am about to give you your first genuine father/son bare bottom spanking, the first of many I am sure. If possible we will always do these spankings out here in the workshop and when I send you out here I want you to pull down your pants and underwear just like this and wait for me to arrive. I may take a few minutes, I may take an hour or two but you better be waiting just like this when I get here, if you are not your punishment will be much greater." Dad then had me go over to the bench under the window and take all my clothing off, putting them on top of the bench until I was dressed in my birthday suit. Once naked he called me back over to his side.
Nudity in my family was pretty much unheard of, I got changed from pajamas to clothing in the bathroom with the door closed and sometimes locked, once I got potty trained and graduated to the toilet all calls of nature were answered behind closed doors as well so being naked here in front of Dad out in his workshop was embarrassing as all get out. What happened next was even worse.
"You are now going to get your first real spanking," Dad said as he guided me down over his knees. He pulled me down so my stiffie was between his slightly spread legs and put his left arm over my naked back. He then dropped his left leg a lot so I was quite head down and looking at the floor and raised up the right one so my behind was bent upward almost pointing at the ceiling. I grabbed his leg to balance myself and felt Dad's hand rub over my naked bottom. I suddenly realized that the 'spot-that-is-never-mentioned', the one that Mom had always taught me to keep clean but never mention or, heaven's forbid, show to anyone, must be out in plain view for Dad to see for I felt his fingers brush over it when he was running his hand over my bare bum. This was horribly humiliating, the last time I was touched back there must be about four, five years ago when Mom would sometimes check my bum after I'd gone potty, I can still hear her 'tsk, tsking' as she would scrub my butt hole with a soapy washcloth. I used to have to bend over and touch my toes with my legs spread for her examination, this position was a lot similar. It is funny, though, I was embarrassed to be caught with a dirty bum but somehow it felt pretty good when Mom would scrub away at it with the rough washcloth.
I didn't have long to think about the humiliation of having my asshole exposed to Dad's view for Dad stopped rubbing my butt, lifted his hand and brought it down sharply on the surface he was just rubbing. Another slap landed before I drew breath to yell but holy crap, didn't I yell then! I was bawling and begging and promising to be good and kicking frantically trying to avoid the next spank but all to no avail at all, Dad just spanked and spanked and spanked. Yes, due to my kicking and bouncing around that spot I was so concerned about got smacked a few times as well as the rest of my behind.
I would find out later that it was not really a harsh spanking, it was long lasting, sure, it went on about ten minutes of pretty steady butt slapping but none of them were hard, it was a really stinging spanking which left my entire bottom burning like all get out.
I learned about corner time that day as well, it was part and parcel of the spanking. Dad took me straight from his knees over to the corner and made me stand there with hands on head and facing the wall, displaying my red, spanked behind for all to see, glowing in the center of my nude body. After maybe a hour's reflection time in the corner I was allowed to leave it and get dressed.
This was the pattern from that time on, I'd be sent out to the workshop to wait for Dad with my pants and underwear down by my knees. I figured it out why he just didn't have me strip to begin with, when you are nude lots of things could be going to happen, there aren't too many reasons why a guy would stand around with his pants and shorts just pulled down. Physical exam, maybe mooning someone, or about to get his ass tanned. One other thing that always happened in these cases, I always got a woody which just lasted and lasted like that darn pink rabbit in the battery commercials. When I got to about age ten I learned why my willie got stiff and was even more embarrassed, what if Dad thinks that I like getting my butt tanned? The funny thing is, I sorta did.....
Okay, I didn't like the spanking at all outside of maybe the first dozen or so slaps of his strong hand or later on the belt, strap or paddle, Dad was willing to experiment on my backside to figure out which kind of tool made the most impression. Up to the time that my bum really started to burn from the hiding it actually felt kinda good in a strange kind of way, I do know that it made my erect willie drool out pre-cum fluid like a faucet.
Actually, that happened from the time that I was sent to the workshop and never seemed to stop until I jerked off after my spanking and corner time was over and I was allowed to go, at first just a drop would appear at the end of my penis and as I thought about the spanking to come the drop expanded into a steady silvery stream running downward toward the floor, heck, when I was told to go to the shop I got hard and started to drool so my briefs would look like I actually wet them by the time I got out there and into my dropped pants position to wait. The funny thing is Dad never even mentioned my boner or the fluid running out of it, maybe he just figured it was normal for a boy, after all, he was once one himself.
Dad never spanked me without giving me the reason why and how I could avoid a repeat of the spanking and he always waited until I was naked and standing by his right side at attention before beginning his lecture. That made it more embarrassing if possible, especially as I got older and taller for I was standing there, hands behind my head and my stiffie was almost at eye level with him. I know that he saw the stream of pre-cum drooling from my willie, he couldn't help but see it, and it made me feel almost like I had done something like peed or messed my pants in front of him, it was that embarrassing to me. He never once mentioned my condition, however and just ignored my drooling.
At first, when I was young, Dad's strong right hand was the tool of choice for heating up my rear end, over his knees I would go, bottom up and head down and he would spank and spank until it felt like the skin was being burnt off of my ass. The corner time afterwards was even worse for I wanted to just touch my fanny to make sure it wasn't damaged beyond repair but had to stand there with my hands behind my head and cry while my backside burned and burned.
As I grew older and got to growing hair in strange places the spankings underwent a change as well, Dad began to use a tool on my ass instead of his hand. That does not mean that he didn't still use his hand on my rump, every spanking no matter what started with a good, hard, behind warming by hand before he gave me a breather and we went on to the main attraction of the day.
If I was to be paddled or hided with the belt after I was allowed some crying time standing beside his right side with my hands behind my head it was back over his knees while he really would blister my butt with many, many strokes of the doubled over belt or slaps of the paddle. I don't know which I hated worse, the belt stung like mad but the stings were quite localized while the paddle just lit my entire rump on fire, a blazing, all over heat. It made no real difference, I bawled and begged and kicked my legs like I was running in place laying down. I don't think I have to say that Dad got many, many looks at my butt hole during these sessions over his knees. Slapped it quite a few times as well, boy, don't that belt hurt when it stings my asshole!
The strap was saved for extra special spankings and boy, didn't I dread that thing! Not only was it extremely painful but the position I was put in was humiliating as all get out as well. I call it the strap but what it actually was is an antique razor strop, very useful on a boy's behind.
The strop has came into play in the last couple of years, since I was sixteen or so. Dad tends to reserve it for my worst behavior and I'm afraid this might be one of those times. The technique involved is a bit different for the strop only works well at a distance but gosh, how it works that way!
After getting a good, sound tanning by hand, and these spankings tend to be quite prolonged and very painful, Dad will let me catch my breath for the second part of my punishment. He has made an oversized sawhorse that is padded on the top with an old blanket and that is what I have to lay over for the second phase when I'm getting the strop. It hits me just at the waist and I have to bend over it and hold onto a bar across the legs, way down by the floor and I also have to keep my legs spread as wide as possible, rather lewdly exposing myself to Dad's view. He designed it so my toes have to be touching the two legs which keeps me spread wide and gives me a reference point to go by, the rules state that my feet have to be in this position before a swat will land. I can kick my legs as much as I want to so long as both sets of toes are touching the legs once I settle down.
I knew that I was really exposed over that horse so once when nobody was at home I got ahold of a mirror and set it up to see just how I look from Dad's point of view. I got the mirror set up by just bending over the horse with my pants on and once I got the view proper I stripped and bent over the horse like I was about to feel that heavy leather strop across my nether cheeks. I blushed when I saw just how exposed I am over that thing.
I always somehow knew that my asshole was exposed, I could feel a breeze blowing across it over the horse and used to feel many stings from the strop on it but I never realized just how exposed it is. There is was in all its glory, a wrinkled spot just above my ball sack, surrounded by just a little bit of dark hair. About all you couldn't see in this position is my willie, that was pointing straight ahead toward my chest.
Now at the age of seventeen I'm not quite as shy about my body as I used to be, a few doctor's exams which always seem to examine areas of my body considered 'private' and getting changed for gym and showering afterwards with three dozen other naked guys has taken care of that for me. There is something a lot different about having your privates seen in the setting of a locker room and even catching an occasional glimpse of a butt hole and being forced to expose yourself in this manner for punishment. Okay, I know that Dad has seen that area of my body before but not so blatantly as this, my butt hole looks like the bullseye on a target.
That might be more a statement of fact than you might think for Dad does seem to target that area a lot with the strop. Getting hided with the strop tends to go along with a lot of lecturing at the same time and it can be a very prolonged process for Dad makes sure that the normally unspanked area of my backside ends up as red and sore as the outside areas.
Of course during a normal across the knees spanking it is the outside areas of a guy's bottom that get the most punishment, the crack does get smacked on occasion, normally when I'm kicking furiously trying to avoid the next stinging smack, but all told from what I've seen by checking my bum out in the mirror in my bedroom after a spanking the entire outside will be red and hot while my crack tends to stay white. Not so after a going over with the strop, the insides of my crack from where my balls dangle and upward match the color of the outside of my ass. Dad seems to be able to make that strop sting any part of my bum that he wants to and does.
Dad does not neglect the outside contours of my bottom during a stropping, far from it, there isn't an area that doesn't get stung by that well oiled leather. I've found out from experience that Dad is equally good backhanded as he is forehanded when it comes to butt whipping, he can and does smack from either side.
I really can't describe what it feels like to get your asshole swatted by a strop, the pain is incredible! Most folks don't know it but there are more nerve ending per square inch on your anus than just about any other place on your body and that strop stimulates them all. Most of your butt will get a bit numb after a prolonged spanking but not that area, each new swat hurts more than the last one and I just howl and kick all over the place after each and every swat back there. Sometimes if the pain get bad enough I actually will pee a little bit. It's not easy to pee with an erection and when it does come out it feels boiling hot for some reason.
What is much, much worse and fortunately its only happened to me a few times is cumming while getting a stropping. Getting my asshole swatted is horribly painful but at the same time it makes me incredibly horny as well and if Dad happens to target that triangle of skin just below my asshole and above my balls which is actually the base of my penis I will cum.
Now don't get me wrong, the cumming itself is wonderful, I only wish that I could duplicate the feeling when I'm beating my meat in bed at night before I go to sleep. Combined with the flaming pain on my butt the feeling of cumming is just mind blowing, I seem to cum and cum forever and for that short period of time I forget all about the stinging slaps of the strop on my naked hide although they do keep on landing, my whole attention is wrapped up in my boy parts and the wonderful feeling that is going on with them.
It is the aftermath that is horrible, Dad will not end my punishment just because I've cum and nothing hurts more than getting an already sore ass swatted right after that happens. Every stroke of the strop feels like molten lava running across my skin and this is when I sometimes lose control of my bladder entirely and just pee and pee while bawling my eyes out. It hurts so much that I can't even kick anymore and just lay there while the strop burns into my hide.
I always get a special long corner time after a stropping, sometimes up to two hours. It looks strange when I look down and see my willie drooping and limp if I have cum, normally it is pointing into the corner that I am standing in. It never stays that way for very long and before my corner time is over it is stiff and straight out once more.
Dad has never mentioned my leaking various fluids when I get spanked and cleans up the mess while I'm still in the corner. I guess that he just figures that a boy leaking some while getting spanked is par for the course, I know that I have also peed on his pant's leg on occasion when I get paddled and he's never mentioned that either. Sometimes a spanking just hurts so much that you can't pay attention to silly things like having to control your bladder, you have more important things on your mind. I have found out through reading that such wetting is involuntary, grown men that are caned for punishment in Singapore tend to urinate long and copiously after about the second stroke of the cane lands across their naked buttocks so I don't feel quite so bad.
One good thing has come out of these spankings of mine, I have added to my masturbation routine when I am in bed at night. I have found out that if I press hard on my anus with the fingers of my other hand just as I'm cumming it feels much nicer and seems to last longer, I guess that I have Dad to thank for that for I don't think I ever would have done such a thing if he hadn't spanked me there and showed my just how sensitive it is.
Now I am standing here, pants and shorts to my knees and looking out the window waiting for Dad to appear. What will it be this time, the belt, the paddle or the strop? As pissed as he is I'm betting on the strop and soon I will be wailing and crying over that darn horse while he lights my ass completely on fire. My willie is so stiff that my balls are aching from needing to cum and it is drooling pre-cum like a faucet, this waiting and anticipation makes me so horny! I wish he'd hurry up!