Alistairs Dad unwrapped the brown paper parcel and smiled as the old pair of plimsoll's fell onto his desk. They had been a bargain at the Church jumble sale, they were rather worn, but perfect for his requirements, he picked up the right plimsoll and flexed it between his fingers. It was a size nine, the lace was missing, and the rubber sole was worn from frequent use, the fabric was slightly grubby, but otherwise not falling apart, it was flexible, and as he slapped the sole onto the palm of his left hand, the sharp sting confirmed its excellence as an implement to spank his son's bottom.
Alistairs Dad smiled wryly as he remembered the numerous slipperings he had recieved from his own Father as a boy. He had no doubts that to give his own son the slipper was only right and proper. He wondered how Alistair would react when next he was due a punishment. No doubt with some surprise when, instead of being bent over his Dad's knees and having his bottom soundly spanked, he was instructed to 'touch his toes' and then experience the biting sting of a thorough slippering! The man smiled thinking of the whole scenario, after all. a good slippering never did a boy any real harm. Although he could recall the whackings he had recieved, the pain, like most unpleasant memories, had dimmed over the years.
The plimsoll was placed in his desk drawer, and the left one, discarded at the back of a cupboard. For two days the man watched his son with an eagle eye, just waiting for an opportunity to try out his new 'equipment' but to his annoyance the boy was well behaved, however on the third morning, Alistair was most annoying at the breakfast table, complaining that his Mother had bought the wrong cereal, and sulking. Finally, Alistairs Dad lowered his newspaper and glared at his son,
"Be grateful you have anything to eat! lots of people are starving in the world!"
"Well they can have it then!"
Alistair pushed the bowl away from himself, untasted. Such was the force of the push that the bowl almost slid off the opposite side of the table into his Fathers lap! The milk and cereal slopped over the edge onto the man's trousers.
"Alistair! now look what you've done!"
His Mother quickly mopped up the mess and attempted to dab at her husbands trousers with the cloth.
"Leave it! I'll have to change now!......and you young man, are going to go to school with a very sore backside! GO TO MY STUDY!"
Alistair jumped up from the table, automatically placing his hands on his buttocks, he was only too aware of how his Dad's hard hand would feel as it smacked his small bottom.
"Daddy, Im sorry, please dont smack me, please Dad, pleeeaaase!"
The only response was a glare from his Dad and a finger pointing at the door. The boy miserably left the kitchen, and walked across the hall into his Father's study. He waited. As he wiped the mess from the front of his trousers his Dad said to his wife
"You'll hear a lot of fuss in a minute.......Im going to slipper the boy!"
"Are you Dear, well I suppose he deserves it, though you havent slippered him before have you?"
"No, this is the first time, but he's old enough, he's lucky I dont approve of caning young boys, though I have to say, if I had one in the house at this moment he would be getting 'six of the best' with it!"
Alistair looked up as his Dad walked into the study. He loved his Dad, but he hated it when he was placed across his knees and had his bottom smacked long and hard. Somewhat to his surprise, instead of pulling out the hard chair and seating himself, his Dad went behind his big desk and opened the top drawer. He reached in, and produced the plimsoll, pointing it at Alistair he said,
"Im going to give you the slipper.......bend over!"
The boy paled, he had seen boy's getting the slipper at school, though he had never got it himself yet. He knew from the distorted faces and the loud cries he had witnessed that a slippering was far more painful than a spanking.
"Please Dad, dont give me the slipper, please, I'll be good I promise, I really really will, please dad..........."
His words trailed off under the angry glare of his Father.
"I'll only say this ONCE MORE, bend over"
The tears started to flow as the boy bent over, placing his hands on his kness.
"Right down! touch your toes!........and stop that silly noise, I havent touched you yet, though you will be crying for real very soon!"
Alistair bent right down and touched his toes. He turned his head and watched as his Father approached, he then felt his school shirt being tugged from the back of his short trousers. When it had been folded back, he saw his Dad walk back to the desk, he twisted his head so he could see, and watched as his dad picked up the big plimsoll.
"This will hurt son, but do not attempt to get up before I tell you that you may do so, if you do, or if you try to stop the slippering by putting your hands on your bottom I will take your trousers down and start again! is that clear?"
Alistair could barely respond, he was crying quietly, and the very idea of having his trousers taken down terrified him. The man looked down at his son, the short trousers stretched tightly across the boy's bottom like a second skin. He wondered wether the boy would be able to stay down for the slippering he intended to administer. He swung his arm back and then with tremendous force he crashed the slipper down onto the boys bottom. There was a loud dull 'THWACK!' as the slipper landed in the middle of the small buttocks.
"AAARRGGGHHHH!!!!!!"
Alistair jumped up and clutched at his bottom, jumping up and down, hopping from foot to foot as the almost unendurable pain of the first stroke took effect. His Father watched unmoved.
"Get back down Alistair, or do you WANT to be slippered on your underpants!?"
The crying boy bent over again, though this time instead of touching his toes he gripped his ankles tightly. 'THWACK!' 'THWACK!' twice more the slipper landed, once on the right cheek, then on the left. Alistair yelled and yelled. 'THWACK!' the right cheek again, 'THWACK!' the left cheek, then, just as the sixth stroke was about to be delivered the study door opened and his Mother put her head in the room, just in time to see the sixth stroke land squarely in the middle of the boys bottom 'THWACK!' Alistair yelled again, sobbing loudly.
"For Heavens sake what a noise!........Im sure you can be heard in the street!"
His Father turned to his wife, pointing the plimsoll at her,
"Almost finished Dear, two to go!"
She smiled and went back into the hall, closing the door gently. The man swung his arm back and gave two more hard whacks to the middle of his son's backside 'THWACK!' 'THWACK!' He then stepped back and tossed the slipper onto the desk, he surveyed his son, still bending over, crying and sobbing. He was well satisfied that he had 'nicely reddened' the boys bottom.
"Very well, get up"
Alistair stood slowly, his bottom on fire, the deep throbbing ache seeming almost worse then the initial biting sting of the slipper. He couldnt believe anything could feel this bad, he couldnt imagine being able to take even one more whack with the slipper. He cried and cried, rubbing furiously at his throbbing backside.
Five minutes later, shirt neatly tucked in, the boy was called for by his friends and left for school, eyes red, bottom sore! In the bedroom as his father changed into a clean pair of trousers his wife came into the room,
"From what I saw, was'nt that a bit hard for his first slippering Edward?"
"Nonsense! what's the point of giving the boy the slipper if it does'nt hurt! and I would prefer it if you didnt come into the room when Im punishing the boy"
His wife smiled and kissed him on the cheek,
"You men and your.........rituals!" she grinned.
Edward tucked his shirt into his trousers, his fingers brushing the slightly larger than usual bulge in the front of his white underpants. He was sure that as from today, the slipper would be frequently used on that young mans bottom. And so it was, until Alistair was sixteen years old, the plimsoll was kept on the hall stand, always handy, and it was indeed frequently applied to the boys backside, initially through the short trousers, then as Alistair grew older, across the seat of his underpants, and then in the last year, to the boys maturing bare buttocks. And yes, the sixteen year old Alistair cried as much from his Dad's slipperings as the young Alistair had the very first time....