Joel entered his bedroom and put his books down on his desk. His hands were shaking as he fished around in the closet for the leather mesh belt his bare bottom would soon be thrashed with. A knot of dread and fear grew as he searched and fished around until he found the belt. Its buckle jingled ominously as he carried it to his bed. Then he got into his pajamas. Unzipping his pants, he pulled them down and off, then slid off his white Hanes briefs. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the dresser mirror. He studied his bare bottom for a moment up close, noting the contrast of his pinkish cheeks with the tan line of his trunk. The pinkish marks were from the wooden spoon he had been spanked with just a half hour before, and running his hand across them he felt their warmth. His penis suddenly grew hard and he felt a strange erotic pleasure despite the pain he was in would soon receive. Joel knew that soon his young boyish plump smooth behind would be red, not pink and he'd be left sobbing examining welts left by the wicked swats from the black tormentor mesh belt.
Joel knew the routine, from practice: he'd be told to go to bed after Dad had finished the "spanking" and he'd try to fall asleep on his stomach. After the worst of the burn and sting had subsided, giving way to a sensation of throbbing warmth, he'd slip his briefs back down and rub himself all over with baby oil. Quietly he would masturbate and when he came it always was wet and very pleasing. Somehow it lessened the pain – both physical and mental –and made these ordeals of boyhood a bit easier to deal with. At 12, Joel was an old hand at taking himself in hand, so to speak. Now, though, turning back to the bed he put on his pajamas and laid down awaiting the arrival of his father, whom Joel was very close to and loved deeply. He tried to quell the tingling in his butt and the butterflies in his belly. He promised himself to try not to cry, but he knew that was futile.
Earlier Joel arrived from his friend's home to find an annoyed mother waiting for him. She sharply ordered him into the kitchen to wait. Joel sat down, fear and confusion rising from his mom's clipped and irritated tone. A moment later she strode in, walked over to the table and through gritted teeth demanded Joel tell her exactly what and where he was doing the night previous. As Joel answered " At Jay's place, mom", she threw an almost empty package of wooden matches onto the table.
"Doing what, Joel Nathaniel Pearson? Where did these come from and why do you have them?"
Joel felt his stomach do a back flip. She had found them in his jeans, obviously. She wanted details. What was he burning? And what had he been told about playing with fire? Joel started to sob, the 12-year-old sympathy play of all time, and searched for a plausible explanation. He settled on the truth – mom had probably talked to Jay's parents already. He swallowed hard.
" We were building a bonfire in Jay's backyard to roast weenies" he sniffled.
" A bonfire? Were there grownups there?", Mom demanded.
" No mom," Joel whimpered, " but we used the fire pit." " Uh huh. That means you not only disobeyed us about playing with fire, but you tried to cover it up as well. She strode to the drawer by the sink and withdrew a large wooden spoon.
" You've earned your rear end some grief, Joel. I'm going to put you over my knee and warm your behind myself, but this is only the start. I have talked to your dad and you will be REALLY spanked, with the strap, when he gets home. Got anything to say for yourself?" she asked as she pulled Joel to his feet.
Joel said nothing, but started to whimper as his mom spun him around by the arm. Joel next had his pants pulled down to his ankles -- all at once and together with his briefs. The sudden waft of cool air crossed his lower body and Joel reached to cover his privates. The mother, anger evident in her swiftness dragged him to a chair. Sitting down she upended the smallish boy over her lap and shifted her position so Joel's bottom was jackknifed into a perfect arc for a spanking.
"Weenie roasts, hmm? I think a roast of your butt is an even better idea!" she exclaimed.
"Wait until your dad gets home, Joel. You're going to get the belt, good and hard too. But for now," Joel felt his arm being pinioned to his back, " here's a dose of foxfire to warm up with. Joel started to plead into the carpeted floor where his nose was touching. He was aware of the cool air wafting across his very naked, very smooth trembling bottom.
"SPLAT!" Joel felt a sudden burning rush of pain into his bottom. He cried out but was interrupted.....
"SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!"
Aside from crying out "NOOO! OW! OWeeeeeEEEEE STOP OWEEE! I'm SoooOOORRRY", Joel made no other protest.
Joel swung his feet violently and twisted his hips. He was crying at full voice but his mother was relentless. Where the spoon landed the skin would go white briefly before coming back a vibrant pink and then red. Joel simply couldn't NOT cry, it was automatic and beyond his control. His mother seemed deaf to his cries and carefree about damage to the tender bare bottom of her son. She began to spank with her hand and the sound of her palm -- "SMACK!"-- filled the room. Again Joel cried out as his mother methodically spanked every square inch of his bare wriggling buttocks and thighs.
" How many times ("SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!") do you need to be told ("SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!") that fire is off limits?("SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!") No adult, no bonfire ("SMACK!" "SMACK!" "SMACK!") GOT THAT?", his mother lectured as she spanked.
Eventually Joel's mom stopped her onslaught and Joel reached around to massage the fire burning in his bottom. Sobbing, he was sent to his room to do his homework and wait for his dad and the belt, which luckily was at least two hours away. Fortunately, dad was working late. By that time Joel hoped his red butt skin should have almost returned to normal. But it was sure to return with the lashes from the spanking belt Joel now put out on his bed. He pulled his pants back down and rubbed himself until the sting had subsided.
So it was the Joel waited on the bed for his dad's arrival. Joel was angry now, frankly. Angry at having to be punished this way by BOTH parents. His young body violated, his bottom especially, and he was humiliated at having his pants pulled down like a 4 year old at the supermarket. There was something else, too, an odd sense of – what—_s_e_x_ual feelings? These he couldn't comprehend. As much as his bottom would hurt, mixed in with the pain and especially afterwards Joel found his penis grow hard and in the throbbing warmth of his bottom was some pleasure he could masturbate to, as I've already explained. This phenomenon started six months before and grew into a little game for Joel. Joel had even a few times talked Jay into letting him pull down his pants and spank the bare bottom of Jay and his brother until they were red. To the point of crying, once, and using a belt just like Jay got at home also. Joel derived much pleasure in these erotic spanking games and the boys had progressed to masturbating each other to orgasm. Now, as Joel lay on his bed he found himself filled with both dread and delicious anticipation, and his penis stayed half erect. He waited that way for another hour before Dad could be heard downstairs.
After what seemed like an eternity Joel heard the sound of footfall on the stairs to his bedroom. His pulse quickened and he was almost breathless. Real, profound fear gripped him – the belt was torturously painful –and he thought about running. But the doorknob opened and dad came in. He turned on the light. Sitting on the bed he began to speak.
"Mom tells me she found some matches in your pants, son You know that you aren't to have any, don't you?" he asked.
" Yeah Daddy -- er, Dad, -- and she spanked me for it, too. I'm really sorry!" Joel exclaimed. I promise you no more fires, honest! We were using the fire pit and all and...."
Dad interrupted.
"You're sorry that you were caught and face severe punishment son, if you are honest with yourself and me. But I am afraid you've earned another spanking from me as well for being disobedient, and for doing something dangerous mostly. It is going to hurt you, yes, but it hurts me also to have to do it.
Joel wondered at this. His dad, in contrast with his mom and Jay's dad were both visibly angry when spanking. Joel's dad never was, tousling hair when lecturing, kissing the top of his head, even rubbing cream into the blazing red bottom of his son afterwards.
He maintained a cool detachment when spanking or punishing his son, dispassionately flailing away, -- HARD – at the bared bottom stretched out or bent in front of him. Oblivious to the shrieks and cries of Joel or his sister. Then, he was always affectionate afterwards—almost, one would suppose, from guilt.
He continued to lecture Joel about willful disobedience, his love for Joel and his sister, his duties to severely punish dangerous mischief, and his wishes it weren't necessary. He told Joel he was grounded for a week, and then kissed him while saying " Okay, 'sonshine', time to get this over with."
Standing, he picked up the mesh belt, bade Joel to stand up, and Joel began to sob. Dad asked Joel if he wanted to stand up for his spanking or lay across the bed. Joel chose to lay on his tummy on the bed. The reason: bending over while standing pulled the buttocks skin too tight and sometimes that meant bruises. Laying on the bed it was easier to avoid fighting too much, also. His dad pulled Joel's Pj's and briefs down but Joel resisted, sobbing and pleading. Joel had hoped he'd be allowed to keep them up, but his dad merely said, " Come on, Joely. Pull your Pj's down son. You know this is always done on your bare bottom, kiddo."
Joel lifted his hips as his dad pulled his garments down leaving a quivering bare bottom still slightly pink from before. Once again Joel felt the room air waft across the quivering flesh of his backside and shame at his nakedness. He heard a jingle from the belt buckle as dad doubled it into a loop. Panting and trembling Joel laid awaiting execution. He heard a "SWISHH" and then.....
"THWACK!!" the belt found its mark "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" After the second lash, the full extent of the fiery agony reached Joel's brain. He arched his back and howled. "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" An anguished and pain filled shriek filled the room, and Joel jerked his legs and kicked at the air with his feet. Out next came a long drawn-out wail:
"AAAAAAAAAH—OWWWEEEE–WEEE–UGH– WEEEEEeeeeeeeeuhn!!"
As the swats rained down ("THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!") He writhed about the bed. He cried loudly and constantly, his bottom wriggling furiously, vainly trying to put out the fires in his blazing buttocks. For a long ninety seconds Joel's cries mixed with lash sounds were all that could be heard. Shrieks, sobs, grunts and cries interspersed with "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" "THWACK!!" Joel's bottom flared pink, then red and crimson as welts began to form. Each swat brought new agony and squeals of pain, but Dad did nothing except robotically flog the blistering bare behind until after 50 swats he put down the belt. 10 spanks with Dad's hand followed, then FINALLY it was over. Wracked with sobs, bottom ablaze, crimson, purple and pink welts and wheals everywhere. Dad stopped, wiping tears from his own eyes. He stooped, kissed Joel on the small of his back, and ran his fingers through his hair for a few minutes as his son sobbed and cried. Then he simply stood, stated to Joel he loved him, and bade him good night.
For a long time Joel lay on the bed on his tummy. His PJ pants stayed pulled down, his butt too sore to pull them up. Heat radiated off the cheeks and Joel felt it's confusing sensation. He cried himself out, and then, as the pain subsided, jacked off to the warmth he was coming to appreciate more and more, every spanking......