Over the past few months I have posted several stories recollecting various whipping/beatings I got as a teenager. For the time and considering where I grew up, some people would say that my dad was just doing what was best for me, but of course, I did not see it that way! Although I probably deserved most of the whippings I got, some went way over the line and were beatings that would get any parent arrested in today's world! This story is about the last and worst whipping I got from my father. This will be the last of my stories. Writing about my experiences has been good therapy for me and I hope people have gotten something positive from my stories. (I did not intend for these stories to be homoerotic, but to each his own!)
After the whipping my dad had given in my room (he was drunk!) I spent the summer months away from home, working for my uncle. The summer went by fast and I got a big taste of freedom from the "problems" at home. I came home a couple of weeks before the start of my senior year and I soon learned that things had not changed much at home.
A couple of weeks after school started, I got into a major fight during football practice and was hauled off to the head coach's office for a half dozen licks. After a lecture from the coach, I got really pissed and I cussed out the coach! For my efforts, I was officially invited to leave the team! My life in school changed dramatically after my departure from organized sports. All of a sudden I was just another guy. Beside Jerry, a lot of my friends drifted away and stopped hanging around with me. My response was to start hanging out with the "stoner's" or the "undesirable element" as the coaches and teachers used to call them.
Shortly before Christmas break, things really hit the fan. At a Saturday night party/dance I was hanging out with some of my new friends and we got very drunk/stoned and started getting very obnoxious. Out of the crowd, Jerry came up and told me to get out while I still could, because someone had already called the police. No sooner had I started to walk out the side door, than I felt a hand grab my arm. I turned to see a cop standing there. Before I new it, I was hand cuffed and tossed in the back of a police car. Next thing I knew, I sitting in the "drunk tank"! I was almost two hours later that I was allowed to see a visitor! I was Jerry! He had followed the police car to the station and had waited to see me. He said that he had called my house to tell my parent what had happened. I guess I should not have been surprised by what he said next. "My father was not going bail me out, at least not right away" After a few minutes I was taken away again. After a long sleepless night and longer day, I had had lost track of time. I was finally told that I had being bailed out. To my surprise, my mom was waiting for me. It was almost 8:00 pm on Sunday. She did not say much at first but as we drove home she icily told me that she was very disappointed in me. From then on we drove home in silence.
When we got home, I could tell my dad was very pissed! He sitting in the kitchen and soon as I walked in he came up to me started yelling in my face! I stood there and didn't say much. I don't know what he expected but my lack of a reaction really started pissing him off more and more. He finally lost control and started to shove me across the kitchen and started yelling: "You worthless little piece of _s_h_i_t_! I can not believe you are so stupid, that you think you get away with some of your _s_h_i_t_". I just kind of smiled at him and this really pushed over the line because before I realized it, he backhanded me across the face and actually knocked to the floor! He stood there over me yelling at me as I got to my feet. He got in my face again and I then told him to "_f_u_c_k_ off". By this time I was really pissed off myself and I yelled: "What do you expect from the son of an alcoholic! Before I knew it he grabbed me by the front of my shirt and it was then that I chose the wrong word to say: "Like father, Like Son, isn't it dad"! I had never seen him so mad and he slapped me hard across the face again! My lip was already split from the first time he had hit me, so I had a mouth full blood that I spit at him!
Before I knew it he shoved me into the garage! As I staggered to the center of the garage he grabbed the strap and came towards me! I tried to run by him but he grabbed my by the arm and pushed me over his workbench. Before I knew it he was strapping my ass full force and I was fighting him all the way. The more I fought, the harder he whipped me. All he said while whipping me was: "You don't listen to anything I say and you never learn. The only thing that gets your attention is the leather. Well boy you are getting lots of attention tonight"! He stopped just long enough to unbuckle my belt and pulled my pants and briefs down to the floor. I kept on struggling, so he let me go, but before I could react he started whipping me across the back and shoulders. This was too much for me and I started to fall to my knees. By this time I was crying and I guess the fight was gone out me because I fell to the floor and started hollering: "I Sorry, Please Stop"! By then I was struggling to catch my breath and he finally stopped strapping me. He stood over me as I lay on the floor, sobbing on the cold concrete. He didn't say a word at first but he reached down and pulled me to my feet and told me to strip. I stepped out of my pants and took my tee shirt off and he then tossed them aside. He then pulled me to the center of the garage and told me to stay there until he came back. I just shook my head! I stood there naked and shivering. What hurt the worst were welts across my back! After what seemed like hours, but was actually five or ten minutes, my dad came back into the garage and walked over to where he had tossed my clothes. He picked up my pants and pulled my belt out of the loops and walked toward me with "my belt" doubled over in his hand. When I saw him coming toward me I started to cry and begged him not to whip any more. I tried to run toward the door but he grabbed my arm and started whipping me across the ass and legs. After a few licks I was jumping around and hollering: "Please stop, I am sorry, I am sorry"! All he said was: "Not as sorry as you will be when I am done with you"! He kept on whipping me with the belt until I fell to the floor. He kept whipping me until I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He finally stopped and tossed the belt on top of me and walked in the house.
I lay on the floor crying until I composed myself enough to get to my knees. I was finally able to get to my feet and I walked into the house naked, where I saw my mom sitting at the kitchen table with my dad. My dad just said was: "Go to your room. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the night"! I was really disturbed that my mom did not say anything or try to defend me because she had obviously been hearing everything that had happened in the garage. I slowly walked to the bathroom where I was able to see what was left of my ass. I started crying again when in looked in the bathroom mirrors and saw the welts on my back. My ass and the back of my legs looked like looked like raw meat. I took a cool shower and finally made it to my room, where I fell into my bed and cried until I fell asleep. I of course had to sleep on stomach! In the morning, I was stiff and sore from head to toe. I went to the bathroom and in the mirror I could see that my face looked bad! I had a split and swollen lip and bruises on the side of my face. The stripes on my back had developed into long bruises and ass and legs were covered solid with welts, along with a few blood blisters. After a struggle I managed to put on a pair of baggy pant and a lose shirt so I could get to school. I slowly walked into the living room where my mom stopped me. She said: "You can't go to school like this. There will be trouble if people see you like this"! This made me mad and I said: "Well, it didn't seem to bother you last night"! She just glared at me and I walked out to my car and drove to school. At school Jerry was waiting for me as I parked. I slowly got out of the car and he came up and asked: "How bad is it?" I told him to follow me into the nearby locker room where I pulled up my shirt and unbuttoned my pants. He said: "Jesus dude!" As I was about to get my pants pulled up, one of the assistant coaches (coach Tomas) who had always looked after us since we were freshmen came in and saw my back and ass. He came over and asked what had happened and asked who had beaten me! I explained as best as I could and he then walked in to the locker room office and came back with a couple of written permission forms and he told Jerry to take me home. When we got to my house my mom was gone and the house was empty. A couple of hours later someone knocked on the door and Jerry went to answer the door. We were both surprised and scared because a deputy sheriff was at the door. After he came in he told me that coach Tomas had called and suggested that he come to my house. When I explained what had happened and he saw the results of my beating, he started to call and have my father arrested! I begged him not to, because it would just make thing worse. He finally agreed with my request but he asked that I called if anything like this happened again. I got a few more whipping from my dad, but they were pretty mild by comparison.
It took over a week and a half for all the welts and bruises from my beating to fade away. I eventually recovered physically, but my relationships with my father never really recover. I turned 18 shortly before I graduated from high school and as soon as I graduated, I got a job and saved enough money to leave home!