"Why don'tcha ask Anne to come party wit' us tonight?" Tommy asked his Devon. "I'm bringin' Christie."
Devon looked over at his twin brother and shook his head before flicking his cigarette to the ground, squishing it beneath his feet. He shook his head, allowing his short blond hair to wave a little in the wind before smiling and rolling his blue eyes. "No way in hell."
"How come?" Tommy asked as he stood straight from his leaniing position and brushed the bark off his shoulder. Ever since they were thirteen, Devon and Tommy would sneak off in the afternoon and go to the park. There were woods behind the park area that blocked anyone from seeing them as they had a smoke. It had been four years now, and they continued to do it almost every day.
"Anne's a slut," Devon told him before rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and grabbing his keys. "Let's head home before Dad see's we're gone. You know he turns into 'The Bear' when we disobey." Both boys stood at about 6'2" with light blond hair, blue eyes and a muscular build. Their father had taught them the importance of keeping up with strength since they were in grade school.
"Where have you two been?" Derrick called to his sons when he heard the front door open. The boys stopped in their tracks and turned to the living room entrance where their father normally sat to have a drink on Saturday afternoons. Devon motioned for Tommy to follow him and they both entered the room. Their father sat on his over-stuffed black leather couch with his young slave, Tabitha kneeling beside him. She had dark hair and eyes, and wore very little clothing, while Derrick looked like an older version of his boys. "Where have you been?"
"We were uh..." Devon started, looking to Tommy for an answer. Tommy racked his brain trying to think of something their father would believe but nothing came to mind.
"You were what?" Derrick asked, reaching down and rubbing his slave's head gently. She quietly purred and reached up, slightly touching the collar around her neck with pride. Devon shook his head and laughed to himself.
"We were just looking at one of the dealerships," Tommy blurted, happy he could think of an answer.
"Oh? Which one?" Derrick asked, eyeing both his sons suspiciously. They both shrugged, having never been good at lying. "I thought so. Now, where were you two?" As he stood up, the boys noticed their father still seemed to tower over him with the look of intense power and strength. His eyes were always a stone blue, that could flicker to the look of ice whenever angered.
"We were at the park," Devon told him, lowering his eyes so his father wouldn't ask why. Derrick neared his boys and inhaled deeply through his nose.
"Why do you two smell like tobacco?" he asked them. Both boys shrugged. "Don't lie. Why the hell do you two smell like tobacco?!" he repeated, moving closer to them.
"We were around someone who had a cigarette," Devon lied, looking into his eyes.
"Bull _s_h_i_t_!" Derrick shouted, raising his hand and smacking Devon across the face. Devon moved back but refused to rub the pain from his cheek. Allowing his eyes to water, he tried to hold the tears from escaping his lids. "NOW, why the HELL do you two smell like tobacco?!"
"We had a cigarette," Tommy whispered, defeated. He lowered his head in fear. "I'm sorry, Sir."
"Oh, you will be!" Derrick shouted at them before walking back to his couch.
"How long are we grounded?" Devon asked, hoping that's all it would be. Derrick's expression showed Devon he was wrong. Without getting told a word, both boys turned and went to their separate corners in the living room and faced them, hands to their sides.
Derrick was raised in a strong, strict family where his father always tried to raise them with a firm hand. He was the eldest triplet, and the strongest of his brothers. Being the chief of police, Derrick was ranked higher than his brothers and father in the force and never missed a chance to show off his power.
Looking back and forth from each boy, Derrick realized how much he had let them get out of hand. They were now members of a local gang, they wore baggy enough clothes to fit three of them in, and they showed little or no respect to anything except his belt.
After about thirty minutes, but what seemed like three hours to the boys, Derrick cleared his throat and stood up. He motioned for Tabitha to move to kneeling beside his chair that matched the couch, and he reached out and pulled the couch from the wall.
Out of both boys, Tommy had the smallest pain thresh hold, so Derrick normally preferred him to go first. He wasn't hit as many times or as hard (or often) as Devon because he wasn't as bad a kid.
"Tom!" Derrick shouted, startling both boys. Tommy turned around and faced his father, nearing the spot directly in front of him.
"Sir?" he asked.
"For smoking and lying, you and your brother will both be whipped. Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Derrick asked him. Tommy nodded his head. "Which is?"
"Can't I just be grounded a month instead?" he pleaded. He was answered immediately as Derrick grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him over the back of the couch.
"Stay bent over with your bum in the air. Arch your back and keep your legs spread at all times!" Derrick shouted, knowing Tommy wasn't as used to the punishment position as his younger (by 5 minutes) brother.
"Dad! Please! Please don't!" Tommy pleaded as Derrick reached down and took his belt off. The belt was thick and heavy and made of a light brown leather. It was the very belt his father had used on him. Bringing his hand up, Derrick swung the belt down with a medium force... SWISH CRACK! "Owwwww!" Tommy howled.
SWISHH... CRACK!
"Dad, please stop!" SWISHH... CRACK!! "owwwwww" SWISHH... CRACK!! "Please, Dad?" Tears began to pour from Tommy's eyes. He moved his legs together and tried to stand up, but Derrick's left hand was pressed firmly on his back.
"Tom, spread your legs," Derrick ordered. Tommy shook his head and continued to cry. "Tom! Spread those _f_u_c_k_ing legs!" SWISHH... CRACK!! SWISHH... CRACK!! SWISHH... CRACK!! Three hard cracks were laid down in Tommy's tender cheeks and he immediately spread his legs afterwards.
"Please, Dad!" Tommy cried as another was laid down. SWISHH... CRACK!! "Owwwww! Daddyyy!" SWISHH... CRACK!! SWISHH... CRACK!! SWISHH... CRACK!!
Derrick stopped and allowed Tommy to cry for a few minutes as he stayed bent over the back of the couch. When the burning began to lessen, Tommy stood up and went back to his corner.
"Devon!" Derrick shouted. Devon immediately spun around and faced his father, so used to getting whipped almost every week. "Do YOU have anything to say in YOUR defense?" he questioned.
"No, Sir," Devon whispered, knowing that it was just a test to see if he would accept his punishment or not. He turned and spread his legs, bending over the couch and reaching to hold on to the underside of the seat cushion. He was completely bent over in this position and he knew it pleased his father.
SWISHH... CRACK!! Devon gasped and clenched his teeth. He knew he must get through this without crying out like his brother. SWISHH... CRAAACK!! Derrick always enjoyed testing Devon's thresh hold to pain during whippings. He found himself raising the belt as high as he could and bringing it down as hard as possible. SWISHH... CRAAAAACK!! Devon clenched his cheeks in anticipation for that one.
"That one doesn't count because you clenched," Derrick told him as he re-did the crack. SWISHH... CRAAAAACK!!
"Ow," Devon whispered as he held his tears in. He pressed his face up against the back of the couch to muffle the noises. SWISHH... CRACK!! SWISHH... CRAACK!! SWISHH... CRAAACK!! "Owww!" Devon yelped with pain. He knew it would be ages before he was ever able to sit down comfortably again.
"Devon, what had I told you last time you were in this position?" Derrick asked his youngest son. Devon's face became an expression of surprise as he hadn't remembered that until now.
"You," Devon took a deep breath and hung his head more in defeat, "said I would get it bare." Derrick was pleased he remembered and he reached back to smack his son with his hand. SMACK SMACK SMACK
"Then, hop to it," Derrick told him, watching as Devon stood up and reached for his belt. He undid it quickly and unsnapped his jeans, pulling them down a little, followed by his boxers. They stayed up around his knees from his legs being spread and he bent over and leaned as far forward as possible again. Derrick noticed his bum was already a bright red, but he wanted it a deep red. Pulling back, he brought the belt down again. SWISHH... CRAAACK!! SWISHH... CRAACK!! SWISHH... CRAAAACK!!
"Owwwww!" Devon cried out, the pain twice as intense on the bare. He yelped as his father purposely made the tip of the belt crack the insides of his cheeks, smacking down hard on his hole. SWISHH... CRACK!! SWISHH... CRAAAACK!! SWISHH... CRAAAAACK!!
"Stand up and go to your corner!" Derrick shouted with anger after he finished. "And keep those pants DOWN!"
Devon immediately obeyed, not wanting an encore and he straightened himself up, grabbed his pants and held them to his legs as he made his way to the corner and stood in it. His pants immediately dropped to his ankles as he stood there, hands on his head so he couldn't rub the pain away... still hiding the tears.
To be continued...