A Spanking Family Tree 1978


by Tone

You many want to read Spanking Family Tree 2001 first, though this is not really a sequel.

"Hey Grandpa!" Tim said, as he opened the door to see his grandfather standing there. Tim's Grandpa had come over to "visit" Tim this evening because Tim's parents were out of town. Due too Tim's recent behavior, his parents were not willing to leave him alone at the house, so John's dad Eric was coming over to stay with his grandson.

Eric folded his grandson into a hug. "Glad to see you Tim. I rented a movie for us to watch after dinner. Your dad said he left money for pizza?"

After the pizza had arrived, Eric and Tim sat at the table, eating and talking. Eric asked how school was going, and all the other things grandparents always aske their grandkids. Eventually, the topic drifted to Tim's run-in with the police, and his subsequent run-in with his father's hairbrush. "So, I heard your father whacked your fanny pretty good, hmmm?"

Tim turned red, but said "Yeah--I didn't think anything could hurt that bad. My butt was red for two days!"

"Well, I'm glad he made an impression on you. A sore fanny is nothing compared to getting into serious trouble with the law. I hear any more about nonsense like that and I'll spank you myself!"

Tim turned even redder, but said "Speaking of spankings Grandpa, my dad told me he got a pretty good one from you when he was a senior in high school."

Chuckling, Eric replied, "So your father told you about that, did he? I'm surprised he would even want to remember that episode. His behind was red for a lot longer than two days!"

"Well, come on, Grandpa, tell me what happened!"

"Ok, Ok. It happened on a Sunday morning when I got back home earlier than your dad expected...."

As Eric Sterling turned the car into the driveway, he knew something was amiss. There was a pizza box on the roof, several cans scattered through the lawn, and the front door was ajar. Not to mention the fact that there was a car parked on the lawn, as well as one in the driveway.

He hurriedly parked the car and rushed up to the house. As he entered the house, he was met with a shocking scene. There was trash all over the entry room, including empty beer bottles and cans. In the living room there were several people sprawled out on the chairs and couches, sleeping. Walking quietly through the house, Eric found everything is disarray. As he entered the kitchen, he found what he was looking for. Standing at the sink, looking out the window, was his son John. He was wearing nothing but a pair of thin shorts, and his long hair was tangled.

AHH-HMM!! Eric loudly cleared his throat. John jumped, turning around. "_s_h_i_t_ man, you scared....DAD!!"

"Indeed."

"But dad, what are you doing here? I thought..."

"You thought I wouldn't be home til tonight? You thought you could have a party and I wouldn't find out about it. Is that what you thought? I thought you might pull a stunt like this; that's why I told you I would be home late when I planned on getting here this morning the whole time. Sometimes it takes a lie to catch a liar."

"Well...uhh....Hey, don't worry dad. I'll get it all cleaned up. You won't even have to help."

"Yes, you will clean up. For a start. Why don't you start by getting all these people out of here. I'll wait for you upstairs."

"Umm, dad, could you wait here?"

"Why?"

"I think you should just wait here" John replied with a look of desperation.

"There's someone in my bedroom, isn't there? Some of your loser pothead friends crashed in MY BEDROOM! Hell, you probably turned my bedroom into a love nest for the night!" Eric was yelling now.

"DAD! Stop yelling. I'll clear everyone out. Just wait here." John left the room; Eric could hear his son throughout the house, waking his friends and asking them to leave. A chorus of "Awesome party, dude!" and "Sweet bash man" echoed from the front door. About 10 minutes later, John returned.

"Ok. They're all gone. Dad, I'm sorry. Things got a little out of hand, but I'll get it all picked up. There's nothing broken or anything."

Attempting to calm himself, Eric looked at his son. At 17, and a senior in high school, her was really turning into a man. Right now though, looking at his dad through bleary brown eyes, he looked like nothing more than a misbehaving puppy. Eric got up, went to a drawer near the sink, and pulled out a large wooden soup spoon. He returned to his seat, and tapped the spoon on his knee. "Well, son, you said you would clean things up. Start here with the kitchen!"

John looked at his dad, doing his best not to stare at the spoon. Thoughts were racing through his head; surely his dad didn't intend to paddle him with the spoon. He was a senior, and 17. His dad hadn't punished him physically since middle school. Tearing his eyes away from the spoon, John retrieved a trashbad from under the sink and began filling it with empty soda cans, beer can, snack bags, pizza boxes and other various items. After that, he loaded all the dirty cups and bowls into the sink. As he went to get a mop and bucket to clean a beer puddle and an unidentifiable sticky mess from the floor, his glance returned to the spoon.

"Dad, why did you get that out?" His father looked at him, saying nothing. "Dad, come on. You're not going to doing anything crazy are you?" His father still said nothing. Turning away, his thoughts racing even faster now, her retrieved the mop and bucket, filled it and cleaned the floor. Surely his dad wasn't going to use the spoong. God, what if he did? Would it hurt? No, he was a lot bigger now than at 12 or 13; it wouldn't really hurt but it would be embarrassing.

20 minutes later, John finished cleaning the kitchen. Putting away all the supplies, he returned to where his dad was sitting near the table and said "Ok, I'm done here; I'll move to the living room next."

He had almost reached the door when he heard his dad say, "Come here." John crossed to his dad, looking at him questioningly, hoping not to hear what he dreaded.

"John, I am horribly disappointed. You acted with no sign of thought. You were totally irresponsible. I should be able to leave my 17-year-old son for a few days and not return to THIS. I've considered a number of things as punishment, but came to the conclusion that only one thing will get across the message. I'm going to use this spoon, among other things, across your backside."

"Dad, no way!"

"Shut UP! This is my turn to talk and by God you're going to listen to me! You are going to clean each room of this house today. I am going to sit and watch you in each room. Then, after each room is cleaned, I am going to spank you. Each and every room that this, this, MADHOUSE took place in is going to earn you a blistering. Including the lawn, though if you cooperate otherwise I may be convinced to give you the spanking for that inside the house. Argue with me once, resist once, and I will put on a show for the whole neighborhood! Now, I want you to remove you shorts, and lay across my lap."

John hesitated only for a second. It was obvious his father was serious; all he could do now was try to keep his humiliation as private as possible. He dropped his shorts to the floor and stepped out of them, leaving himself dressed only in white briefs. His dad picked them up and tossed them aside. John leaned in towards his father, and Eric pulled him across his lap.

Immediately, the spanking began. CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! John twitched from the pain, and kicked a little, but managed to keep from crying out at first. CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! On and on the spanking went, and John began to cry out in pain, begging for the spanking to stop. CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! Finally, just as John felt himself getting close to tears, his father stopped and told him to get up.

Standing there, humiliated, with wet eyes and a burning behind, John reached for his shorts. "No, don't bother with those. They'll just get in the way. You can have them back when we go to clean the lawn. You're not hiding anything I haven't seen countless times anyway."

After gaping for a moment in disbelief, John took some more trashbags and headed into the living room. He picked up trash from all over the room, including several items of discarded clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched his father walk around the room, no doubt looking for his next implement of choice. Eventually though, his father just took a seat on the newly cleaned couch. Hope sprang into John; maybe his dad had reconsidered his crazy idea. No such luck though; when he was finished, his father pulled him back across his lap.

"Well, son, I couldn't really find anything I wanted to use in here; I guess I'll just use my hand." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The spanking only lasted for a couple minutes, but on top of the spoon-spanking it really stung! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! John managed not to cry out, but felt a tear trickle down his face. God, if he was crying now, what would happen later. He tried to add up all the rooms in the house. How many more times was this going to happen?

After the living room came the basement, which had been converted to a sort of rec room. John knew what was going to happen down there. His father had a fraternity paddle hanging on the wall from his college days. After cleaning up, John was told to brace himself by putting his hands on either side of the TV.

"I'm going to give you 10 with this John", Eric stated.

WHACK! The first swat made John groan with pain.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! These swats hurt so much he could hardly hold himself up. He WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Tears were rolling down his face, and he was gasping and sobbing from the pain.

WHAAAAAACCK!!! The ninth shot came harder than all the others. "AAAAAAAAAGGGH!" John screamed. WWWWWHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKK!! John screamed again, jumping up and rubbing his butt, bawling at the top of his lungs.

"Da..da...dad! Please, no more. I can't take any more. Please. PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE!" Eric hugged his son, allowing him to sob into his chest.

When he calmed down, Eric looked him in the eyes and said "You have to pay for what you did son. I know this is painful, and I mean for it to be. You WILL receive more spankings until we are done. Now let's go clean the bathrooms; I'll be kind enough to count the two together as one."

Other than cleaning some suspicious puddles on the floor and wiping puke off the side of the toilets, the bathrooms didn't take long. John was still whimpering occasionally when his dad took him across his knees yet again, this time for a haibrushing. SPLAT!! "WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" Eric began sobbing again as soon s the brush touched his tortured behind. His father only swatted him 10 times, but it was enought to send him into hysterical sobbing again. SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! John fell off his father's lap and lay on thw floor, sobbing and gasping and shaking. Eric saw that his son really couldn't take much more.

"Come on son." He helped him up, guiding him to Eric's bedroom, where Eric planned to discuss his son's behavior and tell him that the spanking was over. When they got in the room, however, he changed his mind again. There were several used condoms throughout the room, and one on the bed. His son really had let his friends use his bed to have _s_e_x_!

Sitting John next to him on the bed, Eric spoke to him. "Son, I was going to end your spanking now. However, because of the state of this room, I am going to give you one last reminder. I am disgusted that you even thought of letting people fornicate in my bedroom! On my bed!" Pulling a plastic paddle from under the bed where he had placed it years ago, Eric told John to remove his underwear and lie facedown on the bed.

WHACK! Eric watched his son twitch as he struck him.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Eric could barely continue, hearing his son cry out in agony, but he was determined to make this an unforgettable lesson. WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Not stopping until he reached 50, Eric turned his 17-year-old son into a sobbing, pleading, repentant little boy. He then left his son to cry it out on the bed, telling him to finish the cleaning whenever he could.

"...Needless to say, that was the last time he pulled a stunt like that!" Eric chuckled.

Tim stared at him wide-eyed. "Wow! You spanked Dad 5 times? Remind me never to misbehave when you're around Grandpa!"

"Well, a spanking never hurt anyone, well not in the LONG run anyway. They certainly hurt while they were happening, that's for sure!"

"Did you ever get spanked Grandpa?"

"Of course, I did. My father wanted to make sure I grew up right, just like your father wants you to! But we'll save that story for later. Let's go watch the movie!"


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