I had not thought about what might happen when Dad discovered that I was part of a successful prank against our Chemistry teacher at school. Mr. Campbell had spent four hours in the local emergency room after four of us high school guys spiked his drink at school to see if it would lighten him up a bit. We had been caught, suspended for three days, forced to do community service, and paddled at home. With Dad in Portugal at the time my step-mother of three years had taken it upon herself to paddle my bare backside with a rather large wooden paddle brought home from school. The original plan was for her to paddle me in my underwear but I had provoked her anger by slipping on an extra pair. Never had I been as embarrassed as having my step-mother, who is also my algebra teacher, see my naked rear end jiggle and turn bright red. I had falsely assumed that my punish- ment would be kept from my Dad since I had so fully cooperated. That was a mistake.
Once Dad learned of my activity from my step-mother several calls were made to the other parents of the students involved. Apparently the other guys had gotten a considerable more amount of punishment than I and Dad certainly wanted to make sure that I got my fair share. Robert was also grounded for a month, Jerry was paddled by his mother and his father, and Lee could not drive his car for a month other than to church. So, Dad decided that I, too, needed more punishment and he even gave me the choice of deciding between being grounded or whipped. I immediately chose the grounding until I realized that it meant cancelling my hunting trip, a date with Susan, and attending the annual community rodeo. So, I changed my mind and told Dad that I would take a paddling if it was going to be the last I heard of this ridiculous event in my life. Dad had not paddled me since I was 11 and I didn't recall it being too severe so I didn't think much about the circumstances that surrounded my previous paddling.
Once we had finished the negotiation session and Dad had sufficiently lectured me on my error in judgement he instructed me to follow him to his room where we would get the matter taken care of. I hurriedly followed him in his room and then bent over grabbing my knees so that he would take the hint that I was ready and he would begin the process. "Not so fast," he said, "you know that I can't whip you with those jeans on, you wouldn't feel a thing." "Besides," he added, "there's no telling how many pairs of underwear you have on." I chuckled and assured Dad that I only had on one pair and that I would certainly be able to feel his belt without any trouble. At this point I asked Dad if I could just take being grounded now instead of the paddling. I'm not too happy with the idea of getting another paddling on skin or even on my underwear which Dad would surely let me keep on. "No," he said, "I think we'll go ahead with the whipping and I'll be right back. Go ahead and remove your pants." I was starting to get that sick feeling again. Where did he go? Moments later he returned with a little piece of wood that I remember having seen in the basement many times. I knew what the plan was now and my butt quivered at the thought. As I stood there in my underwear and t-shirt Dad sat down in his big reading chair and motioned for me to come over. He then placed his knees close together and sat forward in the chair, positioning himself perfectly for spanking a little child that had misbehaved. Only his plan was to spank me, a 17 year old man that had acted like a little child. I was sick with the thought of having to lean across my Dad's lap in this manner. Why did I choose a spanking? Was I totally ignorant now? I just imagined myself on my date with Susan and the sick feeling left for a moment. Then, the horror came again. Dad said "okay drop your underpants and bend across my knees here, son." "But Dad," I pleaded, "I'm too old for this. This is too embarrassing to bend across your knee. This is entirely too embarrassing. I am entirely too old for this and I'd rather just take the grounding. You gave me a choice, remember? I'll just take the grounding and live with my actions, okay?" Dad just stared. He knew the truth was that I didn't want to pull my underwear down. My private parts had not been seen by anyone but my closest friends since puberty and I didn't particularly like the thought of Dad getting such a close view of my penis or butt. I realized that he also had a penis and a butt, and had also been 17 at one time, but that didn't make it easier to just expose myself in front of him. But, when he said "Drop'Em Now" I gave up my thoughts of modesty, lowered my underwear quickly, and proceeded to lean across his knees. I was so embrrassed as Dad watched and got a full frontal view of my large penis and the hair that surrounded it. This was most unpleasant. What was worse was having to stand up again because my penis was being crushed. At this point it was at full erection and I couldn't even look. Dad spread his legs slightly and indicated for me to place my manhood in that area, which I did. Wow, this was embarrassing. Now that I was firmly across his knee I realized that equally embarrassing now was Dad looking directly at my hairy bottom. He probably did not realize that I had developed in this way, but I had and now he knew. My friends and I had shaved my butt once long ago but it just grew back within a few months. Dad wasted no time in delivering a series of swats with this piece of wood transformed into a pain machine. Over and over he applied the wood to my bare backside from top to bottom. Several vollies landed on the upper portion of my legs but most of the blows went directly to the butt. I could feel the redness and knew that Dad was making sure every corner was given the opportunity to become equally red. I cried quietly but couldn't come to terms with screaming out though I sure wanted to do so. Finally, after 25 swats Dad stopped, stared at my hairy, red butt for a few seconds, and then said it was okay to get up. I arose red faced and tearful but no longer erect. I was glad of that. Dad got up and left the room apparently satisfied that his mission had been accomplished. I slowly pulled up my underpants, put my pants back on, and proceeded to the bathroom to get a good view in the mirror. I decided to take a long, hot shower, which I did. After standing there for what seemed like an hour I realized that someone else was in the room urinating. It was my best friend, Lee, who had come by to pick me up for Tuesday night Bible study. "Come on," he said. "We've got to go, why are you taking so long in there you sissy boy." "Okay," I said, "but look at this, Lee" I said as I exited the shower to dry off. "Wow! I have never seen a butt that red. Did your Dad do that to you? Did he make you pull down your pants too? Man, we should have never messed with Mr. Campbell. We goofed bad. I'm sorry about that. Now, let's go, we don't want to miss the choir. You'll just have to stand up tonight. Now get dressed and let's go."