Alistairs Dad continued smacking his sons bottom. Alistairs shorts were lying on the floor, long since kicked off and his underpants were at mid thigh having been tugged down far enough to expose his bare bottom. As the spanking continued Alistair clutched at his Dad's left ankle in a vain attempt to mitigate the pain. After a final half dozen hefty slaps Alistair was raised to a standing position. Crying, the boy resisted the impulse to rub at his bottom, Dad never allowed that! His Father stood and firmly gripping his sons upper arm he guided him across to the corner of the room. Positioning Alistair so that he was facing the wall he instructed the boy to place his hands on his head. His Dad then swiftly pulled up the boys underpants and warned Alistair to 'stay there'. He then left the room and went into the kitchen.
Alistairs Mum was pouring boiling water into the teapot as her husband entered and leaned against the dresser.
"I must get a slipper or something for that boy!.........my hand is stinging!"
His wife placed the teapot on the table and turned to her husband, she took his right hand and inspected the palm.
"If it bothers you that much, do it.......poor dear, does it hurt?......let me kiss it better!"
Mockingly she gave it a kiss. Her husband grinned but neither of them gave a thought to the sensation young Alistair was experiencing in his backside. The following Saturday Alistairs Dad attended the local Scouts jumble sale where he hoped to find what he was looking for. As he entered the Church hall he half hoped that might find an old cane for sale! Fortunately for Alistair, such an item was not available, but his Dad did spot an old pair of gym shoes on an unattended stall along with other junk. Inspecting them he decided they were exactly what he was looking for. They were old, the rubber soles worn, the laces missing and indeed the left one had a small hole in the canvas upper part and was splitting away from the sole.
At that moment the elderly Vicar approached the stall.
"How much are these Vicar?"
The Vicar glanced at the plimsols and then at the young man holding them, he seemed far too well dressed to be interested in such disreputable looking items!
"Good Heavens! what on earth are they doing on display?.....they should have been placed in the dustbin.......surely you are joking Sir?"
"Not at all, they're not for wearing but I do need one for my boy!"
The Vicar nodded, understanding at once the intended use for the plimsols.
"PLease help yourself, they were going to be discarded anyway"
Alistairs Dad produced a shilling from his pocket.
"Will this do, after all it is for a good cause"
The Vicar gratefully accepted the coin. He smiled, visualising this young man thrashing his son. Alistairs Dad stuffed the right plimsol into his jacket pocket, holding out the other one he said,
"Would you be kind enough to dispose of this Vicar, I only need the one"
As he walked home, pleased with his purchase, he recalled his own boyhood and the numerous slipperings and later, canings he had endured both at school and at the hands of his step Father. Time had dimmed the memory of the actual pain, but he could well remember the dread he had felt on each occasion. Smiling to himself he hoped that he would have the opportunity to whack Alistair before too long.
As it transpired he was thwarted in his eagerness to give his first slippering. Alistair was perfectly behaved for several days and so the plimsol reposed in the sideboard drawer in the dining room. However, inevitably, Alsiatir 'lapsed'. On the Friday morning at the breakfast table in the kitchen Alistair grumbled when his Mother placed a bowl of cereal in front of him.
"Muuuummm I don't like these!" he whined.
His Dad who was reading his newspaper and munching on toast and marmite listened, sensing that his opportunity might very well have arrived!
"Don't be silly Alistair!......you'll like them dear, now eat up or you'll be late for school" responded his Mum.
Alistair them made his great mistake. With a sulky expression he shoved the bowl away from himself, unfortunately, he pushed too hard and the bowl slid across the table, causing the milk and ceareal to slop over the rim. A stream of milk dribbled off of the table onto his Dad's thigh.
Without a word he folded his newspaper and placed it on the table, then standing up he walked around to Alistair and took a firm grip on the boys upper arm. Hoisting his son out of the chair he led him into the dining room.
"Dad, Im sorry!.......it was an accident"
"It WAS NOT an accident, it was pure naughtiness, and you know what happens to naughty boys!"
Alistair did know. He had been going across his Dad's broad thighs for a smacked backside for as long as he could remember. He was well aware of the sensation of a large hand applied to his young bottom. However, to Alistairs surprise, instead of his Dad turning a chair and sitting down ready to take his son across his lap, he opened a drawer and produced the plimsol. Alistair paled, he guessed at once what the slipper was for, he had seen lots of boys at school get 'the slipper' though he had so far managed to escape such attentions himself.
His Dad, gripping the gym shoe in his right hand, guided Alistair into the space at the end of the table.
"Bend over Alistair!"
Alistair was surprised. He always went across his Dad's knees for a spanking. He realised this was going to be like at school. Miserably he stood in the middle of the space and bent forwards.
"Right down!.....touch your toes!"
Alistair obeyed, his finger tips just brushing his shoes. His young bottom was thrust out. the short school trousers stretched tight as a skin across his buttocks. His Father viewed his bending son with some excitement. He was about to raise the plimsol when he remembered how his step Father had always made him pull his shirt out at the back.
"Stand up Alistair, then pull out your shirt at the back!"
The boy obeyed, this too he had seen at school.
"Back down........and stay down until I tell you to get up.....is that clear!"
Alistair touched his toes again. He turned his head and got an upside down view of his Dad's legs.
'THWACK!'
The first stroke landed and the dull thwack of the rubber sole making contact with his bottom sounded loudly throughout the room.
Alistair yellped. His Dad's hand had always hurt badly enough, but this new sensation was a hundred times worse! He couldn't help leaping up and clutching at his bottom. Tears already formed in his eyes.
"GET BACK DOWN!"
Alistair bent, his mind racing........he knew he could never stay bending over if each whack hurt as much! Alistair yelled even more loudly as the second stroke made its mark.
'THWACK!'
"Daaaaddddd......please Dad.......it hurts!!!!!!"
Gripping at his ankles the boy managed to remain bending.
"It"
'THWACK!'
"Is"
'THWACK!
"supposed"
'THWACK!'
"to"
'THWACK!'
The final stroke was applied with even greater vigour and the pain was almost unendureable. Alistair cried out loudly, bending his legs and bouncing up and down.
"Very well, get up!"
Alistair stood quickly and hopped form foot to foot.
"There......I hope that's taught you a lesson young man!"
Alistair was crying and still jumping about. Even though it was forbidden he vigorously rubbed at his burning, throbbing buttocks.
"In future I shall slipper you when you misbehave........now go and put the slipper on the hall stand!"
Miserably Alistair took the hated gym shoe from his Dad and took it into the hall. He placed it on the oak hall stand where it was to remain for many years, removed frequently for its application to his bottom.
In the kitchen, standing up, Alistair ate the remaining cereal.
"There dear, I knew you would like it!" said his Mum.
In the dining room, his Dad was happily reliving the last few minutes in his mind. He had greatly enjoyed slippering his son and was looking forward to the next 'encounter'.........he decided he would give it a few weeks before he 'advanced' Alistair to 'trousers down' slipperings. The thought of the plimsol landing on crisp white underpants was very pleasing and he found it necessary to visit the bathroom before he could return to the kitchen.................!