Fiction based on an event today.
Sometimes I wonder why the boys never learn.
How many times have a told Jason, the eleven year old, about walking across a busy road.
I have always been quick to punish the boys and the slipper remains out on top of the boy's dresser in their room to act as a reminder.
Today we were enjoying a pleasant walk, the river on one side of us and the raod on the other. Jason had absolutlely no reason to cross over. Tom, my nine year old, stayed on our side of the road, like Jason he was some distance in front of us.
My wife shouted at Jason, like me she is always angry when either boy does something foolish. Jason stood still, watching me as my wife and I caught up to the point at which he stood.
I told him to stand where he was.
I used my finger to indicate to Tom to come to me. ''Stand still'' I shouted at him and he looked down at my feet. Other walkers passed by.
I stood and looked across the busy road.
I had only slipperd Jason yesterday and now the slim eleven year old must have guessed that he would be getting it again, and within the hour. The boy looked glum but he would not be given any slack by me. I wlaked across the road ''come with me now'' I sid and led him back towards the car.
I beckoned to my wife and she and Tom followed us some distance behind. My wife would have been explaining to Tom the reason for my anger and warning him to be careful of me for the rest of the day, I presumed. In any case my anger was directed to Jason who wlaked along just a little behind me.
I tried to recall my own childhood, that period of fear, that point where punishment is inevitable but not yet received.
When we arrived home I sent Jason to his room. He would begin to undress to his underpants and wait quietly for me to arrive.
I spent some time with having a cup of tea and then walked upstairs to Jasons room. He did look depressed and nervous. I quite like that look. A boy facing the inevitable but hoping against hope for a reprieve.
I sta on the edge of the boy's bed and told him to bring me my slipper.
The nexy minute he was across my knee. Upper body on his bed, legs straight and feet on the carpet.
I reached inside his underpants and slowly pulled them down, over the soft white bottom that awaited my slippering.
Jasons bottom is nice and round. His cleft is deep and his buttocks bounce nicely as each whack of the slipper is forcefully delivered. As you know I always focus on the right buttock, giving it a thorough stinging before I stop to gently rub it better.
After about ten whacks Jason howled as usual. His bottom was red and clearly sore after about five minutes. I let him lie there sobbing while I rubbed.
I hoped his bottom would be white again ready for school the next day.
The end