I stood in the boys room watching them playing in the yard. It was a fine day. The ball flew over into the neighbours yard.
I stepped back from the window. They would be scanning the house now.
After a few minutes I returned to my viewing point and there he was, Jason, my eleven year old at the time, in his beige shorts hanging over the fence halfway in our yard and halfway in the next. That bottom of his was in a perfect position. He knew the penalty for climbing onto the fence.
I knocked on the window. He looked up. Caught!!!!
I beckoned him in and went to my room to fetch the spanking stick.
We met at the top of the stairs. He looked at the florr.
No excuses, no explanations.
I pointed inot his room and followed him in.
I sat on the edge of his bed and he came across to me.
'I'm sorry daddy'' he said.
I said nothing but pulled the slim youngster closer to me and lifted his teeshirt out of his pants and over his head.
I undid his pants and let them fall to the floor.
Next I positioned him over my left leg and held my right leg next to the top of the boys thighs so that I had him in position.
I admired the shape of the boy's bottom snuggly fitting in his soft white cotton underpants. Holding the waistband I slid them down slowly, taking my time, and enjoying the sight as the two lilly-white unblemished and perfectly smooth buttocks were exposed.
I placed the spanking stick on the botty-flesh and the little botty flinched with the anticipation of the pain that my son knew would soon arrive.
The first hard whack brought the usual line of red pain to the bottom and the cry of pain from Jason. I whacked away with a slow and methodical rythm. Soon the bottom skin was redder and the boy was bucking on my lap.