When I was 23, and had graduated from college for about a year and a half, the job market was very tight and slim. So, I was working through a temporary agency, getting work as I could, but the work wasn't steady. I had probably worked about a total of 8 months out of the year and a half since I had been out of school.
My Dad was a plumbing contractor, who made good money, but had no formal education. At 21, I had graduated with an engineering degree, and I was the first one in the family to graduate from college. I guess it kind of went to my head. I was still living home at the time, because I couldn't afford to live elsewhere, since I still hadn't been able to find an engineering position anywhere.
One day over the summer, when I had not been working for several weeks, my father asked me to mow the lawn since I was home that day. Needless to say, I didn't feel like doing it, since it was hot and humid outside, and I had never been really enthusiastic when it came to mowing the lawn, anyway. So, I ignored his request, and just sat around all day.
That evening, my father came home from work a little after 5:30 and found me sprawled out on the couch watching tv. He stopped and looked at me, but didn't speak, just headed upstairs to change clothes. After about 20 minutes, Dad came downstairs again. He walked briskly over to the tv and shut it off. "Hey, I was watching that!" I exclaimed.
Dad asked why I had not mowed the lawn as he had asked me to do. I muttered that it was too hot to do that kind of work, and then I casually tossed off that I would get to it the next day. Dad looked at me somberly and told me he was very disappointed in me. He asked me what else I had done that day, but I simply shrugged my shoulders, and turned back to the remote control, to turn the tv back on. At that point, he barked an order to me, to get up and come with him. I got up off the couch grumpily, sighed aloud with heavy exasperation, and followed him upstairs. He took me to my room. I sat down on the edge of the bed. Dad stood over me and began telling me that he expected me to mow the lawn or do whatever he asked, since I was home, didn't have a job, and could help out with things that needed to be done at home. Again I shrugged it off, and in an irritated tone I said, "Okay, Okay. I'll mow the _d_a_m_n_ lawn in the morning." Dad snapped back his reply: knock off the uppity-attitude, things would have to change -- immediately. He told me that I had to get a full time job, no matter what, no matter how menial. I could not lie around the house hoping and waiting for the career job I wanted. And when I wasn't working, I was to do whatever chores he laid out for the day -- without questions, without delay. I sat there staring at the floor, a slow burn igniting at my Dad's lecturing me and giving me orders like I was a kid. Finally, he paused -- until the silence caught my attention. As I looked up at him, he spoke sternly, staring me straight into my eyes: "I think you need to be taught a lesson that will stick, Ryan, and your attitude needs a major, serious adjustment."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked sarcastically. "It means you're going to get your behind spanked, Ryan."
"Yeah, right!" I said. No response from Dad -- which was a bit unsettling. "Not a chance, Dad," I hastened to add. "I'm an adult, I'm 23, and I'm a college graduate. You can't do that to me anymore," I objected. "I don't care how old or what you are, son," Dad told me. "As long as you live in our house, you must obey our rules and orders, or take the consequences. And if you act like a spoiled brat, you'll be treated -- and punished -- like a spoiled brat, regardless of your age, or anything else." I was shocked. But he was emphatic and categorical. My options were to receive the punishment I deserved and had coming, or pack up my things and leave that night. Not knowing where I would go with no money I began to relent. "Ah, . . . oh, alright, Dad. You're right. I screwed up. I'll do better from now on."
"You'd better, Ryan. But you're still getting your bare bottom spanked with the belt, for your lousy attitude and your refusal to do what you were told."
"But, Dad, . . .ah . . . you can't do that, . . . " I stated to say again. He cut me short, and again said I had my choice. I couldn't believe this was happening. He barked at me again to get going, or he'd add another one on tomorrow, for failing to obey him now. I gasped a frustrated, angry sigh; but I really had no choice. Slowly, I stood up, and removed my t-shirt. Then I began to undo my khaki shorts and nervously lowered them down my legs. He replaced me, sitting on the edge of the bed, as I stood there in front of him, with my shorts at my bare feet. He tapped my legs for me to step out of them. I looked up at him, hoping he would let me out of this. Instead, he spoke: "There's no way you're going to think you can get away with this, young man! You asked for this one, and frankly you're still asking for it! You still haven't learned, and you have sure got it coming. Now, get over here this instant!" My eyes were wide with apprehension, as I remained frozen in place. "NOW!" Dad barked the one-word, one-syllable command. Slowly, I stepped out of my shorts and towards my father. He let me trudge ominously over and stand in front of him. Then, he reached out, grabbed my left arm with his left arm, and spun me around. WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! With rapid fire force he began swatting the seat of my boxers. "Oh, no, Dad! There's no way!" I began my protests. Dad simply tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me closer towards him, almost jerking me off my balance. Then, bending me downward, he pulled me across his lap. "No, no, no way, NOOOOO! Please! You CAN'T SPANK me!" I shouted my objection. "I won't STAND for this! Ah! You can't DO this! Aaah! I'm too OLD for this! Ah! Uh! For cryin-out-loud, Dad! Stop! Aaaaaaa-ooooo! Stop! I'm-too-OLD! Uh! Stop! Aaaaaaa-ooooo-STOP! Aaaaaaa-ooooo-STOP! Aaaaaaaaoooo-OWOWOWW!!" WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! Over and over, he kept thundering his hand down against the thin seat of my boxers. "Listen up, young man. You've had every opportunity to prove yourself to us for over 18 months, and yet you deliberately do the opposite! Well, it's going to stop, right here and now."
"And I'll decide when, and if, to stop spanking you, Ryan. In the meanwhile, you are going to learn that in no way are you too old to have your backside torched with a good, old fashioned, sound spanking. And, don't worry, you won't be standing for anything! You'll be turned over my knees, son, something you've obviously been needing for some years!" As he spoke, Dad had jostled me into position over his knees, with my rearend poised ready, like a target. "But, by the way, you WILL be crying out loud, son -- I promise you that!" Then he resumed pounding the bottom of my boxers. "Uh! Huah! Uh-auh-h-huh! Unnnnnn-uhh! Uhh! Nnnghaaa! Uph! Uh-uh- ummmnnnnphaaa! Aaaaa-uh-HUAAAAaaah! Nnnnnghaa-uh-uh-huangaaa! Uh-uh-uh!" I was suddenly sweating profusely, and breathing heavy, fast gasps. My face and neck were red and strained, my eyes alternately squinted and widened, and my mouth was agape, from the exertion of struggling, shock and pain -- to my behind and my pride. Already I was squirming and bouncing, kicking and flailing, across Dad's lap under the unending barrage of swats. Yikes! My bottom was throbbing and aching as it quickly heated up under this spanking from my father. Quickly the tears and pleading came. "Oh, noooo! OEEEYOW! I'm sorry, Dad! OOOO-ah-OOOO-ah! OWEEEYOWW! Really! OWW-ah-uh! Aughaaa! I'm, Uh! really, really, uh-uh! uah! OO! I'M SORRY! AAAA-OOOAAA-OOOAAAOW! Okokokok! Ah-OWOWOWEEE! I agree! Dad! YOWW! OWOWOWEEE! I'll do what you tell me! Dad! Dad! Aaaaa-OWWW! Ooooo-aaaaaaa! Ooooo! I'm-uh-uh-Aaaa-Sorreeee! Uh-Uh! N-nooaaa! MOOOOR! OOOO-ah! OW! Ah! OW! Ah-uh! OWOW-OOOOOOaaa! P-please! OOOOOaaa-Uh! Uh! Stop! Stop! Stop! OWOWOWOWOOOooooo-ah! Uh! Uh! Huh-uh!" My father paused, and I gasped in a choking breath broken by wailing, thinking as bad as it hurt, and as humiliating as it was, it was over. I began to push myself up. Dad pushed me back down and his arm encircled my bare waist tighter. He reached to grasp my boxers' waistband. Then he yanked them down over my butt and thighs, past my legs to my bare feet. He pulled them over my feet and off, and tossed them aside. I shrieked my protests: "NooooOOOO! You caaaaaaant!!" I lay there, draped naked across my Dad's lap, a 23 year-old, college grad, hanging over his knees like a naughty 8 year old. I felt utterly humiliated. Dad took his belt and quickly tripled it over in his hand. Then he began rapidly and repeatedly to thrash my bare, already bruised bottom with it. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! From shock to frantic hysteria, I began screaming and begging, promising and pleading -- anything to try to get this stopped. I couldn't believe this was happening to me! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAAACK! CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRAACK! CRAAACK! This session was unbelievably long and hard and fast. Dad did not speak as he whipped my bare behind into a burning, fiery, blistered inferno. I collapsed right away into shrieking and sobbing, choking, gasping, and trying to find breath to plead and promise. I bucked and kicked, bumped and bounced, slid and struggled, thrashed and writhed – all the while wailing as the belt bit my butt over and over again. "AIAUGH-AAA-OOOO-AAA-YOWW! NOOO-ah-uh-uh-NOOOO! OOO-AAA- NOOOOaaaaa-Puh-pleeeze! I was wrong! YOWEEEOWW! I KNOW it! Ooooo-I uh-uh! Aughaaa-uhuh-uh-uh! W-was wrong, Dad! PLEASE! DAAAAD! Oooooo-uh! PLEEEEZ! Iwaswrong! Iwaswwrong! Iwaswrong!! AIEEEEYOWW! OOOOO-ah-uh! NOOOOO-ah- MOOOR! Uh-STOP! STOPIT! Uh-You-uh-You've-uhuh! GOTTASTOPSPANKINGME! AAA! OOOOOAA! Uh-uh-aiaugh! Ah-uh-uh-uh-uh! OOOOYAIEEOW-Augh-uh! Uh! P- PLEEEEZE! LEMMEGO! N-NOMOOOOOOOOR! Ah-uh! Uh! Uhhuh-uh! I don't want to STAY here! Ooooo-uh! Pleeeeez! I want to move out! OW! OW! Oooo-uh! Pleeez! Ii can't TAKE anymore! Uh! Uh! STOP! Ooooooo-uh! Augh-uh! Ooooo-uh-uh-ooooooo!"
"You can move out if you want to, Ryan -- if you can -- but only after you've learned this lesson and gotten this spanking! So, you're in for the rest of this ride, son." Dad said and kept right on cranking the strap against my flaming rearend. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAACK! CRAAACK! CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRAACK! CRAAACK! I was desperate beyond thinking or speaking clearly anymore. "Uh-huh-uh-uh! OKOKOKAY! Uh! Dad! Uh-uh! You win-uh-uh! OWOWOWW! Uh-I-uh-uh! It-uh-uh-uh! I-uh-uh! was WRONG!! OWOWOWOWOWWW-Uh! STOP! Aghaa! Ugh-uh-uh-haugh- uh! N-NOW! OOOOOOO-Uh-uh! OWEEEYOWEEYOWWW! Uh-uh-uh! YEEOWWW! OOO-OWOWOWWWW! Uh-uh-uh-ai-ugh-uh! I'm sorry, Dad! OOOOOOO-AAA-uh-uh! OWOWOWWWW!! I'm SORRRRREEEEEE! Aaaaa-uh-uh-augh! YEEEOWWWWW! OOOO-uh! STOP! Uh! STOP! Plee-uh-PLEEEZ! YEEOWEEYOWEEEYOWEEEYOW! I'll-uh-never-uh-uh! NEVER! Uh-OOOAAA-YOWWW! Uh-uh-uh-DOOOO-uh-uh! It-uh- uh-AGAIN! AIEEYOWAUGH-uh-uh! OOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAA! YOWEEE! I-uh-uh! p-promise! OOOO-AAAAA-OOOOOOO! Uh-uh-uh-puh-uh-uh-pleeeeeeeez! Uh-uh-uh! Ugh-uh! OOOOO-AAAA-uh-uh! YAIEEOWWWEEEYOWWW! Please-uh-uh! It-uh-uh- uh! HURRRTZ-uh-uh! Sooooooo-uh! BAAAAD-uh-uh! OOOOOO-uh-OWWW-uhuh! N- NEVER-uh-huhuh-uh! Uh-uh-ahaughah! I P-PROMISSSS! OOOOO-UH-UH-AAAAAH!" The strangling sobs were cascading over each other, as I collapsed into screaming, wailing, sobbing, choking, gasping, and shaking, and I just jumped and bounced with each additional lash of the belt. Somewhere -- from years earlier --, amidst my sobs and gagging gasps, came bursting forth: "I PROMISE! Uh! Dad! Uh-uh-aaaugh! I'll-be-good! Uh! Uh-uh-haugh! I'll-be-good! I'll-be-good! Haugh-uh! I PROMISE!! Uh-uh-ooooAAH! Never again! OOO-AAA-Uh-uh-uh! D-Daddy, PLEEEZ! AIIEEYOWWEEEYOWWW!!! P-PLEEEZ! I'll-be-good! I'll-be-good! I'll-be-good! I'll-be-GOOOOOD! Uh-uh! AIEYOWEEEOWWW! I'll never- uh-uh-NEVER! AAAAA-uh-uh! YEEEOWWW! Uh-uh! Do-it-uh! Again! DADEEE!! DAAA-DEEE! Uh! Please-uh! Ooooooo-AAA-I'LL-Uh-uh-BEEE-AAA-GOOOOD!! OOO- AA-NOOOOO! Uh-uh-No More! PLEASE!! No-uh-uh-NO-uh-uh-MOOOOR! OOOOOO- AAAYOWEEEOWW! OOOAAYOWOWOWEEE! Aiugh-uh-uh-yauch-yauch-uh-uh-uh! OOOOOOO-ah-uh! YOWWW! I-uh-aiyauch-uh-ll-uh-uh-Beeeee-ah-uh! GOOOOD! Uh! Uh! DADDEEEEE! Puh-leeeeze! Uh-Uh-aiugh-uh-uhuh-uh-DADDEEEEE!! I'llbeGOOD! I'llbe GOOD! Uh! I'llbeGOOOOOOOD! Aaah! OOOOO-uh! YEEEOW! Uh! Uh! Uh-uh! Uh-uh-uh! Hauh!! Uh! Ah'llbeGOOOOOOOD! OOOO-ah! Uh! NOOOAaaaaaaa-uh! Uh- uh-uh! Hu-uhuh!" NOOO-uh-uh-uh-YOWWW! Uh-uh-huh-uh! OOOOOO-uh-uh! Huh- haugh-uh! OOOOOOO-uh-uh-AAAAWWWW!! OOO-ah-uh-uh-uh-augh! Huh-uh! Uh!- Uh! OOOOOO-Ummaah! Uh! OW! Ah! OOOOOO-uh! Uh-uh-uh-huh! OOOO-uh! Uh! Haugh-huhuh! Haiaughaa-uah! Uh! Uh! Uh-uh-huh-aughuh!" Finally, I stopped struggling and calling out, and just wailed and howled with sobbing, raking gasps and shrieks of pain, as each new lash of the belt blistered my behind. Dad finally stopped and let me shake and sob hanging over his knees. It seemed as if I would never recover my breathing and be able to stop sobbing and gasping. When it began to subside, Dad reached under my chest and arms and began lifting me up. I doubled over instantly, shaking and choking, faltering to stand on my feet. Dad walked over and picked up my boxers where he had thrown them when he pulled them off my feet and legs. Then, he picked up my khaki shorts, handing them to me. "Put these back on, Ryan, and then get yourself back downstairs for supper. After supper, see what you can do to help your mother. I expect to see you up early every morning, working hard, and helping out around here. Understand me?"
"Uhuh-huh-uh-y-yes, sir, Dad," I gasped. Sitting during supper was agony, and afterwards I helped Mom clean up -- something I hadn't done since high school days. When we were finished, Dad told me to go up to my room and straight to bed for the night. Tomorrow would be another day. I started to resist, but his stern look and my scorched butt told me to obey -- as much as I hated it. The next morning, Dad left me a list of chores he wanted done that day. Believe me, I got them done! That night, he just smiled, and said, "Good for you, Ryan," when he came home and found each of them done. I breathed a sigh of mixed relief and resentment; but I really had no other option, since I couldn't afford to move out on my own. I kept it up, and followed Dad's directions for a couple of weeks, until I got called to fill in for a couple of day's at a county utility office. After that was over, however, the next morning I didn't have any work. I forgot to set my alarm, and at 7:30 a. m., Dad opened my bedroom door and shouted, "Ryan, get up! I've got a list of chores I want done today. You better get going right away!" When I didn't stir, he walked into the room, over to my bed, and pulled the blanket and sheet off of me. "Get up -- Now!" he commanded. "Get the hell out of here and leave me alone," I mumbled a sullen reply. WHAAACK! WHAAACK! WHAAACK! WHAAAACK! WHAAAAAACK! Without hesitation, Dad delivered five solid, resounding spanks to the bottom of my boxers. "HEY! Cut it OUT!" I shouted. "Stop SPANKING me, Dad! I'm a grown man!"
"Listen, Ryan, besides being unbearably irresponsible and immature, you're a mouthy brat as well. You know that was no spanking – just some reminder. But neither your attitude, nor your mouth, sit well with me. And if I have to give you a real spanking, you know you won't be sitting well for quite a while either." I said nothing, but instead reached down and pulled the sheet and blanket back up over my head, settling back down into the pillow. "That's it. You're not only asking for it, but obviously needing it again -– probably overdue again!" Dad announced. He reached down again, grabbed the sheet and blanket, and yanked them down off me curled up into the mattress. Then, he quickly sat down on the side of the bed, reached over and grabbed me as I reached for the blanket and sheet, and hauled me up, off the mattress, dragging me across his lap. With his right hand, my father instantly yanked my boxers down over my buttocks, down my thighs, past my knees to catch at my ankles. With his left arm he grabbed me around the waist, pushing down on my back. I gasped, shouted, and demanded, "WAA-AA-AIT-aah-Nooooooo! AHRRGHHA- NOOOOOO! What are you DOING?!" Dad swiftly juggled me further across his knees, sliding my head, shoulders, and arms down towards the floor, and lifting my bottom up at an angle aimed for spanking. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He began raining swats against the backside of this overturned, 23 year-old, college grad, twisting and bouncing as I tried to get loose, get up, get away. Trying to shield my warming, bare bottom with my right hand, I balanced on my left arm and hand, and lifted my right arm up to cover my heating behind. Like the lightning strike of a snake, Dad grabbed my right arm and pulled it up against my back, just beneath my shoulder blades. He bobbled me on his knees a bit more to elevate my behind, lifting my feet off the floor. Then the pounding resumed. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Whew! Oh-Wow! Oh-ah, man! This was too much! I had already been spanked soundly only a couple of weeks ago, and it was not so long that I had forgotten what the faster, harder spanks on my bare backside would feel like. This was hot, hurting, and stinging! I felt myself moaning and breathing hard – near gasping – as I tried to control my emotions and keep calm. But I couldn't do it. My bottom already seemed to be more sensitive from the spanking Dad had administered to me two weeks earlier -- or maybe it was because of the dread of the punishment in my brain. My rearend was igniting, burning, blazing! I squirmed and wriggled, pushed and bumped under the constant, inferno of my father's spanks. "Ah-uh-Dad! Stopit! OWWCHAAA! Stopit, Dad! OOO-ah STOP! OWOWOWW! P-please STOP!! OOOO-AAA-OWOWOWEEE! N-Nooooo! OOOOO-ah p-please! Uh! AIEEYOWW! Uh–uh-OOOOOO-ah! N-NONONOOOO! Aaaaaaah!" I was kicking and thrusting my legs, bucking and bouncing on Dad's lap, twisting, writhing, and thrashing, trying to escape the relentless spanking. My boxers had flown off my flailing legs. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHAACK! WHAACK! WHAACK! WHAAAACK!! It was clear that Dad meant business! Suddenly, my external resolve collapsed, and I began screaming, begging, pleading, amidst choking gasps and sobs. "Noooo! AIEEYAUGH-uh-uh-p-please! I'll-get-up! I'll-get-up! Aw-uh-uh-uh! OWOWOWWW! Aguh-uh-uh! N-nooooooo-uh-MOOOOR! Uh-uh! P-pleeez! I'll-get-up! I'll-get-up! I'll-get-up! I'll-get-up! OOOOO-uh-NOOOO-uh! Uh-STOP! I'll-be-good! Uh! OWOWOOOO-uh-oooo-ah-YOWW! Uh-uh-umah-YOWWEEE! I'll-be-good! Dadeeee! I'll-be-GOOD! Uh-OOOOO-uh-YEEOWOWOW! AIEYOW-augh-uh-OW-uh! OOOOOO! P-PLEASE! Uh-uh! It's HURT-uh-ING! Uh-uh! OWOW-Uh-OW! Oooo-uh! It's-uh-uh- HURTING! D-Dad! OOOO! IT'S HURRRTING! DAADEE! Uh! DAAAAD-uh-uh! DEEEE! STOP! OOOOO! Haugh-uh! Uhuh-uh! Ooooo-uh-haugh-uh-uh!" WHACK! "Ryan" WHACK! "You" WHACK! "are a spoiled" WHACK! "immature" WHACK! "unreliable" WHACK! "young brat!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "If you" WHACK! "can't" WHACK! "get up" WHACK! "to do" WHACK! "The chores" WHACK! "I assign you" WHACK! "then I guess" WHACK! WHACK! "it's up" WHACK! "to me" WHACK! "to see" WHACKWHACKWHACK! "And that you get" WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! "what you obviously" WHACK! WHACK! "need!" WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! I couldn't speak any longer. My father was raining, pouring incessant spanks down all over my backside and upper thighs. I no longer could find the strength to try to fight or resist, much less plead, beg, or shout. I simply lay hanging over my father's knees, gasping, shaking, shuddering, sobbing, and jolting across his lap each time another spank scorched my fiery bottom. When he finally stopped, Dad pulled me up, off his lap. I stood sobbing, doubled over before my father. Grabbing my neck, Dad marched me out of my bedroom, across and down the hall into the bathroom. 'You have 10 minutes to shower, get yourself dressed and down to the kitchen, young man. I'll be waiting for you." I stepped stiffly into the shower to clean up, vowing to get a job, save some money, move out, and never have to undergo this again. I broke down into more sobs as the water washed over me. I scurried out of the shower, back to my bedroom, and almost jumped in my boxers, a pair of basketball shorts, and a t-shirt. Then, I hobbled woodenly, but quickly, down the stairs to the kitchen. Dad was waiting with a list of tasks that included cleaning out the gutters, and painting all of the house shutters. Although I groaned inwardly, after a quick breakfast eaten standing up, I set out to the jobs and had them done by 4 p. m. that afternoon. At 23 years old, I wasn't going to go through this again -- ever!