Its a beautiful day. Of course, the first day of summer vacation could bring a tsunami for all I care, its still better than another snooze-fest at school. Im actually a pretty good student - my parents are proud of my grades and accomplishments, I enjoy extracurricular activities, and I get along well with my teachers. But really, after almost 10 months, Im ready for a nice long break.
One of my favorite activities is riding around town on my bike. Thats what Im doing now, with my best friend, Ricky. Actually, we share the same name, though I usually go by Richard so as to avoid confusion. I just turned 12 years old a couple weeks ago, which is only about a month after Ricky reached the same age. Of course, he holds that one-month seniority over my head whenever he gets the chance.
Were headed to a little swimming hole just past the outskirts of town. We go there every summer. Its pretty warm today, even for late June, so Im looking forward to splashing around in the crisp, clear water. I dont mind the ride, which is just over three miles from our street, but Ricky suggests that we take a shortcut through Mr. Aikens farm. I dont really care for the idea - Mr. Aiken is a retired schoolteacher with a reputation for being a crusty old codger (at least among us kids). He doesnt like anyone trespassing on his property - we know that from experience.
Anyway, as usual, I go along with what Ricky wants, but I hope that old man Aiken is in taking a nap or something. We turn into one of his fields which, after crossing, leads to a wooded area where we can follow a stream to our swimming hole. Of course, Mr. Aiken is not inside today, but comes around the rear corner of his farmhouse just as we make it halfway through the field.
Ive told you kids to keep out of here! he yells, while running toward us. I follow Ricky as he speeds for the woods while veering suddenly away from the angry mans path. Unfortunately, our new course brought us right through Aikens vegetable garden! Various stalks and plants gave way to our studded wheels as we churned forward. Mr. Aiken is screaming obscenities behind us, but gives up the chase as we pass the first row of trees.
By the time we reach the swimming hole, Ricky is grinning sheepishly, as if our little detour had been a mere accident. He seems to forget about it quickly, however, as he strips his clothes and leaps, naked, into the water.
I feel pretty bad about the whole thing. One of my chores at home is to help mom with our own garden, so I know how much time and work goes into the effort. I also know that we destroyed a good many plants on our trek to the woods. With a sigh, I took off my own clothes and joined Ricky for a swim.
An hour or so of splashing around with my friend did wonders for my conscience, but as we were sunning our bare bodies on the embankment, guilt began to creep up on me again. I finally told Ricky that I was ashamed of the damage we had caused, and I thought we should go to Mr. Aiken and apologize. He, in turn, thought I was completely nuts. But, while we dressed, I decided that I would indeed return, even if I did it alone. Ricky said, good luck, and took off for home.
I pedaled slowly toward Mr. Aikens house, and wondered all the way if this was such a great idea. But I knew that I wouldnt get any peace of mind until I offered to make things right. Perhaps he would accept my help in restoring his garden.
I left my bike at the end of his dirt-covered driveway, then walked up the the front door with trepidation. I knocked meekly on the door, then heard footsteps approaching on the other side. He swung open the door quickly, then his eyes grew wide as he realized who had come to pay a visit.
I took a deep breath. Mr. Aiken, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what my friend and I did earlier today. I feel really bad for ruining your garden, and I want to make it right.
He looked at me intently, then said So, wheres the other one? Dont suppose hes out back right now, doin more damage, huh?
No sir, I said. He, uh, had to be home by 4:00 because his family is going out to eat tonight. But Im willing to accept responsibility for what we did.
Hmph the old man replied. Responsibility is not what boys your age are known for. You realize that in my day, Id have had a lot more to deal with than helping repair a garden if I were in your shoes. My daddy wouldve given me a good spankin on the bare bottom, just to make sure that the lessen taught was a lessen learned. You kids today get out of everything, which is why you cause so much trouble.
Well, the back of my neck and my ears began to turn a bit pink, because I didnt think it fair to have to address the trouble caused by everyone in my generation. Besides, I rarely got into trouble at school, and home, and I felt that I was indeed fairly responsible. After all, I was here, wasnt I?
So, as we continued to stare at each other, he finally said, Well, boy, you really here to accept responsibility for yourself, or what?
I thought that had been made clear. Yes, sir I replied, but no longer sure that was what I really wanted to do.
Well, come on in then, and lets get to it.
I stepped into his house, which was simple but clean, and he led me into the living room.
Like I told ya, boy, my daddy wouldve tanned my hide good for doin what you did. If youre really a man of your word, youll agree to the same punishment.
My head spun. Was he serious? Not only did I stay out of trouble for the most part, but Id never been spanked before in my life. But what could I say? I wasnt willing to go back on my word. Yes, sir I admitted, Im very sorry for what I did, and I deserve to be punished for it.
He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, as if to confirm that I was indeed serious, then asked, You ever had a spanking before, boy?
No, sir.
And how old are you?
Twelve, sir.
Hmph. How a boy can live to be twelve without proper trainin is beyond me. OK, then, its time we give you whats long overdue.
I resigned myself to my impending fate, then allowed him to lead me to a chair on the other side of the room. He sat down, stood me in front of him, and with surprising gentleness, grasped the waistband of my shorts and pulled them to the floor. Not realizing that this was part of the agenda, I blushed deeply as I stood before him in my white t-shirt and Fruit of the Loom briefs. He then took the waistband of my underwear, and pulled them down as well. I quickly folded my hands in front of my little circumcised penis - I never felt so embarrassed. He smiled a little at this, then said, Thats not the area you need to be worried about, son.
He grasped my waist, and guided me over his lap. I was positioned so that my tender bottom was right in the middle, with my penis and balls tucked in between his legs. He was old, yes, but certainly not frail. His left hand pulled my t-shirt up a bit, then held my bare back firmly in place. He placed his right hand gently upon my buttocks for a brief moment, then. . .
SMACK! The first blow came down with a force I was not expecting. It made a slight echo in the room, and I bucked at the stinging pain that suddenly consumed my rear end.
SMACK! came the second, then in steady succession, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Id never felt pain like this before in my life. My eyes were streaming tears, and my cries were all I could hear in the house, other than the SMACK! sound constantly emitting from between his hand and my sore bottom.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
He continued on for what seemed like forever, never missing a beat, raining down blows on my buttocks. Right, left, center, top, bottom, middle - he left no area untouched. I cried and cried, and begged for him to stop. I swore to never bother him again, but the spanking continued, on and on.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Finally, I had no voice left to scream and yell, but could only lay there on his lap, sobbing softly. I was a broken boy, and I didnt even notice immediately when he stopped spanking me.
Mr. Aiken just held me onto his lap for a long time, until my crying stopped, and my breathing became more regular. He stood me up, and I no longer felt any embarrassment over my state of undress. I just stood there miserably as he retrieved my underwear and shorts, which had been kicked off long ago, then gently helped me back into them.
He opened his arms, and I threw myself into them, and the comfort they offered. He told me that I was indeed a good and brave boy, for accepting responsibility for my actions. I told him that I would still come to replant his garden, and that I would also help with other chores as well.
He said Ya better - or else next time Ill introduce your behind to my old school paddle. I got a lot of use out of it what I was a teacher, and that includes one year that your dad was in my class! He learned a few lessons from it as well, he did.
Mr. Aiken and I became good friends that summer, as I spent many days there helping out around the farm. I got Ricky to join me as well, and the three of us have had a grand old time. Well, for the most part. We are, after all, active boys, and we have both earned a few well-deserved spankings along the way. But at least we know that once the lesson is taught, and the lesson is learned, that life can go on without guilt. And life is good.