AUTHORS NOTE: A lot of guys have asked me about my last spanking at home. What follows is my response to that – true and unembellished – from the best of my recollection. Enjoy (and let me know if you want to hear about some of the other spankings I received over the years).
Why is it that just when a guy in his late teens seems to be feeling really good about himself – just when he thinks that hes ready to be considered an adult and leave childish things behind – just when he begins to believe that his future is in his own hands and that the role of disciplinarian that his parents had played for so long is becoming a dim image in the rearview mirror – that almost without fail life (usually in the form of his DAD!) comes along and boots him in the butt one last time??? Is it because somebody up there has decided that life lessons are best taught during that period when the boy is most vulnerable? Or that before truly entering manhood a boy must pay some type of tribute for the right of passage? Ive thought about this a lot at times, and REALLY thought about it one fateful weekend just two weeks prior to my 18th birthday. I guess Ill never really know the answer – all I know is that the experience can be the changing point in the young mans life. Something that he will remember in vivid detail for the rest of his days on the planet. A memory that, while painful, also somehow evokes a longing for the days when life seemed so much simpler – when there was right and wrong, good and bad, guidelines were set in stone, and the word consequences had a whole different meaning than it does later in life.
It started out innocently enough. I was a freshman in college and had come home for a weekend visit. _d_a_m_n_ it felt good to sleep in my own bed again Friday night! And to sleep in on Saturday morning without the usual sound of a roommate or two either "making love to the porcelain God" following a long night at the local pub or, alternatively, getting up at the crack of dawn for an early morning run. I was feeling really good as I made my way down to the corner 7-11 to pick up a pack of cigarettes and the day just got better when I ran into some HS friends inside the store. After completing the usual "60 second catch-up" on what was happening in each other's lives, they invited me to a party that evening. My parents were going to a neighborhood get-together anyway, so it wasn't going to cut into any "quality family time", and, I have to admit, I was really flattered by the invitation! You see, it wasnt like I had any real history with these guys. I had transferred in to their school from halfway across the country in the middle of my senior year and always felt really honored when they included me in things! I dont know if any of you have ever been through that – starting all over toward the very end of your HS career – but it can be REALLY scary! I had been pretty popular at my old school – and being a fairly capable swim jock hadnt hurt. And then suddenly I was totally out of my element – in a new school, in a new town, and with no Rep. But I was VERY lucky. For some reason a number of my new classmates had accepted the new kid without hesitation. In fact, it was almost like they were in COMPETITION to win my friendship! And now here I was, half a year past graduation (which can be an ETERNITY at that age!) and these people still thought enough of me to include me in their festivities! Yeah, this weekend at home had been a GOOD idea!
A few hours later, having listened and nodded not only all through the usual drinking and driving lecture but also though the now remember son, this is a very expensive car, not a play thing lecture, I tooled out of the driveway in my dad's glistening new Bimmer toward the party, happily looking forward to a night of revelry with a group of people who had somehow suddenly become my old friends. And what a way to make an entrance! This thing definitely WAS the standard by which others will be judged! And I was kind of proud of the way I handled the responsibility of it too. I mean, yeah, I DID kind of take the long way around to reach my final destination – but I swear I never ONCE hot-rodded the thing nor even exceeded the posted limit by more than just a little bit. That was kid stuff, after all – grownups just didnt take such silly chances! In fact, about the only deferral I made to my relative youth was to ease the thing into a spot near the head of the driveway where people would hopefully see me get in and out of it, rather than parking it on the street where most of the less impressive automobiles resided.
The affair itself turned out to be a mega event, with plenty of available food, drink, drugs, music and plain old fun! I had a truly great time and was really feeling good about my life when, at about midnight, I convinced a small group of people to accompany me in making our way toward the exit on the pretext that we could meet for coffee at a local diner and wind down a bit. The party was still going strong, and my parents really hadnt given me any kind of curfew per se, but _s_h_i_t_, I wanted as many people as possible to witness me hit the button on that little key bob thingy and climb behind the wheel of the impressive machine that awaited my departure!
As we walked out of the house my reverie came to a sudden, SCREECHING halt! There in the driveway sat my Dad's shiny new toy - with a MAJOR dent in the passenger side front door! I literally froze – and I swear I nearly stroked out right then and there! _s_h_i_t_!! This was BAD! Really, really, REALLY bad! My head was swimming. I had been SO frigging careful with that car – how could this have POSSIBLY happened? _d_a_m_n_! If only my moms car hadnt been in the shop – my dad would have DEFINITELY insisted I take that one rather than his new baby! If only I had parked it out on the street! If only I had driven the more direct route I might have ended up in a different parking spot! If only this, if only that! And how would my dad react?? I mean, it wasnt MY fault! He couldnt blame ME, could he?? _s_h_i_t_, GET REAL! He was gonna blow a gasket! I was TOAST!
The people I was with hadnt seen me arrive, but HAD listened to me bragging about the car a bit. As I stood there cemented in place their eyes followed my gaze and they immediately realized why they had almost tripped over me on the front porch. Oh man! THATS your Dads new car?? Your ass is BURNED, Bobby! It was Gregs voice – the guy that I had probably grown closest to during my brief tenure in the new school. It was just an expression. Neither he nor any of the rest of the group could have possibly had any idea about my fathers preferred method of discipline. But at that moment I realized that the comment may indeed be INCREDIBLY close to the mark! My dad hadnt spanked me in over six months – since before I graduated from HS – and I was CERTAINLY beyond the range of that type of parental display of displeasure NOW – wasnt I?? I mean, he wouldnt. He couldnt. COULD HE?? Oh God Oh God Oh God!! My stomach was doing flip flops and I suddenly realized that I had one hand gently rubbing my butt – as if it was appreciating the silky smooth texture of that part of my anatomy which might transform into something more closely related to alligator skin in the not too distant future! As I forced my hand away from its target I glanced furtively around to see if anyone had noticed but thankfully all their eyes were still glued to the car.
An idiot could have seen that I was more than just slightly shaken up by this. The entire group offered a lot of moral support and three of them (all guys) followed me home to tell my dad that I really hadn't been at fault. Of course, HE saw it as nothing more than friends lying for a buddy to save his ass and didn't believe a word they said. They DID lie about one thing (as did I) - we ALL told him that I had absolutely nothing to drink that night. In reality, I DID have a few beers, but it was over a period of several hours and I swear I was sober as a preacher. My dad's impression, of course, was that I had been drinking and that I had probably hit something on the way home and was afraid to admit it. And there was NO changing his mind!
Luckily, while he was NOT particularly nice to them, he at least ushered them out the door before REALLY laying into me. He was PISSED - and I'm sure that if they lingered outside for even a few minutes they heard him yelling and reading me the riot act. I don't THINK that they would have stuck around long enough to hear the climax to that discussion: "Get up to your room NOW - and you _d_a_m_n_ed well better be READY when I get there!" (At least I have always PRAYED that they didn't hear that part!).
I really didn't know what to do! I WAS kind of shocked that he would still spank me now that I was in college - and I was VERY upset that he didn't believe me, because I knew in my heart that I had NOT done anything wrong. I froze again for a moment, this time weighing my options. I had already tried reasoning with him, and THAT hadn't worked. He was MUCH bigger than I was (6'3, 240lbs to my 6', 160lbs at the time), so I sure as hell couldn't fight him (and somehow don't think I would have considered that option even if our sizes had been reversed). I knew I was dependent on him for my financial support, and would be for quite a while, so just running out the door and jumping a bus back to school wasn't in the cards. I was still standing there, lost in thought, when he yelled "You heard me mister - MOVE!!"
Somehow, my feet took flight without any input from my brain! I was up in my room and had begun unbuttoning my jeans before I was even conscious of having made a "decision" in the matter! But then, who am I kidding? What other "decision" could there have possibly been? He was MY DAD, after all, even if he WAS wrong this time. And then there was the ever present Catholic School Boy guilt thing! I mean face it, I HAD lied about the drinking, and even though it wasnt related to the damage I had still disobeyed! The words in the lecture had not been Youre only allowed to have a FEW drinks if you drive – it had been Do NOT drink and drive. Period! And what about the last few months up at school? What would my parents have thought about my experiences to date there? The drinking, the _s_e_x_, the drugs (very MILD experimentation, I SWEAR – but experimentation none the less!). No matter how indignant I tried to make myself based on this unjust accusation, my mind just kept running in circles. How many justifiable spankings had I avoided in the last few months? Five? Ten? MORE??
No. Deserved this time or not, there was no way around this. My dad was going to express his displeasure the old fashioned way. I was gonna get spanked. And it was gonna be BAD!
To be continued......