When I was eight I got a new dad and a new life.
My mum left my real dad and I did not see him after that. We moved to another part of the country. I felt bad about it but my new dad was kind and played with me a lot. He bought me lots of presents and a new bike.
This all happened at the beginning of the summer. My new dad owned a large home with a huge garden and I playd for ohours exploring the garden. dad made a hut for me in the garden and I played there with Jack, the son of my dad's freinds, who was a year older than me. At the beginning of the nxt term I would be going to the same svhool as jack.
Having no brothers or sisters, Jack and I became best freinds. I liked having Jack as a kind of older brother.
This is what I did not like.
Dad would call me to come in the house, it was lunch time or supper time. Jack and I just played on and eventually Dad would come and fetch as. As we walked back to the house together Dad said ''Simon, if you don't come when I call you I will smack your bottom''. I looked at Dad and saw he was sertious. I looked at Jack and saw him grinning at me. I was a little embarrased.
Jack and I shared a lot of details about punishments that we got from then on. We also smacked one another sometimes. If we played a game and I lost I would have to bend over his knee and he would pull my shorts and underpants down and slap my bottom. He liked to smack hard, ''like my dad smacks my bottom'' he would say and trell me that I had been a bad boy who needed a red bottom to remind me to be good'' words like that. I am surprised my mum and dad never found out. I guess the days we played 'dads and sons' were not my bath nights.
My smackls from dad were usually after bath time on nights when mum was not in the house. I soon found out that she knew dad smacked me but she did not interfere. At breakfastr dad would say things like ''Simon needed a smack last night''. we never said any more about it.
Looking back I realise now that dad probably liked having a young boy to discipline as punishments were always long and formal. They were not 'a smack' ( which sounded innocent enough) but hard whacks usually with a slipper which stung my young bottom like mad and always had nme crying. When I went to my senior school dad bought a whippy cane which he used whenever I did not do as well at school as he wished. Unlike my childbhood bedtime slipperings the cane was usually given when I was in school uniform. One memory I have of a caning was when dad had me bent over the table and told me that my bottom was getting a good caning, I was in the first year of senior school so was 11 years old. The trousers I wore that time were tight (it must have been the end of the school year and I had outgrown them). Dad made comments about my bottom and how it needed the cane. I felt a terrible sting at the first whack and I reached back to grab my bottom, massaging it to reduce the sting.
dad told me to stand up and face him. He told me that as a punishment for touching my bottom he would cane me on my underpants. he undid my trousers and pulled them down. I bent over the end of the table and waited. Dad rubbed my bottom and then I felt him moving the cane across my bottom, kind of stroking the surface of the underpants. The sting from the cane on underpants felt the same as with my trousers up. I cried like a baby and dad told me to stop making a fuss. I remembered thinking how he would like to be on the receiving end of that terrible cane.
I was always allowed to rub my bottom immediatly dad had given my the usual six whacks. As I left the room rubbing my sore backside I would turn round and he would smile back at me. I was a ggod looking boy, looking at my old school photos and I know dad liked seeing his cute little eleven year old step son rubbing the stripes on his small pert bottom. he would come to my room at bedtime and I had to lie on my front whilst dad pulled my nighshirt up to inspect the marks.
Of course I only ever got the cane in school holidays. Dad was careful not to let anyone see the marks. In school time it was back to his hard slipper.
I knew that dad would punish me whenever I did anything wrong so I generally stayed out of trouble. I grew to accept having to stand in front of him whilst he undid my shorts and pulled my underwear down before making me bend over his lap ar the chair. Jack's dad never caned him, as far as I know, he used a slipper on Jack but always bared his son's bottom first. I saw Jack get a slippering once when I stayed at his house for a week in the holidays. Back in his room he let me rub his bottom. The marks were much redder than when we played at smacking, and Jack had been crying. His eyes were as red as his bottom which had deep blotches on each side.
I guess my dad and Jack's talked about the punishments they handed out just like I compare notes with Jack today when we spank our young sons.