The story you're about to read may very well be true. If you want to find out for sure, you're going to have to whip me until I tell you!
It was May 1st. Ut oh. I hated the first day of every month. In December of the previous year Dad had decided to teach me and my five brothers some respect for authority. He said his plan to reform us was very simple. On the first day of each month, he would draw names. Three of his boys would be on the giving end and 3 would be on the receiving end - on the end of a paddling I mean. Dad supervised the process and whichever boy cried first (which was often me) would get a bare bottom over the knee hand spanking by each of his five brothers, then a severe paddling from Dad.
It was 7:00 and we had just finished dinner. It was now time for lineup. Dad led all six of us out to the woodshed.
If your name is called, you will be administering the discipline. As I call your name, choose your paddle from the wall.
Oh I could only hope my name would be called. So far we had already had 5 "reformation nights" and I was the only boy who had been on the receiving end every time. Surely tonight would be different. It just had to be.
"Jimmy, take your board" My six year old brother looked excited as he picked up a small ping pong paddle. He had gotten spanked along side of me last time and he was glad to have gotten off on the better end of things this time. "Jimmy, you will be spanking Alan." How unfair was that? Alan was nineteen years old and was going to get spanked by a six year old? Give me a break!
"Alex, choose your weapon," Dad said. The ten year old had not even experienced his first spanking yet - how was he lucky enough to administer the whipping month after month? "You're going to be whipping Barry." That was a bit closer of a match. Barry was eight years old so there were only two years difference between them.
Ut oh. It was down to just me and Tommy. Tommy was seventeen and I was twelve. Tommy was the jock of the family - huge muscles - always working out. Oh, I could only hope he would not be spanking me.
"Tommy, take the frat paddle and obviously you're spanking Justin"
I wanted to cry. It just wasn't fair! Why me? Why was I always on the receiving end. But I knew better than to say anything. Last time I did, Dad took a switch to me. And the switch was the worst thing in the world to be beat with.
For phase I, we were all told to remove our shirts and then to pull our jeans down to our ankles. Dad ordered us to line up side by side. On the count of three we grabbed our ankles. We were all standing there in our tight white briefs. I hated this more than anything. How humiliating.
"Go!" Dad yelled.
Tommy slammed the frat paddle into my cold behind. "Owww!!" I yelled with the first swat. WHHHAAACCCCKKK!!!! The second swat echoed he hit me so hard. WHACK! Oh I could have killed him. I could only hope I would be chosen to whip him next week. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The frat paddle sucked - at the age of twelve, my bottom was so small that the paddle covered almost every inch of it at once. WHACK! I was trying my best to fight off the tears. WHACK! WHACK! But my butt was already throbbing. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
"Stop!" Dad commanded. "Justin buddy, it looks like once again you are the chosen one."
Ah man. No way. "Underwear off."
"The rest of you can put your clothes back on."
I don't know how Dad thought this was going to reform me. I hadn't even done anything wrong. Dad made me get over each of my brothers' knees (one at a time of course - in order from youngest to oldest). Each of my brothers spanked me as long and as hard as they could - probably giving me anywhere between 15 and 35 licks each. By the time Tommy spanked my bare bottom again, I thought I was going to die.
Then it was time for the first part. Dad.
"Please Daddy, please don't paddle me."
"Do you want the switch?"
"No Sir," I cried as I bent across his lap.
"I'm gonna teach you to not be such a sissy little boy." Dad said as he gently laid his hole-filled paddle across my naked behind.
He slowly rubbed the paddle in a circle to cover my entire cheeks. "you know this is going to hurt, don't you boy?"
"Yes Sir!"
WWWHWHHHACCCCKC!!!!!! "What did you say?"
I said "yes sir!"
"Good!"
"Here it comes!" With that, my old man started whaling in me. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! He continued - each lick landing on my right cheek. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! "DAAAADDDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!" I screamed. The licks continued - still on the right cheek. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! I tried to kick my legs but Dad wrapped his right leg around mine. "Now for the left cheek," he said. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! I could barely see Tommy out of the corner of my eye. He was grinning from ear to ear as if this was the funniest thing he had even seen. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! "Now for the real discipline," Dad said as he picked up the belt and doubled it over.
Dad had never before whipped me with the belt. The thought scared me to death. But I didn't have much time to think about it. SWOOOSH! It felt like the leather cut into me. SWOOOOSH! That one landed right at the top of my legs. SWOOOSH! SWOOOSH! SWOOOSH! Dad was striping my behind something fierce. SWOOOSH! SWOOOOSH!
You would think somebody would have reported my old man for child abuse. But they never did. Everyone just kept their noses to themselves. Dad continued these "reformation nights" until all of us boys moved out of the house.
If you would like to find out if this is a true story, you're going to have to take me across your knee and wear me out like my old man did in this story. I live in Charleston, WV so you'll have to be in this area.