Authors note: Neither this story nor its author supports the use of corporal punishment on minors. Comments welcome.
Jimmy came home that spring afternoon, nervous of what awaited him. After pulling his car into the driveway, he went to the mailbox and got the mail before heading inside. As he stepped inside the house, he flipped through the envelopes. Bill, bill, junk mail...report card.
At age 23, Jimmy was still living at home in order to help his father save money for tuition. He didn't mind living at home, though, and neither did his father, who quite enjoyed having his son around these last few years. The two men had grown a lot closer and had become good friends, while still maintaining their father son relationship.
Jimmy nervously opened the university grade report he'd gotten in the mail. His grades had been excellent all through college, but this semester was his final one in college, and Jimmy had taken to celebrating graduation a few months too early. Consequently, he'd realized a little too late that he was actually failing one of his classes. However, an A on his final exam would bring his grade up to passing -- anything less, though, would keep him from graduating on time.
Jimmy stared at the grade report in disbelief. Despite days of cramming, he'd still failed the class. He wouldn't be able to graduate. Sure, Jimmy thought to himself, he could take the class over in the summer, but that's extra money and time he could've avoided spending...money that he would have to get from his father.
Jimmy went upstairs to his room and sat on the edge of his bed, still holding the grade report. He was disappointed and angry at himself, but overwhelmingly, he was afraid of what his father would think. The two of them had gotten so close these last few years -- what if this messed it all up? What if his father lost all respect for him? His father had been so good, Jimmy remembered, about allowing him to switch majors multiple times, extending his college education by a year or two. "Just as long as you work hard and keep your grades up, I don't care how long it takes you," his father had said. But now, he'd failed a class out of carelessness and violated the trust built up between him and his father. He'd never be able to make it up to the old man, Jimmy thought. But then, he had an idea...
Jimmy got up and went into his father's room. Opening his father's closet door, Jimmy looked inside, smiling. After all these years, his father had still kept the old leather strap hanging up. Jimmy hesitated...he couldn't believe what he was about to do. Then a wave of determination swept over him, and he lifted the strap off the hook. He was about to walk out of his father's bedroom when he noticed something. His father's old fraternity paddle had always hung on a wall next to the bed. Jimmy could still remember several rousing stories his father him about the good old hazing rituals of times past -- times when a man had to prove his devotion to his brothers by enduring a long hard paddling. Jimmy thought for a moment, then returned the strap to its place in the closet and instead lifted the paddle off the wall before returning to his room.
It's heavier than I thought, Jimmy wondered as he placed the paddle on his bed. He stared at it for a while, amazed at what he was about to do. After he'd gotten his last strapping five years ago, Jimmy would've done anything to avoid getting spanked by his father again, but now...he was actually about to ask for it.
Still eyeing the paddle, Jimmy removed his shirt and tossed it in the corner. Next, he kicked off his shoes and undid his jeans, sliding them down to the floor and tossing them in the corner along with his shirt. Jimmy removed his socks last, throwing them in the pile with the rest of his clothes, then sat on the edge of his bed, the paddle beside him, waiting for his father to come home from work.
Fifteen minutes later, Jimmy heard his father come in.
"Jim, I'm home!" he called out characteristically.
"I'm up here, dad!" Jimmy called back nervously, taking the grade report in hand.
Jimmy's heart began to beat faster, his palms became damp. He heard his father climbing the stairs.
"Jim?" his father called out as he reached the second floor landing?
"In my room, dad," Jimmy replied.
Jimmy's father entered the bedroom, his tie already unknotted and his shirt already half-way unbuttoned, revealing the man's powerfully built upper body. The man stopped at the sight of his brief-clad son sitting next to his old fraternity paddle.
"What's up, Jim?" his father said uncertainly, his eyes falling to the piece of paper in his son's hand.
Jimmy stood and handed the grade report to his father, who read over it without a word.
"Failed?" his father said after a long while.
"Yes, Sir," Jimmy replied, his eyes falling to the floor.
"Look at me, son!" his father said gruffly.
"Sir," Jimmy replied automatically as he looked his father in the eye.
"Explain," his father said hotly.
"I blew it, Sir. I started partying too soon and let all my grades fall. That was the one class I wasn't able to recover from, though. And now I can't graduate this semester."
Jimmy paused nervously.
"I intend on taking the class again this summer, though, so I can still graduate in a few months," the boy added.
Jimmy's father shook his head slowly, looking at the grade report.
"I'm so disappointed in you, Jimmy," his father said. "I was always happy to pay for your education, son, just so long as you kept your grades up."
His father paused thoughtfully.
"But I suppose... I suppose this could happen to anyone. It was your last semester and all..." he added.
His father turned away, still looking at the grade report.
"But _d_a_m_n_it, Jim, this is a lot of money! You didn't just get a poor grade, you flat-out failed! Do you expect me to pay for you to retake this class?" his father asked angrily, looking Jimmy in the eye.
Jimmy swallowed.
"Well, Sir, I was hoping you would. I know I screwed up, dad, I really do, and that's why..." he paused, "that's why I think you should spank me like you used to. I mean...if I was back in high school, you wouldn't hesitate to take the strap to my ass. And, well, I remember the last licking you ever gave me...you said that it didn't matter how old I got -- you would always hold me accountable for my behavior, and I was never too old to get spanked by you. So, that's what I think you should do, Sir."
Jimmy looked nervously at his father, whose eyes fell to the paddle on the bed.
"And my paddle?" his father asked.
"Well, Sir, I remember how you used to say that when you were in college, you and the other guys had to prove your devotion to your brothers with a paddling --"
"Paddlings," his father corrected him. "Plural."
"Er...right. And, well, I was feeling really bad about messing up what we had going here. I mean...I feel like we've gotten close these past few years, and I feel like I've let you down. So, instead of taking a strapping, I thought you could paddle me like your frat brothers paddled you. It would be both a punishment and a chance for me to prove to you how sorry I am that I let you down."
Jimmy's father walked over to his son and placed a hand on the boy's muscled shoulder.
"Jim, I don't think there's anything you could do to destroy our relationship. True, you let me down, but you didn't mess up what we've built these last few years. In fact, if anything, you've made it even stronger by coming to me now and owning up to your mistake." His father paused, smiling. "In fact, I'm pretty amazed at all this. This took balls, kid."
Jimmy smiled.
"And you're right, son," his father said, "you do deserve a licking. And I think the old paddle is just the way to go."
His father went to the bed and picked the paddle up, twirling it in his hand slightly and smiling.
"I spent a lot of nights sleeping on my stomach because of this thing," he said smiling even more. "And I think it's about time you experienced that, too."
The man sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at his son.
"Already stripped down and everything..." he said chuckling. "You were pretty determined to take your licking!"
Jimmy smiled nervously.
"Yes, Sir. I wanted you to know I was serious."
"Good," his father said as his smile faded, "because so am I. Lose the briefs, son."
Jimmy nodded, and slowly slid his tight white briefs down to the floor, tossing them in the pile with the rest of his clothes. Years ago, when he was a teenager, Jimmy (despite having the ripped musculature of a man) had always felt self-conscious and nervous when he had to strip naked in front of his father for punishment. But now, he felt different. Jimmy realized his father must have been in this exact situation countless times before with his own father, so there was no need for embarrassment. In fact, it was something of a family tradition -- something he was proud to be a part of. And there was no need for modesty either -- the two men were constantly walking around the house in just their underwear. Besides, Jimmy didnt have anything his father hadnt seen before.
He stood in front of his father proudly, waiting for further instruction and ready to take whatever punishment the man deemed necessary.
His father looked at the paddle in his hands.
"Normally, boy, you go over the bed for your punishments...but I think this time we'll do it a little differently -- the way I got it with this thing," his father said, looking at Jimmy. "Legs apart, son...grab your knees."
Jimmy nodded and obeyed, feeling awkward in the new position, but strangely relaxed at baring himself completely to his father.
The man stood, rolling up his sleeves and removing his tie. He undid one more button on his shirt, exposing even more of his powerful chest and abs.
"Alright, son," his father said, taking his place behind the boy, "here are the rules. You take whatever I give you, do you understand?
"Yes, Sir," Jimmy replied.
"Further more, you are not to move from that position for any reason, do you understand?
"Yes, Sir," Jimmy said again.
"If you get up from that position, son, the punishment starts all over again, do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Finally, you will count each swat aloud, thank me for it, and ask for another, do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," Jimmy said, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement. Having never joined a frat, he'd always wondered what the hazing experience would be like. Now, he was about to find out...
CRACK!!! The first swat landed mercilessly.
"One, Sir," Jimmy called out in sheer agony. "Thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?"
CRACK!!! The second landed with equal force and pain.
"Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?" Jimmy called out, his eyes stinging with tears already.
CRACK!!!
"Three, Sir. Thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?" Jimmy called out with a new respect for his father. How was anyone able to endure more than one of these paddlings, he wondered.
CRACK!!!
Jimmy's father watched his son count out the forth swat, visibly in pain. The boy was doing well, his father thought. He thought back to his first fraternity paddling, remembering how he'd only barely managed to stay down for the whole 15 swats. It seemed like an enormous number at the time, but as initiation week went on and the number of swats increased, he knew that 15 was a blessing.
CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!!
"Ten, Sir.... Thank you, Sir.... May I have another, Sir...." Jimmy called out, pausing after each remark. The pain was becoming unbelievable. He could hardly stand it any longer. He'd only received ten swats, and already he was having trouble forcing himself to stay in position. But he remembered his father's instructions -- that if he broke position it all started over again. The mere thought of all his previous swats being wasted was enough to keep him bent over. Besides, he thought to himself, he deserved what he got. Not only that, but he'd asked for it! It even felt cleansing, in a way.
CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!!
"Thirteen, Sir. Thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?" Jimmy called out, suddenly pushing through the pain barrier. A moment ago he was on the verge of breaking, but now, even though the pain was still there fresh as ever, he didn't mind it.
Two more, his father thought. I'll only give him 15...this time...
CRACK!!!
"Fourteen, Sir. Thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?" Jimmy called out, suddenly aware that he in fact did want another swat.
CRACK!!!
"Fifteen, Sir! Thank you, Sir! May I have another, Sir!" Jimmy called out, suddenly experiencing a burst of energy and stamina.
"Alright, Jim," his father said, "that's all. You may stand now."
The man waited, fully expecting to see his son rise, but quite amazingly, his son stayed in position.
"May I have another, Sir?" Jimmy called out again, his resolve strengthened. He needed another swat -- he craved it.
Jimmy's father raised an eyebrow in amazement. He'd given his son fifteen of the most intense swats he could deliver, and now his son was actually asking for the paddling to continue?
"May I have another, Sir?" Jimmy asked again.
Well...his father thought with a smile...if the boy needs it, the boy needs it...
CRACK!!!
"Sixteen, SIR! Thank you, SIR! May I have another, SIR?" Jimmy called out in a deepened voice.
CRACK!!!
"Seventeen, SIR! Thank you, SIR! May I have another, SIR?" the boy said again.
CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!!
"Twenty, SIR! Thank you, SIR! May I have another, SIR?" Jimmy said, suddenly overcome by the pain.
CRACK!!!
Jimmy fought to stay in position. The pain was overwhelming.
Jimmy's father immediately noticed the change in his son's demeanor, suddenly realizing what had happened. He recalled a time or two during his own fraternity initiation when he'd gotten overzealous and asked for more swats than his brothers had intended on giving him.
"Count it out, Jim," his father said.
"Twenty-one, Sir. Thank you, Sir... May --"
Jimmy's father cut him off.
"That's all for today, son. Now get up before I change my mind and really lay into you."
Jimmy didn't have to be told a third time. He rose quickly, fresh waves of pain streaking through his ass and legs.
"Son," Jimmy's father said, looking the boy in the eye, "I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, dad," Jimmy said a little weakly as his father embraced him firmly.
"You took that well -- better than I took my first paddling, in fact..." his father said with a grin.
Jimmy smiled broadly.
"Really?" he asked.
"Yeah," his father said, "And I bet you'll take tomorrow's even better!"
Jimmy's face dropped.
"Tomorrow's!?"
"Yeah. You didn't think I'd let you get away with failing a class that easily, did you?" his father said with a smile.
"Well...I...I thought...uh" Jimmy said desperately.
"Son, when I was pledging my fraternity, we went through one hellish week of paddlings to prove our devotion to our brothers. As I recall, you asked me to paddle you so that you could prove to me how sorry you were for failing this class, am I right?"
Jimmy lowered his head.
"Yes, Sir..."
"And I intend to hold you that. That's part of being a man, son...you've got to learn to honor your commitments," his father said, placing a hand on his son's muscled shoulder again.
"Yes, Sir," Jimmy said, knowing his father was right.
"Besides, as long as you don't get too eager in the future, and you stop the paddling when I say it's time..."
Jimmy smiled.
"...then you'll do just fine," his father continued.
"Thanks, dad. And...again, I'm sorry." Jimmy said earnestly.
"I know you are, son, and I forgive you. But we've still got a long way to go yet until you're punishment is over. You'll report here every day for the next week for your paddling," his father said. "I expect you to be stripped down to your briefs and waiting with the paddle by the time I get home from work. We'll take care of your punishment as soon as I get home."
"Yes, Sir." Jimmy said, straightening up.
"And who knows..." his father said, looking at the paddle still in his hand, "maybe when this is all over...I'll let you return the favor, just like my brothers let me do when my initiation was all over."
Jimmy grinned widely, imagining his father bent over for a paddling from his own son. Now that was something to look forward to...