"CHRIS!!! How many times have I told you not to use the table saw when I'm not around?" yelled Dad.
I stood there. "I don't know."
"I believe I told you YESTERDAY, didn't I?"
"Yes, Dad. I'm sorry, I forgot," I answered.
"Well, lets see if my belt across your ass will help you remember," Dad replied as he reached out and put his hand around the back of my neck and guided me towards the kitchen door, and upstairs towards his bedroom.
Punishments almost always takes place in my parents bedroom. When we were younger, I can remember getting my butt swatted on the spot when I did something wrong, but as I got older and a couple swats on the butt wasn't a sufficient punishment, with a few exceptions, spankings started taking place in my parents bedroom. My father told my brothers and me how he would get punished in front of his sister and he hated that. He swore back then would never do that to any of his children. So unless we were all getting punished together, it was done in private.
Once inside my parents room, I sat down on the cedar chest in front of their bed. Dad stood in front of me and took off his belt. He started lecturing. Dad's table saw was old and was a little temperamental. Among other things, the on off switch needed to be replaced. Until this year, I wasn't even allowed to touch it. While I can use his table saw, I am supposed to only operate it when Dad is present. Even Dad won't use that alone -- he makes sure either Mom or I am around -- that is how unsafe he feels it is. He says he is going to replace it, but he just hasn't got to it yet. I was starting to tune out his lecture, when I heard my mother come up the stairs with Nicky, my younger brother.
"Maybe a sore butt will help you remember your responsibilities," Mom said as her and Nick entered the bedroom.
Mom stopped short when she saw Dad and me. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that I was in trouble and what was about to happen.
"Good, when you are done with that one," Mom said, nodding at me, "finish up with this one."
"Sure, Lia. What did he do?"
"His little brain can't remember to do his chores, even though I've been reminding him for the past two weeks. I thought maybe some encouragement across his butt might help." Looking at me, "What did yours do?"
"His little brain can't remember not to touch my table saw."
"WHAT??!!! CHRISTOPHER that thing is dangerous!! What are you thinking? You know better than that. Answer me! You could cut your hand off with that....."
I made feeble attempts at answering my mother, but she kept the rapid fire questions going for about a minute. What is it with mothers asking rhetorical questions, insisting for an answer, never waiting for one, but then gets mad when she doesn't get one?
"Lia! Hey, I got it..." Dad interrupted her.
"Yeah, sure you have. Dammit Danny, this is your fault. You shouldn't have that thing in the garage in the first place. You promised me you would get rid of that thing 5 years ago and now you've allowed our son to use it. That thing is faulty, how many times has it almost cut your fingers off? What if something happens to them? What if something happens to you?"
"Ok, ok, you're right. I'll get the boys to help me disassemble it and take it to the dump this afternoon. Ok, babe?"
Dad went up to hold her. Nick and I just sat on the cedar chest trying to be invisible. Mom's parents died in a car accident when she was 10. Her older brother, Uncle Doug, was 19 at the time and he became her guardian. So to say that Mom gets freaky when something could cause her to lose one of us is an understatement.
Dad let go of Mom and she went downstairs. Dad looked at me, "Now do you see why I don't want you touching that table saw?"
I nodded and said, "I'm sorry."
"Your Mom is right, I should have got rid of that years ago....."
I wasn't too happy with his decision to get rid of the table saw, because I like using it. Dad started lecturing me again on the table saw. Finally he stopped and told me to bend over the cedar chest and Nick to stand by the windows. That means we are about to get our butts beat.
"Hey Mom, can I go to --" Sam ran into the bedroom and just stopped. Sam is my youngest brother. Like I said, it didn't take a brain surgeon to see what was going on in here. Nick standing by the windows, me standing in front of the cedar chest unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans and Dad holding the belt in his hand. Yup, the situation was pretty cut and dry.
"Your brothers about to get their butts kicked. I only want to do this once today, so you haven't done anything that would warrant you to get a butt kicking, have you?" Dad asked. I could tell he was kinda joking. I figured that meant there was still a chance that Nick and I could get off with just a lecture.
Sam stared blankly at Dad and started fidgeting.
Dad stared at him. "Go stand next to your brother," he told me. I walked toward Nick refastening my jeans as I walked.
Nick whispered to me, "What did he do?"
"I dunno. Looks like he did something. You know?"
"Dude, if I knew, why would I ask you?" Nick whispered back.
"Sam?"
Sam looked at my Dad, but didn't say anything.
"Sam?" Dad said a little louder.
"I...um...I ah....kinda...... skipped school," Sam answered quietly.
"What?"
Nick and I looked at each other. "_d_a_m_n_, I think that tops what we did," I whispered to Nick. "What did you do anyway?"
"More like what I didn't do," he answered.
"What do you mean you 'kinda skipped school'?" Dad asked.
"I didn't go to school last Friday," Sam answered.
"Why not?"
"I don't know. It was such a nice day, and I didn't have any tests, so I just skipped," Sam replied quietly.
"Did your brothers know?"
"No, sir," Sam answered quickly. "I never told them."
About this time, my mother walks back into the bedroom with an arm load of folded towels. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Did you know your son skipped school last Friday?"
Mom looked at Nick and me. "No, not one of them -- that one," Dad said as he pointed to Sam.
"You? You skipped school?? Why?"
"I don't know...."
"Not a good answer. Try again," Mom said as she put the towels on the bed.
"It was a nice day. I didn't have any tests, and we don't start exam review for another week, so I just didn't go," Sam answered dejectedly.
Mom looked at my dad in disbelief. "Who were you with? Where did you go?"
"Ryan. We went to the lake."
"Wait a minute, I was at the lake last Friday. I was at Nancy's baby shower at the pavilion. I didn't see you there." The pavilion was right in the middle of the lake. From there you can see the entire beach area.
"I know. I saw you."
About this time the phone rang. Mom looked at Dad and went downstairs to get it.
Mom and Dad have always been cool with us about school. If we didn't feel like going to school, we could tell them honestly and they would usually let us stay home. Provided we didn't do this very often. All of us had decent grades -- we had to maintain a "B+" average for our parents to allow us to participate in school extra-curricular activities - like football.
"So, since you didn't have any tests, you felt it was ok to just blow off school for the day?" Dad asked Sam.
"Yes, sir."
Turning to Nick and me, Dad asked "Did either of you know about this?"
"No, sir," I answered.
"He wasn't at school and neither of you noticed?" he asked.
"Sometimes we don't see each other at school, Dad. I got a ride home with Sandy and Chris had practice, so I just figured Sam took the bus home," Nick answered.
"You two, sit there." Dad pointed to weight bench in the corner of the room. Looking at Sam, "you, there," pointing to the cedar chest.
About this time, Mom comes back upstairs. "Nicholas."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"That was Mrs. Bennett on the phone. Have you talked to her recently?"
"No, ma'am," he answered shaking his head.
"Are you sure?"
Nick thought about it for a second. "Oh wait, yes, I did talk to her on Thursday. She said she needed to talk to you and that it was important."
"Uh-huh. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I figured I'd forget, but since she said it was important, I left you a note on the kitchen counter."
"You did?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You left a note? Are you sure? I didn't find a note ---"
"He did leave you a note. I ..... ah.....took it," Sam interrupted.
"You took the message for your mother?" Dad questioned him.
"Yes, sir. And..... I didn't give her the message when I talked to Mrs. Bennett yesterday. And...um....and I cleared the message off the answering machine too." Sam stammered.
"He's toast," Nick whispered to me.
"You'd let your brother get in trouble for not giving me a message --"
"No! I didn't! I wouldn't. I just ....I wasn't thinking that Nick would get in trouble... I'm sorry. I'm sorry.... Nick, I'm sorry...." Sam said and looked at the floor again.
"Look at us," Dad said sternly.
Sam looked up slowly and had a hard time keeping his eyes from dropping to the floor.
"Lia, what does this have to do with him skipping school?" Dad asked my mother.
"Samuel, I think it would be best if you told him. And don't leave anything out."
"Yes, ma'am." Looking at the floor again, he continued. "Um.... Ryan and I skipped school last Friday. We rode our bikes to the lake. I saw Mom there and we were afraid to get caught, so we kinda hid in the playground while she was in the Pavilion. We waited for about an hour and got hot and wanted to go swimming, but we couldn't because we knew Mom would see us."
Sam paused and glanced up at Dad. At that moment, Nick and I understood why he was so scared. "Holy _s_h_i_t_," Nick whispered.
The lake was really big surrounded by woods. It was part of a park. The lake was fed by a nearby river. I've never understood why it was never considered part of the river. There was a beach and playground area by the lake. The lake had a bad undercurrent from the river feed, so the county build a huge sandbar in the lake so people could swim in the lake safely. The sandbar was out pretty far, so most of the lake was "swimmable". The part of the lake beyond the sandbar was surrounded by woods. There are lots of signs posted to not swim in that part of the lake. Naturally not everyone pays attention to the signs. I've swam in that part of the lake before and the undercurrent is pretty strong.
Last fall, a bunch of teenagers skipped school and went to the lake for the day. One of the girls drowned. My father, a cop, had to work the scene. Debbie was the 13 year old daughter of another officer - same age as Sam at the time. My father had to tell his friend that his daughter drowned in the lake. When Dad came home that night, he made each of us promise we would never swim in the lake beyond the sandbar.
My father threw the belt in his hand down and grabbed Sam by the upper arms and pulled him to his feet. "What are you trying to tell me, boy?"
"We...um...we went into the woods and.....got into the lake from there, sir." Sam's blue eyes were full of fear and tears. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry. I didn't think about the sandbar, I just wasn't thinking." Sam started crying and sorta collapsed back onto the cedar chest.
Dad pulled him up again and shook him once. "DAMMIT SAM!! WHAT THE _f_u_c_k_ WERE YOU THINKING, BOY?!!!!" Dad roared into his face. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is beyond that sandbar?"
"Yes, sir. I know......I'm sorry," Sam sobbed.
"Do you remember Deborah Murphy?" Dad asked.
Sam sorta shook his head but didn't answer.
"DO YOU?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who is she?"
"She drowned in the lake last fall."
"Yes, and I had to work that scene. I had to tell her father that she drowned. I had to tell someone I went through the academy with that he was never going to see his little girl again."
Sam continued to cry. I felt sorry for him, but at the same time, I was pissed at him. He knew better.
"Do you remember promising me that you would never swim back there?"
"I remember."
"Then WHY THE HELL DID YOU???!!!" Dad yelled.
"I don't know, I don't know.....I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize where we were until we were riding home. And then I got scared. I haven't seen Ryan at school since Wednesday when Mrs. Bennett called Mom, so I figured he got caught.... Dad, I'm sorry.... I didn't mean to get Nicky in trouble...." Sam was still crying.
Dad pushed Sam back down onto the cedar chest and looked at Mom. Mom had tears in her eyes too. I know if she was upset about me using the table saw, she's really upset about this. For that reason alone I was really pissed at Sam.
After a minute, Dad picked up his belt from the floor and looked at Sam.
"Yes, sir", Sam whispered. He stood up, turned around and pulled down his jeans and briefs and bent over the cedar chest without being told to.
Sam wasn't wearing a shirt and while it wasn't even summer yet, you could see a distinct tan line between Sam's back and his white ass.
Dad wasted no time. He reached back and swung the belt full force across the middle of Sam's ass. Sam lurched forwards and cried out, but got back in place quickly.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
While I usually count how many times we get whipped, this time I didn't. I was completely mesmerized by the entire scene. While I was really angry at Sam for breaking his promise to Dad, I also felt sorry for him. I knew Dad was going to beat his butt big time. Nick and I were sitting on the weight bench in the corner of the room. We were angled behind my father but could still see all of what was happening.
From the first time Dad whipped Sam, a 2 inch wide strip of red appeared on Sam's white ass. Dad whipped Sam's ass until it was uniformly red. There were some areas redder than others. Dad will whip you from the top of your ass all the way to your sit spots. Sam had a lot of red stripes on the bottom of his ass.
While I've seen my father whip my brothers many times throughout the years, I've never seen it from this angle. My father had on an "Everlast" workout shirt on. The sleeves were all open and you could see inside his shirt as he whipped Sam. Dad was about 5'10" and had a slim athletic build. I could see all the muscles in his back flexing as he swung the belt. Dad was working up a sweat, although I think some of that was from anger and not from the physical exertion of beating my brother's butt.
Sam was sweating too. His entire upper back was shiny. I could see him tense up all the muscles in his back. As he stood there taking his punishment, he cried and yelled out with each whip of the belt.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!! AAARRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH
CRACK!! CRACK CRACK!! OOOWWWwwwwwwwwwwww
He started shaking his legs and moving from side to side.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! AARRRAAAHHH.... OOOWwwwoowwwwww
He began flexing his arms and arching his back at this point. The only thing arching his back succeeded in doing was giving my father a better target lower on his ass.
After a few minutes, Dad stopped. Sam stood there, hands still on the cedar chest, crying his eyes out. While he got a royal butt roasting, I think the guilt was making him cry more than the pain in his ass. The physical pain of getting your butt kicked didn't hurt Sam as much as the knowledge of getting a spanking.
"Pull up your pants and turn around," my father ordered.
Sam slowly stood up and reached for his jeans and briefs. He yelped as he pulled both up at the same time. He didn't bother zipping and buttoning them. Before he turned around, he wiped his face with his hands and then rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans. When he turned around, he stood up straight in front of Dad. I could see he wanted to rub his ass, but he kept his hands at his sides. All of us have a slim athletic build like our father. Sam is about 5'5. Sam's dark blond hair was soaked with sweat. His chest was also covered with sweat and he was breathing heavy trying to stop crying. Even though he wiped his face, it was still flushed and wet from tears and snot. His lips were bright red. I never noticed that before. I wonder if my lips get that red too?
"Don't you ever swim beyond the sandbar again."
"Yes, sir."
"And you are grounded for three weeks."
"Yes, sir."
Sam's eyes were really bloodshot and they made his blue eyes seem bluer. "Dad, I'm really sorry. It'll never happen again."
"It better not. Go to your room."
"Yes, sir."
Sam walked out of the room and we could hear him flop on his bed. Nick and I looked at Dad. His back was to us. He ran his hands though his hair. He stood there a second shaking his head. "What the _f_u_c_k_ was that kid thinking. _d_a_m_n_ it!" he muttered. He put his belt back on and walked out of the room.
"Uh....What about us?" Nicked asked me.
"I dunno. I guess he forgot about us."
"What are we supposed to do? Stay here?"
"I guess so. Dad said sit here, and I ain't movin," I replied.
"_d_a_m_n_, Sam _f_u_c_k_ed up big time," Nick said.
"I can't believe he forgot about the sandbar."
"I can't believe Dad only whipped him 27 times. If that had been you or me we would have got at least 50," Nick said.
"That's all he whipped him? 27 times?" I asked.
"Yeah, weren't you counting?"
"No, I was like in a daze watching it all," I answered.
Nicky and I made small talk - very quietly - for about 45 minutes until Dad came back into his room.
He looked at us. "What are you doing in here?"
Nick and I looked at each other. "Um...you told us to sit here," I answered.
Dad kinda smiled and shook his head. "Yeah, I did. After Sam, I'm really not up to beating you two right now. Have either of you swam outside the sandbar?"
"Not after I promised I wouldn't," Nick answered.
"Me either," I added.
"Good. Don't. Now, both of you are going to help me disassemble the table saw and take it to the dump. Chris, no more using my power tools without my permission, understood?"
"Understood," I answered.
"And Nick..... What did you do anyway??"
"I forgot to wind the cuckoo clock all week."
"_d_a_m_n_ boy, you've been winding that thing since you were 8. How could you forget that? Ok, don't forget again."
"Ok, Dad."
"Go downstairs and start disassembling, I've got to talk to your brother."
Nick and I went downstairs and started disassembling the table saw. We finished in a few minutes and we waited for Dad. He came into the garage about 30 minutes later and we loaded up the pieces into Mom's jeep and took it to the dump.
By the time we got back, Sam was pushing the lawn mower around the back yard. Nick and I got out of the jeep and started doing our share of yard work for the week. When Sammy was finished, he went inside without saying a word to us.
Sam doesn't usually get into this much trouble by himself. So when he does, it's something big. Afterwards Sam retreats into himself and won't talk to anyone for a week or so. Nicky and I know this and we can get him to do pretty much anything at that time - all our chores, cover for us, etc. I know it is wrong to take advantage of the runt when he is hurting, but if I can't take advantage of my little brother, who can? However, this time, Nicky and I didn't take advantage of him at all. It just didn't feel right. It took Sam about two and a half weeks to get back to normal.