(Usual disclaimers apply)
My older sister bellowed down the phone at me:
"Your nephew Shannon needs help with a school project. He'll be around to see you in fifteen minutes. OK?"
Without giving me a chance to reply she hung up.
Being a 35 year old bachelor, I didn't bother much with keeping my apartment tidy. Besides it was a Friday night and I'd had a busy week at work. I did move a couple of old newspapers off the spare chair and sprayed an air-freshener around the room. The clinging odour made me choke so I opened the window. Shannon who was walking through the gate looked up at the window and waved. I opened the front door and waited for him.
"Hi Uncle Steve".
"Hi yourself".
I tousled his hair and he grinned. We went through to the living room.
"Park your bum", I said and he did.
Shannon went to high school. He had that freshly-scrubbed adolescent look.
"How's my favourite nephew?" I asked.
"I'm your ONLY nephew", he reminded me.
"You're still my favourite", I told him gently. "So, what"s the project?"
He fished a notebook and pen out of his pocket.
"My class is researching the use of corporal punishment in the home", he said matter-of-factly.
"What?" I exploded.
"Mum told me that Gramps use to give you hidings all the time".
"Well, not all the time", I said, defensively. "Only when I deserved them". A memory flashed into my mind of getting my bare tail leathered when I was about Shannon's age. My father used a belt for more than just keeping his trousers up.
"I wish Gramps was still here so I could ask him about the hidings". The man had died about eighteen months ago and being Shannon's first loss, the boy had felt it keenly.
"Uh, huh" I replied. "Shannon, I'm not sure this is a suitable subject for a school project. Did your teacher suggest it?"
"Yes", he said. "Ms Chambers is interested in the punitive paternal rituals of the last century".
I'd met the diminutive Ms Chambers with her cropped hair and simmering anger against the male of the species.
"I bet she is". There was a pause. "All right, tell me what you want to know".
"Well, did it .. um .. work?"
"Yes, I think it did. Unlike grounding where the parents are as much a prisoner as the boy, a hiding was over in minutes. The slate wiped clean. It cleared the air and family members were able to resume their normal cordial relationships".
I looked at Shannon who was diligently writing down everything I'd said.
"Do you get hidings?" I asked him.
Shannon looked up and blushed. He was the only child in a one parent family.
"Nuh. Mum just yells at me".
"And never listens to a word you say", I said sympathetically.
He just grinned.
"Well, I've got something here you might be interested in".
I fished around in a cluttered drawer and found a leather belt. I handed it to Shannon.
"That was the one Dad used. I kept it when we were clearing out his things".
The youth looked at the leather as if it might bite.
"Go on, take it" I urged.
He grabbed hold of the old belt.
"It's heavy".
"Always used doubled-over on the backside".
"But why did you get it on the .um.. backside ?"
"Because that is the part of a boy's anatomy which Mother Nature might have designed for the purpose. Two mounds of flesh with no bones or blood vessels near the surface to get damaged. Plenty of nerve endings though to transmit the hurt".
"Did you keep your shorts on ?"
"No, always on the bare".
"Embarrassing".
"Well, that was part of it. More importantly, he could see how much damage he was inflicting and moderate or increase the licks accordingly. The buttocks can absorb a good hiding with no lasting injury".
"When did you get your last hiding?"
"Just before my 17th birthday".
"I'm 16", Shannon reflected. "What did you do wrong?"
"Your Gramps caught me smoking. After a session with that belt I never touched another cigarette. He must have saved me a mint of money over the years, not to mention the health benefits".
Shannon gently placed the belt on the table beside his chair. I took hold of his hand and inspected his fingers.
"No nicotine stains", I noted. Shannon still hung his head.
"I take money out of Mum's purse". His voice was little more than a whisper.
"You steal from your mother ?"
"I always mean to put it back but .. " His voice tailed off.
"Your Mum can't afford to lose money".
"I know", he said, miserably.
There was a long silence.
"I'm sure Ms Chambers will enjoy reading all about it in your project. It'll simply reinforce her prejudices against the male of the species".
"Will you give me one?" His voice was little more than a whisper.
"What?"
"A hiding. So I know what it feels like. And for stealing from Mum".
"I can tell you what a hiding feels like son, it bloody hurts". I cleared my throat. "As for the money, you can work for me in the factory after school".
"Thanks, Uncle Steve!" He looked up at me with shining eyes. "I won't let you down".
"All right, then".
"I still need a hiding, though".
I must admit the thought of warming the teen's firm, taut bottom was tempting but I thought better of it.
"No".
"It'll be ok if Mum gives her premission".
"Well ... "
Silently, he handed me the cordless phone. I hit my sister's speed-dial number with a sigh.
"Hello ? Who is it?"
Shannon grinned when he heard his mother yelling.
"You don't need a bleeding phone", I protested. "Just open the window and bellow".
"Is Shannon upsetting you?" she hollered.
"Nothing like that. He .. he wants me to give him a hiding. For his school project. So he knows what it feels like. I need your permission".
"Permission granted".
"But ..."
"Oh, don't be such a WUSS! Just DO it". She hung up in my ear.
"You heard the lady". I looked at Shannon. "Go use the toilet. We don't want any accidents. Then wait for me in the bedroom".
My nephew padded down the hall. I went to the linen cupboard and found an old pair of pyjamas which were several sizes too small for me. I heard the cistern flush and the toilet door shut. I intercepted Shannon on his way to the bedroom.
"Strip off all your clothes and put these on". I handed him the striped pyjamas. I'll be there in five minutes".
I went back to the living room and picked up the belt. I still couldn't believe I was about to stripe Shannon's rear with it. I liked the boy but stealing from his mother was wrong and he needed to be taught a lesson. After leaving him to sweat for a bit I made my way along the passage and into the bedroom. I closed the door behind me.
Shannon looked a treat in my old pyjamas. He watched while I closed the window and pulled the drapes. I switched on a lamp.
"Face the bed. Drop the pants and kneel on the bed with your bottom in the air".
The boy did as he was told. I admired his perfectly proportioned pink buttocks. His legs were apart and I could see his anal button inside its hairless crease.
"Put your knees together, Shannon and bend right over".
Both his nether cheeks joined together and concealed the puckered hole.
I raised the belt and slammed it down against the virgin flesh. A broad river of red snaked around Shannon's buttocks. He groaned but remained in position. I gave him six hefty licks with the punishing leather and then paused.
"The hiding will not stop until you tell me you are sorry".
The boy deliberately unclenched his cheeks as the belt rose and fell. I laid into him with every ounce of strength I had. The only sounds were my grunting with the exertion, the slap of leather against bare flesh and Shannon's yells.
I stopped and squeezed each flaming mound, my fingers gently stroked inside his sweaty crack.
"Fry eggs on those. Are you sorry yet?"
He shook his head so I continued the hiding. For a boy who had never had so much as finger laid on him before, Shannon was proving to be a tough little customer. A further volley of blows rained down onto his defenceless orbs.
"Sorry, yet?"
"Nuh".
'Right. Over onto your back".
I positioned my nephew with his legs raised high in the air. His wedding tackle was limp and appeared to have shrunk inside its uncut skin. His face was contorted with agony. The carnal dynamics of dominance and submission had given me a raging hard-on which tented my trousers. Again and again I snaked the belt across his flogged buttocks. The hurt of each fresh lick was reflected in Shannon's face. I doubted he needed to shave yet.
"Still not sorry?"
"Nuh, ugh".
So, I positioned him face down, on top of two pillows with his blazing behind sticking up in the air. I felt the scorched flesh. He gasped and unclenched his cheeks allowing my fingers to stray into his sweat-filled trench.
Then I got busy with the belt again. No longer doubled, the full length of the leather tenderised parts of his posterior which had previously escaped punishment. He wriggled but did not attempt to evade the punishing belt. I had lit such a fire in his backside I swear it was close to smoking.
Finally, we reached the point where the hurt became too much for him to bear and he whimpered 'sorry'.
I threw down the belt, took him in my arms and planted a kiss on his damp forehead.
"You were a brave little soldier". The words my father always said to me after a hiding. "Now get under the covers for a while until you recover".
I left the room.
Some considerable time later Shannon returned to the living room. fully dressed. I arranged a time for him to start at the factory. The youth squirmed on the chair trying in vain to sit comfortably. We talked about a lot of things that night but never mentioned the ancient ritual we'd acted out in the bedroom.
My nephew proved to be a willing, conscientious worker. His mother confided that she had seen him putting money INTO her purse. I suggested she start charging him board and lodging.
Shannon emailed me his school project. He wrote a glowing report on the efficacy of corporal punishment in the home. Even Ms Chambers could not help but be impressed. She awarded him an A Plus.
Best of all, my nephew now comes to see me whenever he feels the need for a hiding. Of course, I'm always more than happy to oblige!