My friend Pete and I were detained for two hours in our towns mall security office for trying to lift some baseball cards from the sports memorabilia shop. I had the unnerving experience of witnessing Petes dad haul him out of the detention room red faced and pissed off. After that there was the familiar sound of my own dads voice at the desk in the next room talking to the security guard. I sat quietly and tried to hear what was being said, catching bits and pieces of the louder phrases like....
"...when I was a boy..."
...and
"...good old fashion discipline..."
...all of which were coming from the apprehending officer who I had already dubbed the nicknamed "Deputy Fife". My dad didnt speak for the entire trip home which worried me and I stole glances at his face for some hint of emotion. I thought it best to remain quiet myself and used the time to formulate my explanation which basically pinned the guilt entirely on Pete. Im sure Pete was spinning a similar yarn with me staring as the culprit at that very moment. As soon as we got home, Dad broke the silence by telling me to go to my room and followed me there to deal with me promptly. I was surprised by the tone of his voice when he finally did speak. He didnt seem angry, just real serious and it gave me a glimmer of hope that I might be able to talk my way out of trouble.
"All right Son, were going to have a little talk now, you and me. I want to hear from you what happened. All you have to do is tell me the truth son."
I presented the case I had rehearsed in my mind as convincingly as I could. My story was riddled with half truths and even a few outright lies that I had constructed and played over in my head, practicing my delivery for the sake of realism.
"...Dad, Im telling you I didnt do anything. It was Pete that took the cards. I didnt know what was going on until the security officer pulled us aside."
He pointed straight at me.
"Your lying to me boy."
"No Im not Dad!"
"Ok son, sometimes its hard to admit when we make a mistake and it takes a little helpful encouragement."
Dad stood up and started to bring me up by the arm. I resisted.
"I want you to get up out of that chair son."
"NO!"
I kept up with the resistance and my arm was like a leash thats attached to an inexperienced puppy. Dad kept his hold on me though and didnt force me although I know he could have. He spoke gently but with determination.
"Come on Son, Im going to warm up your rear end. Ive gone easy on you in the past, partly because I dont like it any more than you do, but this time you ARE going to get a spanking."
He was leading me so gently and I dont know if that made it easier or more difficult. He kept his grip on me and I held the tension between us.
"Go ahead and take a little time to work it out in your head son."
Now, I was at an age where I was very self conscious and just about everything I did and said was purposefully meant to support an "image" I wanted to create for myself. My mannerisms; the way I walked and the way I talked had to be "bad" and being bent over and spanked on my butt by my dad, well, it just didnt fit that image. Dad was determined though and after a little while he began coaxing me with little tugs. It wasnt until he lifted me with his other hand under my armpit that I reluctantly stood up. After some manipulation I found myself bent over and pressed against his side with his arm holding me around my rib cage. Then he spent a good long minute dusting the seat of my pants.
Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop
The spanking was firm and hurt some but I realize now that it was intentionally toned down; tailored to just get my attention. The real pain was to my ego.
Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop
I felt so outraged by the treatment that my face got hot, but I wasnt about to let Dad know how mad I was. I tried hard to regain my "cool image" by shaking my head with a wise ass smirk on my face and thought about how corny and old fashioned he was.
Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop
Every once in awhile Dad would break stride in order to cinch his hold down further on me and hike my ass back up into position. Then hed lay it on me some more. I truly hated him when he did this.
Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop
I was totally humiliated and vowed to myself that I would make him regret it.
Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop
He let go of his hold on me and took me by the upper arm.
"Hmmmph....OK"
He sounded so satisfied and self assured and that only made me more furious. I refused to look straight at him and was breathing heavily. I watched him with my peripheral vision though and noticed him raise his eyebrow sensing my anger then look down at my puffed out chest. He kept me under control with that hold and directed me back to my chair, speaking cautiously as if he was a little afraid I might lash out.
"All right son, lets sit back down and try this again."
Even though I was insulted and angry beyond words he maintained control of me with that grip on my arm.
"Take a little time to cool off son."
In hindsight I realize he was being extremely patient with me, skillfully working together with me through my arrogance and stubbornness. He let go of his grip when I began to relax and put his hand on my shoulder.
I opened my mouth a little and took deep breaths. I still wouldnt look at him though.
"Lets try this again son?"
The next words were deliberate and spaced apart.
"What...Happened."
I crossed my arms and snorted while shaking my head.
"Take your time and think it through."
I looked at him just long enough to throw out my accusation.
"You never believe me!"
He tried to catch my eye.
"You havent told me what happened."
"I didnt even know the cards were in my pack and that fat ass guard wouldnt listen to me when I tried to tell him I didnt put them there!"
He tried to meet my eyes while I shouted.
"Why cant you look at me boy?"
I was beginning to think my dad was psychic or something. He seemed to be able to see right through my fibbing. I felt intimidated and when I tried to look him in the eye I couldnt. All I could do is look away and shake my head. Wed come to another dead end.
"OK son, Im going to take you to the next stage. I want to let you in on something though. Youre making it rough on yourself."
He lifted me up off of the chair by my upper arm. This time when I resisted he tightened his grip and growled at me.
"Get your butt up."
I was startled into submission and with this new fear there was also a heightened alertness. As soon as I was up out of the chair I was astounded to have him begin unfastening my pants and I put up some more resistance.
"Awww Dad?"
"Take your hands away!"
He leaned over and pulled my pants down and then brought me around into the position I had grown familiar with during the previous stage for another dose of that medicine that fathers know best how to administer only this time it was on the seat of my underpants.
Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap
The swats really smarted but when I tried to work my way free of him I was surprised by the strength of his hold.
Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap
This spanking was delivered in the same manner as the prior but more firmly and I received it with a noticeably heightened sensation of burn to my rear.
Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap
I took note of the upgrade; the added force of the spanking, the increased loudness of the swats, the lengthened duration.
Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap
The seat of my tighty whities hardly seemed to exist under the onslaught, offering surprisingly little protection from the time keeping rhythm of Dads hand.
Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap
Its hard to say which was wearing thin more quickly, the seat of my shorts or my ability to endure the beating quietly.
Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap
After round two was finished I quickly went to work deceiving myself into thinking I was in control since I still wasnt crying but all the muscles of my body slowly tensed as the anger crept back. I reached down slowly to grab my pants and started to pull them up and Dad stopped me with his calm and collected tone.
"No, not just yet son; were going to sit back down here for awhile."
He directed me to my seat again, this time with my pants around my ankles and a more noticeably tender "sitting down area". When he spoke, it was calmly and I could tell he was trying not to set me off.
"Just let that sink in son."
I was insulted by his remark and fidgeted in my seat to try and block it out. Then a moment later...
"Are you ready to talk yet son?"
I was so disgusted by his voice I said nothing.
"No comment?"
Thats right; no comment you old fart, I thought to myself.
"Son, youre a pretty clever young man. I want you to try and figure out what stage three is going to entail."
I felt my blood begin to boil and fidgeted some more. Who did he think he was, treating me like a little kid. What did he know; it was just my word against the security guards. I thought he should just drop it and take my word for it. I whined but wasnt able to make it sound convincing anymore.
"I didnt do it."
"All right son. Im going to tell you something. Youre a good boy. Do you here me? Youve got a stubborn streak too, just like me. The best of men make mistakes son."
He got up from his seat and took me by the arm, lifting me up while continuing the lecture.
"Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to admit when weve made a mistake."
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach and my face became contoured and red as I couldnt hold back the tears from the finality of what I was hearing and knew was coming. I was shaking my head in self loathing at my inability to control myself. When I was all out of breath and had to inhale I made a raspy sound in my throat. I was experiencing the most profound humiliation of my life at that moment and the worst of it hadnt even begun yet.
"Believe it or not I understand how you feel right now boy, but I want you to try and stay with me for this."
His voice wasnt mad, it was consoling as it had been for the whole ordeal. I was crying harder than Id ever cried in my life and still trying not to make any sound. He was leading me across the room and I was taking shuffle steps, trying not to step out of and trip over the bundle pants around my ankles. My vision was blurred through my tears and I was shaking my head slowly in denial of what was taking place.
"For your information; Officer Daniels showed me the security video from the store so that I could see BOTH you and Pete pulling packs of baseball cards for yourselves off of the shelves and stick them in your back pack."
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"
I let go and began to cry out loud as I realized the jig had been up from the very beginning. When Dad and I got to the other side of the room he kept hold of my arm while he pulled a stool that was against the wall out to the floor in front of us. Leaning over me, he hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband of my underpants at the sides and with both hands and took them down with one sharp tug over my ass and a second tug down to my knees. His mouth was closed firmly and I could here his breath whistle through his nostrils.
"You still with me boy?"
I began to cry even louder.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"All you had to do was tell the truth son. I would have gone easy on you. Im sorry you werent able to come clean with me boy. I want you to know that if you ever want to talk about this in the future Im here to listen. If you dont want to talk about it, thats all right too. As for right now, were going to make your "sit down" sore."
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
He had turned me around and wrapped his left arm around my midsection from the back and the other arm wrapped around my bare thighs and he lifted me up off of the ground with me facing the floor while at the same time planting his foot on the stool and turned me suspended over his knee. His words were labored while he exerted himself.
"This is going to be your full punishment for lying to me and after this spanking, you and I are squared. That means after this is over were starting over with a clean slate kido."
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
He didnt get me set right on the first attempt. When he spoke to me the tone of his voice was strained from exertion but completely uninfluenced by the fact that I was crying in panicked gasps.
"I need to get a better grip on you."
"AAAAAAAAAAH...AHHHHH...COUGH...AHHHHHHH!"
When he set me down on my feet my knees gave out. He caught me and took a new hold on me, picked me up and planted me over his knee again. This time I was more naturally balanced and secured in place. He took some time making some minor adjustments to my position by hopping me up with his knee and I had a real sense that my rear end was being properly aligned for something severe. When the maneuvering stopped the sinking feeling in my stomach predominated. I was balanced over my dads knee with my naked ass elevated and legs suspended, knees bent slightly and brushing against one another. The air in the room chilled my already sore bottom and naked thighs.
"Boy, I am going to burn your rear end good."
I cried out at the pain when the spanking commenced immediately and without further warning. The spanking was a hard one, applied confidently and square to my seat.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
"OHHHH..OWWW..OWWW..OWWW!"
"No son of mine is going to sit and tell me a bold face lie."
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
"AHHHHHHH...AHHHHHHH!"
My crying was over exaggerated, throaty and raspy and anyone walking down the hall outside the room would have thought he was killing me. Its funny how in the beginning of the ordeal I was more focused on trying to keep my "cool" while dealing with the humiliation of being controlled and corrected by my father. In the beginning the pain was to my ego and it was good for me that I experienced that. But that whole game I was playing had completely overshadowed the reality of how much a serious bare bottom spanking really would hurt. Suspended over my dads knee taking my spanking, that dose of reality was just beginning to dawn.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
"AHHHH...AHHHH...AHHHH...COUGH!"
Dawn is a wonderful analogy for the sensation that was taking place on my ass. Just as the sun rises over the hills bringing its warmth and glow, a new dawn was rising over my "hills" so to speak.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
And boy let me tell you, that sun she was beginning to burn pretty bright.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
"OWWWW...DAD!"
And when I thought the fire was just as intense as it could get and Dad stoked it up a few more degrees yet...
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
"OWWW...DAD IM NOT KIDDING!"
...I forgot all about my embarrassment and my ego and started to think about how I might avoid having my butt exposed to that fire ever again.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
The spanking went on for so long that there came a point where my ass became numb. I could still sense the shock waves and hear the sound of the slaps but the sensation of burn gave way to numbness and I was able to relax into the spanking. My hollering was replaced by the labored breathing of exhaustion. Dad halted the spanking temporarily and hauled me under his arm to the bed where he sat himself down on the edge and took me over his knee. I was secured under his arm and my feet never touched the ground during the transfer. He continued with the spanking. The first few swats burned and then I relaxed into the numbness again. Im convinced that this continuation of the spanking was for the sole purpose of the residual soreness I would experience after the numbness wore off, kind of like the way a sunburn doesnt start hurting until after youve gotten home from the beach.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
"Youre going to be able to feel this over the next few days."
This statement was delivered much in the same way a doctor speaks when hes telling you what the effects of a procedure or prescribed medicine will be.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
And thats just exactly what Dad did for me that afternoon; gave me the medicine I needed to learn not to tell a lie. The medicine worked too.
After my spanking was over I was allowed to pull my pants back up. I had been alone in my room for about fifteen minutes after Dad left me there to think about it. I was free to go outside if I pleased. I guess I stayed there because I didnt feel like being seen, hiding out you might say. I had picked up my baseball glove and a baseball out of the five gallon paint bucket I kept my ball equipment in and had taken it back to my bed where I laid on my back with my knees up. I was hurling the ball into the glove over and over again. I was still pretty mad but the anger wasnt directed so much at my dad anymore. I was mad at myself for getting caught in a lie, but it was water under the bridge and I couldnt go back and change things to make myself come out looking good. Thats when the first hot needle of pain broke through the numbness and pierced my butt cheek. I got up off the bed with the glove on and giggled my ass to try and shake the discomfort and the needle was joined by ten other hot needles. I stood in front of my bedroom window looking out while the soreness blossomed. I thought about what Dad had told me about the slate being clean while tossing the baseball in my mitt more gently, one hundred hot needles burning my ass. Dad came to the door just then.
"Want to toss a few back and forth champ?"
I didnt turn around to face Dad just yet but I looked down and nodded my head to indicate yes. Even though my bottom was still sore, my anger had begun to dissipate and It was time to move forward and let the healing begin.