Previously...
I turned to face Dad. He was looking down and I was looking up out of the top of my eyes. He spoke quietly to me.
"I never did give you a spanking on your bare bottom, did I?"
I shook my head. My hands were in my pockets.
"Your fifteenth birthdays coming up pretty soon isnt it?"
"Yes sir"
He paused and was thinking for awhile with his hand still on my shoulder.
"Before your birthday comes."
He looked to the floor and nodded his head as if he were seeing the scene in his own minds eye.
"Im going to take your pants and underpants down"
Then he looked at me with resolve.
"Im going to take you over my knee"
He showed me his cupped hand.
"And Im going to give you a blistering youll never forget."
I felt the tingling surge.
"Im going to give you time to think about that son."
..........................
I spent a lot of time reflecting on Dads words over the following weeks. I knew for certain that he would make good on his promise to spank my bare bottom. When Dad said I was going to get a spanking there was one thing you could bet on and that was that I was going to get a spanking. That meeting hanging ahead of me was needless to say, "food for thought." Dad knew that it would be when he told me. I had never received a bare bottom spanking from him before and was feeling a little conflicted over the prospect. My emotions ranged from anger to worry and frustration to a more stimulated state of horniness. There was something about the thought of my fathers strict discipline that has always given me a hard dick but this too carries its own brand of anxiety. I remember one time during that period of deferment when Dad came up behind me while I was sitting alone and staring down at the ground deep in thought and he grabbed hold of the muscle between my neck and shoulder and gave me a firm squeeze. He didnt need to tell me that he knew what I was mulling over. There was an unspoken knowing between us and his grip was meant to let me know that he was right there with me.
At night in bed I began having fantasies about the spanking that was on the way. Id pop a boner when I recalled the tone of Dads voice and the certainty of his forewarning. It was stimulating to imagine myself bared and bent over my fathers knee. The more days and nights that passed, the more intense the ache became. To heighten the sensations I was experiencing I began a nightly ritual of stacking my pillows in the center of the bed, pulling my pajama bottoms down off of my ass then bending over the pillows. Just assuming the position for an over the knee spanking would give me a rush. Id reach around to rub the surface of my ass to enhance the feeling. This behavior combined with imagining being spanked by my father would always produce a very nice hard on. I did some serious jacking off on those nights while I anticipated that spanking. Sometimes I would stroke my pole while bent over and shoot off into a hand towel. Other times I would sit on the edge of the bed and lean back on one elbow while jerking straight up so that I could watch my aching red hard on erupt. I was amazed by the force at which those warm white ribbons of jism would fly into the air before falling back down onto my belly.
The longer I waited for Dad to make good on his promise the more intense the feelings of anxiety, rebellion and lust got. I started feeling guilty about the jacking off and tried to abstain from it, but not allowing myself to release turned me into a fidgety basket case. Thats when I started acting up in school. To make a long story short; it was a stunt I pulled in the cafeteria that resulted in one of my female schoolmates wearing her lunch instead of eating it which further resulted in my being called to the principals office. I was given a stern talking to by the principal who expressed his deep regret at not being allowed to paddle me himself and was given a note to take home and be signed by my father.
Things were coming to a head. Id been given the note on a Friday and I fretted over it for the entire weekend before working up the courage to show it to Dad. It was Sunday afternoon after my mom had left to drop my younger brother Clay off at his friends house then go on to her ladies group meeting that met twice a month after church. Dad and I where home alone. We hadnt changed out of our church cloths yet. Alone in my room I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. I still had on my dress knit church pants and black leather shoes and a white cotton undershirt that was shrunken just like all of my undershirts from too many washes so that it was binding under my armpits and the hem hardly reached my waist. I retrieved the note out from deep in the back of my homework desk drawer where Id hidden it then sat at my desk with my head down for awhile and started to get up a few times before figuring out it wasnt going to get any easier. I finally brought the note to my dad in the living room where hed planted himself comfortably in his favorite chair in front of the T. V. to watch the football game. I slouched with my hands in my pockets and sort of rubbed the sole of my black leather shoe against the carpet while he read the note with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. When I looked up sheepishly he had finished reading it and was watching me intently with a serious look of disappointment on his face.
"Why didnt you show me this sooner son?"
I looked down at my shoes again and did some more rubbing with my sole and when I looked up again his stare hadnt changed. This time I didnt look away. I bit my upper lip and sort of grinned and shrugged in response but his attention still didnt shifted. Im not sure if it was my conscious intention at the time, but I was saying with my posture and expression what I couldnt say with words, and that was "Im ready for my spanking Dad."
"What do you think we should do about this?"
I was finding it difficult to vocalize so I just shrugged my shoulders with my hands still in my pockets. Holding my hands in my pockets like that pulled the seat of my pants snug up against my ass. After a moment of uneasy silence, Dad slapped his hands down on the armrests of his recliner, lifted himself up and onto his feet with exaggerated effort.
"Alright; lets go boy."
He walked me to his study with his hand set firmly on my shoulder. In the study, I stood in front of his desk with my hands still in my pockets while he went around and fished the paddle out from the bottom drawer where he always kept it. Up until then Dad had always taken me over his knee for my spankings and burned me with his hand and always on the seat of my pants. Hed never used the paddle on me or my younger brother before but wed both seen it and been well informed that it would be used on us when we got big enough. Hed told us how his Pop used the very same paddle to make a man out of him when he was a boy and had given it to him to take and keep with him as a reminder when he moved away from home. Now he held the hand paddle and looked at it as if nursing the memory of its sting and all the lessons Grandpa had taught him with it "the hard way." The paddle was 16" long including the handle, 3" wide and a half inch thick. As the story went, Dad had cut it out and sanded it smooth himself at the age of twelve according to Grandpas specifications. He walked back around the desk slowly to where I was, all the time looking at the paddle and testing the weight and balance of it in his hand. I was standing with my head lowered staring at the desktop when he came around beside me, put his hand back on my shoulder, and set the paddle down on the desk before me where my gaze was already resting. Then he gripped down on my neck muscle and gave me the familiar squeeze.
"You see that boy?"
I nodded my head up and down slowly. I was still biting my upper lip. He pointed to the paddle.
"In just a minute Im going to be introducing the business end of that paddle to your bare behind, and let me tell you from experience, you – are – going – to – feel – it."
I felt the familiar inner turmoil of fear combating exhilaration, only at that moment fear had the upper hand. Even though Dad spoke quietly his voice was unfaltering and there wasnt a hint of uncertainty in the tone in which he addressed me. The quietness of his voice assured me that our meeting was just between the two of us. Customarily, this part of the "meeting" was to let me know how my punishment would proceed and what was expected of me. It was how the instructional periods before my spankings always were. The discussion beforehand was also used to clarify why I was being punished and the changes in my behavior that "would – be – seen – as – a – result."
"If theres one thing I wont tolerate from you boy, its a note of poor deportment from school."
My heart was beginning to beat more rapidly and I felt like I was slowly being pulled up the first hill on a rollercoaster knowing full well the certainty of the ride that lay ahead.
"If you only take one thing away from this experience son, I want it to be the sure and certain knowledge that "Im the boss and I will NOT tolerate misbehavior from you, here or elsewhere, do – you – understand?""
I nodded my head and my brow grew heavy. His measured out words and the sternness of his voice were making me feel really nervous. What had I gotten myself into? I hadnt anticipated the paddle. Dad had always warned that it would be instituted after my fifteenth birthday but that was still a couple of months away. I guess the gravity of my offence awarded me an early initiation. I watched Dad unbutton his shirt sleeves and roll them up off of his forearms while he spoke.
"You got something you want to say boy? Youre being awful quiet."
I felt a heaviness building in my heart. I looked down and shook my head no.
"Alright then, to start off Ill be taking your britches down. Ive given it some thought and I think that it will make more of an impression on you for me to be the one to pull down your pants rather than you doing it yourself."
The imaginary roller coaster had reached the top of the hill and was beginning its first drop. The feeling overwhelmed me. I broke away and left the room with tears beginning to well up in my eyes. Dad barked at me.
"Paul, get back here!"
I didnt run but walked quickly out of the room shaking my head. Dad was right on my tail so I slid into the kitchen and crawled under the breakfast table. Sitting on the floor, I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them. My whole body had begun to shake uncontrollably and I began to cry from someplace deep inside. There where silent outpourings of tears followed by raspy intakes of breath. I heard the sound of the paddle being set down on the table above me and then Dad squatted down to my level and reached under to take hold of my arm. His voice was consoling.
"Come on out from under there son."
My voice was tearful.
"I...Ill be good Dad."
He didnt pull me out, just kept hold of me while I held the tension between us. He was giving me time to come out on my own. At that moment, the thought of having Dad see me cry felt worse than any paddling could have ever felt. As a young boy, I had cried during my spankings but in recent years I was proud to have learned to take them like a man. I guess knowing that I was about to be paddled bare added a certain intensity to the situation because on this particular occasion I was embarrassed to find that I couldnt control the tears.
"Come on out son. I know your feeling pretty low right now but this is just between you and me."
Thankfully my little brother wasnt there to witness. Finally I crawled out on my hands and knees with Dad still gripping my upper arm. My face was hot and my cheek muscles were aching and salt stinging wet. Dad sat himself down on one of the kitchen chairs and reeled me in by the front waist line of my pants to stand directly before him in the V that his legs made. I pleaded tearfully while he took control.
"Dad...?"
His voice sounded calm but had a no nonsense quality to it just the same.
"Time for talk is over pal."
He spoke quietly but succinctly during the process of unfastening my belt, unsnapping my pants, unzipping my fly and taking my pants down.
"I – am – going – to – warm – your – bottom – young man."
His face was set sternly and when he wasnt speaking his mouth was shut tight and I could hear his breath whistling through his nostrils. Ill never forget that moment when he masterfully tucked his thumbs under the waistband of my underpants and pulled them down. He brought them down in a series of sharp tugs, all the way down to my ankles, in a manner that allowed me to feel both the strength of his arms and his determination. I both instantly and to this day understand what he had meant by the impression that would be made by baring me himself. A draft in the room brushed my naked seat and thighs and my stomach felt like it was full of fluttering butterflies. He immediately stood up and grabbed the paddle off of the table and took my by the arm with his other hand. I looked down and shook my head, still fighting unsuccessfully to regain control over the tearful outpourings. He took me in tow, leading me out of my moms kitchen where Id chosen to run and hide. The paddling would be on his terms at the location of his choice. I had to take short quick steps in order to keep up with him.
"This might seem kind of tough but youve been cruising for a good paddling for some time now and Ive got a bit of news for you young man; your going to get it just as soon as we get to your room."
My pants rustled with each quick little step and my dragging belt buckle rang and clacked across the hard wood floors. He continued to instruct me while dragging me across the house that way.
"One of the things that I remember clearly about the paddlings my Pop gave me where the walks I took to the woodshed with my pants around my ankles. Ive come to believe that it was an important part of my training and I intend for you to experience the same feeling."
The raspy intakes came more quickly and it seemed like I was fighting for air amidst the helpless outpouring. It made me feel little and ridiculous to be crying while he walked me like that and to make it worse, a couple of times I got tripped by the bundle of pants around my ankles and Dad had to hold me up by my arm while I got my feet back under me. We passed through the living room past his study and down the hallway into my room where Dad shut the door behind us.
"This room is a mess."
The tone in his voice was shaming now and I continued to cry while he was took me into position for my first stand up paddling.
"Your mom and brother are gone for the afternoon so you yell and struggle all you want because youre in capable hands right now boy. You hear me? Understand that. I – am – able – to – handle – you. "
Hed turned me around bent me over standing and pressed up against his side while he instructed. Dad had an unnerving technique of speaking proudly and frankly about my punishment while doling it out.
"See; the object here is to apply the paddle squarely and sharply. Now, hold on to me boy."
My mouth was open like a dead cats frozen in horror and tears were streaming down my cheeks.
Then he set that paddle down on my seat with a loud CRACK!
"How was that?"
Breathless; my eyes widened into circles and it was like I was experiencing a powerful new kind of awakening while Dad stoked a fire back there.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "AHHHHHHHH!"
The pain to my ass was severe and my whole body tensed. I silently strained against him as much as I could with little effect while he continued to deliver what he referred to as a "my first good solid paddling."
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "AHHHHHHHH!"
The swats landed at a steady even paced rhythm.
"Well, what do you think boy?"
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "Wait a Minute!!!"
I did all that I could do which was to lift my feet up off of the ground so that I slid out of position and onto my knees.
"Get back up."
I was begging for relief time and the sound of panic in my voice surprised even me.
"Wait a minute Dad!"
"Stand...Up."
"Oh Dad, I dont think I can take it!"
"Oh youre going to take it all right."
He lifted me up off the ground and scissored my legs immobile between his thighs and my feet were off of the ground and he was standing and holding me like that so that I was pinned and there was no way I could move and then he proceeded again with the paddling.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "OWWWWWWW!"
"See that? Old Dads got a few tricks up his sleeve." CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "OWWWW...OWWWW...OWWWWW!"
I was wrapped around him and holding myself up with my hands clenching the belt and waistline of the back of his trousers. Holding on that way was tugging the waist of his pants down some off of the top of his ass so that my knuckles were pressing through his shirt tail into the upper half of his butt cheek where I could feel the powerful muscle there contract. When I finally gave sound to the outpouring of tears I was ashamed to hear the high pitch of my voice sounding like a little cry baby.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The session continued for awhile and I know it took a lot of strength and balance for him to hold me still like that and give me that paddling.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "WAAAAA....HAAAAAA....HAAAAAA....HAAAAA!"
And let me tell you, it wasnt just my seat that was on fire; my whole body was on fire.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
After hed given my bare bottom a good lengthy introduction to paddle, Dad let me down and stepped back to face me. My knees buckled but he kept a firm grip on my upper arm holding me up and leaned down to my level. I continued to bawl out loud and he had to give me time to pull myself together before beginning his counseling.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"Try to calm yourself down son."
"YOU DIDNT HAVE TO DO IT SO HAAAAARD!"
That sounded overdramatic and I became instantly embarrassed.
"Im sorry about this son but its the only way Im going to get a handle on you. Youd be wise to see to it that youre NEVER sent home with a note like that from school again."
Then he held the paddle up between us and motioned with it to emphasize the crucial points of his lesson for me. Slowly and with effort I gained control and began assuming my role as attentive son, showing him due respect and humility with my posture and expression. I was thankful for the break and used the time out to rub my sore rear while I paid attention to what he had to tell me. I guess Dads medicine was working since attention and obedience seemed the natural instinctive progression for my behavior to take. I was curious to find that the paddling had left me with sort of a shell of hardened skin that capped both my ass cheeks.
"Now you know the leverage Ill use on you if I have to, dont you boy?"
He nodded and his eyes were open wide when he said that as if to convey his understanding of what I was experiencing. My voice was tearful and quavering and punctuated by short raspy intakes of breath.
"Yes...hic...sir."
"Alright; now that was your paddling for not minding yourself at school."
I nodded my head, still rubbing my soreness, trying to display as much attentiveness and obedience as I could. I really didnt want to rile him up any more.
"Now; a few weeks ago I promised you that I was going to take you over my knee and spank your bare bottom like I should have done when you were a little boy."
"Yes sir."
"Well, youre going to take that trip over old Dads knee right now son."
My face scrunched up and the tears began to flow again.
"Mind you; this is a separate spanking that youve been in store for since before your misbehavior in the school cafeteria. As a matter of fact, I think its safe to say that the spanking Im going to administer now is long overdue."
With my pants and underpants still around my ankles, he shuffle walked me to my homework desk where he set the paddle down, pulled the chair out and turned it around and set it down in one motion. He tugged up on his pant leg while sitting himself down in the chair and authoritatively pulled me across his lap.
"Ive given you some time to think about this as part of your lesson but your time has come now so heres the spanking I promised you."
He began administering as hard a hand spanking as I had ever received. Id been over Dads knee before but this was the first time his hand had ever made contact with my bare skin seat. Bent over with my head lower than the rest of me, I could feel my face flush while I stared upside down at his black leather dress shoe and thin black ribbed dress sock hugging his ankle and lower calf. All the mannerisms surrounding that spanking were embarrassingly tailored for a boy younger than me. In retrospect, I can see that an important factor of that particular punishment was to humble me through humiliation. Irregardless; it stung like the dickens.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP "AWWWWWWWW DAD!"
There, bared and turned over Dads lap, taking the hardest, loudest hand licking of my life on my already flaming hot bottom, I was feeling just about as sore and tender as any boy ever felt over a spanking. I kicked my feet as hard as I could but the range of motion was short and quick since my feet were restrained by my pulled down pants.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP "OWWW...DADDY!!.....OWCH!!"
If Dads purpose was to bring me down a few pegs with that spanking, and I think that was at least part of it, then he was successful in his mission. Part of my calling him Daddy instead of Dad was to indicate my willingness to be brought back to an earlier stage.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP "DADDY DADDY IT HURTS DADDY!"
In all of the fantasies leading up to that moment, Id failed to anticipate the total lack of control I was experiencing. I continued kicking and bawling like a little six year old until my face was wet with fresh tears and snot.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
He spanked me that way until I was numb. Then I stopped the kicking and bawling while Dads hand was still falling squarely and loudly on my bare bottom. I was still breathing heavily and my heart was racing but the pain was thankfully replaced by a simple warmth. I began to relax into the spanking, allowing my bottom to giggle with the slaps more freely, and in doing so a feeling of euphoria began to wash over me.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP
For the first time since the punishment began, I found myself in that place of total peace that I had fantasized about all those nights alone in bed. Dad must have read the signs. He stopped momentarily to take off his shirt so that he was less constrained. His words for me were quiet, confident and resolute.
"Were going to stay here and work on this for a little while son."
I turned my head to the side and looked up to him out of the corner of my eye. My father was a big man. Although he wasnt chiseled and tanned the way some fathers were hard outdoor work, he was well proportioned. He had on a white ribbed sleeveless undershirt that hugged his torso. His upper arms were meaty but pale from underexposure. He took a little bit of time to scoot my thighs forward so that my bottom was lifted up more. I lowered my head repentantly when he resumed popping me just as good and hard as he had from the start.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP
There was something about that spanking that centered and calmed me. It was a quality of basicness. Now that Id stopped crying, there was a silence in the room that filled the brief spaces between loud pops. The even rhythm had a hypnotic effect on me. Dad was in tune with my feelings; I could tell by the way he lowered his voice almost to a mumble to interject thoughts that he was coming up with during the spanking knowing full well that it was a good time for me to receive and store valuable information. We were walking through that spanking together, me in my role and him in his.
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP "I expect a little less stubbornness...
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP ...from you when it comes to doing your chores."
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP "Dont – be – making – me – tell – you – two –
SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP...SLAP and – three – times – to – take – out – the – trash."
He took me through another resituating. This time he simply slid his right leg out from under my thighs and scooted me forward so that I was bent over just the one knee with my legs hanging straight down and my knees bent with the tops of my shoes resting on the floor. The shift accomplished two things. I was bent over at a sharper angle and he was able to lean over and get a more powerful horizontal swing. The swats came harder and more rapidly.
SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP "And furthermore, I expect you to – stop – teasing –
SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP your – little – brother – and – take – a – little –
SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP more – responsibility – for – being – a – good –
SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP..SLAP role – model – for – him.
"Get up."
Dad stopped spanking me long enough for the both of us to get up. He planted his left foot down on the seat of that chair tugged at his pant leg and told me to hold on to his leg. I leaned forward with my belly against his thigh and bent over his knee still standing and holding on with my arms while he leaned over to pick the paddle up off of the desktop. He was pretty worked up and I felt like I was in store for something severe. He leaned forward and wrapped his left arm around me from behind and lifted me up so that I was standing on my tip toes and went to work popping my rear with that old paddle again.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "OWWWWWWWW!"
The paddle stung more than the hand spanking, but not nearly as much as it had at the start since my ass had already been burned numb.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK
Dad compensated for the numbness by taking the paddling up a notch both in speed and hardness.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "OWWWWWW DAD!"
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "You – are – going – to – have – one – sore – time – sitting
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK down – when – I – get – done – with – you."
I started hopping up and down on my toes, instinctively bouncing the plump of my ass for relief. My voice had a reverberating affect when I did this.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...CRACK "OK OK OK POP!....IVE LEARNED MY LESSON!"
It was strange, Id never called him Pop before that moment and I did it without even thinking about it. Pop is what hed always called his own dad and the title had come out of my mouth with nothing but the deepest respect and honor for him. He must have heard something in my voice that indicated a successful realignment in my thinking had taken place because he released me and set the paddle back down on the desk and instructed me flatly.
"Come here."
Hed taken his foot down off of the chair, picked it up by the back and while carrying it with one hand he took me by the arm with the other, lifting up on me so that my shoulder was pointing up, and proudly led me to the corner where he set the chair down hard facing the corner and brought me around to sit my bare bottom down in the chair.
"You sit just like that and face the corner for a little while and think about what weve discussed and how your rear end feels right now."
I was out of breath.... "Yes...ss...sir."
Then he left me there alone to think about it. Boy oh boy; Id been over Dads knee more times and as far back as I could remember, but nothing could have prepared me, not even in my fantasies, for the warming I just took. My ass was throbbing and I wiped me eyes and nose off on my undershirt sleeve. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided Id take a chance and sneak a peek in the mirror real quick. I got up and shuffled over to my closet door mirror and turned around and looked over my shoulder at my butt. WOW! Id gotten myself a blistering all right. Both ass cheeks were as ripe and red as a tomato skin and the area around the crown of each cheek was frosted and dry looking from the wear and tear. I looked for a little while then shuffled back to my chair in the corner. The numbness was beginning to wear off unfortunately and I winced at the sting when I sat down. Being forced to sit was punishment in itself where if I had had my way I would have probably refrained from sitting for a couple of days. I tilted up off of my right cheek and put my hand down there to gently cup the sorest spot. I felt the familiar arousal at the lower end of my shaft and it didnt take me long sitting there rubbing my sore bare bottom to pop a boner. I picked up a sock off of the floor nearby and put my dick inside it and began to pump my pud. I wanted to hurry up and ejaculate before my dad came back and found me that way. While I jacked off I thought about the trip Id just taken over his knee, the tone hed taken with me, and the sound the spanking had made. The release was as satisfying as any I had ever had. I turned around in the chair and tossed the wet sock under the bed. Dad had instructed me to sit and think and when he returned a half an hour later he found me sitting there with my bare bottom flat on the chair with my pants still around my ankles, leaning forward facing the corner resting my chin on my fist like Auguste Rodins statue "The Thinker".
He slapped his hand down firmly on my shoulder and gave me a manly shake.
"Well, what do you think boy? Think you can manage to keep yourself out of trouble from here on in?"
"Yes sir."
"OK then, you can get up and pull your britches back up and start picking up this room."
I got up from the chair and bent over and pulled my underpants and pants up over my sore ass and fastened them back up again. Dad stood over me while I went around the room picking up my dirty cloths and other junk I had left lying around. Even though I was sort of limping from the soreness I made it a point to hustle and was especially attentive about doing things that he pointed out for me to do. While I worked I kept looking up to meet his eyes, searching for approval with my expression and must have said "Yes sir" twenty times while he was in there with me. It helped me inside to show Dad the obedience that was due him. It felt good to be his freshly paddled son. Whenever I bent over to pick something up my ass would press up snug against the seat of my pants and the rawness back there made me wince. One time when Dad noticed me grimace like that I made a point to reached around behind me and rub my ass while he was still watching.
"Got yourself a sore rear there huh?"
I raised my eyebrows and took in a deep breath.
"Yes sir."
"Well thats ok, you needed that paddling and it seems to have done you some good. Well see how long it tides you over before you need another one."
With that he gave me a wink. Dad left me with the card with his signature to give to my principal. Hed included a note in the comments section which read:
"Thank you for calling my attention to Pauls misbehavior. Please be informed that I have discussed this matter with my son and that the proper adjustment has been made. I dont expect that you will be having any further problems with Paul in the near future but please notify me if such is the case."
I required several more spankings and paddlings from my Dad after that; some were administered on the seat of my pants and others for more serious infractions were applied to my bare bottom. Even though those meetings with Dad left me sore at the time, I still get a hard on looking back and recalling the details.