The family is sitting around the kitchen table eating dinner when your father brings up the subject at hand. "Young man, I want to know why you disobeyed me today and did not mow the lawn as I instructed today?"
Gulping hard you look around the table and see the other members looking at you as you know where this will lead. "Gee Dad, I forget. I mean I got so caught up playing baseball this afternoon that I forgot all about it. I promise I will do it tomorrow".
"Well, then son, what is this about you sassing your mother about it when you got home at 5:00 when she asked you about the lawn. She told me you told her it was none of her business. That kind of talk to your mother will not go un-noticed".
Looking over sheepishly at your mother you tell her you are sorry. The dinner table gets very quiet suddenly when your father puts his fork down, lifts up his index finger and puts it directly into your face.
"Young man, you may think you are too old for it, but when dinner is through, you and I are going to the basement and you, young man are going to get the spanking of your life! Is that understood? I will not have you behave this way and you have earned yourself one hell of a lickin'.
You look at your plate and can feel the shame and embarrassment from being scolded like this in front of your brothers and sister. You can feel the tears walling up in side. Looking over at your father with a pleading look in your eyes you ask, "But dad, can't we work something else out, I mean, I am 15 years old?"
Your father slaps his hand down on the kitchen table hard. "I don't give a _d_a_m_n_ son if you are 25. As long as you are living under my roof, you will do as I say, is that understood?" "Yes sir!"
"And I think for that young man, you can just go to the basement right now and think about the spanking you are going to get. I want you in position when I get there, is that understood? Now go prepare for punishment!"
The table is instantly quiet as your siblings watch you stand sheepishly embarrassed. As you stand up you mumble something about this not being fair or something almost inaudible. Yet your father heard something.
"What was that young man?"
"Nothing sir!"
"Nothing my ass, come here!" and your father pulls his chair back from the table quickly, grabs you by the front of your pants and pulls you roughly over his lap and begins spanking you on your baseball pants which you still have on.
Smack, Wham, Smack, Wham, Smack,Smack, Wham, Wham, and he hauls you off his lap. "Get the hell into the basement young man. This is not going to be an easy one for you".
Totally ashamed and humiliated you open the door to the basement which is right there in the kitchen and walk slowly down the stairs. Your hand is on your butt as those few well placed smacks began to make your butt hurt. But you know it has just begun.
You know the routine all too well, and though it is rare that a basement discipline session is ordered you know it will be a hard one. You walk over to the workbench and see the old hassock. The leather on it is old and cracked. You pull it out into the center of the work area. Looking around you see an old towel on the washing machine and grab it, fold it and put it on top of the hassock so the old leather doesn't scratch you.
You look over at the peg board over the workbench and wince. There are the implements your father uses on you and your brother. First is the worn leather razor strop which his father used on him when he was a boy. Next to that is your fathers fraternity paddle from college, and finally another little paddle which he used on you when you were a little boy.
Reaching back you feel the heat coming from your butt but you know the routine all too well. You reach down and undo your pants and pull them down and off and hang them on a nail at the bottom of the stairs so that when your father comes down he can see them clearly. You pull your baseball jersey over your head and lay it on the workbench. It is chilly in the basement and your tight white little jockey shorts do little to comfort you. But as you know from the past, that is all you are to have on when your father comes down.
Rubbing your bottom one last time you lower yourself over the old hassock, spreading your arms out in front of you and your legs dangling off the back of it. It is this position you had better be in when he comes down. Now is the time you hate. The waiting. Waiting in this position, dressed in nothing but your jockeys, knowing you will be strapped soundly is horrible. You don't know how long it will be but you can clearly hear the family still in the kitchen just a few feet away, and you know they all know what you are doing.
You hear the chairs move upstairs after about five minutes and know that dinner is over and your punishment will begin shortly. From the top of the basement stairs you clearly hear your father tell your mother and the rest of the family, "I will be in the basement teaching John about doing his chores on time'. You gulp hard as you hear his work boots descending the basement stairs. You clench your butt cheeks together tightly out of automatic reaction as your father comes over to the workbench. You can't even look at him and stare at the floor but you know he is directly behind you looking down on your jockey clad butt.
"Look what we have here. My naughty boy John waiting for his spanking". Just hearing these words sends shivers down your spine. Your father walks over to the peg board and retrieves the strap.
"You know son, I thought we might have been done with this sort of punishment by now, but I guess it is something you need. A good firm ass lickin. Yup, this razor strap sure has come in handy."
Your father is standing over to your left side and you can see his work boots as he positions himself. From the sounds you hear you know he is doubling the strap in his hand and getting ready.
"Young man, this is going to hurt and is for your own good. I intend to make an impression on you if it's the last thing I do. Is that understood?
"Yes daddy", you say quietly as you shake on the hassock.
"Go ahead son, what else do you have to say?"
You are nervous. One of the things your father has always required is for each of his sons to ASK for the strapping.
"Daddy, I am sorry I was a naughty boy and did not do my chores. Please strap my butt hard daddy so I will learn to obey!" and you begin to cry in shame.
"Prepare yourself son" WHAM, with a few seconds pause, WHAM, again, SPLAT, WHAM, SMACK, over and over and over your father brings that heavy strap down on your jockey clad bottom and you begin to howl.
"Pleeeeaaaseeeee, Oooooowwwwwww, stoooopppp ittt Dadddyyyyyyyy"
Wham, SMAck, WHAM, SMACK over and over and you begin to cry and kick hysterically. After nearly 30 licks with the strap, the crying, the moaning, the pain, your father stops, yet you lay there and cry hard from the lickin. Your legs are still kicking in the air but you are aware he has stopped. You lay there and know everyone in the kitchen has heard everything and you cry harder in shame and pain.
"Young man, I am sorry I had to do that to you, but you brought it all on yourself" and you hear him walk around you and hang the strap back up on the peg.
'Stand up young man" which you do very gingerly. This is probably the worst of the spanking. Your father reaches around you and pulls your jockey shorts down in the back, exposing your well strapped butt. It is red and swollen.
"Good, looks like I have made an impression upon you. But just to make sure..." and your father uses his hand and slaps your uncovered butt a dozen times as hard as he can, making you howl and scream from the pain of it.
The final slap has come and gone and you stand there sobbing as your father reaches over and hugs you. "I am sorry son I had to do that but I hope you know it is only in your best interest." "Yes, (sob) Dad, (sob), Thank you for spanking me (sob, sob)."
"Fine, now lets go upstairs". This is usually the hardest part of the punishment. You take the jersey off the work bench, walk over and take the baseball pants off the hook and walk up the stairs. The final part of the punishment is that you have to go into the kitchen, living room or where ever the family is and show them you were duly spanked. They are all waiting in the kitchen as you mount the stairs and your father turns you around and pulls your jockeys down in the back.
"Now, let this be a lesson to all of you. You do not do your chores, your butts will look like your brothers here, red, spanked and swollen".
Pulling up your briefs your father slaps you once hard on the butt...."get up to bed son".