Troy Gets Into Trouble

by Steve

The afternoon sun was just starting to set over the asphalt basketball half court that lay midway up the drive from the road to our farmhouse. Like boys all over America in the late fall, the three of us were playing a game of "horse". I was 15 at the time, already tall, lean and well built for my age, and still wearing most of my summer tan. I was playing with my best friend Billy and with Hank, one of our farm hands. Hank, only 21, had worked for us for over a year and had sort of become a big brother to me. We'd been at it almost an hour, and had already stripped off or shirts even though it was a little cool in the late afternoon. In an instant as I heard by dad's truck traveling up the drive and saw the dust trail behind it, my complete pleasure in the game turned into the anxiety I always felt around him.

The dusty red pickup stopped next to the court. Dad climbed out of the cap and walked over to us. "Want to join us, Mr. Smith" Billy innocently asked. He didn't reply, so we all stopped, walking over toward him almost by instinct. Dad was always an imposing figure. He was 41 at the time but looked almost 10 years younger. His 6'1" frame was well muscled, the kind of muscles you get not from the health club but from a life of hard work. His brown hair was always crew cut and he had sideburns a little too long for the current style, not that he cared. That day he wore his usual uniform of well worn Levi's, work boots, and a work shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing his massive hands and arms.

"Troy" he asked me, "what's going on here, son?"

"Just a game of horse, Dad."

"What's the rule about work before play?"

"What do you mean, sir?" I cautiously asked. I knew conversations like this usually ended with me getting into trouble about something.

"Didn't I tell this morning to trim the hedges at the end of the drive?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, you didn't do it, did you?"

"But Dad, I really didn't know you meant it had to be done today."

"I said do it today, Troy."

"Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't hear that part. I'll get to it right now." I was really embarrassed that he was scolding me like this in front of Billy and Hank.

"I've had enough of your convenient hearing. You seem to hear what you want to. I'm going to have to punish you for being disobedient and playing before doing your work."

"Please, Dad, I really didn't hear"

"Shut up son or you're only going to make it worse on yourself. Not get up to the barn and prepare yourself."

I turned beet red. I couldn't believe he was doing this in front of my friends. Of course, Billy knew my dad spanked me, but we'd never discussed the details. Hank had been around for a year, but whatever he'd heard, he'd never said anything about it to me.

At this point I knew the best thing was just to give in and do what he said. I dropped the basketball and it bounced a few times on the pavement. "See you guys, later, I said, trying to avoid eye contact with either of them.

"Not so fast, guys" said Dad. "You were all a part of this and I think it's only fair to see it to the end."

"Dad" I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I can't punish Billy, but he sure as hell is going to see what kind of trouble he helped get you into. The same goes for Hank since he's become so friendly with you." he said with a grin.

"Dad, PLEASE, don't punish me in front of them."

"Son, you just bought yourself an extra 10 - want to keep going.?

I knew not to say anything else. I hoped at least he'd go easy on me in front of the others. I just started walking toward the barn in defeat, my head down, and motioned for them to follow me. When we got to the old barn, Billy asked what was going on. I explained that I was about to get my ass whipped and that apparently he and Hank were going to witness the whole event. I asked him just to stand in corner and not say anything.

I got everything ready. I moved a large hay bale into the middle of the main barn room and covered it an old horse blanket. Next, I set dad's old wood chair across from the bale. I positioned the small table he used next to the chair, and from the trunk in the barn laid out the instruments he might use, the leather strop in which he'd drilled a row of holes, the wood paddle he'd made himself, his old hair brush, and the riding crop that he'd only used once but that made me tremble just thinking about it.

"My God" exclaimed Billy,"Is this for real?"

"Please" I begged,"For my sake don't say anything."

I took off my sneakers, socks, and jeans and stood barefoot in front of the hay bale wearing only my white jockeys. I faced the chair where dad would soon sit. I kept my hands behind me, and stared at the floor in front of the chair. I knew I better be this way when dad walked in.

A moment later he did enter the barn. He still had on his jeans and work shoes but was bare chested. His muscles were hard and rippled in anticipation of the work he was about to do on my ass. He took his customary seat in the chair and started "I'm sick and tired of you not hearing me and not doing what I say. I thought that whipping last week would have taught you something but I guess it didn't. I've got to be really hard on you this time. You're 15 now, and this time I'm going to give you three with the strop for each year!

"Dad" I blurted out before thinking "I don't know if I can take that many?"

"Oh you can son, you can."

"Please, can Billy and Hank leave?"

"Just bought yourself ANOTHER 10 - any more questions."

"No, sir."

He reached up and with a quick motion pulled by jockeys down. I knew to step out.

For a moment a caught a glimpse of Hank and Billy, starring wide eyed with disbelief. Dad reached up and pulled me over his knee.. I saw him pick up the hairbrush. "Here's the extra 20 you bought with that big mouth of yours" he said as he raised his right arm high into the air. The first SMACK of the brush echoed through the barn. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK - he kept up the pounding on my firm buttocks moving around all over my reddening rear. SMACK-SMACK-SMACK- at about 10 I started really feeling the pain and grabbed the chair legs so I wouldn't be tempted to reach behind me. By 15, tears were already involuntarily forming in my eyes. Finally, he quit at 20. I knew not to move until he told me what to do next.

"Now, bend over the hay, boy, and hold onto the wire."

"Dad, can the others leave now?" I pleaded.

"No son, not till we're finished, now MOVE"

I stood, turned around, and did as he'd instructed me. I felt totally humiliated in front of the others and totally controlled by him. He picked up the strop, and I cringed at what was about to follow. He waited a moment as if enjoying my fear. Sudden, with tremendous power, SWAT right across my already burning rear.

"One down, 44 to go, son."

"Thank you, sir." I said automatically.

Slowly, methodically he beat me. SWAT, wait a moment, ANOTHER, a moment's hesitation, SMACK again. The strop moved up and down my ass and thighs. This punishment was sure to show on my legs the next time I wore shorts.

"Let's see if the sound of this leather helps your hearing," he said as he began to sweat from the work.

At about number 15, "Dad, please, I'll do better this time."

"I've heard that before son, this time you'll mean it."

SMACK -SMACK-SMACK-SMACK

"Dad, please, please, I'm sorry I disobeyed, I'm sorry."

"You know what I want to hear, son. Twenty two SWAT, 23."

"Dad, please, no more."

"You deserve every one."

"Yes dad, yes, I did hear you, I did, I'm sorry, please daddy, I'm sorry."

"That's better, finally, showing some real remorse - SWAT,29, SWAT,30."

"I am sorry, I am" I cried now, "I'll be good, I won't disobey."

He continued in spite of my pleading. I knew he would. My butt was on fire. The pain in my thighs was excruciating. One lash after another until he finally reached 45, the last swat delivered with all his might.

I was sobbing by this time, shaking with pain and humiliation. He threw the strop down.

"Billy, Hank, come over here." They walked over behind me. My face turned as red as my butt. "See this ass, see what your irresponsibility helped cause. Next time Troy gets in trouble it will be even worse. If you're his friends, you'll help him stay in line, not get into more trouble." with that, he turned and walked out of the barn.

I lay there paralysed for a minute. Hank was the first to speak.

"I'm really sorry, Troy."

"Yea, me too," said Billy

"What can we do?" asked Hank.

I finally stood, turned around, and faced them. My face and eyes were red with shame. Hank handed me a handkerchief. I picked up my shorts and put them on.

"Billy," I said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave. I'll see you in school tomorrow. Hank, maybe you can help me clean this place up."

"I'll see you Troy," said Billy as he left.

Hank and I looke at each other for a moment. He then walked over to be and put his arms around me. I cried into his shoulder.

"I'm so embarrassed," I said.

"That's OK kid, I understand. I'm your friend. I'm here for you. Now let's get this stuff put up.

As I turned and bent over a little to pick up the chair, he patted me on the butt.

"OUCH" I screamed, and looked at him.

We both just started to laugh.


Other stories by Steve