Author's Note: I had thought about doing this one, but it took a request to get me to actually do it.
Background: This is based on "King of the Hill", a animated series that currently runs on the Fox network in the US. It's about an ordinary family living in the Texas suburbs. The father is a man named Hank Hill; a painfully ordinary man with a dreadful Texas drawl in his voice. One of his two children is a boy named Bobby, who's age I estimate is about 11. I don't watch this show very often because I find the "Bevis & Butt-Head" style of animation annoying somehow. (One other thing, please no requests about those two assholes; I refuse to touch anything as stupid as that.)
* * * *
"Jean, you seen Bobby?" Hank Hill asked as he walked in the door.
"I think he's up in his room, honey. Why do you need him?"
"Well, I've told that boy about messing around with my stuff in the garage and then not puttin' it back. Last time I warned him, I told him it was his last chance, but he's gone and done it again. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to spank that boy before he gets it through his thick skull that he can't be messing with my stuff like that."
Jean just nodded her head. When Hank got that determined tone in his voice, there was no point arguing with him. Bobby had gotten his stubbornness from his father, after all. Besides, from what her husband had told her, it sounded like a spanking might do Bobby some good. She was a woman who believed a burning backside was often necessary in rearing children.
Hank made his way to his son's room. The door was open and he walked right in. Bobby was laying on his bed reading comic books. He looked up and saw his father. At first his eyes only held a look of blank curiosity, but in a few moments it turned to apprehension.
"Dad!" he said. "What are you doing home so early?"
"I got the rest of the afternoon off, Bobby, but that's not important right now. What's important is for you to tell me why you've been messing around with my stuff again."
"I was going to put it back, Dad!" Bobby pleaded, "Honest, I was!"
"Even if that's true, Bobby, it doesn't explain what you were doing with it in the first place when I told you to ask permission first."
"I would've asked permission, Dad, but you weren't here!" Bobby said.
"Well, you should have waited until I got home, then, or at least asked your mother. And then you made it worse by leaving everything about. You have to learn to respect other people's property, son."
"I'm sorry Dad." Bobby meekly replied.
"Sorry's just not good enough this time, Bobby. Remember what I told you last time?"
Bobby hung his head and nodded.
"What'd I say I'd do if you used my stuff without asking permission first?" Hank pressed.
"You said you'd spank me," Bobby said softly to the floor.
"Then I guess you know that you'd better start stripping, son, 'cause that's just what I'm gonna do."
Bobby slowly started to pull his T-shirt over his head. Hank reached down, unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of his jeans. Looking at his son, he saw that while his shirt was off, the boy was looking uncertainly at his shorts.
"Hurry up and get those pants off, Bobby," Hank snapped as he doubled his belt over in his hand. "I've got better things to do than beat your butt, so get a move on!"
Bobby paled more than he already had, and quickly got his shorts off. He stood up, clad only in his white cotton briefs. He was a chubby kid, but not so much that his tummy hung down over his waist. Hank gave him a once over and made a decision.
"Bobby, usually I'd let you keep those underpants on, but I've warned you too many times on this one. I'm afraid you're just going to have to pull them down to your knees and I'm gonna to beat your bare butt."
"No, Daddy, please!" Bobby begged. "Don't make me do that!"
"Get naked, boy, and snap to it. I'm already going to wrap this belt around your butt a good twenty times but if you don't hurry up, it's gonna be more like thirty."
Bobby gulped. He'd never gotten twenty licks before, and now he was going to get that many or more. And bare bottomed to boot! With tears streaming down his face, he worked his briefs down his legs. He tried to keep them around his knees, but they slid down to his ankles. Knowing that there was no point to keeping them there, he stepped out of them.
Hank looked down at his naughty son. The boy was standing there abashed, his arms at his sides, awaiting his father's justice. Bobby was an O. K. kid and he'd grow up into a fine man someday, but only if he was properly disciplined. He glanced at his son's hairless little pecker and nuts; it looked like they had grown a bit in the past few months, but Bobby was still very much a boy. Well, time to get this over with.
"Bobby, turn around and bend over that chair, there," he said, "And stick your butt up good and high."
The boy moved into position, painfully aware of his vulnerable bottom. He made one last plea.
"Please don't give me twenty, Dad," he said with a choked voice.
"All right, I'll give you twenty five, then," came his father's reply.
Bobby squeezed his eyes shut and started to moan. That wasn't fair, couldn't he even ask for mercy? His heart sank beneath his stomach as he heard his father getting into position.
SMACK! He gasped as the thick belt connected with his ass, creating a stinging line right across the ample cheeks.
SMACK! Bobby had never felt a belt on his bare butt before, and it stung worse than he could have imagined.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! His father had good aim, and he was bringing his belt down in the same spot each time. Bobby felt as if the pain would cut him in two.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!! Now the belt was covering more area, but this brought Bobby no relief. Instead the horrible, burning, stinging pain was covering his entire bottom. The vicious strokes dug into his tender skin.
With measured stokes, Hank Hill continued to punish his son. Listening to Bobby's shrieks and looking at his son's plump butt turning several shades of red, he wondered if he was overdoing it. Still, he believed in being consistent. He'd told Bobby that he'd get 25 and that was just what he was going to give him. Despite the boy's blubbering, he delivered the last five with extra force. SAMCK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!!
Bobby, who had managed to keep count through the ordeal, immediately stood up, hopping about, still yelling as he tried to bring some relief to his rear. Now that it was over, Hank found it hard not to smile. Seeing Bobby leaping all about with his boy's pecker flying every which way was kind of funny. Still, the boy wouldn't appreciate seeing him laugh, so he controlled himself. After a few moments, he spoke up.
"Bobby, I'm done with spanking you, but you still need to put my stuff up where you found it and I want you to do it right now."
Bobby had hoped for a few moments more to console himself, but he knew better than to cross his dad again. Reluctantly, he reached for his clothes.
"I said right now, Bobby, not after you put on your clothes," Hank clarified with an angry growl.
"What! Dad, I can't go down there like this! Mom's down there."
"If you think your mother cares about seeing you naked, you're gonna be surprised. Besides, I want her to see your spanked butt so she knows that you were punished properly. Now you're sister's not home yet, but she probably will be soon. She probably will have a few things to say if she sees you, so if you don't want to hear it from her, you better hop to it."
Bobby gulped. His mother seeing him like this was bad, but his sister would be infinitely worse. Without another word, he trotted out of his room, still rubbing his behind as he made his way to the garage. Worse yet, the garage door was wide open; if anyone passed by, they would have a clear view of him. As fast as he could, he retrieved his dad's tools from where he had carelessly left them and put them back. His father had come in behind him and now interrupted his progress.
"Don't just throw everything in that drawer, Bobby. All those things have a proper place. If you don't know where something goes, ask."
Bobby was on the verge of panic. The longer he was here, the more chance that someone would see him. All the same, he slowed down and tried to remember where he had gotten things from. A few times he had to ask where something went, but most of the time he got it right. He was down to putting away the last few things when his luck ran out; one of his father's beer guzzling buddies showed up.
"Hey Hank," the man said from behind his sunglasses. "Say, Bobby, what 'cha doing naked in the garage? Trying to start a new fad?"
Bobby didn't know what to say. He just stood there and blushed.
"Aren't you going to answer, Bobby?" his father asked. There was a warning there, and Bobby knew he'd better 'fes up.
"Um, I go spanked for leaving Daddy's tool out. Now I'm putting them back," he said as he looked at the ground, wishing that it would open up and swallow him.
"Oh, yea, I can see how red your butt is, now that I look. Looks like ole Hank gave you a good blistering. Bet'cha won't be leaving his tool lying around for a while."
"No, sir," Bobby whispered, putting away the last items.
"You run along now, Bobby," Hank said. Just don't let me catch you doing this again.
"No, Daddy," Bobby said as he retreated to the house. He hoped to get safely to his room, but ran smack into his mother.
"Well, Bobby, I hope you learned your lesson," she said.
"Yes, Momma," Bobby nodded, horribly embarrassed by his naked condition.
"Well, you go and get dressed, then. I need some help in the kitchen, and you're elected."
At last, Bobby made it back to the sanctuary of his room. His butt had gone from stinging to very sore, but it was still hot to the touch. Quickly, he pulled back on his underpants and jeans before anyone else saw his privates. This had not been a good day.