This situation took place when I was just shy of fourteen years old and most definitely too big for my britches. I was constantly being reprimanded for my obnoxious behavior and was at the height of my ability to rattle off quick-witted smart-ass comments to nearly every situation I encountered. My mouth was my nemesis and although punishments by spanking were starting to decline with my rapidly developing body, they weren't unheard of. I guess I would push the envelope as far as possible before my father, in desperation, would finally reach his limit and decide to punish me.
One Saturday after a particularly "poor attitude" week, I was to accompany my father on a business trip to Los Angeles. He was going down there on the company jet along with three other executives. I was happy about riding on the jet, but still would have rather have stayed home to kick back with my friends and see what trouble we could get into unsupervised. I guess I wasn't in the best of spirits as we met the others at the airport and boarded the plane. My greeting the other men was at best lacking the proper respect that I was brought up to show my elders. My general attitude was transparent as I answered their enthusiastic queries of my interests. Every once in a while I would catch a glare from my father that I knew to take as a warning. The men quickly ignored me and concentrated on their upcoming business meeting.
The first thing I wanted to do was to go up to the _c_o_c_k_pit and watch the pilots. I had done this before and just made the assumption that I could do it again. Without asking, I silently left my seat and went to the _c_o_c_k_pit door and opened it. The pilots were just taxiing onto the runway at this point and stopped the jet rather abruptly as I walked in. They sternly told me that we were about to takeoff and to please return to my seat, sit down and fasten my seat belt. My father caught wind of this and yelled for me to come back there immediately. Another glare, this one even more grave. Even the other men looked at me with subtle disapproving looks. With me buckled in and feeling somewhat foolish, somewhat angry, the plane took off and climbed skyward. I basically put on my best pout look and watched out the window. When the plane leveled off, one of the pilots came back and asked me if I would like to come up to the _c_o_c_k_pit now, as it was safe to do so. My father thanked him, apologized for my interruption earlier, and told both he and I that I would not be visiting the _c_o_c_k_pit today as I hadn't learned to mind my manners and ask permission before doing so. The pilot understood, nodded his agreement and returned up front.
I was now really pissed! The only reason that I hadn't put up a tremendous fight to going on this stupid trip was the _c_o_c_k_pit visit. I started arguing with my dad about letting me go up there, but he was adamant and suggested strongly that I had better sit there and behave! The look returned to his face as he was time and time again interrupted from his business partners to have to rebuff his teenager, who just would not seem to take "no" for an answer. The envelope was being stretched to its absolute limits. Finally he said sternly and unequivocally in a loud voice,
"Sit down and be quiet! You are NOT going to go up there, period!"
"This sucks!" I stormed in disgust as I basically threw myself back into the plush leather seat with my arms folded across my chest. The recline mechanism actually ratcheted backwards noisily from the force of my temper induced repositioning, causing all the men to look up from their papers at me. I gulped, for I knew that my dad was not about to let this callous disrespect, both for expensive property and others, go unchecked. The other men looked back down but my father did not. He continued looking directly at me with his face darkened. His eyes bored into mine for what seemed like 30 minutes. I tried to avoid eye contact, but could not totally because of the club seating the jet was equipped with. I sat perfectly still and hoped that his anger would pass, even as he ignored the business conversation of the others and stared silently at me. Then I saw him slowly rise from his seat, still looking at me.
"Gentlemen, excuse me, but I am afraid I have some unwelcome business to take care of with my son."
The others nodded and the conversation died to an uneasy silence. My heart started pounding in my chest as I realized what was potentially to happen. I did not say anything at the time, but made nervous glances to the others as my father walked past me and up to the _c_o_c_k_pit. I stayed perfectly still in my seat and wished fervently that I had not made that last gesture. My father was gone for no more than two minutes when he returned, holding in his hand the most unusual ruler I had ever seen. I guess he had watched one of the pilots use it previously. Anyway, it turned out to be some kind of old fashioned navigational plotter. It was clear plastic (lexan) and had various scales on each edge. Most importantly to me, it looked thick and heavy, unlike others rulers I had seen. This one was about 3 inches wide and 15 inches long. It was perhaps ¼ inch thick in the middle, tapering down to a thin edge on the sides. The bottom side was perfectly flat. There was no doubt in my mind that it was about to be applied as a paddle on me.
My eyes must have been as big as saucers as my father stopped briefly and looked at me. I could feel the other men's intense interest at what was unfolding before them. He then gestured for me to follow, and mumbled a quick "Let's go." He began walking the few feet to the back of the cabin.
"Dad, please!! I'm really sorry. I don't know why I did that. Please, sir! I promise. I'll behave!" I squirmed reluctantly in my seat, knowing that the men were staring at me. I felt small and childlike, even though I was nearly 5' 6" and almost 125 pounds. I was dumbfounded that his intent was to actually spank me in the tight confines of the corporate jet. I was also scared. Because if there was one thing I knew, it was when my dad did decide to spank, there was no holding back. It was a full-fledged, take-your-time- type spanking that left me in a mass of tears and with a thoroughly reddened fanny. Oh God! That just couldn't happen here—in front of these people!
"Hurry up, son! Get a move on!" Dad growled.
I slid begging from my seat, no longer concerned with my lack of coolness in front of the others. I had to do something to get him to change his mind about this. I apologized profusely as I shuffled one foot at a time like a puppy with his tail between his legs toward where he was standing. He just continued to stare at me with a determination that I recognized was undefeatable. The _c_o_c_k_pit door was open and the activities had even attracted the attention of both pilots as they watched me approach my father for the consequences of my actions.
My father held open the light blue fabric curtains that separated the open cabin from the couple of bunks in the sleeping area against the back cabin bulkhead. The curtains did not even reach within one foot of the floor, as they were never designed to provide the total privacy a bedroom would have. This was simply an area where tired executives could lie down for a nap during a long flight. It was maybe a total of four feet behind where the others were sitting, and most certainly within earshot. They were too intrigued by the scene anyway, try as they might, to engage in anything other than a few sentences of conversation.
Dad gripped my shoulder with one hand as he ushered me into the private area. The ruler (paddle) extended from his hand and past the side of my face as he held me with one hand and snapped on the overhead light and then closed the curtains, lapping each side over the other with determination. We were alone in the area....but I couldn't help but realize that it wasn't private like the bedroom at home. I was scared and still pleading my heart out for mercy and that I would behave like an angel if he just would please-oh-please not do this here in the plane. As I talked (begged, pleaded, promised), he simply positioned himself by sitting down on the bunk and sat the implement down next to him. When he began talking, he did so quietly. He was not enraged, but determined. This was his demeanor usually before I got the worst spankings of my life. The cabin was eerily quiet save for the gentle whisper of the wind outside rushing by at 500 miles per hour.
"Now, young man. It seems that you insist on challenging me at each and every opportunity you have. I have been patient with you because I know that at your age there are pressures and problems that all of us went through. But that is no excuse for you to continue to defy me, even when you are warned of the consequences. I want you to know that your actions today have completely embarrassed and humiliated me as well as yourself. Your behavior is deplorable and has been for several weeks. Well, mister, it is going to stop! I mean right here and right now! That little seven-year-old boy temper tantrum you just threw is going to be treated in a like manner. And I think you are well aware of what I am talking about. Now, son, I'm going to punish you. You have been asking for this for weeks, and today put you over the line. Do you have anything to say before I administer your spanking?"
I could not take my eyes off the ruler lying there on the bunk. The events were unfolding fast and I knew there was no way to escape them at this point.
"Dad, please! Not here. Please, I'm too old. I know I've been bad—but jeez, can't we do it tonight when we get home? I'm really sorry. Honest, I am!"
"No, son. I'm sure you are embarrassed to have this happen here. But you didn't seem to care about my feelings when you embarrassed me in front of my peers and forced me to have to punish you this way, did you? And you might think you are too old at 13 for a spanking, but as long as you continue to act like a spoiled 10-year-old, that is how you are going to be treated—I don't care how old you get."
The conversation stopped. Even though we were speaking quietly, I knew every word could be heard clearly by the three men just a few feet away. That few seconds of silence lingered.
"Alright, Shawn, let's get this over with. I want no more arguing. You know that you have this coming and you know the reason why. Now, take off your shirt and lay it over there." He gestured toward the far end of the bunk.
"Dad! Why?" I said aghast. Oh my God! He is going to do this bare! Oh _s_h_i_t_!
"Because, I don't want it getting all messed up and wrinkled. We have a dinner to go to tonight in LA Hurry up."
I was dressed in a long sleeve blue collared shirt with tan Dockers, about as dressed up as I got as a teenager, and even then I would let the shirt tails hang out over the pants when I could get by with it such as now. I slowly complied and took the shirt off, baring me completely from the waist up. My chest was just starting to take shape and boyish underdeveloped musculature was slowly forming me into manhood. And speaking of manhood, it just suddenly dawned on me that there had been substantial development in that area since the last time my father had seen me bare. A good patch of fur was present above the base of my penis, which had doubled from its 2-inch boyish stub of six months ago. Oh _s_h_i_t_!
"Now kick off your shoes and take your pants off and lay them with the shirt."
"Dad. PLEASE!!! Not that way, please!" I begged. I don't know why I bothered. Maybe just as a show for the men listening. When I was spanked, it was always—and I mean always—done on the bare butt.
I hesitated as he didn't budge and then began kicking off my shoes. I hesitated next a little too long and felt him reach out and pull me closer to him and then start fumbling with my belt. With a couple of little jerks, my belt was unfastened and he was starting with the button on the Dockers. I knew better to interfere with his hands. A few seconds later, the zipper to the fly was loudly lowered. His hands went back up to the waistband and began pulling the pants down my hips and past my knees.
"Now step out of the pants, Shawn, and hurry up. If you can't take your punishment like a man, then I will strip you myself. And, by the way, you just bought yourself five extra swats. Now do..as..I..say! Take the pants off and put them on the bunk with your shirt."
That got me going. As I bent down to pull off the pants, I realized that the rest of the cabin was in view from my calves down. My pants bundled around my ankles were clearly visible to them. I quickly removed them, folded them quickly and put them on the shirt. Then I slowly turned back to face my father; heart pounding in my chest, dressed only in JC Penney white briefs and socks.
"Okay, young man, now take down your underpants!" My dad said as he leaned back and crossed his arms waiting for me to comply.
"No, dad, please!" I hissed. This was always the worst part of the spanking! Especially now, in the throws of puberty, the embarrassment was huge. But I'm sure that was his idea—to make this an experience I would not want to soon repeat. I chided myself on how stupid I was to have pushed him once again to this point.
"Underpants down, son. All the way down, and step out of them. I'm going to give your bare butt a spanking you won't forget." He said as he picked up the ruler and measured its substantial weight in his hand.
Lower lip trembling, I lowered my last bit of privacy down my smooth legs and let them fall to my feet, and tried to immediately lay across his lap while staying bent over and keeping some aspect of modesty. But it was not to be. He guided me up by the arm to a standing position and told me to step out of the underpants. As I straightened up, I felt the fabric curtain make contact with my bare backside and part ever so slightly. I am quite sure that those looking on had at least a partial view of a nude teenager's legs and backside. And facing my father, as scared as I was, was starting to give me the beginnings of an erection. He did not look at me there, however. He made eye contact and once again conveyed his determination to punish me adequately so that it would not have to happen again.
"Alright, son. Bend over my lap. Put your head in the pillow. Left hand behind my back.....all the way. Now grab hold of my belt and don't let go." He scooted me up to where my butt was centered over his lap and my feet left the floor. I could feel the hem of the curtain brush against my feet as he took his time, as always, positioning me for the spanking. He was not in a hurry and he was very determined that I would be spanked until I was straightened up. The cool air caressed my smooth little bubble butt as we went through the couple minutes of guiding me into the properly held down, man-spanking-boy, position.
"Alright, now keep your legs shoulder width apart, Shawn, and don't move them until we are done. You are to take this punishment like a man, understand?" He picked up the paddle and rested it on my bare buttocks and slowly leaned forward to tightly wrap his left arm around my abdomen, holding me securely. I could tell by the way he was securing me that he intended this one to be a major spanking. I was remarkably comfortable, but certainly was not going anywhere no matter what.
I was determined not to end up blubbering and crying like a baby, especially in such close proximity to the witnesses. I steeled myself to be able to take it, no matter how much it hurt. I felt the incessantly smooth implement resting on my tender white flesh and I wondered how much this particular spanking stick would hurt. Once again the silence of the cabin became apparent. It was as if the people were not even breathing. I could hear two things: my heart pounding and the noise of the air outside the jet.
SMACK!
My question was answered. This paddle stung like FIRE!! Dad had brought the paddle down very firmly and a loud resounding crack echoed through the cabin. I squirmed slightly and let out a little hiss of breath. Dad waited for a good 10 seconds or so.
SMACK!
The pain doubled as the paddle impacted my lower fanny. "Hmmmph" I let out trying to absorb the rapidly developing sting. These were given HARD and the flick of the wrist at the end guaranteed burning pain. Another few seconds.
SMACK!!
"Ow!" My first word uttered as I realized it was going to be very, very difficult to keep from crying if this went on much further. This paddle seemed designed to provide maximum sting to a teenage boy's bare butt.
SMACK!
Oh, Jesus...."Owww!" Tears started to well up in my eyes already and it has only been 4 swats. My butt felt like it was on fire and I could sense from my father's steeled determination that my punishment had only started.
SMACK!
Another deliberate bare butt swat applied briskly to my squirming fanny. "OWW! Dad, please! I'm sorry." I pleaded, my voice raising in pitch at each swat.
"You will be, young man!" He said as he raised the paddle once again high above his head.
SMACK!
"OW! OW! OW! It hurts! Please Dad, that's enough." My eyes now had enough water in them that I couldn't focus on anything. I bit into the pillow. Every 10 seconds or so the paddle would land, HARD!
SMACK!!
"Ahh! OW!" choke "Please!" I started to squirm in earnest now because of the paddle's repeated contact on already stinging butt flesh. My legs flailed a little and I felt my feet catch the curtain momentarily lifting it. I wasn't going to be able to stand many more swats without losing it.
SMACK!
"Ahhh! Dad stop! Please, please stop! Ive learned!" sob My feet kicked up again and once again raised the curtain. I tried with all my might to wiggle free. My dad simply held me tighter and started to spank me in earnest, the swats getting faster and faster.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"This is going to be a spanking you never forget, young man! I'm tired of your attitude and I am going to fix it now! Now, stay still!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I couldn't even begin to handle it. My yells went to higher and higher pitches and then I broke down and started crying at the top of my lungs. Huge tears streamed down my face as I begged for mercy. I flailed to the point of kicking the curtain almost completely open and still the spanking went on full-fledged.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"Waaaah, Waaaah, Waaaah!" I cried openly as if I was a 7-year-old boy. Finally, it stopped as I lay there and continued to bawl my head off.
"Now, Shawn, we would be done except for the fact you didn't take down your pants when I asked you, so here is the extra five I promised you."
I was crying too hard to object as he tightened his grip again and gave me the extra 5, each one concentrated where the buttocks meet the back of the legs.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I nearly screamed before it was done. Then before I knew it, I was released from his lap and standing before him, jumping to and fro and holding my bare butt with both hands. I was crying hard and loud with tears streaming down my face and onto my bare chest. My father reached behind me and re-closed the partially open curtain. As he did so, I caught a glance at his three partners, each one having an unobstructed view of my nudity and well spanked little bubble-butt.
My father stayed with me for a minute until I calmed down and then apologized for having to be so firm with me. He held me to him as I cried into his chest and felt the love that I knew he had for me. He gently told me to stay there and compose myself. Then to get dressed and come out, shake hands and apologize individually to each person on board for my behavior.
A half-hour later, I emerged from the curtain, eyes still red and went up to Mr. Murray. The business conversation stopped as I approached.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Murray, for the way I behaved. It won't happen again." I stuck my hand out and he stood up and shook it with both his hands.
"It's okay, Shawn. I know it won't"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, for the way I acted." I shook his hand, then turned to the last of the group, the youngest guy who I liked a lot.
"I'm sorry Jim. I had no right to act that way." Tears were welling up again and the little involuntary sobs were there. He stood up and grabbed my hand and then roughed up my hair.
"It's okay, sport, don't worry about it. No one here is going to ever say a thing. I remember getting one just like that when I was your age, and I'm glad it happened, though not at the time." His smile warmed me tremendously.
My father looked at me with renewed respect and handed me the ruler that was sitting on the table.
"Why don't you take this up to the _c_o_c_k_pit, Shawn, and give it to John. You can tell him that it did the job well and apologize to both of them. Then, if they say it is okay, you have my permission to stay there and watch them. But don't make a nuisance of yourself."
The pilots met me with the same type of attitude. Kind of a "sorry that happened, but it was for the best". I was invited to stay as long as I wanted and they started to explain some navigation and aircraft systems to me. I started to forget about my punishment until I was told to pull out the jump seat and sit down. I then had a quick reminder.
"Sore?" John said as he placed the ruler back in his flight case.
"Yeah! Man, that thing hurts BAD!" I said rubbing my seat.
"I bet! You are lucky that you have a father that loves you enough to do that, you know."
"I know." I returned his smile and returned to concentrating on _c_o_c_k_pit.