Moving in with Dad 3 Trip to the Mall


by Brad and Nate <B_radleym@yahoo.com.au>

"Ok, we have a lot of shopping to do. So let's get started."

Im still in a state of shock on how things are so different for me as against barely a week ago. But my Dad keeps surprising me as I notice our first stop is the beddings section of Sears.

I looked at my Dad like he had something on his face, "DAD? This is for KIDS beds. What are we doing here? Can I wait outside?"

"No you may not," Dad tells me, "This is for your bedroom and you need to help me pick out some stuff."

"But, Dad," I look at him, "I am NOT a kid. I am NOT going to get any of this."

Dad glared at me, "What did I tell you about telling me "no" and what you are or aren't going to do?"

I looked down, "Sorry, Sir. I forgot."

He looked like he was deciding on whether to spank me right then and there. And I decide to do some additional damage control.

"It wont happen again, Sir. I promise. Sir...."

"Okay, Jasper. That was your last warning. Now, go pick out sheets, pillow cases, comforters, and the like. We'll also need a night light, some wallpaper, paint and other kids room accessories."

"What?" My jaw drops to my chin.

"Go!" Dad gives me a love pat to send me on my way.

"NO!" I hollered, "I'm outta here!" I turn to walk out and then feel my ear grabbed.

"OWWWWWW!"

Dad drags me to a rocking horse. He yanks me over it. At least he didn't bare me, so thank goodness for small favors, I guess. I feel the belt whoosh out of his pants belt loop.

PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK!

I try to take the spanking so as not to attract any attention. But the belt continue to pelt my jean-clad butt.

PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK!

AAAAAAAAAAAA! (I let out a peep.)

PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK!

OWWWWWWW (Louder peep.)

PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! IMSORRRRRRYYYYYYYY !

I knew I better start apologizing before I attract a really big audience.

PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK! PAK!

NO MOOOOOOOOOOORE!! DADDDDDYYYYYYYYYYY!

Daddy stopped, "Are you going to behave? Or do you need more?"

"NO! No more, Daddy! No More!" I protest, through tears. Daddy lifts me. He himself sits on the rocking horse and helps me on his lap. He rocks me, cuddles me and hugs me tightly to him. He kisses me on the cheek, "Love you son and I want you to be good."

"Y-yes, Sir," I sniffed. He stood me up and straightened my clothes then led me to stand against the wall. "Stay here while I pick out your rooms décor." He shakes his head. "It will be your fault if you dont agree with my taste."

Some kids started laughing,

"Shut up!" I hiss.

Dad came over, "Quiet! Unless you want more corner time."

"Kids, go play. He's just been naughty and is being punished. Go on! Scoot!"

I could hear Dad talking to the sales lady and together they filled a shopping cart with various sheets, bed covers, quilts, comforters and the like. I shudder to think what color and design they were.

PAT PAT Dad pats my buns to release me from corner time.

"Ok" he gives me a squeeze and steers me towards the underwear section without missing a beat.

"Are you still a medium, Jasper?"

I honestly dont know as I wore boxers now so I shrug.

Dad gets a box - Fruit of the Loom. Plain white. Same old. Same old. He gestures to the fitting room. "Oh well! Its best to fit them anyway. Lets go."

I know better than to protest but as I start to lock the stall, Dad pushes the door. "I want to see if they fit. Go on."

"Oh come on!"

"Jasper Colin! Do you really want another spanking?"

I give an exagerrated sigh but take off my jeans and hang it properly. I turn around in a futile attempt at modesty and quickly pull down the old briefs off.

Dad gently pats my buns again. PAT PAT PAT "Dont worry, Jas. Its only a bit pink"

I blush and my neck and face resemble my pinkened butt. "Daaaaaaaadddddd!!!"

I quickly put on the new ones. The briefs feel a bit tight after the freedom afforded by wearing boxers. "Its tight", I complain. "Boxers are really much better, Dad."

"Nope. Briefs are best for a boy." Dad tests the elasticity of the briefs waistband, at the same time turning me to face him. "Yep. These briefs are snug. Its perfect, Jas."

"Awwww Daaadddd......" I roll my eyes at Dad but dont protest that much. I have forgotten the feel of snug briefs on my skin. I must admit it reminded me of my old life and oddly, it gave me a feeling of reassurance and content.

"Thats for work and school. So well get maybe 5 more boxes." Dad snaps me out of my reverie.

"Get dressed, Jas. We also need to get some roos for the home. You can choose the designs." He says magnanimously.

"Oh! Come on!" I protest once more at the embarrassment of choosing underoos. "Underoos are for kids!"

"Do you want me to choose for you?"

I shake my head and quickly chose the adult-colored ones without caring for the design. Blue (Smurfs, Blues Clues). And Brown (Scooby doo, Winnie the Pooh).

Thankfully, we go to the cashier. But the nosy young man asked, "Oh you have a younger son?"

"No. I only have one" Dad puts one arm on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. His other hand pats my buns. "And Im very happy with him most of the time."

"Oh!" the cashier grins at me.

I want to wipe it off his face with an uppercut. But Dad seemed to read my mind as he pats my buns in warning. "Now.... now.... Jas.... He was just teasing, baby boy."

I did not hear that. I DID NOT just hear my father call me "baby boy" in front of a smug cashier. But, as I say this, I also realize I secretely liked it. I was my fathers "baby boy" and I was safe from any kind of harm.

Next, Dad drags me to the sleepwear section.

"Dad, no need for this. I did bring pjs with me. I dont sleep in the nude if thats what youre afraid of" I remind him.

"Well, Im glad. But your jammies last night were a tight fit and we ought to buy new ones. I want to get you nightshirts, too. I think its perfect for boys whose britches become too big."

Before I could recover from that one, Dad shakes around 3 nighshirts from its folds. "Come on to the fitting room. I want to find nightshirts with the perfect length."

"Huh?" I had no idea what Dad meant until he made me take off my shirt and jeans to put on the first nightshirt.

"Dad! Whats going on?"

The nightshirt fell below the knee.

Dad just shook his head. "Nope. Wont do."

He handed me the second one. "Here. Try this one."

This time, the nightshirt just barely covered my butt.

"Ok. Were getting that."

"But nightshirts are for girls and babies!" I grumble.

"I thought you said last night that any covering on your butt felt like sandpaper?"

I couldnt deny it. I did say it.

"But, this is.... its too.... welllll.... short!" I say as I try to pull down the hem.

"No. You were right. You ought to have shirts that wont hurt a sore butt."

Oh boy! What a time to be right.

"Besides, thats not short. This is." Dad holds up the third nightshirt. "Try this on."

I do. And as usual, Dads right. The nightshirt fell just below my belly button and exposed my ass cheeks perfectly.

"Ok. Perfect!" he nods at me.

"You must be kidding me!" I stare wide-eyed at him.

"Do you want to wear that for the rest of the day?"

I simmer down. Immediately. "No, Sir."

Dad allowed me to redress with another warning pat on my buns. Then we head for the food court.

"Save a table and Ill get us some food."

Before I could state my preference, I find myself about to talk to the air so I just plop down on one of the chairs. "OW!" How can I forget my freshly-spanked butt?

I look around and thankfully, no one saw this boo-boo. I just hope Dad comes back with something decent to eat.

As I wait, I see that the record store near the entrance of the food court is still in business. And I have a flashback.

I was 11 yrs. old and browsing through some records while Dad was browsing in the bookstore for some good mystery novels. I saw some CDs I knew Dad would never let me buy, so I hid those in my shirt.

But the alarm goes off as I step towards the exit and I hear someone yell, "SECURITY" I make a run for it and take off towards a corridor.

But I wasn't fast enough and the guard caught me. We went straight to the security office.

"Ok, son. Phone number and name, please." the guard said.

"Jasper Colin Williamson." Despite the fact that I knew my Dad was going to scorch my butt, I was more scared of the guard and wanted my father by my side. "My Dad is in the bookstore."

"Ok. Good." the guard said and radio-ed to another guard.

I dont remember much about the following conversation between the guard and my Dad. But I do remember their parting words.

"This will not be swept under the carpet, Officer. I promise you."

"Good. Then I will let him go in your custody, then."

Dad wasted no time and dragged me over to a bench in this very food court.

"What the hell were you thinking, young man?" Dad asks angrily.

"I knew you wouldn't get me those CDs so I thought I'd just take them. I knew it was wrong. But I wanted them so badly. Please don't be too mad at me." I plead with Dad, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"I'm not mad at you, Jasper. I'm just disappointed in your behavior and you know what I plan to do about it," reaching for his belt buckle.

I try to squirm away but a couple smacks from Dad stopped that quickly.

Dad yank my jeans down to my ankles and then followed suit with my underwear, dragging me across his lap.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

This part I remember so well. I was crying and squirming and screaming as Dad blistered my bottom.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I begin to bawl and kick really hard but Dad continued the assault on my bottom.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

He stopped the spanking and reached in the bag and pulled out a hairbrush.

"NO!! Please daddy! NO!!" I pleaded, to no avail. As I felt the brush crash down on my already sore behind.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

He set the brush back in the bag and rubbed his sobbing, bawling, sore bottomed son's bare rear end and back for a few minutes. Just when I thought it was all over, he then reached into the bag and pulled out a belt. He doubled it and brought it down across my bare buttocks.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

By then, I was yelling loudly and bawling, snot coming out of my eyes and nose by the time Dad finished.

Its weird, though. Because just as I vividly recall the spanking, I also remember being pulled to him into a hug and rocked and cuddled until I calmed down.

"Sorry about that, Jasper. But you left me no choice. And remember, you've got more coming at home. Though I will let you decide when you get it. I love you, baby," he said.

"Love you too, Daddy,"

That was still echoing in my head when Im jolted back to reality by Dads tap on my shoulder.

"Hey! Pizza ok with you, champ?"

"Sure, Dad." I look into my Dads eyes and see the love reflected on it.

"Perfect!"

Id like to say that the day ended perfectly. But truth be told, Im not really sure. The last stop was the pharmacy.

We were in one of the aisles when I saw Dad ticking off the fingers of his hand.

Concerned, I whisper to him. "Dad? You have enough cash? I told you I was willing to pay my share...."

"Oh! Its all right, Jas. Im not counting pennies." He quickly reassures me with an attempt at levity. But turns serious right after. "I told you I support your goal of getting this masters degree. And I meant it. In fact, you dont really need to work."

He puts his fingers on my lips, stilling my protest. "I know. You need to feel independent somehow and I understand. So Im allowing it for now. This semester will be a trial period. If your grades will reflect that you cant juggle the two, then Im going to ask you to concentrate on your studies. But thats a long way off. Lets see how this works out first, huh?"

"Sure!" I nod to signify my agreement, confident I can juggle my academics and career.

"Anyway, do you know what I was counting off mentally?"

I shake my head.

"How many thermometers we need. One in the living room, kitchen, your room, mine, the upstairs and downstairs bath, my car, and yours. That ought to be enough for now."

"Huh?"

"Forget it. Come on. I know you want some gum. And Im allowing it this time because youve been relatively good."

Roll of my eyes.

"Ill meet you at the cashier."

As I add my gum to Dads other purchases, I pitied my Dad and thought old age was indeed catching up with him as I saw some of the items on the counter. Vaseline, enema kits, adult diapers, baby powder, plastic pants, ben gay, suppositories, and something called castor oil. Little was I to know it MIGHT not be intended for my Dad.

The afternoon was spent redecorating my room. I knew at that moment, sleepovers or any casual visit to my room by any friend are out of the question. Not with Scobby Doo decorating the curtains, linen and study table!

I end the day as I always do when I was living alone – fiddling with my laptop.

"What are you doing?" Dad pokes his head by my doorway.

"Checking my mail. Updating my schedule. That sort of thing."

I dont see Dads frown but I hear it in his voice. "Well, turn that off. I dont want you to have a computer in your room. It gives little boys bad ideas. Besides, its almost 9. Bedtime, little boy."

"Dad? What the he.... heck (nice save) are you talking about? I own this my laptop. I am an adult. And I will use it responsibly."

"No."

Just that one word. No. Okay. "No" and a significant touch at the paddle hanging over my bedroom door. That certainly nipped the escalating rebellion in the bud.

"You can use your laptop in your office. But while living in this house, you use the family computer in my den. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And about your schedule? Remind me to bring down the whiteboard we used before. I want all your activities written there at all times."

A whiteboard used to hang in my room mimicking a giant date book. It lists all my activities - class schedule, practice games, church activities, etc. No different from whiteboards that hung in many homes. But what made mine different was Dad made me put any spanking sessions due me as well. I remember a rare "D" in a paper for an anthropology elective in college got me a weeks worth of bedtime spankings. And sure enough, BEDTIME SPANKING in big bold red letters were written on that white board for the duration. Dad would even make a show of asking what was on the agenda for the night or pretend to forget then "remember" it as he sees it on the board. That was as embarrassing as the spankings. Well, almost.

Dad seemed to remember the same thing as he smiles at me.

"Yes. Including punishment sessions, too, Jas."

He then ruffles my hair in an affectionate gesture.

"Now come on. Its late. Turn that off and go to bed."

Dad patiently waits for me to turn off the laptop and change into pjs. Yes, also of scooby doo design. Sigh.

"I love you, Jas. And Im determined that youd make something of yourself. Now come on. A good night kiss for Dad, huh?"

Even then, I couldnt hold a grudge against Dad for long, realizing he is telling the truth. He may be strict, but it was for my benefit.

"Okay. Im sorry. Good night. I love you." I give him a sincere hug and good night kiss.

"Good night, my baby boy" Dad turns off the lamp and carries my laptop with him.

I turn to go to sleep, but have trouble, so I roll over and find the remote, and turn it on, on low volume. Its an old episode of M. A.S. H. and I am laughing and chuckling – loudly. I jump when I hear the words I dread, "Jasper Colin Williamson!"

"Daddy!" I say after calming down, "I couldnt sleep, so I turned on the TV to try and get drowsy."

"Jasper, you know that if you cant sleep, you call me and Ill give you some hot milk or sing you lullabies. Dont you know that, Jasper?" Daddy asked.

I look at Dad. "I did that as a kid, Daddy. I dont need to do that now. Ok? Let me watch TV."

"No son. You know the rules. No TV after bedtime. You call me. Looks like I need to remind you," Dad takes the paddle from its hook in the bedroom door.

I try to get out of bed but he quickly sits on it and pulls me before I get a chance to escape. He flips me over his lap, lowers my pajamas and underroos to below my bottom in one swift move. I might not be the puny child I once was but my Dad is still in great shape and I couldnt escape his hold.

"Dad! Come onnnnnnnnnn!"

The paddle connects right at the center of my butt.

PAK! PAK! PAK!

Without a warm-up hand-spanking, Im immediately howling at the paddles assault.

My OWWWWWS and AIIIIIEEEES does not even register with Dad as he gives me another edict.

"In fact, I dont think you should even have a TV in your room."

PAK! PAK! PAK! (left cheek)

"This might prove a distraction in your schoolwork."

Another five on my right cheek. PAK! PAK! PAK!

My yells are interrupted by the ringing of Dads mobile phone.

I sigh in relief at this reprieve.

But just as I think I might be let off lightly, Dad proves me wrong.

He talks on the phone all right. "Yeah. Jasper moved in this week."

But Dad holds me in position and continues the paddling on my SIT SPOT.

"Ill bring him with me to work Monday" PAK PAK "So he can say hi." PAK PAK "Yeah." PAK!

The last was a particularly strong one and I cant help but let an OWWW! escape my lips.

"Hell behave" PAK PAK PAK!

(I try to swallow my cries and it comes out as hiccups)

"I guarantee" PAK "that." PAK PAK "If he doesnt" PAK PAK

OWEEEEE! (My confidence that I can take this paddling stoically is fast fading)

"He knows whatll happen" PAK PAK "to him." PAK!

PLEAAASEEEE! (I cant help it. I know that the man on the other end of the line might hear me but I feel like theres a bonfire on my butt by now)

"Uh huh. Thats him. (chuckles) Of course" PAK!

OWWWWWW!!! I was mortified that Dad confirmed to the mysterious caller that it was me being spanked.

"He still gets spanked when needed. (chuckles) This?" PAK PAK PAK "The paddle" PAK PAK "on his bedroom door." PAK "Remember?"

"DAAAAAA OOOOWWWW AAADDDD!!"

Yep." PAK PAK "Still packs a" PAK "sting" PAK PAK PAK "All right" (chuckles)

(I try grunting instead of yelling but the paddling hurts too much for that)

OWWWWIIIEEE!

"Ok. PAK See you. Bye."

Now that the phone conversation is finished, Dad re-adjusts my position and makes a complete circuit of the whole area from my upper cheeks to slightly below my sit spots.

PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK

OWEEEEEEEE! OWWWWWWWWWW! OOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Reduced to a bawling, hiccuping and wheezing little boy, I realized the paddling had ended.

Daddy lifts me up and rocks me, "Son, I know youre having a hard time re-adjusting to our rules. But those rules have kept you on the straight and narrow. And I intend to re-introduce them and reinforce them as long as necessary to help you achieve your full potential."

Daddy continues to rock me. "Itll be ok, baby. Trust Daddy."

As I start to calm down, Dad elaborates on the earlier phone call. "By the way, that was Jake on the phone earlier."

"Oh?!" I squeak. Jake is my fathers foreman and one of his best buddies.

"I know you were embarrassed but youve known him forever and you know he can be trusted. I told him Id take you with me on Monday to the project site so you can say hi. Well pass by the site to see how its going before I take you to school. And youll behave. Got it?"

"Dad, Im not in Kindergarten!" I grouse.

Dad takes me by the shoulder and LOOKS into my eyes. "I know youre NOT in kindergarten. But I want to talk to your teachers. I think it is both our jobs to make sure you do the best work possible to prepare you for the work you will eventually do outside school. There are no PTAs in college and graduate school which I think is a shame so I want to initiate a parent-teacher relationship anyway. GOT IT?"

"Yes, Sir." I reply, knowing in that hard tone, he is not to be messed with.

Daddy rubs my hair. "Daddy wuvs you Jasper, yes he does. Now get some sleep my baby boy."

"Yes, Daddy," I reply as I bury my head in his shoulders. Finally, I calm down and Daddy lays me down, tucks me in, kisses my forehead.

As he leaves the room, I reflect on the day that was and I realized I got lucky after all as Dad has still not given me the promised enema.


More stories by Brad and Nate