Gerald White and Son


by Juan Santiago <Paliza3000@yahoo.com>

"Daddy," said 17-year-old Suzy White, "did you know that Bobby came home late today?" She was a tall, blond beauty with several boyfriends. She usually wasnt home before 7:00 or 8:00 in the evening, but tonight she had been stood up and returned home at the unusually early hour of 5:00. To her amazement, her 12-year-old brother Robert wasnt home yet. She knew that he was not allowed to leave the house after returning from school around 3:30 or 4:00 and that her father would give the boy a really sound thrashing if he found out.

Gerald White, a 41-year-old widower, turned to his daughter. He had always been very close to Suzy, ever since she was the most adorable baby he had ever seen. Robert, on the other hand, was a rough, uncivilised little brat whom he couldnt stand even though he remarkably handsome, also blond and blue-eyed but his face was boyishly mischievous, even impertinent. He had used any excuse to punish the boy from an early age, at first with 10-20 minute spankings that left the boys small buttocks bruised from lower back to mid thigh. Suzy had always been fascinated with the sight of her little brother draped across their fathers knees, his bottom bare and raised at a convenient angle, bouncing at every hot, stinging slap. The girl had stood and watched as the boys buttocks had turned from white to pink, then gradually to scarlet, crimson and purple. And the punishment hadnt even been half-way finished. The boy was beside himself with pain and had tried to escape the ferocious assault on his behind, but his father was strong and had little trouble holding the writhing, howling little boy in the proper position.

"How do you know?" he now asked his daughter.

"Well, I came home early and he wasnt here. I know he didnt come home after school. Dont you think he should be punished?"

Since then Robert had grown into a tall, slender boy with strong legs and a chubby little bottom that seemed to want to burst out of his close-fitting shorts. The bottom, neatly outlined under the thin cotton, seemed to cry out for attention and Geralds gave it - a lot. His eyes were invariably drawn to this portion of the boys anatomy. The high-slung buttocks sloped so provocatively that the man instinctively brought out the cane. Sometimes he couldnt wait and caned the boy across the seat of the shorts and since the boy was given no underwear, he was pretty certain that the boy felt it sufficiently even through the clothes. But after a while, Gerald stopped and had the boy lower his shorts so that the man could resume the caning across bare flesh.

"Of course I do," Gerald replied with an angry voice. "Go and get him downstairs."

"Yes, Dad," Suzy chirped sunnily and skipped up the stairs toward the boys room. She found him bent over his desk, busy with his homework.

"Hey, Bobby-boo, Dad wants to see you. I wonder why." She laughed when she saw her brothers expression. "Guilty conscience, perhaps?"

"You told on me," Robert said accusingly. "You are mean."

"Well, Dad pays me extra pocket money to keep an eye on you. So it is my duty to report your actions, especially your disobedience Now hurry up or it will be just worse for you."

Robert rose from his wooden chair and followed his sister back downstairs to Gerald Whites study. Once inside, Gerald didnt waste any time.

"Suzy tells me you didnt come directly home from school. That is outright disobedience and willful obstinacy. The penalty for each, as you should know by now, is 6 strokes with the senior cane. Get ready."

"Oh, please, sir," young Roberts voice quivered with fear, "all my friends went to watch the game at Park. I stayed only an hour or so. And I already almost finished my homework. Please dont cane me again."

Gerald looked down into the small, drawn face now white and anxious. "Then lets make that 8 strokes for each offence, since you continue to insist on being recalcitrant even in here. Suzy, fetch me the senior cane and you, Robert, you better get those shorts down and get into position before I lose my temper with you."

With a small sigh, they young boy unbuttoned the waistband of his shorts, pulled down the zip and pushed the tight garment down his well-muscled thighs and, past the calves, down to his ankles. Then he haltingly walked towards the desk and and leaned his hands against the near edge, his feet about 3 feet away and parted as far his shorts allowed.

Gerald looked him over for a moment then approached him and pushed the boys shirt up to his shoulders. The boys buttocks were still well marked from a previous caning, with purple-black marks covering most of the lower half of the buttocks and maybe 3 inches down the thighs.

"You will not move from this position at any time unless I tell you to. You will count each stroke with the usual phrase and you will not clench your buttocks neither before, during or after a stroke. Is that all clear to you, boy?"

"Yes, sir," the boy sniffed, already wanting to tighten his cheeks in anticipation of the dreadful pain to come.

Gerald playfully tapped the cane against the weals across the underside of the boys bottom cheeks, took careful aim and brought the heavy cane down across that area with great relish. The force of the stroke dented the flesh when the cane was lifted, a red welt appeared, gradually darkening as he watched.

"One sir," the boy whimpered through clenched teeth. "Thank you, sir."

Two, three and four followed with adequate pauses between each. Suzy stood close by, her blue eyes fastened on the boys naked backside as it bounced under its paternal attention. Her lips were parted and she was breathing more quickly.

After the 5th stroke had landed across the upper thighs, Gerald lowered the cane and placed it on the desk, near the boys sweating face. He looked at Suzy.

"Yes, I saw it," she exclaimed with a grin. "He clenched, didnt he?"

"No, no!" young Robert cried out. "I didnt!"

"Yes," Gerald agreed, "you did. Both Suzy and I saw it quite clearly. Suzy, bring the suppositories."

"Oh, please, sir. Please not that! I wont clench again, I promise!" the boy wailed in a high-pitched voice. He was ignored.

While the girl was gone, Gerald lectured the bending boy.

"Your behaviour seems to be getting worse, rather than better," he said. "I know boys your age can be mischievous and ill-behaved at times, meriting a good thrashing maybe once or twice a week. But you dont seem to learn even when I punish your three or four times a week. Do you really need a daily whipping to teach you proper behaviour? I am willing to do that, if you make me. I will also advise your headmaster to pay closer attention to your faults in school. He doesnt seem to cane you hard enough or often enough. Maybe I can change that."

Suzy returned with a large jar and handed it to her father. Gerald opened the jar and extracted a yellow, glistening piece of peeled ginger root.

"Pull your cheeks well apart," he instructed his son. Two small hands reach back and opened his buttocks. "Wider, boy, as far as they will go." He handed the suppository to Suzy. "Here, insert it, will you? Push it in good and deep. We want him to feel it."

Suzy took hold of the ginger and approached the boy. The 3-inch suppository, a little over an inch thick, was forced into the boys anus. Robert gasped when he started to feel the heat. There could be no clenching now. The ginger burned like fire and his sphincter instinctively wanted to expel the intruder. The boy knew from past experience that pushing the suppository out would have dreadful consequences.

"Ah, now we can see that little rosebud most clearly," Suzy laughed. "Bet he wont clench again."

"Well start from number one," Gerald pronounced and Suzy chuckled when the boy squeaked his anguish.

The cane rose and fell. "One, sir," Robert wailed in despair. "Th-thank you, sir."

"Yes," Gerald said, raising the cane again, "the ginger root is most effective in keeping a boys bottom open. And of course this boy will not obey unless he is forced to, but we have ways and means to make stubborn little scamps into well-behaved young boys, dont we, Robert?"

"Y-yes, sir," the boy blubbered as the cane lashed down again. "Two, sir. Thank you, sir."

The words were blurred, almost drowned out by his sobs. "Watch that count, boy. This will cost you 2 extras. Next time count properly."

Two strokes across the upper thighs as a free bonus for a naughty boy. Then came the official number three.

By the time the first eight strokes had been well whipped into the boys streaked buttocks. Roberts arms were trembling from maintaining his weight on them for so long. His anus and rectum were filled with molten lava, it seemed, and his behind was decorated lavishly in all hues, from deep red, to purple and black.

Gerald placed the cane back on the desk. "Get up, boy. You will take your place in the corner for 2 hours and we will then deal with the second installment. I will be watching you even though I might be reading my papers, so dont move and stop that crying. You had better keep some of those tears for later. As you know, the second part will be worse. The strokes will fall on your fresh stripes and I will punish you more severely to make sure I get through to that fat, lazy boy bottom of yours."

Robert straightened and waddled towards his corner at the far end of the room. His throbbing bottom felt heavy and larger than usual. Each stripe seemed to be pulsing individually. He reached the corner, pressed his nose firmly against the wall and placed his hands behind his neck. Sobs still wracked his body.

Gerald eyed his sons behind for several minutes with a satisfied feeling. He enjoyed this interval. First having had the pleasure of the caning and then the anticipation of the continuation. He forced his eyes back to his papers and began to read...


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