"Cassie, I swear that boy goes out of his way to earn a lickin'!"
"What makes you think that?" Scott's mother replied, watching the stew on the stove thicken. "Hard to believe he would want to take the kind of strapping you just laid on him, honey."
"Well, I know. But if you could hear him! The sass and the foul language is one thing. But the attitude! Sometimes he just spits disrespect with every answer and he knows that is exactly what is going to get his butt tanned."
"Just part of growin' up, love. You can't remember how hard it was when you were between being a child and a man? Grandpa Schmidt never took you out behind the shed for a whipping?"
"Of course he did. You know he did," he replied with a knowing smile to his wife. "But I can tell you I never came close to sassing back to him what Scott does to me. My pa would have blistered me so bad I wouldn't have been able to sit for a month."
"Seems to me you blistered his hind end pretty good for his trip out to the quarry, dear." she said, stirring the pan and then turning the heat to simmer. "Takes a lot for a boy to cut his ties of dependency on both his parents. Especially hard for a boy to find himself outside his dad."
"Don't you go givin' me that psycho garbage, too, please? That's all I hear these days. 'Got to give your children space. Freedom. Understanding.' Well, the world I live in is pretty harsh when you intentionally defy authority the way he has this summer."
"I know, dear," she replied in a way she knew would calm him. If he was this agitated, she figured maybe he felt a bit bad about how hard a punishment he had just given his son. "Someday he will actually be glad he had a father like you. He will. You'll see. His attitude has been dreadful this summer. That I will grant you. Maybe the sass will stop for a while."
"It will," Fred Schmidt said, "or else. I told him if there was any more sass to you or me this summer he was going to get a good mouthful of Palmolive soap and a trip to the end of his bed for another lesson with the belt."
Cassie Schmidt looked over to her husband and saw she had, indeed, calmed him. Then she looked at the clock and calculated she had at least a half hour before the pie would come out of the oven. She walked over to him, pulled him into a long hug, and then nuzzled his neck. And she reached down to take hold of his hardness through his slacks. .
"How about it, big boy? We have a few minutes? Come on down to the laundry. Scott will be in his room till supper, I'm sure. How 'bout a quickie?" Her breath quickened as he took her hand and led her from the kitchen down the basement stairs.
She quickly kicked the washing machine on, then started the drier to add to the noise. He pulled her by the hand into his workshop, lifted her skirts, pulled her panties down, and lifted her onto the bench. She opened her blouse and spilled out into his mouth.
On the other end of the house Scott still had the chair propped under the door handle to guarantee his privacy. He had pulled the blinds once Jim had clamored through the window and now stood once again at the end of the bed showing off his red badge of courage to his buddy.
"How much did you see?" he asked Jim.
"Not much," Jim replied. "But I heard every crack and the whole lecture, that's for sure. I was to scared to watch. Scared he might look up and see me. Then I'd get the same as you."
"Well, I took his worst and gave him nothing but lip," Scott answered only half lying.
"Geez, Scott, have you seen your butt?"
"No, why?"
"Looks like you sat on the grill they use at the pig roast on the 4th of July is all. He really laid the belt on!"
"Tell me about it, moron! I was there, remember?"
"Listen dickhead," Jim teased, "I saw you gettin' a hard on before he came back to give you the whippin'. You all but asked for this one."
"Not hardly, dog breath. You think it's hot? Sometime when the wardens are out of the house, I'd be happy to take that belt to your ass? You want some?"
"Maybe," Jim answered truthfully. "Right now I just want to see what you can do with that hard on, Scott."
Scott listened carefully in the silence for any signs his parents might be on their way to his room. He heard only the wash machine and dryer whirring away in the basement. Then he took the towel off the bed and decided to take his friend's dare. Do something he had never done before.
"Well?" Jim said to egg Scott on to doing something Scott knew would get him a whipping even he would not want if his father ever found out.
"Looks like I'm not the only one with a hard on," Scott replied and he knelt on the bed and watched himself in the mirror as he began to jack off in front of his friend. "So let's see what you got in there . . . . and what you can do with it."
Scott continued to stroke slowly until that new feeling he had discovered began to rise through his thighs. Jim had slipped his pants down and pulled his own out to play with it.
"Just hearing your ol' man lay the belt on you from outside the window got me so hot," Jim whispered across the room. "Thought I was gonna cream my jeans."
"You may get the chance if my dad talks to yours about what we did today," Scott replied quietly as he milked the first drops out. "Maybe I should just tell my dad you came over here to take your punishment, too? You wanna try the end of the bed and see how YOU like it?"
Scott, still kneeling upright on the bed, started to spurt out onto the towel covering the mattress as his friend now stood, buck naked from the waist, bent over the foot of the bed, getting a very close view of Scott's load soaking into the towel. Scott had barely finished when Jim suddenly grabbed the towel, stuffed it between his own legs, and came as well. The two froze when they heard Scott's mother calling from the kitchen.
"Dinner's ready, Scott!" She barked down the hallway.
"I gotta go, Jim! Just let me get my pants on and get to the kitchen. Then you can slip out the window while we're eating. Whatever you do, dork, DON"T MAKE ANY NOISE!"
"Just make sure your dad is happy, Scott, and not calling mine. OK?"
"Bull_s_h_i_t_! Why should I? You love it, and I want to see you get it. What are friends for?" Scott teased as he quickly yanked his jockeys up and his jeans, then straightened his hair. He put the chair back at the dresser as Jim slipped into the closet with his own shorts and pants. "Just remember, jag off, NO _f_u_c_k_IN' NOISE!"
Jim smiled and closed the closet door to shut himself into the dark.
"Comin' Mom!" Scott yelled down the hallway as he opened the door. He looked back to the closet and quickly checked the room for any evidence. He saw Jim flip him the finger out of the closet door.
Scott was pleasantly surprised at the positive, relaxed atmosphere around the dinner table. Hard to believe this was the same man who, just an hour earlier, had given him a strapping which still hurt. And his mother was smiling like one of those special ed kids who just won the trophy for walking across the pool. Here was an opening and Scott was not about to miss this one.
"I'm really am sorry, dad," he said while his mother loaded his plate with the stew. "I know you don't like to have to do that. It's just that sometimes stuff seems to come out of my mouth which surprises even me. It's not gonna happen again, sir."
"I appreciate that Scott," his father replied. "And I know it's not easy growing up. I did it once, too. I keep hoping that maybe each time like today will be the last."
"That's up to me, I guess," Scott said, thinking inside there were likely going to be a few more trips to the end of his bed before he gave it up.
"Yes, it is, son. I have no doubt you're growing up just fine. High school will be good for you. New friends. New classes. Sports."
Under the table Scott's mother reached out with her foot to rub her toes on her husband's ankle. He smiled at her, wiggling his tongue ever so slightly between his lips.
"Ah, dad?"
"Yes, Scott?"
"About this morning. It was my idea to join the guys for diving off the rocks. Jim really had nothing to do with that but . . . " his voice trailed off.
"In other words, you want me to keep this to myself so your swimmin' buddy doesn't get a lickin' too?"
Scott blushed and said nothing.
"OK. You got it. No reason he should suffer, too. I think your punishment was enough for both of you. You can tell him you got your butt walloped for both of you."
"I will, dad," Scott replied, now smiling.
"Tell you what, son. Tonight you are excused from the dishes. I'll help your mother do them and you can cut the lawn. Deal?"
"Deal, dad." Boy, that was easy enough.
His parents, sometimes, could be downright embarrassing when they got the way they were clearing the dishes, Scott thought to himself. All that smirking and smooching and stuff. As he was on his way out to get the mower from the garage the phone rang. He grabbed it.
"Scott?" It was Jim's voice on the other end.
"Yeah? What you want, hairball?" Scott replied in a whisper into the phone.
"Just wanted to let you know I got out and got home ok."
"Good."
"How are things there?"
"Looks like the storm has cleared," Scott said. "Believe it or not my dad is doing dishes and I'm on my way out to cut the lawn. You have a good time today?"
"You know it!" Jim replied. "And the next time the wardens are out of your house, let me know. I want to give it a try."
"Ok, but you take it with the big black one he used today, Jim. You sure you want a taste?"
"You tell me when. I'll be there."