Craig, John, Bobby And a Witness


by Flogging Father

Two weeks had passed since I had been obliged to thrash Craig. The boys behaviour at school had not warranted their teachers contacting me with any tales of misbehaviour or disobedience and I was beginning to hope that perhaps the public beating I had given my eldest son had concentrated the minds of the two younger boys. I was, however, to be disappointed.

It being a Saturday I had allowed the boys out to play football in the little park around the corner from our home. The park was surrounded by houses and I had told the boys to play well away from the fences which separated the properties from the recreation area. There was ample room for several impromptu games to be played without doing what my sons had done, which was to repeatedly kick their football against someone's fence. The householder had asked them to play somewhere else but, as I was shortly to find out, my sons had been rude and cheeky to him. He said he would report them to their parents for being cheeky and the boys retorted by calling him a variety of names. When they left the park the man had followed them discreetly at a distance and a few moments after they arrived home there was a sharp knock at my door.

I answered the door to be confronted by an elderly bespectacled man. "I'm awfully sorry", he began, "but I simply have to bring your attention to your sons' behaviour." He had told me about the incident with the ball being kicked against the fence which annoyed me greatly but my annoyance with that matter was nothing compared with my anger when he went on. "I know boys will be boys but I really can't ignore the fact that they were also very rude. They called me an assortment of names". I asked him the nature of the names he had been called. "They called me old grumpy, old smelly, old farty pants and one or two other names I cannot recall" replied the polite old gentleman. I decided to call the boys into the house, (they had gone straight out into our large garden) to demand they apologised to the man. When the 3 lads saw who was standing next to me the smiles and grins on their faces turned to expressions of horror. I decided to ask the gentleman one final question. "Did all the boys insult you, or was it only one or two of them?" I enquired. He had confirmed that all the boys had been involved. I ordered each child to apologise personally which they did. I assured the man that an extremely painful punishment awaited the children and he said that he was glad I regarded corporal punishment as the appropriate response. He, himself, had been subject to strict discipline as a child and had never regretted it. It occurred to me that it would be a good idea if I invited the man to watch the punishments so that he could be satisfied I did indeed regard the matter with sufficient seriousness. He said he would, indeed, be happy to observe the discipline being administered.

We proceeded to the lounge, followed by 3 very contrite children. They could not believe the punishment was to be administered in front of a complete stranger. 3 boys lined up in a row dressed in white gymwear. They had taken off their plimsolls as they were instructed to do indoors. "Mr Brown, I have upstairs in my room a cane, a leather belt and a riding crop, which instrument do you think is the most appropriate for this punishment?" I asked. Mr Brown wanted to know if it was the first time the boys had been guilty of this type of behaviour and I replied that it was. "Then I think the belt should be used this time" he decided. "Craig, go to my bedroom and bring me the belt from my cupboard" I ordered my eldest son. Craig ran up the stairs returning with the large razor strap to which I had attached a wooden handle. The strap was about 3 inches wide and nicely thick. Craig handed me the strap. I turned to Mr Brown "How many strokes should I give each child" I wanted to know. He told me that when he was a boy his father equated his children's ages with the severity of the punishment and I decided that was a very good solution. Before I began the strapping however I felt it appropriate to lecture the children on the importance of good behaviour.

"You have all been told that I expect from you all a satisfactory standard of behaviour when you go out. I do not expect people to come to this house and tell me my sons have been misbehaving. I have already made clear to you what will happen if you fail to meet my standards of behaviour. You have all been very naughty and also extremely rude and you will now take the consequences. Take off your shorts immediately." The three boys lowered their white gym shorts and stepped out of them. Bobby, at 8, the youngest was wearing light blue briefs which clearly showed he had wet himself slightly, presumably at the thought of his impending thrashing. Craig now stood in tiny red briefs whereas John, my middle son at 10 years of age had clearly decided to dispense with underwear that morning and stood naked from the waist down. "Bobby. Bend over the sofa" I ordered and the 8 year old stretched himself over the arm holding , with outstretched arms, the seat fabric. "Would you care to lower the boys briefs, Mr Brown?" I asked and the elderly man obliged with, it must be said, great enthusiasm. I stood behind the small backside and informed Bobby he would receive 8 strokes. I told him he must not get up until I ordered him to. The children were allowed to make noise whilst enduring punishment but I was not prepared to tolerate any attempt at delaying or preventing a beating, I then drew back my arm and delivered a searing crack of leather to my young son's bottom. A plaintive "PLEEASE, DAD" rang out but, unmoved, I repeated the dose causing a further scream. I glanced at Mr Brown and noticed he was watching intently and I was certain he was aroused by the proceedings. Strokes 3 and 4 followed and my 8 year old son was sobbing and begging me for mercy. Believing he would probably be able to contain himself no longer and leap up from the punishment position I asked Mr Brown to sit on the sofa and hold the boy's hands down. Mr Brown gladly obliged and I continued with the remaining 4 lashes, each one bringing an even higher pitched scream than the one previous. After the final lash I waited for a few moments before telling Bobby to get up and, without raising his briefs, go and stand in the corner.

I now turned my attention to 10 year old John. "You are next John, bend over the sofa" I suggested Mr Brown remained on the sofa and held John's hands down for the duration. 10 strokes was the punishment for John and I began his beating without preamble. Each lash of the leather caused the boy to yelp and plead for mercy but I was determined a lesson had to be given. Eventually, the 10 strokes delivered I ordered John, quivering and crying uncontrollably, to join his younger brother in the corner. Turning my attention to Craig I said "You are the eldest and should set a better example to your brothers. I was sorely tempted to have you bring the whip down for your punishment. However on this occasion the belt will suffice. Bend over the sofa". Craig complied and, without being asked, Mr Brown grasped his wrists firmly. I moved behind the 12 year old boy and peeled his red briefs down to his knees. The marks from the caning I had given Craig 2 weeks before were still slightly visible. I paused briefly before cracking the strap hard across the centre of the boys backside eliciting the expected cry for mercy. Craig is 12 and therefore 12 strokes was his quota. Each of the dozen was accompanied by screams of "PLEEEESE DAAAAD" or "DAAAD I'M SORRY !!" but held in place by Mr Brown's firm grasp he remained in place until, his thrashing over, I ordered him to join his siblings in the corner.

I thanked Mr Brown for bringing my sons' misbehaviour to my attention and told him to be sure to do so again if they caused him bother in the future. Mr Brown thanked me profusely and said he felt sure the boys would not trouble him again but he would be sure to tell me if they did. He shook my hand and I apologised to him for his inconvenience. He said it was not at all inconvenient but that he was gratified to see a parent who took misbehaviour seriously. Casting one final eye over the still sobbing boys in the corner he bade me farewell and returned home. I was sure Mr Brown had enjoyed the experience of seeing my instant justice administered. Closing the door behind him I told the boys to go to their rooms . As was the custom after a beating shorts were not to be put back on that day so Craig and Bobby would remain in briefs until bedtime and the unfortunate John would have to stay bare from the waist down for the rest of the day.


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