22 - Matt's First Paddling


by Jason L. Parker <Jlpspanker@hotmail.com>

In 1997-98, I posted a series of true-life stories that got a lot of very positive e-mail response from readers of this website. I never finished the series, until now. In reviewing these original submissions, I have edited these stories and now repost them with typo corrections, etc. These repostings will be done every couple of days, and the series completed with new stories. This series begins when I was 11, and ends a year ago, with the stories posted chronologically. Enjoy!

Just before school, Barbara and the boys moved out because her ex-husband unexpectedly came back into their lives. Mike and Tim didn't need to be confused by the presence of their father, and me as their surrogate dad.

During the Christmas holidays, I spent some time in California with my cousin Larry and his family. Larry was almost 10 years older, but because of my father's occupation, flying to California as a kid cost me $3-. Therefore, he and I had spent time together often at his father's home outside of Knotts Berry Farm in L. A. His only son Matt was just 10 years younger than I was, and he and I were also close.

Matt was pure southern California. Blonde, blue eyes, perpetually tanned, 6' 1", swimmer's build, but with the legs and buns of a soccer player. He was 18, going on 29 in his own mind. He was doing rotten in college and was constantly fighting with his father. Larry was a real wimp as a parent.

As my visit was coming to an end, Matt asked if he could spend some time with me in the Midwest, between semesters before he went back to college. I was surprised by his request, but we made the date over a long weekend.

He showed up at the airport, expecting to find a little chill in the air, but not 3 below zero. He had rarely ever felt freezing, much less zero. We got to the house, and he immediately backed up to the recreation room's Franklin stove putting out it's heat.

Over the next couple of days, we pretty much stayed in the house, going out only in the evening to dinner and the movies. This was the longest period of time I had spent with Matt ever. The more we talked the more I realized just how bitter he was with Larry and his mother over their divorce. All of his rebellion had been one way or the other prompted by those feelings....and for the first time he was able to vent his anger, sometimes screaming and crying.

As the visit progressed, he began to see a side of me he hadn't seen before either. I didn't take any _s_h_i_t_ from any teenager, even if he was family and even if he was a houseguest. I made my bluff stick, without having to do any harm to his butt, though I did make the threat and showed Matt the paddle. I could tell he knew I was serious. As our visit was winding down, he hit me with a request that caught me off guard. He wanted to move back to the wintry Midwest and go back to school under my guidance, not his father's.

"Matt, this is a different world than L. A. There are no beaches, no movie stars, no Mulhollan Drive....nothing like that at all. Furthermore, you would have to start over with new friends. Plus, with your mouth and attitude, my paddle and your cotton-covered buns will become painfully familiar. Do you really want to make that kind of change?", I asked intently.

He looked at me and shook his head "yes".

"Jason, in five days I have spent here, I feel more comfortable than at anytime I can think of since Mom & Dad got divorced. The paddle does scare me. But, I also know you need someone around here when you are on the road.", he replied, running his hand through his sun bleached hair.

Matt was right. Since Barbara had moved out, Dave next door had kind of looked out for me, but it wasn't the same as having someone in the house every night.

We talked some more, and then I went to get Mike and Tims' demerit/merit books. Matt had never seen anything like that. He began to realize that if he didn't actually do the things that make up a serious college student and houseboy....he was going to be paddled. I stated up front that at his age and size, there would be no hand spankings....only paddlings. For the rest of the evening we discussed his goals and what it was going to take to reach them in school. Then we drew up his personal merit and demerit schedule for Matt. If he met his goals in school, he wouldn't need to work for spending money. I had a second car, because of my constant traveling, so he had a car to use. He called his father and everything was set.

The next day we registered him at the local junior college and he got on the late flight back to L. A. Two days later he was back. His life began anew.

For the first two weeks things we fairly well. He began to accumulate demerits for minor things and realized that he was getting close to the limit, before he had to strip to his briefs and bend over. Then he pulled a real stupid stunt.

The biggest demerit penalty was lying to me. The second was putting the home in jeopardy. Specifically having someone over while I was out of town. Matt didn't realize that my neighbor Dave was on the lookout for that very thing. As a retired county sheriff from outstate he had good eyes & police procedures. Sure enough Matt had some kids over one evening, they stayed late. Dave had the license plate run, so when I got home I knew someone had been to the house. I walked into the recreation room and Matt was watching the evening NBC news, slouched on the couch.

"Matt, did you break any rules that should be entered into your book while I was gone?', I asked casually.

He didn't verbally answer, just shook his head. I got the demerit book out of the kitchen and gave it to him.

"Matt, read the penalty for lying to me out of your demerit book.", I ordered with a lot more authority in the voice. Matt began to act very nervous, but he did.

"Now Matt, read me the penalty for having people to his house while I am gone!", I said even louder. Matt really was sweating bullets now, but he got through it.

"Matt, how many demerit points have you just earned in the last 3 minutes?", I barked at him.

"Eighteen, Jason. Please don't paddle me. I was caught off guard by your question. I won't ever lie to you again. Pplleeaassee, don't paddle me.", he pleaded.

Over the next few minutes we discussed his actions and his lie. Evidently it was very common for him to lie to his father. He also knew that he was about ready to get his first paddling from me.

My methods for demerit spankings are simple. Each act is treated separately. Matt's lie was 10 demerits. The no visitor rule was 8 demerits. Since I wanted him to be punished only for these two acts, I didn't bring into the discussion the accumulation of minor household items already on the books. The paddle swats given are determined by a throw of the dice. If the act has not been done in the previous 90 days, one die is used. If the act was previously punished once, two dice are used, etc. So Matt was going to get to throw one die, twice. Once for the violation of the visitor rule and once for lying. I was going to let him keep his white fashion briefs on for his first punishment paddling.

"Matt, wait here for me to get a couple of things. Put the barstool in the middle of the room. You take off your shirt and drop your jeans to your ankles. If you do as I say, you get to keep on your underpants, so be ready when I get back.", I ordered very sternly. I went to the bedroom and got three of my older dress ties, the paddle and the die. When I came back he was standing next to the barstool.

I had him put his arms out straight, elbows and wrists together. I tied his wrists together tight. I left quite a bit of tie material when I tied his elbows together. I pulled him to about three feet behind the barstool. I had him spread his knees apart, putting his legs at a weird angle, since his jeans were keeping his ankles together. Then I pushed to stool over, the seat back between his knees. Then I guided his hands onto the bottom rung, and pushed the stool upright. Now he was partially upside down, his almost hairless thighs on top of the stool seat, his legs separated by the seat back, his head almost touching the floor and his buns spread and waiting....a true wheel barrow position.

I pulled his ankles up to the seat back and tied his jeans/ankles to the seat back. I bent over and tied his elbows to the front chair legs. Then I smoothed out the thin fabric of his white briefs. He wore a hip style of fashion brief, with a white thin flat knit, not the usual rib knit of men's briefs. I could see his ass crack outlined in the stretched material. I laid the paddle on his buns, and dropped the single die in front of him and watched in turn up "4" black dots.

"Matt, what is four times eight.", as I picked up the paddle and rubbed it across his angled and targeted cotton covered buns.

"Thirty-two, Jason".

"CRACK" My first swat covered both cheeks and his body jerked and he screamed.

"NNOO!!"

"CRACK" Same spot and he started bucking and heaving. It was obvious he had never been paddled.

Thirty more times the paddle struck his buns, he was openly crying by the seventh swat, totally incoherent by the last.

I stopped and put the paddle down next to his head. I then massaged his buns....lecturing him on why he had just gotten paddled.

Then I picked up the single dice and dropped it. "Six" black dots turned up.

"NNOO JASON. I can't take anymore. I don't want to live with you and get my butt beat this bad. Let me loose. I want to go to back home.", he begged twisting his head around trying to talk me out of his fate.

"Matt, let me read you our agreement." And I did from the demerit book.

"Now, after your paddling you can move out. But you are going to get what you agreed to before I untie you.", I said quietly, picking the paddle back up.

"Six times ten is sixty. And sixty is what I am going to give you." I said as I raised the paddle and gave him the hardest swat yet. He screamed so loud it hurt my ears as his head snapped back and his body arched.

I gave him the rest of his spanking very slow. Making sure he felt each one. When it was finally over, I did untie him. But, he was so sore and stiff, he could barely make it to the couch, much less California. I pulled down his briefs and massaged his multi-colored buns and we discussed his first paddling. He didn't move back to California, and that wasn't worst or last paddling he got from me as he completed junior college.

This story is true, just certain names have been modified. I travel in my own business, and have the freedom to safely satisfy the spanking needs of interested readers.


More stories by Jason L. Parker