Riding down the street on an August Saturday night, Ryan was soaked with sweat through his clothes and underwear, down into his socks. He had been playing basketball with a bunch of other guys for hours on Saturday afternoon. Now, after 6 p. m., riding his bike and holding a basketball with one hand, he was wearily pedaling home. At 16, Ryan was 6' tall and about 165 pounds. He was strong, if skinny, and wiry too. He would begin his junior year of high school in two weeks.
He blinked harshly as the sweaty grime ran into his eyes. He just wanted to soak in a hot tub, then eat supper, clean up the house, and lie in bed drifting off to sleep on an early Saturday night. His parents would be returning tomorrow evening. They had gone on a two-week vacation, taking Ryan's little sister and brother with them. They left Ryan at home to complete his driver education course, the last prerequisite to getting his prized driver's license.
Before they left, his Mom and Dad had stressed that he was not to have anyone in the house while no adult was home, he was to be in by dark – about 9:30 p. m. – and he was to keep the house clean so his Mom would not return to a mess. After a solid night's sleep, Ryan had planned to spend the following day cleaning up the house for his parents' arrival.
As he turned the corner onto his street, Ryan gasped to himself silently. OH NO! THEY'RE HOME EARLY! His Dad's car was parked in the driveway. This was not supposed to be! How could they come back early? Then, it quickly sunk in: the house was a mess. Not only had Ryan disobeyed, and had several buddies in during the two weeks; they had slept over, had sneaked in beer from their parents' refrigerators and drank it; and the house was a complete mess of beer cans, dirty dishes, and unmade beds. Fortunately, the guys had taken their sleeping bags that morning, as Ryan had stressed that he had to get the house cleaned the next day.
As he rode up to the house, he gulped hard several times, trying to think of what to say to his parents. Quietly, he walked up the steps to the side door, and into the kitchen. His Mom was at the kitchen sink, loads of suds and dirty dishes before her, scrubbing two weeks of unwashed dishes. His Dad walked in carrying a bag full of empty beer cans that he had collected from the living room, family room, and bedrooms.
"Mom! Dad! You're home early!" he broke the silence. His Mom turned around to stare at him, her eyes burning with anger and upset at him. His Dad looked up and gazed emotionless as his son.
"Ah . . . ah, I know there's a mess here, but I was going to have it all . . . ah . . . cleaned up by the time you got home tomorrow. I mean . . . "
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Suddenly, his Dad was at his side, grabbed Ryan's right arm bending him over, and swatting the boy's sweat-soaked shorts.
"You flat out disobeyed, son," his Dad declared, landing some more swats to his terrified son's rearend. WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! "Well, like always, young man, there's a price to pay, and you will pay the price." With that his Dad began pummeling the already warming seat of the boy's wet shorts.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Ryan was jumping with each swat to his bottom. He pulled from his Dad, pleading: "Please, Dad. Don't. You can ground me. I deserve it. But don't spank me – please!"
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
His Dad laid 5 more into his son's pulsating backside before he stopped.
"Dad! Don't, please! I'll be grounded! I'll be grounded! Stop! Please!"
"Alright, young man. You'll get your wish. You are not to go anywhere without your Mother or me. You're grounded – until after Christmas!"
WHAT?! His Dad couldn't mean that! That was like a death sentence! After all, he was about to get his driver's license, and then he couldn't go anywhere for 4 months!
"But, Dad . . ." he began to object.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! His Dad resumed the swats, and Ryan quickly jumped and capitulated at the same time.
"OK OK, I'll take it. I will, but stop it, please!"
His Dad released his grip on Ryan's arm and the young student instantly reached back to his heated, still-wet behind.
"All right, young man. You better get yourself busy helping clean up this hogs' yard. Then, after supper, you get yourself showered and into bed. If you're wise, I think you'll make yourself scarce for a while – if you know what's good for you."
Ryan began picking up rugs and taking them outside to shake. Then he pulled out his mother's big vacuum and began vacuuming the mess that had collected on the floors throughout the house from the two weeks of him and his buddies.
He was absorbed in the sound of the vacuum and the task of cleaning up messes, when he heard the telephone ring. Ominously, he stopped the vacuum and listened. His Mom had answered the phone.
"Yes, Sue. Sure. No, don't worry about that. We want to know. What? Well, I just can't believe it. Somebody had a high old time of defying and disobeying while we were gone. Sure. That's serious, Sue, real serious. I know Jim will be very concerned. Here, let me put him on."
His Mom then paused and handed the telephone to his Dad. "Hello. Oh, yes, Mrs. Thompson. This is Jim Donaldson. What's the problem? What? When? You saw it? Who else was involved? Two others? OK, thanks. I appreciate your being aware and concerned. You bet we are too. OK. Well, thanks again. We will deal with it. You can bet on that. Bye now." His Dad hung up.
Ryan had an almost certain prediction of what had just happened. Mrs. Thompson was the next door neighbor who always seemed to see and know everything wrong that he ever did.
"Ryan, come in here right now," his Dad commanded. Leaving the vacuum handle upright, he walked briskly back into the kitchen.
"Did you take Mom's care out of the garage, and drive out on the highway? Better be careful."
"Y-yes, sir. I d-did," he stammered. He knew better than to lie. "B-but I was going t-to explain . . ."
"You know there's nothing to explain, Ryan, " his Dad cut him off. "You have been told not to touch the car, and you know you weren't supposed to do it. Then you took Jimmy and Mike with you. You could have had a wreck, killed someone or been killed, or both. Why would you deliberately disobey us, Ryan?"
He was cornered. Dropping his head, he stared at the floor. "Ah, I-ah-m, ah, sorry, Dad."
"Sorry doesn't do it, son. There's way too much defiant, deliberate disobedience going on here. Obviously, we should never have gone and left you alone here. But you are going to learn a lesson you won't forget for the rest of your life, young man. Get over here immediately!"
When he saw his Dad pull out a kitchen chair and sit down, Ryan knew at once what was intended. Slowly, he started to back away. In an instant, his Dad was on his feet, grabbing his son around his back and around his chest with one strong arm, and reaching under Ryan's behind and through his legs, lifting the young man up into his arms like an oversized baby.
It all happened with such surprise and speed that Ryan couldn't believe he was being lifted up in his Dad's grip, as his Dad carried him over to the chair and sat back down. Still holding his son up in his arms, Mr. Donaldson lowered the young man. Turning him over face downward, he dragged him across his lap. Ryan knew all-too-well what lay ahead. His Dad juggled him across his knees as the young man slid farther forward, face peering at the kitchen floor. He felt his right arm pulled back and twisted up against his upper back, as he lay trapped hanging over his Dad's knees. His legs were stretched for his tip toes to touch the floor.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!!
WHEW! This was way too much too fast! Ryan wasn't prepared for this swift, hard battering of his already warmed-up bottom. His Dad was thundering his behind.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
In just a matter of minutes, Ryan was bouncing and bucking, kicking and thrusting, twisting and sliding, trying to get away and off of his Dad's lap. His behind was ablaze, and he was starting to groan and huff as he felt the shock to his brain of each swat to his backside. He was desperate and pleading.
"P-PLEASE, DAD! ST-STOP! OOOAAAM-OW! STOP IT! P-PLEASE! AH-I-AH- WAS WRONG-AH-OOOUMMAA! OWCH! BUT P-PLEASE! NOOO! NOOO! ST- STOPIT! P-PLEEEZ! AH-M-AH-S-SORREEE! AH-AH-S-SORREEEE! DAD! P-PLEEZ!"
His Dad kept on spanking harder and faster, and Ryan began crying out.
"OK-OK-OK! I WAS WRONG! OOO-AH-OWOWOWWW! I'M-AH-S-SORREEE! OOOO-UH-UH-NOOO-UH-AH-MOOOR! I-UH-KN-KNOW IT W-WAS-AH-WRONG! OOO-UH-ST-STOPIT, P-PLEEZ! OWOWOWWW! IT WAS WRONG! OOOO-OW- OOOO! WRONG! B-BAD! OKOK! YEEEOWWW! I-UH-W-WAS-UH-UH-B-BAD! OOOO-EEEYOWWW!"
His Dad stopped, and Ryan gasped, thinking about how close to the edge of complete collapse he had come. Suddenly, he felt his Dad gripping the waste band of his shorts, and yanking them over his butt and down his legs to his ankles. Before he could protest, his underpants followed swiftly to join his shorts. He gasped his protest!
"UHH-AH-YAIEAUGH!-UH-NOOOOO-AH, NOOOOOOAAAA!!"
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!
A storm of spanks descended on his bare, but already burning, behind. He couldn't believe how much this hurt, how hard and fast his Dad was spanking, and how automatically this brought him to sobs and shrieks. He wriggled and twisted, kicked and jumped, screaming harder and harder – all in vain. His Dad never relented for a moment.
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!!
"OOO-UH-D-DAD! UH-P-PLEEEZ! D-DADDEEE-UH-OOO-YEOW-UH-EYOW-UH-PUHLEEEZ! NOOOO-UH-MOOR-UH! IT HURTS-UH-SOOO-UH-BAAAD! I'M S-SORREEE! D-DAD! I-UH-UH-S-SAID-UH-I'M-UH-S-SORR-YEOWOWOW-UH-S-SORREEE! OOOO-UH- UH! NOOO-UH-PUH-LEEZ-UH-LL-AH-N-NEVER-UH-UH-AGAIN! I PROMISE! OOOO! UH-UH-I P-PROMISE! I'LLBEGOOD, I'LLBEGOOD, I'LLBEGOOD! AIEEYAUGH-UH- OOOO-UH-HAUGH-UH-OOOOO-UH–UH-NOOOO-UH . . ."
Ryan gave in and let his shrieking sobs take over. He gasped, choked, sobbed, and shook, as he felt the fiery blistering on his bottom drive him to deeper wailing and weeping. When it was all over, he lay dangling across his Dad's lap for several minutes, as his Father lectured him further.
"In a few minutes, son, you get up, get in the tub and clean yourself up – you're a filthy mess! Then get yourself into bed, and we'll see you for church bright and early in the morning. You are grounded until after New Years now, and tomorrow night you're going to get the second of these spankings. Do you hear me?"
"Aiugh-uh-y-yes, ah-uh-sir, D-Dad," Ryan stumbled to reply as he gasped, and choked, and sobbed. "
"Right before supper tomorrow night, you go to your bedroom and wait for me. I'll be there, and we'll repeat tonight's lesson, with a bit more intensity."
"Y-yes, s-uh-sir," Ryan choked out. Then his Dad lifted him up off the lap, and he trudged off into the bathroom, heaving and crying, his tangled shorts and briefs still around his ankles. After a short, fast bath, he was wrapped in a towel, hobbling off to his bedroom, where he gingerly pulled on his pajamas, and then slid into bed on his stomach. Sleep came instantly, and the next evening he found himself in the same position, in the same place, undergoing the same shocking spanking.
After that, he had four, long months to recall the lessons for disobeying, administered at the hands of his Dad. During that time, he received five more severe spankings, each time he failed to to reign in his feelings and speech, and to do what he was told. They were lessons well-learned, however. And when January rolled around, Ryan was a humbled, far-more-obedient young man, who knew to listen and take seriously what his parents told him, and to obey with respect.