Molding a Young Man's Character


by Graham

 "Uh! Huah! Uh-auh-h-huh! Unnnnnn-uhh! Uhh! Nnnghaaa! Uph! Uh-uh- ummmnnnnphaaa! Aaaaa-uh-HUAAAAaaah! Nnnnnghaa-uh-uh-huangaaa! Uh-uh-uh!"

Steve was sweating profusely, and his breathing was heavy, fast, gasping. His face and neck were red and strained, his mouth agape, from the exertion of struggling. His eyes alternately squinted and widened with shock and pain.

Worse still were his behind -- and his pride. He was 23 years old, yet now found himself overturned, sprawled across his father's lap. His face was pushed into the carpet, his right arm held up against the middle of his back, and his feet and legs thrashing and kicking into the air -- off the floor -- as his Dad's constant pounding heated up the seat of his University of Kansas basketball shorts.

Dumbfounded by this incredible happening, by the rising heat and pain, and by the mounting outrage and indignation, he had at first tried to wrest free from the captive hold that restrained him on his father's lap, and tried to forestall the abash of his embarrassment and alarm. As soon as he had been hauled over his father's lap, Steve had been jolted into alertness and wariness. Immediately, he had pushed himself up and away from his Dad, trying to wrench himself off the knees over which he now found himself draped.

Steve was a swimmer and golfer, who worked out daily and was in trim, muscled condition. He had sandy hair and pale, blue eyes, but at 5'9", 140 lbs, he took after his mother, a slight, fair lady. Steve's Dad, also had sandy hair and darker blue eyes. He was 52, 6'2", and 180 lbs, in strong shape from years of hard workouts several times a week.

Steve's exerted force was met by Mr. Appleton's left hand and arm that pushed the back of Steve's head and his upper back down over his father's left leg, and right arm that encircled Steve's waist like a clamp, pulling him back into place. That's when his Dad had grabbed Steve's right arm, almost dumping the young man onto his head, and yanking the arm out from supporting Steve, pulling and then pushing it up against his back, along with is t-shirt, exposing his bare back from the shoulder blades down.

He was pinned into position. Mr. Appleton bounced his own right leg and thigh, bobbling Steve further over the left side of his father's lap, and lifting Steve's behind higher into the air, and his feet from touching the floor. Then the assault on Steve's backside began.

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

His Dad's strong, stone-like hand came crashing down over and over against the seat of Steve's shorts. WHEWWWWHH!! He had long ago forgotten what this felt like. Now, at 23, he was suddenly being familiarized with it again. He couldn't believe this.

"Alright, Dad. Very funny. Enough! What's your point?" he had quickly replied in response to the first dozen or so swats.

"I think you know very well, Steven," his Dad had tersely replied, and intensified the swats.

WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"HEY! Cut it out!," Steven had returned. "You can't DO this! I'm not a little kid, you know! I'm 23! Stop it NOW! STOP IT! You CAN'T DO THIS! Uhgh! STOP! STOP! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!! STOP IT NOW!!" he shouted his orders to his Dad.

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

The barrage to the seat of Steve's shorts continued, without halt. The strong, repeated punishment to his behind was warming it up real fast. Never had he envisioned anything like this happening, and now he felt himself overturned, locked in a trap to be tanned. His brain was being overloaded with alarms of pain and discomfort, as his Dad's strong, pummeling hand roasted his rearend. Oh! WOW! OW! OW! OW! OWW! He had to get this stopped. He settled into conceding to his Dad for now, and reserving the rest of his pride for dealing with the situation later.

"OK, Dad! You're right. Uh! I . . . yuh! . . .uh-uh! . . . know-uh! I was wrong! Uh-uah-uh! I'll-uh! Uh-uh! DO what you-uh! WANT! Uh-uh-Owww! THAT'S IT! Now, cut it OUT! NOW! OWW!"

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

His Dad spoke while he kept on spanking. "You may decide to finally do what we've been telling you, son! But if not, your choices are to move out, or expect frequent reoccurrence of these sessions! At any rate, Steven, you're going to always remember this one!"

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"For 5 years, Steven, you've hung around here, . . ."

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"not working, not going to school, not paying rent -- living like a baby, like a lazy bum!"

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"Your mother has put up with it all this time, while you loaf and live like a little boy, wanting to play around all the time."

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"Well, this is the end, son! You will either go to school, or get a fulltime job -- and pay a reasonable rent here -- or you'll be standing and walking everywhere . . ."

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"'cause your backside will be constantly blistered. You want to behave like a little boy? Fine, then you're going to be treated like a bad, misbehaving one."

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"Or, you can move out on your own. Make up your mind --

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

"after we finish this long-overdue session today!"

WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

Steve was beside himself. His behind was smoldering. The pain and indignity of succumbing to the discipline of a spanking, at his age, were more than his pride and rearend could take. He began to add to his concessions begging and pleading, promises and apologies.

"OK! DAD! I'm SORRY! I can EXPLAIN! Let's work it OUT! Please! PLEASE! Aaugh! Please! I'll do what you WANT! UH-uh! What you SAY! Huh-uh-uh! Ow! I PROMISE! Ow! DAD! LET'S WORK IT OUT! OW! DAD! LET ME EXPLAIN! OWW! DAD! Ooooah-DAD! I SAID I'M SORRY! DAD! P-PLEASE! I'M SORRY! Oa-yuh-uh! Oww! DAD! Puh-LEEEZ! OOO-uh-uh! Haugh-uh-uh! AHM-uh-uh! S-SORREEE-DAD!"

No words, and no relenting from Mr. Appleton. The machine-like volley of swats continued all over the bottom of Steve's shorts and upper thighs.

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! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!

Steve was frantic -- desperate. He kicked, scooted, slid, and bounced around over his Dad's lap -- as much as his Dad's leveraged grasp of him would allow. Shouting and screaming, he begged and pleaded, promised and agreed, while tears began gathering in the reservoirs of his eyes.

"Oh-STOPIT! STOPIT! Oh-ah-yow! NO MORE! Aa-yuh-ow! PLEASE! I'M- aaah! SOREEEEE! DAD! I-PROMISE! I-PROMISE! OOO-PLEEEZ! Augh-uh! Uh! Huh! N-NOOO! Uh! MOOOR! Ayauguh! Uh-uh-uh! You're RIGHT! O-ah-o-ah-yoweee! DAD! I SAID YOUR RIGHT! N-NOOO-ah-uh-uh! STOP! I'LL DO WHAT YOU Haugh-uh! Ooo-aaa-eeeyow! Uh-uh! I'LL DO WHAT YOU WANT! I PROMISE! Oooo! DAD! DAD! OWOWOW! Ooooo-aiyaugh! Uh-uh-uh! Hu-uh! Uh! Haiughah! Uh-uh-uh!"

The floodgates burst open, pouring from Steve's squinting eyes. Bawling and sobbing drowned out and choked his words. He bucked, bounced, and pushed across his Dad's knees. His legs and feet thrust out and he wriggled his butt, trying to elude the hammer of his father's hot heavy hand and to shake out the flaming pain.

Mr. Appleton paused quickly. His right hand reached up to the waistband of Steve's basketball shorts and jerked them off Steve's butt, down his thighs and past his knees to his ankles. Steve started to gasp an outburst of protest when his Dad reached up and did the same thing to his boxers, leaving his reddened bottom bare.

"AHHHH-NOOOO, DAD! YOU CAAAAAAN'T! NOT . . ."

The cool air was a stark astonishment against the sizzling heat of his ignited butt. He writhed in his Dad's grip, futilely trying to flee. He was incensed by his Dad dealing with him like a small, misbehaving child. He was outraged with all the strength he could muster, but he didn't have much left.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

OH! WOW-OW-OW-OW-OW-OWW!!! The same hand was now thundering against his already fiery, but-now-bare, bottom.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

His Dad spanked every area of his exposed bottom, his upper thighs, and the insides of his buttocks. He was in agony. The unending, stinging blitz vibrated from his burning backside to his bewildered brain. He was defeated. He surrendered.

"OOOO-ah-D-DAD! Stopit! Stopit! PLEEEZ! OW! OW! OW! PLEEZ! N-NOOO! Uh-uh! M-MOOR! I'LL BE GOOD! OweeyoweeYOW! N-NO-uh-M-MOOR! D-DAD! NO! NO MORE! AUGH! YEOW-OW-OW! STOP SPANKING! Uh-uh-augh-uh! Ooooooo-ah! Nomore-Augh! It HURRRRZ! OOO-Uh! IT HURZ-SO-BAD! Aaah-uh! N-NOMOOR-uh! S-SPANKING! P-PLE-Augh-uh! OoooYOW-OW-OWEEE! AHLBEGOOD!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Uh-uh-uh-haugh-uh! AHLBEGOOD! AHL-Yeeeeoww! D-DO WHAT YOU SAY! Uh-uh-WHATYOUWAAANT!! OOOO-ah-I PROMISE! I WILL! I WILL! NOOOO-MOOR! DADEEE! DADEEE! PLEEZ! STOP SPANKING! Ooooo-AUGH-ah-uh! Uhuh-uhaugh! STOP SPANK-Uh! Ugh! Uh-EENG! Uaghuh! AIEEEYOW-EEYOW! OO-ah-ahllbe-Uh!! G-GOOD! AHLBEGOOD! D-DADEEEE! DADEEE! Haugh-uh-uh! I-uh-P-PROMISE! Nngaugh! Uh-augh-huh-uh! D-DADEEE! PLEEZ! Oaaah! STOPIT! STOPIT! PLEEEZ!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Mr. Appleton was unrelenting. He blistered Steve's bottom until the young man was shrieking and wailing, amidst gagging coughs and gasps, begging and promising to be good like a small boy being spanked. When he had finished, he let his son remain dangling over his lap, heaving and shaking his unintelligible sobs. As Steve's racking sobs subsided, his Dad reached under his arms and lifted him up, off the knees over which he had hung, being punished.

Steve's legs were wobbly, and he doubled over immediately, while stepping up and down, up and down, from the burning, throbbing pain in his bare behind.

"Leave your shorts down for now, Steven, and go stand in that corner over there. Don't even look around, or think about leaving, until I tell you to. You hear me, young man?"

"Augh-uh-y-yes, sir," Steve stammered and waddled over to the living room corner where he inserted his face, still crying and shuddering. He stood there more than an hour before his father allowed him to leave.

"Okay. Pull up your shorts, Steven, and get in your bedroom and get it all cleaned up -- as your mother has been after you to do for months! Put all the clothes away, make your bed, and get it spick-and-span. I'll check after supper, and if it isn't, you can count on session number 2 tonight! And no more slamming the door, young man! Do you understand, Steven?"

"Y-uh-y-yes, sir," he whimpered his stuttered response. Then, gingerly, he bent over and slowly pulled up his boxers and basketball shorts over his sore bottom. He walked stiffly out of the living room, down the hall and into his room, where he consciously left the door slightly ajar. He worked until supper time, getting his room in order.

At supper, as he sat at the dinner table with his two brothers, ages 15 and 12, it was obvious from the way he kept shifting in his seat, not to mention his red eyes, that something had taken place to upset Steven that afternoon. Later, that evening, they overheard their Dad telling their mother about the spanking he had given Steven, and the future that included many more of the same for him if he continued to live in their house, but to disobey their conditions.

Steve got busy and found fulltime work. He had to learn some more lessons the hard way, from the seat of his shorts. But eventually he became a reliable employee. He moved out at 24; but when he realized how expensive it was to live on his own while trying to save for college, he returned to live in his parents' home, subject to his Dad's discipline, if and when he got out of line.

At 28, he settled down enough to go to college, went fulltime, year-round, and graduated at 31. During his college years, he returned to live with his parents during vacations and breaks, and his Dad continued to administer appropriate discipline if Steve's grades began to suffer from neglect or insufficient attention -- or if the young man showed an inclination to become irresponsible. Needless to say, Steve graduated.

After graduation, Steve decided to go to dental school. He borrowed a year's worth of money from his parents to do so. With such a sizeable debt, Steve remained accountable to his Dad, and his Dad's discipline, whenever he deviated from his responsibilities.

Finally, at 33 and with a professional career, Steve moved away, married, and began a family of his own. Years later, he realized that if his Dad had not taken him in hand in his young adulthood, he might never have straightened up his life to become the man he now was.


More stories by Graham