"Alright, son, pick your poison," Pa said, holding up the strap in one hand and the paddle in the other.
I stood there nervously, trying to decide as quickly as possible so I could get the whole ordeal over with. Pa always gave me a choice when it came to my punishments. I'm not exactly sure why he did it -- maybe he thought it built strength of character to make his son pick the method of discipline to best fit his crimes. At any rate, there were pros and cons to each tool, for each one carried its own specific ritual to be carried out.
If I chose the strap in Pa's left hand, I would be bent over a chair with my ass bared from the start. If I chose the paddle, Pa would give me the licking over his knee, starting out over my briefs, then pulling them down when he was good and ready, finally finishing me off bare. And because of my briefs, the paddle provided more of a warm-up; however, the intensity of the strap meant the punishment usually didn't last as long. Short and intense or slow and long? After a moment more, I decided.
"The paddle, sir," I said, choosing a punishment that would provide less initial shock. Besides, it was a more intimate punishment than the strap, and for some reason, I needed to feel the security of being over Pa's knee today, even if he was tanning my ass.
"Alright," Pa said, putting the strap down. "Take off your shirt and pants."
I did as I was instructed, watching as Pa sat down in the punishment chair he'd pulled out from the corner of the basement. Throwing my shirt on the floor, and sliding my jeans down across my tight white briefs, I soon grew even more nervous about the punishment that I would soon receive.
I walked over to Pa, who was now seated and ready. He grabbed my arm firmly and pulled me down over his knee like he had so many times before in my life, though never out of anger -- only out of frustration from my bad behavior.
Pa shifted me into position over his knee, pulling me closer, our crotches pressing against one another. As I felt Pa rest the paddle on my brief-clad butt, I felt the compelled to apologize.
"Sorry, sir..." I said a bit sheepishly.
"I know you are, son. Just make sure you learn your lesson this time. This makes twice I've had to paddle you for the same thing. I don't want to find you in this position again for a long time, you understand?"
"Yes, sir. I'll try to behave," I said, sorrowfully.
"No," Pa said with a small flash of anger in his voice, "You won't TRY to behave, boy, you WILL behave."
"Yes, sir," I said, knowing that now was no longer the time for words, but for actions. And after a few more seconds of waiting, the paddle came down on my ass with fierce intensity.
CRACK!!!! CRACK!!!!! CRACK!!!!! CRACK!!!!! CRACK!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
I was squirming and bucking already. Pa was swatting me harder than he had in a long time. Can't say as I didn't deserve it, though...
CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
"Please, sir!" I cried out knowing it wouldn't help. "I've learned my lesson!"
"You've learned your lesson when I say you've learned your lesson!" Pa said in a deep voice. His muscled arm bore down on me again and again.
CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
Pa stopped, breathing slightly harder than normal. He rested the paddle on my ass again, which was now hot, sore, and very sorry.
"You know, son, the last time my father took to givin' me a lickin', I was about 25," Pa said thoughtfully.
Breathing hard and fast, I blinked to keep the stinging in my eyes at bay. I wondered where this was going.
"I remember bein' over his knee like this, thinkin' I was too big to get whipped, too. And you know what? I wasn't. And neither are you. So from now on, I want you to keep that _c_o_c_k_y attitude in check, because if I have to give you a THIRD paddling for backtalkin' me, it's gonna be _d_a_m_n_ed embarassin' for you to take a shower at the gym." Pa pressed the paddle into my already sore ass, driving home the point.
"Aaah, yes sir!" I said as Pa applied pressure to an increasingly sensitive area.
"You may be fresh out of high school, but that doesn't mean I can't still take a paddle to your bare ass," Pa said as he reached beneath the waistband of my briefs and yanked them down, tossing them in the pile with the rest of my clothes.
CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
"Please, Pa!!" I cried out, the stinging in my eyes worsening. I knew what was coming...
CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
"_d_a_m_n_IT, PA!" I cried out unconsciously as tears started rolling down my eyes. Suddenly, the paddling stopped.
"What did you say!?" Pa said, now incredibly angry. He never allowed swearing in his house.
"I..." my mind reeled, knowing that my smart mouth had just earned me a hell of a lot more licks than I would've gotten otherwise. This wasn't the first time I'd be getting licks for bad language.
"I want you to say that again," Pa said, giving me a sharp crack on the ass with the paddle.
CRACK!!!!!!
"AAH!" I said as a few more tears rolled down my eyes. "I said, _d_a_m_n_it, sir."
"Stand up," Pa said.
Standing as quickly as I could, I soon found myself face to face with a paddle-wielding man who was hotter under the collar than my freshly paddled ass.
"Get to the corner and stand there. I'll be back to finish your spankin' when I've cooled down," he said, watching as I walked with shame over to the corner of the basement and stood with my hands on my head.
I listened as he tromped up the stairs and closed the basement door with a slam. Pa never spanked me when he was that furious. He knew it was dangerous for me, not to mention pointless. Spankings came from concern, not anger, he always said.
A good half hour went by as I stood there, feeling worse and worse for my behavior, until I heard the basement door open again, and Pa come calmly down the stairs. He walked up behind me, getting very close before speaking.
"Son, I'm sorry for gettin' so angry, but seein' you break rule after rule that you've known since you were a little boy just got me mad," he said, his muscled chest pressing into my back. Slowly he put his arms around me and hugged me.
"I'm sorry, too, Pa," I said, feeling awful for making him lose his temper.
"I know, son, but you know that I'm gonna have to punish you more severely now, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," I said, hanging my head.
"Alright, then, get over to the chair and bend over. You're gettin' strapped from here on out today."
I swallowed hard. Pa was good with the paddle, but he was even better with the strap. It's a skill he inherited from his own father, who was more fond of that old device than any other.
"Yes, sir," I said, walking over to the chair, bending over the back of it, and grabbing onto both sides.
"You're gonna get another 20 with the strap, you understand, son?" Pa asked gently.
"Yes, sir. I understand, and...I know I deserve it, sir." I said, fully meaning what I said.
"Thank you, son," Pa said, taking the strap in hand and getting into position. "You know the rules, boy, no squirmin', no standin', no movin' for nothin'. You earned this, now you're just gonna have to take it."
"Yes, sir," I said, preparing myself for one long hard strapping.
CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
I could barely catch my breath the strapping was so intense. Pa had never licked me this hard before in my life. Too shocked to cry, I just closed my eyes and tried to focus on not moving, which was more easily said than done.
CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!
Shaking slightly, my punishment was over. My ass was in more pain than I could've possibly imagined, but luckily, it was over. I stayed there, bent over for another few minutes before Pa allowed me to stand.
"Alright, boy, up," he said, sharply smacking my ass with his hand.
"Ow!" I said as he slapped me, smiling slightly. Pa always gave me one or two smacks with his hand after it was all over. It was his way of complimenting me for taking the licking well -- like football players do during a game.
"You learned your lesson, son?" he asked in a serious tone.
"Yes, sir," I said, looking him in the eye.
"Good, I don't want to be spankin' you again for a long time, you understand?" he asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Yes, sir," I said again, looking him in the eye.
"Good. Alright, you know the drill. Put your briefs on, but no clothes for the rest of the evenin', ok?"
"Yes, sir," I said, grabbing my briefs and sliding them over my incredibly sore and reddened ass. I groaned as the fabric rubbed against the strap's slight welts.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah...you did a good job today, Pa," I said with a grin.
With a smile, he pulled me into a firm hug, slapping my ass again as he did so.
"I'm proud of you, son," he said, releasing me.
"Thanks, Pa," I said. We were silent for a few minutes, and I stared at the floor for a while.
"Hey...Pa?" I asked. "You really got whipped by grandpa until you were 25?"
"Yup," Pa said, looking down at the floor with slight embarrassment. "Earned every lick that man gave me, too."
"What'd you do to earn that last lickin'?" I asked, a little uncertain.
Pa looked up with a smile.
"How about we call up your grandpa and have him over for dinner tonight? He can tell you the story himself -- he's better at telling stories than I am anyway. Besides, he'd get a kick out of tellin' you how much trouble your old man used to get into. "
"That'd be fun, Pa," I said, smiling back.
"And you can tell him your story in return. I'm sure he'll be wonderin' why you're only in your briefs tonight," Pa said, turning me around and laughing. "Bright red, even through your briefs. Well, maybe he won't be wonderin' after all!"
Together, Pa and I went upstairs and called grandpa. And after dinner, the three of us spent the rest of the night trading stories of the good old fashioned art of spanking.