It was a week later that my younger brother Mike called. He skipped all the usual preliminaries and got right to the point. It would be an understatement to just say that he was very upset for his son (my nephew) Billy had made good on his declaration at our parents' house that naughty parents get spanked. And parents are naughty when they don't behave like mature adults should and like they tell (demand that) their children to do. He was mad to put it mildly at having a very sore butt which was, of course, completely my fault.
It was my fault because Oscar had tawsed me on the holiday visit and Billy had taken up the idea that kids could be in charge of adults – even their own parents. I let him rant for a while as I had gone through a similar process a year earlier with my own son who was very strict with me. Looking back I realized that Oscar has always been fair making sure that I deserved each and every paddling he gave me. As I already reported, last week at my parents' house he munificently had given Lydia and I a private, extra warning which we, to our dismay and great embarrassment, failed to heed. As Mike ranted on, I thought about my own first time getting it from my son.
The first time my then tween son roasted my tail was very difficult for me. I had cheated and when I boasted about it to Lydia, he had overheard. Oscar was shocked and appalled to learn that his father who he idolized ever so much not only did not have his halo on straight but it was being trampled in the mud underfoot. The idea of that gnawed at him for day and then he had 'the talk' with me. It was the same sort of talk his granddad had given me when I was his age. I did not have any answers, now anymore than then, and was totally ashamed. I even begged his forgiveness and promised not to repeat the offence. That, after all, is all one can do when caught red-handed. Oscar was glad to hear that but did not think it was enough. I had spanked him – long and hard (according to him) for much lesser offences. He said that it was only fair that I suffer the same way. I objected and he pointed out had I had made him accept various punishment as 'owning up' was part of growing up into a man. "How can I respect you now?" he said extremely disappointed in his old man.
«Yes, how indeed» I thought. He was just getting to the age where he was questing the entire world and on the verge of transforming from a boy into youth on his way to manhood. I could only sit there with my head in my hands hiding my face.
"Are you man enough to do what is right, father?" he said and walked out of the room with his head drooping as if he had done something wrong. Oscar had not even become a teen yet and he had forced me into an impossible situation. I could leave things as they were and he would never respect me again. I had terrible thoughts how he would run wild – out of control. It took me a while before I could swallow my pride and go see him – hat in hand – to get my just desserts. Of course, I did not know what they were at the time. I guess that I should have realized what they would be but I was not thinking right.© YLeeCoyote
When I got to my son's room, he looked up from his computer and grunted in that tween/teen disgusted tone: "More pitiful and lame excuses, Dad?"
"NO! You're right." He had turned to me and I was sure he was about to use that universal teen sneer «Whatever!» to dismiss me when he froze for a few seconds.
"Give me your belt and strip." he barked. I obeyed immediately before I could think and chicken out. Then I knelt, as directed, by his bed and with my torso on it and with my butt presented. He started strapping me hard. It was as bad as when Dad strapped me when I was a teen. I clenched my teeth and gripped the bedspread like my life depended on it. I quickly lost count of the barrage of hard cuts as the pain intensified. Soon I was yelling but Oscar kept at it. The universe was reduced to the novae in my tail burning the evil out. Between the yells I was crying like a baby. I was no longer a man but a very well-spanked naughty boy. As the universe was restored a strong connection was forged between my terrible behavior and the extreme pain in my ass.
When I recovered my senses, Oscar was holding me in his arms like I had held him after I spanked him. I was a naked, crying, extremely well-spanked little boy and even repentant. Although I did not know it yet, I was forever changed. Oscar was speaking softly and reassuringly. Somehow I had moved so that we were sitting on the bed. Actually, Oscar was sitting on the bed and I was sitting on one of his thighs with my scorched butt hanging out. He held me a very long time, far longer than Dad ever did, but it was necessary not only because of the pain in my butt but to allow my head to wrap around a new and foreign concept – that my tween son could turn me into blubbering boy.
After a while I tried to apologize and made promises to be good. I easily agreed that naughty boys get soundly spanked so that they learn to behave properly. (Actually, this was the third time I had this discussion: first with my father when I was a boy, then a few years ago with Oscar and now again with Oscar but with me as the boy again.) Then Oscar pushed me over his other thigh and held me down. Then he stated to spank me with his hand. I was howling right away. Later my rational self would say, of course, it hurt because of the hard strapping I just got but internally I learnt that Oscar could effectively spank me with just his hand. I know that happened because months later when Oscar mentioned spanking me, I had a visceral reaction while anticipating great pain.
My head was spinning and Oscar made me promise that I would obey him because he was now in charge since I had proven to be irresponsible. Oscar said an important covenant such as this one required a tangible sign so that I would never forget, Oscar led me to my bathroom, and while I stood in the tub, used my mustache trimmer to clip my pubes short and then my electric razor to remove the stubble.
Lydia did not know what to make of me – her smooth crotch, apple butt husband – after having been severely disciplined by our young son. When I explained that I had to submit or lose Oscar forever she was skeptical and unbelieving that I had surrendered control to him.
Eventually, Mike ran out of words and sputtered like a car running out of gas. I had realized that there was not any point in interrupting his long winded rant so I let him do it. Then I started asking questions. I got the grist by asking a score of yes/no questions and with that frame work could understand what had happened. It was just a couple of days before that he had gotten three overdue / imminent turnoff notices and Billy saw them when he fetched the mail. Billy then questioned things and Mike insisted that there must be a mistake because he distinctly remembered writing the checks. Billy had simply demanded: "Show me."
Well, I'll let you hear it all in Mike's own words when he explained it all from the beginning in a calm way.
The spanking while visiting with the folks was very traumatic and the only thing that made it at all tolerable was that Mom and Dad were there and sort of using our kids as their proxies for spanking us like they did when we were teens. It was awkward driving home with a sore butt but Evie had the same problem so she was quiet. The kids never had behaved so well on a drive before. I guess that they were thinking about tawsing us – their parents.
It was the mail that brought on the trouble. In just a couple of day we had gotten three past due / turn off notices. I did not understand and Billy was shocked. "Are we paupers who don't pay our bills?" he demanded.
"It must be some mistake. I remember writing those checks, son." I told him and he insisted on seeing the check book having a lot more faith in computers than I. I quickly convinced him that I had written the checks for they were right there in the check book in the envelopes waiting to be mailed. Billy made me drive to the post office and get them on their way. When I returned Billy called me to task. Billy – I guess he's Bill now – had learnt a lot from Oscar and he pressed me hard. I had really messed up and there was not getting away from that fact. Without being insolent at all, Bill insisted that I needed to be punished like you and Lydia had been. I disagreed but he retorted: "It's a matter of taking responsibility for your actions, Father." I was sort of shuddering when Bill left me alone.
It was terrible. I had messed up and my son – still just a boy – indicated that he wanted to punish me. There was not any doubt that he meant to spank me. If I had even hinted like that at his age, Dad would have roasted my tail so that I wouldn't have been able to sit for a month. But now, thanks to you brother, such things were possible. Obviously, Bill had pushed a lot of my buttons and I was in a quandary.
"Yes, I know. That was exactly what Oscar did to me." I interjected.
It took me awhile to get the courage to face the music with my son as the conductor. I when to his room and said: "Billy, I admit that I deserved to be punished." it took a while before things got under way. First, there was the minor point of his name. My son now demanded that he be addressed with the more adult Bill rather than the childish diminutive Billy. I protested but he was adamant and insisted that only his girlfriend (yes, one word) was allowed to call him that.
Once that was settled we moved on and Bill said: "Stand still as I undress you, Father." I said that I could do that myself but Bill countered that was the proper way as "my father taught me." That really hurt but it was true. I now regretted changing Dad's protocol and insisting that I undress Billy when I spanked him in the past. I guess that the hens were coming home to roost, I was blushing all over as that happened and then waiting for further orders. Bill had anticipated this moment and took out a real paddle. It was like the one we had encountered in school that VP Whackabutt loved ever so much and it brought back many painful memories. I was certain that Bill could not swing it as hard as old Whackabutt did but it was scary just the same.
I leaned on the desk as Bill directed me to. Yes, just like Whackabutt use to have us do in his office. Bill took his sweet time getting into position carefully checking that the paddle would hit my butt dead center. The first was a soft whack and I was lulled into a false feeling that this would be easy. In a few minutes I was hurting for real. Bill had stepped up the force and really went for the kill. Just like back in school, I had to yell and I was even crying. Bill stopped after a dozen and I thought it was over but he gave me an ultimatum
And in my weakened state, Bill gave me a terrible choice – "Father, shave your pubes off like Uncle George or get another dozen pops." I shaved rather than get another dozen pops from that paddle. It was like he knew how much I feared it. Bill gave me fifteen minutes to do the job and you can bet that I rushed to meet that deadline to avoid more pops.
I had to stand – jaybird naked with my robin red-breast tail hanging out in the corner for an hour. Both Evie and Beth Ann giggled when they saw me. I was not permitted to get dressed either for dinner or to hang about before bedtime. At dinner Bill sat at the head of the table and Beth Ann told me that naughty little boys like me (i.e., without pubes) don't have be ashamed of being naked. Of course, there were some references about how I looked ever so much like "little boy Uncle Mike".
It, was, in a word TERRIBLE!
Evie saved her comments until we went to bed. Then she lashed out at me for being a wimp and shaving rather than taking a few more pops. Just like when we were in high school, she did not understand how much they hurt. She complained that I had folded and give into Billy rather than stand up like a man. She really laced into me. "Now we are going to be in the same position as George and Lydia are under their kids' control unless I can stop it. You made it much harder because now I'm only one against them."
"Mike," I said, "You're better off to go with the flow and accept it than to fight it. Once the kids are in charge, they grow up fast and be a lot more responsible and stay out of trouble. I was surprised but that's what my kids did.