The Background© Y Lee Coyote
My Dad is an AUTOCRAT! He knows everything and is always right. I know that absolutely true because I’ve been hearing him saying it since I was violently ejected from my mother’s womb some fourteen years ago.
Some people might take issue with his scope of knowledge and correctness but I’m not allowed any such heretical false idea. Even the slightest hint of heresy means that my butt turns a painful shade of red and not with paint nor lights for Dad is a strict autocrat whose knows that spanking is the cure all.
Initially, it was over Dad’s lap sans pants and undies and his hard hand that turned me into a bawling baby. When I became a teenager I was upgraded to bending over for his belt and now his implement of choice is a genuine Lochgelly tawse which he ordered from Scotland. Dad insists that the butt is the only safe target and the tawse is the perfect implement. Hands can be readily injured and paddles fracture. My research on the web indicates that he is correct about this. It still hurts but without harm except for the pain.
A recent example. Dad and I went to a ball game with one of his friends and son whom I’m friendly with. Dad said something and I, unthinkingly, corrected a misstated fact when we were eating. Dad snarled at me but when we got home my ass turned red even though he was wrong and I was right.
The Dilemma
My dilemma is easy to state. Dad worked hard on building this porch swing and is justly proud of his achievement. The problem is that the seat supports are not well connected so it is unsafe. To tell him that is to say he made a mistake and thus he is imperfect which is rank insolence to him.
The disaster I see is my obscenely obese grandparents – the pair together weighting more than quarter ton – swinging and my kid brother jumping on them which causes the seat to detach and they all fall. My brother could get crushed by the two tubs of lard. Perhaps not the disaster of the Hyatt Regency walkway collapse of 1981 but it has basically identical flaws.
I ponder this for days and talk to my friends but none of us see any good way. Dad has no patience with roundabout talking so I take the risk and just tell him.
My prediction was terrible right for just two minutes later I’m half naked bent over my bed as Dad lashes my bare tail with his heavy tawse a half dozen times. I bite hard on a sock to keep quiet since Dad insists I take it as a man would.
Aftermath
It was only an hour later that my best friend, Reed, showed up. He was dead set on going to the rec center for some swimming as we had planned. “But my ass is red.” I protested.
“So what. Everyone gets whacked sometimes. It’s nothing to care about and the cool water will relieve the pain. Let’s go, NOW!”
He was right. There were some comments but nothing bad and the cool water definitely helped. But best of all was meeting Dr. Hardgrove from school although I wouldn’t learn that for hours. He was the teacher in my high school that taught the physical science AP courses as he was an engineer.
Dr. Hardgrove saw my red tail and questioned me fearing a case of abuse and that lead to my describing the swing. He looked at a couple of images in my phone and said they were inconclusive because of lack of detail but I might be right. He would have to examine the swing to be sure. He drove us home and did his inspection.
Dr. Hardgrove agreed that the swing was unsafe although he said some of my details were incorrect.
Confrontation
I introduced Dr. Hardgrove to my Dad explaining who he was and emphasizing his qualifications in this area. Of course, Dad was lacking any those but I did not mention that to protect my butt.
Dad did not take the analysis well especially when it included that I had been unfairly tawsed. He got physical as well verbally loud. Dr. Hardgrove was a large, strong man in good shape and effectively manhandled Dad so that he was helpless to prevent violence.
He ordered Dad to stop his fighting both physically and verbally but in vain. “Stronger measures are in order. Please fetch the tawse for me as I think it will bring calm.” I was overwhelmed by the situation but Reed was not. He dashed off to my bedroom and got it.
Because of his physical advantages Dr. Hardgrove managed to open Dad’s belt and pants which wigged down a bit. He then sat on the couch and forced Dad over his lap and leg locked him. Now in a vee position with his top forced down Dad’s struggles to get free were in vain. A quick yank of his undies and his butt was as bare as mine was in the morning.
“The tawse, please.” he said holding out his hand. Reed gave it to him.
Then he started to swing the tawse. The first cut caused Dad to stop his vulgar rant and howl. I was amazed by how Dad’s butt turned redder with each cut and I assume that was how mine changed. After a dozen Dr. Hardgrove stopped. He then talked about the swing. First the good stuff and then he repeated the details about the safety issues and how to correct them.
I was getting a whole new perspective of the tawse in use. Certainly a much less painful and a lot more pleasant view. Dad was also getting a new view but in the opposite way.
“OK. OK. I’ll fix it. Just let me up.” Dad said. “We’re not finished yet. You are still due a dozen for the unjustified spanking you gave your son. Now will you take it like a man just bent over the couch or do we continue with you like a boy over my lap?”
I’m happy to say that Dad opted to take it like a man. Dr. Hardgrove let him up and he bent over the end of the couch. It was a joy to watch him get it in retribution and see his rump turn even a deeper red.
When it was over, Dr. Hardgrove reminded him to make the changes promptly and took his leave before Dad could start another argument.
Reed suggested that I join him for sleepover while Dad recovers. Fortunately Mom and my kid bother had returned so we left after updating her about Dad needing extensive TLC. At least my butt would be safe for evening.