3 D.A.D.s / 3 BOYS - Part 3

Author: Writer8322@aol.com

A STORY SET IN THE 'BRAVE NEW WORLD' OF D.A.D.

Chapter Three:  D.A.D. (James) and boy (Peter)

James Lester, and his son Peter, reappeared in the den of James' home.   James did not put Peter down and didn't seem to be working hard at holding the boy by the seat of his pants either.

>From his awkward, dangling position, Peter saw a lot of leather upholstery, a fireplace and four wooden cigar boxes over the mantle.

Peter poked his glasses up his nose and James swung him to his feet.  He did not, however, release the seat of Peter's pants.  The consequence of this was that the back of Peter's jeans was forced halfway down his butt and he had one helluva wedgie.

Still gripping his son, James pulled Peter over to a leather armchair and sank into it - still holding the back of his boy's trousers.

Peter nervously tried to pull his pants up in the back but James only responded by giving an angry tug downwards and the pants slipped even lower.  Peter stopped trying to pull them up.

"You can let go of me, sir, honest.   I won't run away again!"

"You're pretty sincere, aren't you, son?" James Lester said one-handing a wooden match from his vest pocket.   He puffed his cigar butt into  life.

"Yes.  I'm sincere," Peter said.

James Lester nodded.   "I bet you think you are too!" he mumbled, more to himself than the boy.  "How old are you, son?"

"Eighteen," Peter said.

James studied the boy.  Despite his pre-adolescent appearance, James knew that the boy was telling the truth.

"Eighteen?!"   James puffed his cigar.  "And you think it's cool to break the law, huh?"

"I don't think it's cool," Peter said nervously.  "I just.....that place we were in wasn't very nice.....and....."

"You are full of alibis, aren't you, son?" James Lester said,  he opened his fist and grabbed more of Peter's pant's seat  the button at the front of Peter's jeans popped off.   The jeans slipped lower and the fly began to unzip.

"Tell me, kid," James said pushing Peter up close between his parted knees.  "Have you ever been over a man's lap?"

Peter flushed hotly.  "What!"

"Have you ever had a man put you over his knee and paddle your butt!"

Peter's eyes widened with genuine horror.  He looked about the room and thought of escape.

James Lester puffed and smiled through his beard.  "No!  I bet you haven't."  He shook his head.  "Well, son, you're about to experience something that you should have had done to you a long time ago."

James pulled down the seat of Peter's jeans and the boy's fly zipped down and the pants dragged over the boy's backside and fell to his ankles.  Peter tried to stoop to pull them up, but he didn't have time.

James Lester no sooner let go of the lowered pants, when he readjusted his grip to Peter's backside.  Peter gasped as he felt the 'Biker's' enormous hand take hold of his whole butt and use that grip to overturn the boy and land him, face down, over his knees.

"Aah!" Peter cried out.  He put his hands on James Lester's left leg and tried to push himself up off the man's lap, but James' left arm landed on the back of Peter's head and pushed him back down!

"You ain't going nowhere, little Peter," James said.  "Daddy is putting you to bed the old fashioned way. "  James used his right hand to pull the boy close to his body.

"First daddy tucks you in nice and snug," the man said.

James put his hand into Peter's briefs and got a good handful of boy underwear.

"Then daddy undresses his little boy."

"No!  Please!" Peter cried out.
James pulled down Peter's underpants and the boy's tight, round little bottom bounced into view.  James lowered the boy's briefs to his knees and then rested his hand across his son's bared bottom.

"Now daddy is going to tell you a little bedtime story son.  It's a story with lots of action and the longer the story goes on, the more it heats up.  Do you catch my drift?"

"No, please, let me up, sir.  I can't bear this," Peter said.   He was truly in distress.  He was a boy who had scuttled his way through life, much like a coackroach.  Now to find himself pinned down and exposed and without routes of escape was agony for him.

"You got no choice but to bear it," his father said.   "I bare it....and you bear it!"  James laughed a little, then he got serious.

"You have been out of control, and that's why D.A.D. sent me out.  I hope that we can forge us a real daddy/son relationship, but you better understand that you've got a daddy who believes that a boy learns best in the old southwest.   Now, you can just forget about your modesty and your clever little schemes, son, because your old dad has them all under his control.

I'm going to give you a tanning you will never forget.  And that is a promise!"

"NO!" Peter cried out, struggling mightily, but futily, on his father's lap.

James lifted his hand and walloped Peter's bare bottom.

The boy screamed.

"Oh, come on son!" James said, raising his hand and watching the red hand print rise up on his son's backside.  "You start screaming like that when you aren't even warmed up, you'll have no voice by the time I take up the hairbrush!"

"Hairbrush?!" Peter cried out.

"All boys are spanked with their dad's hairbrush!" James said, as though it were an immutable fact.   "When I take down your pants....."

He paused to deliver another wallop to Peter's posterior.

Again, the boy scream.


".............you can be prepared for the hairbrush.  And you know, son, you aren't going to like it one little bit."

And then James Lester didn't talk again for ten minutes.   During that time, he was busy raising and lowering the palm of his hand.

Peter kicked his feet and howled.  After the first two minutes, his howls turned into bawling sounds as he began to cry.  Then he began pleaded and promising, but James Lester didn't respond.   He spanked and spanked and spanked.

Then, he stopped and his hand went to the hairbrush fastened to his belt.

Peter was nearly hyperventilating by this time.  

James undid the hairbrush, but feeling the boy's level of distress, he stood him up.  Tears and snot ran down the boy's face.  James pulled a blue handkerchief from his back pocket and scrubbed the boy's face non too gently.

"You need a little cornertime, boy!" James said sternly.

He marched Peter to a corner of the room and pushed him into it.   "You turn around and I'll beat your backside into a tar pool!"

Then, while Peter wailed into his corner.  James deposited his burned out cigar butt in an ash tray, took a big fresh cigar from one of the wooden boxes and drew up a chair directly behind Peter.

James bit the end off the cigar and threw the piece into the fireplace.  He struck another match and got the stogie charged up.

Clouds of smoke filled the air and James relaxed  back in his seat, stretched his long legs in front of him (crossed at the ankles) and enjoyed a good smoke while his son howled and rubbed his red bottom.

After about fifteen minutes, the boy stopped crying and was fidgiting.

"Time for the hairbrush, son!" James Lester said.

"No, daddy, please!" Peter said in alarm.

James smiled inwardly.   "The first 'daddy'," he said to himself.

He took Peter by the hand and lead him, gently, back to the little couch.

"I don't like to give you a spanking boy, but you need this real bad, and a father can't shirk his responsibilities."

He put Peter back into his lap, locked him in place and spanked him with the hairbrush.

Peter started out by screaming again.   The intensity of pain was more than he had anticipated  it was nothing like his father's hand had been.

After two minutes of the brush, however, Peter seemed to just collapse on his father's knees and sob and kick involuntarily.

During the hairbrush part of the discipline, James lectured continuously.

"You will do what I tell you to do, won't you boy?"

"YES!  YES, DADDY!'  Peter swore loudly.

The hairbrush left white blotches that turned deep crimson and then purple.

"And what will daddy do to his little boy if he doesn't mind him?"

"OOW!!  No more, daddy!  ....He....he'll spank him!   Ooow!!!"

Then the spanking was over and Peter was held across James Lester's lap to cry out his pain.

After a few second, James lifted the boy up, stood up himself, and took the boy into his arms.  Peter basically collapsed there and found the hugging an incredible relief and release after the intensity of the spanking.   He didn't even realize it when he put his arms around James' waist, buried his face in the man's hairy bare chest and wept unashamedly.  It was more than the pain of the spanking that he was crying over.  But he didn't know that....yet.

(to be continued)