Better Than Jail

Author :

“So, what punishment do you chose?” asked my father pointedly.

            I was caught.

            Obviously, he had talked with the neighbors and knew that I had stolen the wood.

            We didn’t have the wood needed to finish a set of shelves I wanted to build. So I had gone to the neighbor’s garage in the early morning, and stuffed a couple of 1x12s under my arm so as to finish the job. The neighbor lady saw and yelled at me. I ran off, yelling back that I’d pay them. And I had denied it all to my dad. He got red in the face, and I knew then that I was in for it.

I was guilty of lying and stealing. I deserved a spanking.

            I desperately wanted to avoid a spanking.

            I was in the tenth grade, too old to be spanked, or so I wanted to think.

            “So ground me for a week.”

            He boldly laughed at my sentence.

            “Do you really think that this deserves that light a punishment?”

            The chimes from the living room echoed into my bedroom.

            I didn’t answer.

            “OK. This is what I’ll do to you. You are grounded for whole year. On top of that, you are to receive a spanking everyday for each inch of wood you stole (that was a total of 72 inches). Suggestions?”
            “SHIT!” I quietly cussed.

            “Oh, cussing only makes this worse!” declared my father.

            “SUGGESTIONS!”

            “But dad!” I protested. “I was trying to build a set of shelves to help get the books off the floor.”
            “That’s a fine motive,” declared my dad, “But you have violated several laws doing it. Why didn’t you consider earning the money and then buying the wood?”

            He was right. I was in the wrong.

            “OK. OK.” I submitted. “I deserve to be spanked for stealing.”
            “And what do you deserve to the paltry web of lies you made?”
            I hated this. It was really coercion.

            “I should be spanked for that also.”
            “So, you will submit to a spanking for lying and a separate spanking for stealing?”

            SHIT! I cussed to myself.
            “Sir, yes, sir.”

            “Good!” declared my father.

            “But what about the future? What if I find that you are continuing to steal and/or to lie?”
            I hated the inquisition!

            I hung my head and declared the sentence.

            “I should receive double the punishment I received before.”

This had been a standard rule in the family for as long as I could remember.

            I had received several spankings that lasted longer than before, and my dad even brought in witnesses as a means of doubling the punishment.

            “Agreed!” declared my dad. “Now, if I’m right, the last time you earned a spanking was for lying. Am I right?”

            It had been two years. I had been spanked twice that month. The first time was over my dad’s knee for lying and disobedience. The second time was over my mother’s knee and then my dad’s knee for disobedience and a big mouth. It had been humiliating, and it hurt so bad after the second time that I swore to never get my parents so upset that they would paddle me again. I guess time had buried the painful memory.

            “Sir, yes, sir.” I hung my head in fear.

            “Did you agree to receive double the punishment if you did it again?”

            “Yes, sir.” I mumbled quietly.

            “Good. I remember that you received that particular punishment over my knee through your shorts. Now, you are to take off all of your clothes and put on a supporter. Understand?”

            “Geez! Dad! Why not just spank me for twice as long?”
            The idea of getting the paddle on my bare butt was scary.

            “No. Now do as you are told. I’ll make the punishment five times worse if you make me undress you.”
            I knew that he meant it, so I reluctantly began to undress. As I slid my briefs off, I felt very vulnerable. I slipped the jockstrap on, which made me feel a little more at ease, but the air was cool on my bare butt. I started to get hard from the anticipation.

            “Get the paddle out of the closet!” ordered my dad.

            I felt like Jell-O as I reached into the closet and removed the wooden paddle off the hook. It was light, made of ash wood, about a half inch thick, 24 inches in length, about 3 inches wide. I knew that my butt was going to hurt.

            I slowly brought it out of the closet.

            “Quit stalling!” ordered my dad.

            I brought it over to him. I could not look him in the face.

            He pulled the chair away from my desk, turned it around, and sat down.

            “Come over here!” he ordered, pointing to the right side of the chair, beside him.

            I reluctantly did.

            He quickly grabbed my left arm, wrapping his right arm around my torso and pulled forward. I lost my balance, and he easy flipped me over his knee.

            “Shit” I quietly cussed.

            “Cussing only makes the punishment longer” he declared.

            He pulled up on my pelvis, adjusting my weight. I decided to relax and bent over the edge of his knee.

            “That’s right son. Give in to the inevitable.”

            His hand exploded on my bare ass.

            WHACK!

            “Ow!” I cried in pain and surprise.

I had expected him to begin with the paddle, but now I was shocked to realize that he meant to use it later. I began to panic and plead.

He laid several swift swats on my rear.

“Come one dad. Please. I said I was sorry!”
            He spanked faster and harder.

“Ouch! Shit! Shit! SHIT!”

He paused.

“Stop swearing, son. You’re only making this worse.”

And he resumed the hand spanking.

I grit my teeth together, cussing silently, and trying to find some way to manage the pain. Soon I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Please, dad. Please!”

He didn’t respond except to spank harder.

I cried out in pain several times.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer and reached back with my right hand to block the blows. My dad grabbed my hand with his left hand, locking it behind my back.

He didn’t miss a beat in the rhythm. He did increase the pain.

Soon I was crying freely.

He paused.

“Now that you are tender, do you understand that you are going to be punished for lying, stealing, and also for all the cussing you’ve done?”

SHIT. I cussed to myself

“C’mon dad. I said I was sorry. Can’t we agree that what I’ve received already is part of the punishment?”
            “I can see this is going to be a long session,” he stated quietly, and resumed the hand spanking.

He was thorough, smacking my ass everywhere: top, bottom, sides, even along the crack. He concentrated a lot of the whacks in the center and lower part of my butt.  The result was that it felt like fire.

“Ow.” I wailed. “Ok, ok. I understand. I understand.”

He didn’t reply but to increase the strokes.

I cried aloud, twisting and bucking, but it was without hope. He had me pinned with my arm behind my back.

He paused.

“Now, do you understand that you are to be punished for lying, stealing, and cussing?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” I hollered in earnest.

“Do you understand that the terms of your punishment are beyond your control, and are meant to correct your behavior?”
            “Sir, yes, sir,” I whimpered.

“Good. We’ll begin with your habit of cussing. Do you see that tennis shoe to your right”

“Sir, yes, sir.”
            “Hand it to me.”

I reached out and handed to him one of my Converse All-Stars. I hated it; he really was going to spank me like never before.

He laid it against my ass, rotated it in a circular fashion twice around my ass, and then said, “This is for your bad habit of cussing, disobedience, and insolence,” and proceeded to spank me.

It hurt! The pain was immense and exploded inside of me.

I know that I bucked and yelled, but he held on, keeping me pinned and on his lap.

 He used the same technique as with his hand: spanking everywhere, methodically. He keep the swats about two to three seconds apart, just long enough to elicit a response and to realize the pain.

The pain became impossible. I cried out for him to stop and that I was sorry. I promised that I’d stop cussing. I bucked and tried to get away.

Nothing helped. He held on, and punished me without flinching.

Soon, the pain became more manageable, even though my butt was aflame.

I looked at the clock. My spanking had been going on for seventeen minutes. It had felt like an eternity.

I gave up hope, hung my head, and cried freely.

Soon, he stopped.

“You promised to stop cussing. Do you mean that?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” I blubbered in tears.

“You’ve lied before. Are you lying now?”
            “Sir, no, sir.” I promised, sobbing.

“So you promise to submit to a spanking double the pain and humiliation that you’ve just received if you cuss again?”
            I hated this part, but it was effective.

“Sir, yes, sir,” I promised quietly.

“Good. I’ll hold you to that.

“Do you understand that resisting and arguing only makes the punishment worse?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, put this shoe back where you found it.”

I put in on the floor by the other.

“Hand me the paddle,” he ordered.

“Oh no!” I cried in earnest. “No, no. Please! No!”

I handed the paddle back to him even though I was begging with him not to spank me with it. It was hopeless and I knew it.

He laid the paddle against my butt, and asked, “Did you steal wood from the Herst’s next door?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”
            I grit my teeth in anticipation.

I wasn’t ready for the pain.

I heard the paddle descend, and the pain was immense.

“Ahh! Oh please. No!”

He applied another blow, and another, methodically, without flinching.

“Oh, please stop.

“Ouch! Please!

I managed to get my left hand behind me. He stopped spanking me, and simply grabbed it along with my other wrist. He then continued to spank me hard!

“Oh, I can’t take it!

“Please!

“Oh, please no!

“Ok. Ok!

“Please don’t!

“I’m sorry, dad! Please!

“I’m sorry!

“It hurts!

“Please stop!

“Oh, I’m sorry!

“I promise not to steal!

“Please stop!

I gasped for breath, and sobbed, crying aloud.

The pain was excruciating!

I was in a panic, gasping for breath. I was ready to do anything to stop the pain. It hurt so much, I was ready to fight or flee, but was pinned on my dad’s lap, with my hands behind my back.

He was relentless, methodically covering my ass in blows.

I cried and begged for him to stop.

I promised never to steal again.

I promised to submit to double the punishment.

It hurt so bad I’d would have promised anything to get him to stop.

            I bucked and twisted at first, but he held had more strength than I realized.

            I begged and pleaded and then hung my head, crying, and pleading for the punishment to end.

            The pain was huge and relentless. It hurt so much! I was beyond reasoning with him. I wanted to do anything to make the pain stop.

            He methodically paddled me, concentrating on the center and lower part of my butt.

            Without warning, he increased the speed of the swats, and the strength.

            “Ahh! Oh God, no please!

            “Ow!

            “Please, no!

            “C’mon dad!

“Please stop!

            “Ah! I’m sorry!

            “Owww! Please!

            “ I promise…

            SWAT!

            “I promise…

            SWAT!

            “Please!

            He kept up the intensity.

            “I can’t take it!

            “Please stop!

            He stopped abruptly, placing the paddle against the chair.

            “This isn’t over yet. Get up!”

            I was slow to respond, sobbing.

            He grabbed me around my waist, standing up, pulling me up with him.

            Reaching behind him, he grabbed the chair and brought it around in front of me. He arranged it so the back was closest to me.

            “Bend over the back of the chair!” he ordered.

            “No, please!”

            He forced me over the back of the chair.

            “Grab hold of the lower hung!”

            “NOW!”

            I reluctantly obeyed, begging.

            “Please, no. Don’t! No more! Please! I promise to never steal or lie or anything!

            “Spread your legs apart till your on tip toes!” he ordered.

            I obeyed, trying to avoid trouble.

            He laid the paddle against my butt and asked, “Did you lie about stealing?”

            “Oh no! Please, no!

            He swung a huge swat onto my blazing bottom.

            “Ahhhh! No more! No more! Please!”

            He stuck my raised, exposed, burning rear again.

            “Ouch! No. No more! Please!”

            “Did you lie about stealing?” he barked, spanking me a third time.

            “Ahh! Sir, yes, sir!” I bellowed.

            He commenced to paddle me with impunity.

            “Oh, God!

            “Oh, God!

            “No!

            “Please!

            “Ow!

            “Shit!

            “Oh, God!

            “Please!

            “Ahh!

            I was gasping for breath again.

            The pain was unmanageable.

            I thought I was going to die.

            I couldn’t take it.

            “I’m sorry!

            “Please, I can’t take it!
            “Oh God, it hurts!

            He swung with a purpose.

            My ass was on fire.

            The pain was huge.

            I was certain I was bruised.

            I couldn’t catch my breath.

            “People get thrown in jail for stealing and lying. You’re just getting your butt spanked. Imagine days, months, years of doing nothing, and having to deal with convicts all around you. Some of them will even be sexually interested in you. They will fuck you in the ass! That’s the penalty given to liars and thieves.”

            He declared the sentence while delivering the punishment. He spoke loud enough to be heard above my laments.

            He then began to increase the speed of the blows.

            I howled and cried.

            I begged.

            “STOP!

            “Please!

            “I can’t take it!

            I hung my head and bawled.

            He paddled everywhere on my butt.

            He spanked everywhere until I stopped screaming, and then moved to a new location.

            With every new location was a new sensation of pain.

I arched my back and howled from the throbbing.

My voice was hoarse from hollering.

            What he had said about convicted thieves got to me.

            I gave into the punishment.

            I deserved every swat, every stroke, and all the pain.

            I wanted it to correct me.

            He slowed down the speed and tripled the strength of the paddling. Each swat was so intense it pushed the chair up and forward. I rocked back on each stroke, bawling, but not begging any more.

            He slowly peppered every exposed area outlined by the jockstrap.

            He stopped.

            I hung my head and cried.

            It took several minutes for me to catch my breath.

            I noticed that he was breathing deeply also.

            “Stand up!”

            I obeyed.

            “Have you learned you lesson?”
            “Sir, yes, sir. Please, no more! I promise to be truthful, and to not steal, and to not cuss!”

            “Double the time and humiliation if you do it again?”

            I closed my eyes and answered, “Sir, yes, sir.”

            “Good. You’re grounded to your room for the rest of the night. Hang the paddle in the closet.”

            I obeyed.

            He left.

            My ass was numb from the paddling.

            At least I thought so until I sat down on the bed.