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.