granddadandson

GRAND.D.A.D. , D.A.D. and son - Part 3

GRAND.D.A.D. , D.A.D. and son

A Story Set in the Brave New World of D.A.D.

Characters
Grand.D.A.D.: Tom Polley
D.A.D.: Mike Polley
son: Mike jr.

Chapter 3: Mike jr.'s D. and D.

Mike jr. hadn't been able to hear a sound from the guest room. His door had been shut and Tom had closed the other. The boy had been sitting on the bed getting more and more angry. He decided that he hated his Grandfather and that his Dad was a wimp for letting this happen.

Well, maybe his Dad was a wimp, but Mike jr. sure as hell wasn't. He would show his Grandfather, show him that he wasn't afraid or intimidated.

Mike jr. started to rise from the bed, and then fell back on it again. Why had he done that? He remembered his Grandfather's words, and those wallops on the seat of his pants he still felt them!    Thinking about the way he had been smacked made Mike even more angry. This time he did get up. He got up and opened the door of his room.

"Screw him!" Mike jr. thought and headed down the hall.

At that moment, the guest room opened the Tom appeared in the doorway. In a flash, Mike jr. took in two things. Behind his Grandfather, his father was lying face down on the bed naked, and his ass was......JESUS! It was beat! The second thing Mike jr. noted was the massive hairbrush in Tom's fist.

"I'm outta here!" Mike jr. thought and he sped for the stairs.

"OUCH!" A hand had snaked out and grabbed a handful of the boy's butt. The hand clutched Mike's backside like the jaws of some giant ape and then......the boy was lifted off of the ground and held dangling by the seat of his pants and the skin of his behind.

"YAAAAAAAAAH!" Mike jr. howled, but the hand did not let go.

Kicking and striking the air, the boy was carried, by his grandfather, back into his room. Tom used his foot to kick the door shut.

Once the door was closed, Tom put Mike jr. down.

"Did I tell you to stay seated?" Tom asked, his voice quiet but very, very stern.

Mike jr. held on to his bottom and rubbed it vigorously. It had really hurt to be grabbed that way, and the boy moved uncomfortably as he rubbed his backside.

"I don't have to listen to you," Mike jr. said, trying to sound as tough as possible, "you're not my father!"

"Famous childish words," Tom thought. He ignored them.

"Every man on this Island is expected to behave like your father that's part of what D.A.D. training has provided. Every child on this planet will soon be able to look at any Man and know that they can be taken care of by that adult." Tom paused. "And, I'm going to take care of you, son. But first I want to have a talk with you."

Tom walked over to Mike jr.'s bed and sat down.

"Come over here, boy," Tom said.

Mike jr. stood his ground.

"Come over here, son," Tom said again, and his voice was low but it seemed to rumble in the air.

Mike jr. grimaced but walked in front of his Granddad.

Tom put the hairbrush down on the bed at his side. Mike jr. couldn't help following the path that the brush took and kept eyeballing it even when it was out of his grandfather's fist.

Tom recaptured the boy's attention by taking hold of his hands. Mike jr. looked down. He felt an odd sensation in his throat as the man's big hands closed over his own. Mike had always thought he had pretty big hands for a kid, but his grandfather's were so large that his hands disappeared within their clasp.

Tom gently shook the boy's hands and Mike jr. felt uncomfortably 'owned' by the gesture......at least he thought it felt uncomfortable.   It also felt something else......secure??

"You're still a boy, Michael," Tom said, "but you're not a little boy. You should know about respect and responsibility. Do you know what those two words mean, son?"

"Of course," Michael said sulkily.

"I don't appreciate your style of answering my questions, boy," Tom said immediately. "From now on, when you answer me or your father, you will always, always, include 'Sir.' Is that clear?!"

Mike made a half-hearted attempt to pull his hands free, but his slight movement was rewarded by his grandfather giving him a good jerk forward, so that now he stood directly between his grandfather's parted knees.....like a little boy.

"You think that the only way for you to 'grown up' is to act tough, be rude and have it your own way, don't you?" Tom didn't wait for an answer. He shook his head ruefully and answered himself. "You really are a little boy after all, Mikey. Because a really big boy knows better.

'And since you are a little boy, and don't know better, it's my duty to teach you better. And do you know how I'm going to do that, son?"

Mike jr.'s eyes strayed to the hairbrush on the bed.

Tom caught the look. "Yes, that's right.   You're going to be getting the hairbrush, but first....."

Tom stood up, but continued to hold Mike jr.'s hands in his. Then he turned them around so that he was facing the bed, and Mike jr.'s legs were pressed against it. Then Tom pushed his grandson backward so that the boy's legs bent and he fell onto the bed on his back.

Tom immediately captured his grandson's legs in one powerful arms and lifted them up so high that Mike jr. was nearly bent into two with his backside forced well forward and partially uplifted.

"Uh!" the boy grunted, but the awkward position made struggling impossible.

Tom forced his free hand between his grandson's legs and grabbed the boy's belt buckle. He deftly unclasped it and then yanked the belt out of the pant loops and dropped it to the floor. Now the hand tore open the buttons that fastened the boy's pants and pulled them open with such force that Mike jr.'s zipper ripped apart.

Now Tom bent the boy's legs even further forward, so that Mike jr. was almost supporting himself on his neck. He reached under the boy, grabbed a handful of pants' seat (both briefs and jeans) and pulled them down and then up to the lifted knees!!   In a moment, Mike jr.'s ass was not only fully bared, but his position caused his buttocks to be fully opened so that even the boy's rectum gaped.

Mike jr. tried, vainly, to reach down and protect himself, but the angle at which his grandfather held him, forced the boy to reach up and support his neck at the peril of its breaking.

Now Tom opened his palm and swung his arm out like a biblical prophet about to call down the wrath of god upon a sinner.    He delivered a full swinging WALLOP to Mike jr.'s skillfully presented backside.   The diapering position not only allowed Tom's hand to punish both backside and anus, but it made the skin of the boy's bottom taught. A white, clearly delineated hand print appeared, which quickly puffed into livid redness.

CRACK!

A second wallop landed and Mike jr., aggressive in expressing pain as he was in anger, howled loudly.

CRACK!

A third spank ....and then a fourth, fifth and sixth.

CRACK!   CRACK!   CRACK!

Now, in the manner of a connoisseur, Tom focused the discipline. He would continuously punish one side of Mike jr.'s backside and then then the other. He would concentrate of the top for a while, and then on the bottom.

In between, Tom would carefully focus on the dead center of the target and repeatedly smack the boy's crack until his rectum was blood red and looked like the lips of someone who had been sucking pineapple too greedily.

When the boy's bottom had been well-reddened, Tom changed the position of his palm and spanked the back of Mike jr.'s thighs. He delivered whack after whack to the tender area just below the buttocks, until Mike jr. began to choke on sobs and the back of the boy's legs were burning hot.

Tom stopped, but he kept the boy in diapering position as he spoke to him again.

"How are you expected to behave?" he said quietly to his grandson.

Mike jr. took a few minutes to compose himself so that he could repond. "That's okay," Tom thought to himself, "let him try and hold back his tears. I like a manly boy.....but it won't do any good in a moment!"

"Re-respectfully," Mike answered.

WHAM!

Tom hauled off and delivered the hardest smack he could to the dead center of the his grandson's exposed rectum. Mike jr. screamed like a girl.

"You forgot something," Tom said in an eerily quiet voice that completely contrasted with the smack.

That last smack had broken Mike jr.'s control and, as tears coursed down his face, he sobbed, "S-sir! Sir!"

"That's better, son," Tom said. "And why is Granddad spanking you, boy?"

Mike jr. sobbed with humiliation. He knew he had to answer correctly, or this man would make him suffer more. "Be-because (sob), because I was rude!"

WHAM!

"Aaaaaaah!   Please!"

"And what else?" Tom demanded.

Mike jr. raced through a mental rolodex. "Be-because I didn't stay where you told me to stay?" Mike said, half-answering, half-questioning.

"Because you didn't obey!" Tom corrected him.

WHAM!

"Ooooow!   Oooooow! Baw! (choke). Be-because, I .....I didn't 'obey!' Oh, please, no more."

Tom jerked Mike jr. to his feet. Reversed their positions again and sat down on the bed. He pulled his grandson over his parted knees and, placing his palm under the boy's steaming bottom, hoisted him into optimal spanking position. Tom raised his right foot onto his toes forcing Mike jr.'s bottom to be uplifted and and split.

Then Tom took up his HAIRBRUSH! THE hairbrush. The most perfect spanking implement ever devised. So perfect, that D.A.D. made it a regulation implement for all fathers.   Spankings were not random acts.....they were careful administrations of Discipline and training. But no spanking was complete or genuine without the use of the HAIRBRUSH!

(to be continued)