Get 2 bed

Author: Unknown

"Get upstairs to bed, young man!" He ordered. "And I don't want to hear a sound from you for the rest of the evening."

Hitching up his pj bottoms, Dean slowly and sorrowfully climbed the stairs calling over in his mind the events of the evening as he did so. The initial lecture had itself been a humbling experience.....

"You've been a very naughty little boy. You've been asking to have your bottom spanked all day, that is exactly what you are going to get. Now go upstairs and get ready for bed and be quick about it.

Dean had mounted the stairs for the first time with an apprehensive fear welling up from his stomach. After putting away his outer clothes and making hurried ablutions, he entered his bedroom. On the bed waited his pajamas, he slipped on the bottoms over his briefs in hope that his father would not punish him on the bare bottom. He didn't bother putting on the top, he knew his dad would make him take it off immediately.

"You've taken your time boy" David greeted him angrily. "Dawdling as usual, I suppose."

"No." he protested, "I..."

"Don't talk back to me!" came the immediate response. Dad continued as he picked up a wooden hairbrush from the table, "Your behavior has been disgraceful. What have you got to say for your self?"

"Please Daddy."he blurted out, "Don't smack me, I'll be good!"

"Oh yes, we've had promises like that before, haven't we? And have you kept them?" Before Dean could attempt a response he continued "No you haven't! There's only one thing you understand and that is a sore bottom."

Taking the unhappy boy by the arm, Dad sat down.

"Get over my knee!" he instructed.

Dean allowed himself to be dragged cross the outstretched lap, Dad's large left hand moving to rest behind his neck and force his head down close to the floor. Dean waited in transpidation as his right hand smoothed the thin material across his slightly trembling posterior. Then...

SMACK! The hand came down on one cheek.

SMACK! the other cheek. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Dad spanked slowly and methodically until Dean was squirming and gasping.

"Up you get." he instructed, helping Dean to his feet. Dean rose without a feeling of relief. Experience had taught him that is was unlikely to be over so soon.

"Now!" he began with ominous emphasis. "We will deal with the fact that when you were sent to change for bed you dawdled over it after I had told you to be quick!. Now put your hands on your head."

"Oh, Daddy, please, no!" begged Dean, knowing only too well what this instruction implied.

"Head!" was the only reply and unhappily he obeyed.

"You are going to have to learn to do as you are told." Dad went on as he slipped his left arm around his from the rear to encircle his waist, "And if you don't, you know what you deserve." Deans Pajama bottom where dropped to the floor and flurry of smacks descended upon the back of Dean's bare thigh just below the cheeks of his bottom. His cries seemed to produce no sympathy, for within seconds a further slapping was applied to the other thigh.

"Now." Dad went on, "Keep your hands up on your head." He took the white briefs by their waist band and yanked them down and spanked Deans bottom a further ten times.

"Now take yourself off into that corner, young man." He pointed into an empty corner of the room, "And you can just wait until I'm ready to be bothered with you."

Keeping his hands clasped on his head and hampered by the briefs around his ankles, Dean shuffled over to stand facing the wall.

He recalled the silence and shame of those fifteen minutes in the corner as he now steadily mounted the stairs, the dreadful command "Get upstairs to bed, young man" still ringing in his ears. The time had dragged on, but all too soon, it seemed in the end, the instruction came to "Turn yourself around, and come here."

Dad picked up the hairbrush and tapped it menacingly on his palm. "I'll teach you to misbehave, young man. You are a thoroughly impertinent little brat. Well, you won't be so pleased with yourself when you've had a good dose of this. Will you?"

"No Daddy." came the miserable reply.

"All right, Get over my knee!"

Once more Dean stretched himself across the outstretched lap. The hairbrush tapped gently against the tender flesh of his bare buttocks making him wince with the thought of what was to come. The tapping stopped.

He held his breath.

CRACK! "Ouch!"

CRACK! "Yeow!"

CRACK! "Yeow Oww!"

CRACK! "Yeoww Owww Owwww!"

CRACK! "Oww ... Daddy!"

CRACK! "Oww ... Oh Daddy, Please!"

CRACK! "Oww ... Daddy I'm sorry!"

CRACK! "Oww. I'm sorry I've been... "

CRACK! "Oww ... A naughty boy."

CRACK! "Oww ... Pleeeeease!"

CRACK! "Oww ... I'll be good.

CRACK! "Oww ... I'm sorry ... I'm sorry.."

Dad lifted him to his feet. "You deserved a good spanking, didn't you?"

"Yes, Daddy." murmured Dean sobbing tearfully.

"And why?" he demanded.

"Because... because I've been... naughty."

He hung his head, reduced to the status of a sobbing infant. There was a further indignity to come. David glanced towards the clock. It stood firmly at eight thirty.

"Get upstairs to bed" he ordered. "Into bed straight away! And I don't want to hear a sound from you for the rest of the evening."

Pulling up his briefs over his reddened bottom, Dean slowly and sorrowfully climbed the stairs to his bedroom, his buttocks burning with fiery intensity.