joelfanp2

Joel Buys a Fanny Paddle P2

That Friday night I slept at Joel’s house, his parents were away again and I wondered - though I didn’t articulate it to Joel - whether his parents were around as much as they ought to be.   I think that I had only seen them once in the two years of our friendship their absence was very convenient for our evolved relationship.

During the evening, Joel had me do my homework and tested me on my social studies notes I had a test coming up. I worked hard to please Joel and he praised my efforts.

For dinner, we ate White Castle hamburgers and then played cards at the kitchen table. Joel surprised me by abandoning his pipe for an after-dinner cigar.   He smoked it with the band still on it and worked it in his mouth as though he had been a cigar smoker for a long time.   I asked him when he had started and he grinned at me and replied, “All dads smoke cigars.”   Then he paused, blew out a cloud of smoke, and waved the cigar at me warningly.   “But I better not catch you smoking or I’ll scrub your mouth out with soap and warm your pants.”   I blushed, and Joel noticed it.   He played a few cards and then started talking again.   “Remember what we’re shopping for tomorrow.”

I looked down at my cards and was filled with shame.

Joel lifted my chin and held it so that I had to look into his face.   “Little boys sometimes need their dad’s hairbrush or fanny paddle to teach them a really good lesson.   Sometimes I need to spank you longer than my hand can handle, then the fanny paddle will do the job.”

Joel dropped my chin and stuck the cigar back in his jaw he chewed it into a corner of his mouth and grinned. “We’ll hang it in a place of honor in the kitchen or bedroom, and I’m gonna have something carved on the handle. It’s going to say, ‘From Daddy Joel to his Son, Sandy!’ and I know just the right little paddle for your little behind.”

We finished our card game and then my dad told me to get ready for bed.   He had already laid out my doctor denton’s on the bed.   He lit another cigar and picked up a magazine cautioning me, “Don’t dawdle up there. Take a shower, brush your teeth and put on your p.j.’s. Don’t make me come up and remind you or I’ll put a slipper on your hienie.”

Upstairs, on the bed, were my doctor denton’s with the backflap. I showered, brushed my teeth and put on the pajamas.   It was then that I noticed an advertisement, ripped from some magazine, laying on Joel’s desk. I picked it up and looked at it. At the top it said, “MANCO NOVELTIES: Gifts for Dads to Share with Lads.” Below this banner were pictures of four paddles. They seemed smaller than the pictures I had seen of fraternity paddles, but it was hard to tell.   They were made of wood in slightly different shapes. All of them were supposed to be cute, and it made me get excited to think of the many fathers who would buy these paddles thinking that it was amusing to apply some good wood to their boys’ backsides.

One of the paddles was shaped liked an oval and had the words “Pound the Mound to Make Junior Sound!!” Another was carved in the shape of two rounded mounds, a representation of its intended target.   On that ‘adorable’ spanker was emblazoned the words “Let’s Get to the Seat of the Problem!” There was a rear view picture of a boy’s bare behind raised over his dad’s knee and the dad presiding over his son with the “Seat of the Problem” in his upraised fist.

A third paddle was carved in the shape of a tennis racket with appropriate criss cross lines painted on it. Over the lines, the words “WHACK HIM OVER THE NET” were written in red letter. The fourth paddle had the traditional paddle shape with a simple picture of a father seated in a chair holding the upper arm of a dancing boy. The boy’s pants and underpants had been taken completely off and his bottom was bright red. The boy was crying and his frenzied tears shot from his eyes.   His angry dad was walloping him with a facsimile of the same paddle whose title was: “THE BOARD OF EDUCATION - APPLIED LEARNING.”

I don’t know how long I stood looking at the ad, but my hand strayed between my legs and suddenly Joel’s voice boomed from the door.   “Did I tell you not to dawdle?!” Joel saw the ad in my hand. He strode angrily up to me and took it out of my hand.   “You really need this, don’t you.   You don’t know how to listen. This is what I’ve been talking about.”

Joel pulled me over to the bed and flopped down. In another moment he had put me across his knee, turned down the seat of my pajamas and was giving me my second spanking of the day. It wasn’t as bad as the first, but it lasted until I was crying because my new dad seemed to feel - “No tears, no lesson learned.”   Then he buttoned me up. Joel sat me on his knee and talked to me for a long time.   The talk was about obedience.

“I don’t like to spank you, son,” he said, “but you will learn to mind me. Now get to bed.”   I crawled sniffing into bed and Joel turned out the lights. He left the fanny paddle ad on the desk, where I could still see it.

Joel Buys a Fanny Paddle (Pt. 3)

The next morning, Joel and I had breakfast and then went outside for a catch.    Joel didn’t seem to have the fanny paddle on his mind, but I certainly did.   After we’ed thrown the ball around for awhile, Joel caught it and took out his pipe and tobacco pouch. I knew that the game was over and went over to my dad.

Joel filled his pipe, lit it and said, “How about we take in a movie today?” Joel said the title of a film that he knew I was eager to see.

“Yeah, that’d be great, dad.”

“Great, but I need to get some more tobacco, so we’ll stop at the smoke shop first, okay.”

“Okay, dad.”

The smoke shop was one of Joel’s favorite places. I had gone there with him a few times before we become father and son, and now I went there with him a lot. He and the owner could talk for a long time about different kinds of tobaccos and different pipes.   When we went to the store, Joel did a lot of ‘dad-type’ things with me in front of the smoke shop owner.    He’d mess with my hair, or hold me by the neck in a paternal kind of way or give me playful pats on the butt.   Once, he actually told the owner that I was his boy.” When the man looked surprised, Joel grinned in this manly good-natured way he had and said, “I’m his big brother, but since I’m raising him, I’m really more like his dad.”   The store owner got into it right away, probably another reaction to how different Joel and I looked in terms of age and size and said to me, “Well, it seems to me that you’ve got a pretty nice ‘dad’ here.”

I smiled at the man and then stood boyishly by while dad and the man talked about pipe tobacco.

When we got to the store, I noticed something in the window that I hadn’t seen before. It was a display with the sign “MANCO NOVELTIES” over it four paddle laid out right in the store window.   The smoke shop owner had added his own display sign which said, “Give Dad a Helping Hand.”

“Joel,” I said, looking at the paddles and really feeling scared. “I don’t want to go in you don’t really need one of those things.”

Joel turned to me and said, “No, Sandy, I don’t need one of those things, but you do. You don’t tell me what I need and don’t need. You are a kid and you do what you’re told to do.   I care about you so much that I’m not going to let you turn into a brat. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it to you again, you need to learn discipline. Now get into that store before you ‘get it’ right on the street. I’m not kidding.”

Joel grabbed my upper arm and looked me straight in the eye, “If you give me any more lip I’ll whale you right here on the street. Do you understand?”

I nodded and Joel took me into the smoke shop.

There were several men hanging around the counter talking to the owner of the shop. Most of them were puffing big cigars and a few had pipes in their mouths.   Joel put his hand on the back of my neck and we walked up to the counter.

The store owner took his own stogie out of the corner of his mouth and greeted us. “Hey men, what can I do you for?” he said.

“I need something for my boy,” Joel said his voice didn’t imply what he was going to be asking for it sounded as if he was going to be buying me a present.

“Yeah?” the man asked, “and what’s that.   Don’t tell me your getting this little kid a pipe-starter kit.” He was joking of course, and Joel responded in kind.

“Right,” he said laughing, “he knows what I’d do if I ever caught him smokin’. Don’t you, son.”

“Yeah, dad,” I answered.

Joel looked at the store owner and said seriously, “I’d whale the tar out of him is what I’d do,” he said. “No, we need a nice fanny paddle. Sandy’s a good boy, but sometimes he needs a reminder, don’t you son?”

My face flamed with shame, and I could feel tears coming up into my eyes. “I guess so,” I said. I was embarrassed, but I was also starting to feel a little angry. I accepted Joel as my dad, but he didn’t have to embarrass me.

Joel looked at me hard. “You guess so?” he said. “You guess so?!   Oh boy, son, you are not showing the right attitude at all.” He turned back to the store owner, who was chomping on his cigar again.

“Let’s see the paddles,” Joel said, all business now.

The man came from behind the counter and moved over to the paddle display case which was on the other side of the store. I noticed that a few of the men in the place had picked up on the conversation and were watching us.   One of them, another of the cigar-smokers, sauntered after us.   He was a tall think man smoking a large cigar.

The store owner opened a glass case top and pointed out the four paddles. Joel didn’t waste any time, he took up the paddle with the picture of the pant-less boy, being spanked ‘standing up’ by his angry father and hefted it in a fist grip.   I could tell that dad was testing the paddle’s weight to make sure it would deliver a sound spanking without hurting me.

The tall man watched Joel for a minute and then reached into the display case and took out another paddle, the one shaped like an oval that invited you to “pound junior’s mound!”   He tried to immitate the way Joel had held and tested the paddle and I felt proud. My dad was young, but this older guy was trying to immitate him. My dad had a confidence that had nothing to do with age.   He was sure of himself.

The tall man made eye contact with Joel and said, “My father had an old fraternity paddle that he used on me and my two brothers a couple of times. Boy, I’ll never forget those tannings. Watching you with (he pause) .is he your brother?”

Joel shook his head, “I’m the nearest thing to a father he’s got, so he’s my boy.”

The tall man looked a little puzzled, but rolled with it. “Well, anyway, watching you with the kid, made me think that I could use one of these with my own son. He’s about ten, same age as your boy.”

Joel didn’t bother to correct the man about my age. I could tell that he didn’t care for this guy or want to talk about me with him. Joel stuck his pipe in the corner of his mouth in a gesture that just about told the guy to ‘go to hell’ and turned to the store owner.

“This is good,” Joel said to the store owner, “wrap it up and give me five of usual, and a refill for my pouch.” Dad handed the store owner the pouch he kept his pipe tobacco in.

Five of the usual, turned out to be five more of the cigar that dad had smoked the night before. Dad put the cigars in his shirt pocket so that a third of the cigar with the gold band stuck out.   The owner gave Joel the fanny paddle in a bag and returned the tobacco pouch.   Joel took my hand, and said, “Say goodbye, Sandy,” just as if I were five years old.

“Goodbye,” I said obediently.

Dad beamed and messed my hair a little. Then he took my hand and lead me out of the store.

Once we were outside, Joel put away his pipe and took one of the cigars out of his pocket. He stuck it between his teeth and lit up. Once he had the cigar smoking, he worked it to a corner of his mouth. The gold band just touched his lower lip.

“That guy was a creep,” Joel said. “Who the hell does he think he is talking to me about you. Come on, I’m taking you home. You have that social studies project to work on and I’ve got some economics work of my own.”

I could tell that dad was in a certain kind of mood, because he took my hand in a firm grip and walked me home. I felt very much under dad’s control in both a protective and exciting way (the excitement was not without some fear I must add.)

All the time we were walking home, I was thinking about the paddle that dad had just bought. I was going to be good I was going to make it my business to never give my dad a reason to use it on me.   I knew I had it completely under control. (No boy has it completely under control.)

That afternoon, I tried to work on my social studies project it all started out fine, because I was really interested in the subject. At one point Joel came in to see how I was doing I noticed that he was still carrying the two cigars around in his shirt pocket.

“How’s it coming?” he asked.   He took one of the cigars out of his pocket and rolled the end in his mouth.

“It’s okay, dad,” I said.   “I like the material, but there’s a lot of work......”

Dad interrupted. “You have sports club and violin practice tomorrow, so you need to get it done today.”

“Today!?”

Dad raised on eyebrow and stuck the cigar in the corner of his mouth, it tilted up in a kind of cocky, way.

“Uh-huh,” dad said, “today. You have enough time, if you don’t waste it. You’re not going to waste time are you?” Dad looked threatening.

“No sir,” I said.   I had never called Joel ‘sir’ before, but it came out very naturally at that moment.

“Good, then I have your word. Keep going, it looks like you’re doing great!”

Joel left the room with the unlit cigar still in his mouth. I fumed inwardly.   I was tired already, and dad wanted me to finish it. I ran my hand though my hair and went back to work.

After about a half an hour, I felt bored and restless. I didn’t have to finish the stupid project that day.   I could get up early on Monday or work late on Sunday and get it done. Dad didn’t need to be so controlling about everything. In one part of my brain a warning voice said, “Don’t forget, you’re being good.” But another angry voice silenced the first with, “Fuck you! I’ll do it!!”

Quietly, I turned on the t.v., I put the volume on so low that no one outside the room could possibly hear it. I gathered all my materials around me so that if dad came in I could quickly kill the t.v. and look like I was working.   When I had watched one show, I would go back to work......if I felt like it.

My plan was perfect, except for one flaw.   I got absorbed in the program and didn’t hear the door open behind me, or my dad approaching until a hand grabbed my ear in a twist grip.

“YOW!”

I was up on my feet in a moment and dad was pulling out the desk chair.

“OW! My ear!” I cried.

“You little brat!” dad said. He sat down in the chair and held me in front of him, still gripping my ear.   I gave little skips to try and deal with the pain.

“You lied to me.”

“Dad, I.....”

“I’ll ‘I dad’ you.    I’ll teach you to disobey and fib to me, young man.”

Dad got out of the chair and hauled me out of the room toward the bathroom.   “Oh no,” I thought.

“You’re getting a mouth scrubbing and then you will be spanked within an inch of your life.   Now open your mouth!”

Dad turned on the tap and picked up a large bar of soap. It was a funny brown color and looked like pumice.   Joel lathered it under the water. Then he sat on the toilet seat and put me on his knee.

“OPEN!” he bellowed and I quickly opened my mouth.

Dad put the bar of soap into my mouth and began to scrub my tongue with it. It felt like sandpaper and tasted like lye.    It also lathered like crazy.   In seconds my mouth was filled with foam that spilled over my lips and made bubbles that floated right out of my open mouth.

Dad worked away with the soap, rubbing it against my teeth so that scales of it scraped away and were imbedded between the teeth. After a minute of mouth washing, Dad said, “Rinse!”

He took me to the sink and held my head down while he scooped water into it from his own hand.   Then, still holding my head down, he reached around to the front of my pants and pulled them open. Bubbles were still rising from my lips as dad yanked pants and brief down my legs.

“Lift your feet!” he order and I did.   Dad pulled the pants and brief off and threw them on the side. “You’re not going to need these in a hurry!” he said. “Now you come with me!”

Feeling very exposed with just my shirt, shoes and socks, I was taken by the hand and marched back to the bedroom.   Dad sat in the chair and it was only then that I saw what was on the desk.   Dad had caught me with the t.v. on with the fanny paddle in his hand.   My eyes fell on the picture of the howling boy and the intent father - but only for a second, because dad lifted me up and the next minute I was in the now-familiar position across his knees.

Dad turned my shirt up, because it had a long pointed tail that covered my bottom, then while he was holding me down, he took a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it with one hand.   The strong smell of the cigar soon permeated the room.   I could hear Joel fidgiting behind me and I knew he was reaching for the fanny paddle.

“You’re the best boy any dad ever had,” Joel said, “but you still have a whole lot to learn, and I’m afraid, son, that you are going to learn in the hard way. I am going to spank the living daylights out of you and then you are going to experience time in the corner.”

With that my first experience with a fanny paddle commenced. If you’ve never been firmly pressed over your dad’s lap and spanked with a wooden paddle, you cannot imagine what it feels like.   Unlike a hand spanking, or even a hairbrush, the size of a paddle allows the spank to make a concussion across the entire top of your bottom. The wood has no yield and it doesn’t get tired.

After dad had given me only three spanks with the fanny paddle, I burst into howling tears and began kicking and thrashing.

WHACK! WHACK!   WHACK!

“Are you going to mind me?” Joel bellowed, spanking away at my little behind.

“Yes dadddddddeee, yeeees!”

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

“Are you going to lie to your daddy?”

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

“Nooooo, oooh, dadddeeee, please. No more. Waaaaaah!”

WHACK! WHACK!   WHACK!

“Are you going to do what I tell you?”

WHACK! WHACK!   WHACK!

“Waaaaah!   Ooooh daddddeeeee, it huuuuuurts.”

“ARE YOU!”

WHACK!   WHACK!   WHACK!

“Ooooooooh, yeesss, I promise, I promise. Daddeeeee, I love you.....please no more.”

I started to shake and Joel stopped the spanking. My backside was, I knew, flaming red and burning like fire.

Joel held me over his knee and calmly smoked his cigar for awhile.   Then he walloped my painful bottom with his hand.

“Yow!” I bawled.   “Oooh Dadddeeeee, daddeeeee.!”

“Now you listen.   You will march yourself into that corner for bare botty time. I’m going to sit right behind you in this chair and if you move or rub your little bottom, I’ll take you across my knee and spank you some more.   Do you understand, young man?”

“Y-y-yes, Daddy.”

Joel lifted me off his knee and put me in the corner. For the next hour, he sat behind me smoking while I cried and tried not to rub away the hurt. Once I forgot and put my hand behind me and was instantly put back in Joel’s lap for another volley of hand spanking. When I was completely awash in tears and snot, Joel lifted me up, wiped my face and returned me to my punishment time.

After the hour was up, dad sat me on his lap, as was his custom, to talk about my actions and their consequences.

He told me that I couldn’t put on my pants for the rest of the evening, so I would have a good reminder of my lieing to him.

I had to eat bare-behind and we even played cards (I had to sit on a pillow which dad smiled fondly about) without pants.

Before bed, I had to get back to work and finish the whole rest of the social studies project. Dad sat in the room with the fanny paddle in his hand the whole time as a warning of what I would get .

When the report was done, Dad said it was great and gave me a hug and put me to bed....but he would only let me wear a t shirt to sleep in.

Tomorrow, he’s going to hang the paddle on the wall in the kitchen, but he won’t need to use it ever again.   “I’m going to be good.   I’ve got it under control”

THE END.