Father and Son

by Anon

This story is not so much about the spanking but about the build up, and the relationship between the father and son. A modern story about the awkward moments, cheeky comments and the things that cross the lines. It's a bit long winded I guess, but there seem to be so many stories that jump straight into yelling and screaming and a sore behind, but I like to set the mood, and get some background on the situation.

As I slouched on the sofa for what must be the 100th time to watch my favorite show, I thought about how actually it wasnt my favorite show anymore. I had watched it death over the summer, and I dropped the remote on the floor and sighed.

“What's wrong with you?” Asked my father as he came in.

“I'm bored..” I replied and sighed again.

“Well go do something then.”

“Urgh.. Like what..” I sat up and crossed my legs underneath me and sighed yet a third time.

“Well I dont know, boys are supposed to have lots of imagination, go outside and play before your skin turns to dust from the lack of fresh air and sunlight you get.” Dad smirked at his own joke as he set his suit jacket across the back of a dining room chair.

“Ha ha... I dont want to go outside, nobody plays outside anymore Dad, everyone has computer games and a million channels on their tv but not us...”

This time Dad sighed and looked at me with his hands on his hips.

“You know, if I had complained as much as you do when I were your age” he began, with the signature wag of his finger, “My pa would have given me something to complain about.”

I had already finished his sentence in my head, as this was also a classic. I rolled my eyes and picked up the remote again, mumbling whatevers n yeah yeahs to myself.

“I heard that” Dad said, accompanied by a playful slap upside my head, and then he walked out into the kitchen. I decided to follow and press him more about something to do.

“Dad, I'm still bored..”

“Well don't worry about it, you'll be back at school in no time, and then you can complain about that instead!” He mocked as he set about making himself some coffee.

“Oh, dont remind me... Do you think that kid that moved in across the street will be at my school?”

“Yeah he is, he was enrolled months ago.”

I contorted my face into one of disgust and threw my arms down as a child having a tantrum would. “And you never told me! You know I hate him! At least I could have prepared myself for it..”

By this time Dad was getting annoyed, he interrupted my rant with a stern glare and said “Watch it Samuel..”

“Urgh, but he's so annoying, he's always trying to pick a fight, and he thinks he is so much better than everyone else, and now I'm going to have to go to school with him!” I was almost shouting at this point.

“Just ignore him son.”

“I can't, he just goes on and on until you snap and want to hit him in the face!”

“You better not have hit him in the face.. but I can understand where your coming from, the really annoying, constant going on and on of someones voice..” He picked up his newspaper as he said this and returned to the living room to sit in his chair with his coffee.

“Thanks a lot!” I frowned after him.

“You know I'm only kidding, just tell him to leave you alone, or answer him back like you do me, he'll soon leave you alone if you out-annoy him.” He opened his newspaper and peered over the top at me as I slumped back onto the sofa. “Speaking of which though, you really do need to control you attitude a little better. Things have gotten very slack over the summer with me not being here so much, and naturally your feeling more defiant as you get older; but I won't have you raising your voice and speaking to me like this all the time, you hear?”

Now I had my sulky face on.. Today sucked, summer sucked, I almost wished I WAS back at school...

“Sam?” Father repeated.

I didn't even know why I was ignoring him, but I made a grunting sound to acknowledge that I understood. Apparently that was not adequate; as my Father now lowered his paper and looked at me angrily.

“Samuel, I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

I liked to wind my Father up, generally speaking he was a pretty easy going guy, and the kind of Dad that let most things slip, but I always knew when I'd gone to far, and after ten years, I knew the limits by now; so reluctantly, after a longer than expected pause I averted my eyes from his gaze and replied.

“Yes sir..”

Sure enough I was back at school before I knew it, and I did indeed complain. Within a week, my Father had been called to pick me up and see the principal. Even with my dads laid back attitude I had a feeling this was one of those “gone to far” moments.

I had gotten into a fight with the boy across the street. His Father was already in the office with him, talking to the principal. As we had both ratted each other out for starting the fight, and were still shoving each other even in the office, it was decided that we should be kept apart, and there was no need to talk with both children and their parents together.

I sat outside the office, with my hands together and the fingers intertwined in my lap. They had been in there for some time, and my Dad was taking forever because he had been called away from a meeting at the office. I let out a big sigh and threw my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, just at the wrong time. My Father came marching round the corner, and I shot up out of my chair, looking earnestly at him.

“S-i-t d-o-w-n” He ordered through gritted teeth.

I returned to my seat and hung my head, he really was angry... I could only remember him being like this a few select times before. I had once broken a neighbors window and pretended it wasn't me; I stole from his wallet one time to buy sweets and I'd sworn and shouted at him before too. It suddenly dawned on me what each of these events had been accompanied by, and a sick feeling raged through my stomach and up to my mouth.

Luckily, the other boy and his parents were just about to leave, and as the door opened to the principals office, my Dad stepped forward.

“I'm so sorry about this.” He began, directing his comment equally to the boys parents and to the principal. I couldnt listen or concentrate as they spoke, I was sure that this would not result in what I thought it would... I was too old now, all those incidents had happened ages ago. He said himself he understood I was getting older and more defiant as I grew older, he said it was natural..

The next thing I knew Dad was yanking my upper arm, and tearing me away from my seat. I came back to and walked through into the office. I stood awkwardly behind one of the chairs in front of the desk. I shot a quick glance at the principal and then one to my Dad, before dropping my head again and looking at the floor.

The principal and my Father shook hands, and the principal sat down behind his desk.

“Please, take a seat.” He said, gesturing to the two chairs in front of me and my Dad.

My Father sat down, and I was unsure if the offer had applied to me, I was actually fairly well behaved at school, I wasnt old enough to get into any real trouble and this was the first time I had been called to the principals office. I soon realized that the offer had indeed included me, as two pairs of eyes fixed on my location.

I fumbled with the heavy chair, it was one of those large wooden framed things with a huge cushiony, padded back, and I couldnt grip it let alone pull it out. I wriggled it somewhat and quickly sat down, forcing my legs through the small gap between the chair and the desk. I gulped as the conversation started and began to chew the inside of my mouth.

With my head hung, I strained my eyes up to follow the conversation from person to person, trying to be inconspicuous. Various phrases and text book sentences were being thrown around when eventually attention returned to me.

“It isnt like you to bully other students, Sam” The principal said.

I frowned and looked up at him. “I wasn't bullying him! He was..” I noticed my Father had moved forward in his seat and was staring me down. I had also involuntarily moved forward and realized I must have seemed quite rude or threatening; I was just shocked that all of a sudden the blame had shifted to me, and I was being accused of bullying! I moved back and looked at my Father to acknowledge his concern and continued in a calmer tone.

“He was annoying me, and so I started repeating him and then it just sort of happened..” My voice trailed off somewhat at the end, and the words became fragmented as I said them.

“What just happened?” Demanded my Father.

“We just started fighting... I dont know, I think.. he hit me first.. and then..”

“Well Justin says that you started hitting him.” The principal interrupted.

I honestly didn't remember who had hit who first, but it had annoyed me that Justin, whose name I now knew, had blamed everything on me; even though I had moments before done exactly the same thing to him.

The meeting ended abruptly after that, as I became sulky and resistant and refused to answer anything with more than a mumbled yes or no. So the principal warned that if it happened again I would be suspended, but as it was a first offense, I was simply going to be sent home and both me and Justin had received detention.

Silently me and Dad made our way back to the car. I always rode front seat with him, but he was obviously still annoyed and I didnt know if I really wanted to this time.. But the idea of sitting in the back felt weird, and I could keep an eye on his anger levels better from the front seat; so I climbed in.

“I cannot believe you... Less than a week back at school and I'm coming to see your principal!” Every now and then Dad would take his eyes off the road and shoot an angry glare at me.

“It's not my fault..” I started.

“I don't wanna hear it Samuel! Do you have any idea, the consequences of my leaving work to come pick you up!? Of all the stupid things for you to do! What is wrong with you!?”

I was already annoyed from the meeting in the office, and now I was stupid, and completely to blame again; when I had told him how much this kid annoyed me only a week ago, and he knew exactly what was wrong.

I crossed my arms and frowned, staring straight forward out of the window.

“Well?” Dad asked again.

I didnt reply, and I didnt move.

“SAMUEL!” It was more to get my attention that a yell out of anger.

I reached forward and turned on the radio. I saw my dads knuckles go white on the stearing wheel before he turned the radio off again and stopped the car. He shifted in his seat to face me. If looks could kill..

“I'm talking to you Samuel, and you will look at me when your being spoken to and you will answer me if I ask you a question!”

“What's the point, you don't listen anyways...” I didn't look at him but I unfolded my arms and stared at my hands in my lap.

“You havn't said anything!”

“I just did what you said..”

My Father looked puzzled for a moment, then another wave of anger flew across his face, and in a raised tone he answered “I told you to annoy him back NOT to hit him! I specifically told you not to hit him in the face, and you know full well that you DO NOT FIGHT! You never hit anyone, do you understand me?!”

I shrugged. He was right, I did know full well that fighting was bad, and that hitting was bad. He couldn't possibly hit me now that he had said that, so I felt safe to push him even more.

“Answer me when I am talking to you!” He reached forward, grabbing my shoulders and turning me toward him. I tried to resist and turn myself to face forward again, and I certainly wasnt going to answer him or look at him. He shook my shoulder and shouted.


Now I was unsure of myself. He really hadn't ever been this angry before, and I guess I had never purposefully annoyed him so much before, but it was difficult to stop now. I tried to think, what would be more embarrassing, a spanking or letting my guard down and apologizing now. But I reluctantly looked at him, but kept my mouth firmly closed.

He obviously decided that this conversation would be better finished at home, and he signed deeply and threw his hands in the air, as if defeated; but it was all of a sudden and I flinched, misinterpreting his gesture as an angry one, and in a split second I had changed my mind about apologizing.

Before I could say anything, Dad put his hand on my head and stroked my hair.

“Sam, you know I would never hit you.” He seemed concerned, as if in that split second he lost all his anger as I had lost all my rebelliousness.

I half smiled at him “So you're not going to spank me?”

He almost laughed. “That's not the same thing, and I sure as hell will be spanking you.”

He started the car again, as I looked at him in disbelief. He glanced over at me.

“What did I tell you about your attitude the other day? You almost got suspended from school Sam, and then you were rude and obnoxious toward both me and your principal.”

“But I didn't mean to! It was just so unfair, you were making out like I had bullied Justin and he started it, and then you were all mad at me and...”

“That's no excuse son. You have to learn to control your anger. I was angry, but I was still civil and I havnt shouted unless I felt I had to. The same applies to you, even more so. You respect your elders at all times, even if you think they are being unfair to you. You can debate, but you don't argue, and you don't answer back. I know we have our fun, but I thought you knew the difference, perhaps that will have to stop.”

“No, I do know the difference. I'm sorry...”

“Then you understand why you need to be punished”

“But you said you would never hit me, and that I shouldnt ever hit anyone. Why are you allowed to hit me if I'm not allowed to hit people?”

“Like I said, it's not the same thing. I'm not hitting, I'm smacking, and I'm doing so lovingly and to punish you, not to hurt you. You on the other hand were hitting Justin out of anger, and you were doing it in an effort to hurt him. THAT is not okay. Mums and Dads are allowed to smack, nobody is allowed to hit.”

I didn't like that answer, and I returned to my sulky face, and started into my lap again. Dad looked at me and smiled.

“You should count yourself lucky. Spanking isn't half as bad as what it used to be. My Father would literally beat me when I was your age. Everybodies Fathers would, even teachers were allowed to spank once upon a time. And we didn't yell and scream about it either, you took your punishment, sometimes you would even have to thank the person spanking you! Today it's not so acceptable to use a belt or a cane, but that was the norm back then; and I can tell you it hurts a lot more than what I'm going to do.”

I wanted to ask him what exactly that was, but I knew I would find out soon enough...

We pulled into the driveway and I wondered how long I could get away with sitting there in the car. My Father hopped out and came round to open my door, ruining that plan.

“Go on upstairs to your room, I'll come and see you in a moment.” He said.

Slowly, I slid out of the car and looked up at him.

“Go on..” He said, gesturing toward the house and closing the car door behind me.

Grudgingly I dragged my feet across the lawn and went upstairs to my room. It had never been like this before. Before I had been caught in the act, or returned home and immediately bent across my Fathers knee, with his hand mercilessly returning strike after strike.

I sat on my bed and thought about what Dad had said. I was glad to hear that he wouldnt be using his belt or a cane on my poor backside, but I still felt anxious still wondered if there were a way out of my impending doom. I also thought about what else he had said, and decided I wouldn't cry and scream and beg him to stop like I had done when I was younger. I was ten years old now! I wasn't going to thank him though..

With that there was a knock on my door. It seemed off that Dad would knock at a time like this, I didn't know what to say, I didn't want to tell him to come in... Luckily, or not so, it was just a warning knock, to let me know he was there, and he opened the door and slipped inside anyway. I gulped as I saw that he had bought his slipper with him.. Still, it could be worse. I suddenly wanted to plead with him, and looked longingly from my bed up into his eyes.

He sat down next to me on the bed.

“Now, you know what's going to happen, and you understand why, don't you?” He asked.

“Yes..” I mumbled, reluctantly

With that, and without another word, he lifted me across his lap, and pulled down my trousers, leaving only my briefs to cover myself with. Before I knew it, he had swung his arm back and the first swat landed with a slap. I gasped at the shock of it, and clutched the bedsheets with tight fists.

Without warning and before I could recover, the next slap sounded. I heard it before I felt it, but soon enough it burnt across my bottom. And then again, and again, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP. It had a slow but steady rhythm, and each spank was equally as hard as the last. SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.

Just as I thought I would break my promise to myself, and yell with pain, it stopped. My Father pulled my trousers back up and helped me back on my feet. Despite my best efforts, a few tears had escaped and let a shiny trail down my cheek. I thought I would be too embarrassed to look at my Father after such an event, but it seemed right to look at him as I wiped my eyes with one hand and reached back to rub my bottom with the other.

He pulled me close to him and wrapped his arms around me. I did the same and we hugged each other for a moment without saying anything.

“I'm sorry I got into trouble Dad.. and I won't be cheeky anymore.” I said eventually, and we pulled away from each other, with his hands still at my sides, he Father smiled at me, and ruffled my hair.

“Glad to hear it son”

“I aint thanking you tho...”

He chuckled and said “No, I wouldn't expect you to.” He stood up gave my butt another friendly slap.

“Ow..” I said, and rubbed my bottom again. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Hey that's my thing, I roll my eyes at you remember? And it hurts too.. don't roll your eyes...”

He laughed and opened the door and I walked toward him to follow him downstairs.

“Oh, and you don't get away quite that easily by the way. You can come out of your room this time, but you are grounded, so no going outside, no tv, nothing. But the next time you get into trouble you will grounded properly, okay?”

“But Daaad!” I frowned at him.

“No buts, I can make a slipper hurt a lot more than that if you'd prefere. And don't think I won't bare you backside next time.”

Now I was embarrassed... “No...” I mumbled. As we went downstairs, I tried to negotiate the terms and conditions of the next grounding.

“Or how about you just do as your told and you wont get grounded at all?” My Father suggested.

“Oh yeah..” I said, and I sat down to wonder about what else there was to do without tv...