This story is fiction and deals with the teen dominance including spanking. If such a subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.
It started the summer I after my freshman year of high school when I was only fifteen. Unfortunately, I was still a year from sixteen when I could get a driving license so I was still getting about on my bicycle operating on just one-youth power rather than a car propelled by a herd of powerful, sleek stallions. Not really a bad thing for me as I was a free agent that summer – no job, no school, no responsibilities. My parents were (looking back) actually pretty cool although Mother tended to be very intrusive. It's a no brainer that I expected to have lots of fun. It was not even the Fourth [of July] when Mom got the phone call from her mom about her dad. He was sick and it would be a good time to visit. She took off leaving Dad and me to cope without wife, mother and home keeper.
For more than a week, everything went as you would expect. Dad went off to his job every day and I went to play. I managed to fit a little bit of house work into my busy schedule. On the weekend Dad and I did stuff together. All seemed quiet idyllic until Dad came home late and very upset from work. I was really at a loss for I just did not know what to do to comfort him and get him back together. What I could see was that he had crushed a fender on the car but that surely could be fixed. The most that I could get out of him was that he had run into a tree and no one else was involved. I suggested that he go to his room and lie down for a while. His response was quite strange: "Yes, I've been a bad boy; I'll go to my room."
What could I do? I knew Mom was more than busy with her sick father and worrying mother so I called my other grandpa, Dad's father. It was the right thing to do. Grandpa listened carefully to me and told me about stuff that Dad did more than thirty years earlier. He had been only fourteen and somewhat wild. He and his buds had gotten some moonshine. Far too much for inexperienced boys to handle and, of course, got smashed. Dad had then taken Gramps' car and tried to drive through a tree thus crushing a fender. I interjected: "The left one?"
"Yes, Jayson, the left one. Your dad was a sorry sight. He was sick drunk and threw up on himself and then collapsed on the lawn. In the morning he had the granddaddy of hangovers and had pissed his pants. Your grandma and I were most displeased with him."
"I'm sure that you were, Grandpa. Was this the time he got the 'lickin of his life' that he tells me about?"© YLeeCoyote
"That's right, Jay. Not only that but he was on a short leash for six months and he lost his pubes so that he would remember better."
I winced at that idea. Grandpa must have been extremely angry to take his pubes. "Short leash, Grandpa?"
"Yes, very short. We treated him like he was only twelve with an early curfew and bedtime, reduced his allowance and severely restricted his going out. Sort of like 'grounding' these days." Grandpa paused. "I guess that it worked for he kept to the line after that for several years. Did he seem drunk or disoriented when he came in?"
"No, Grandpa, nor did I smell alcohol. He was just mumbling: 'I'm sorry.' and 'I've been naughty.'"
"Go comfort him and get him to a doctor if he banged his head when he hit the tree. Call me later."
I was really surprised when I got to Dad's room. He was not lying down nor was he ranting or raving. He was naked, standing in the corner with his hands on his head. That was just the way he had taught me to wait for a spanking when I was naughty and the way he had to wait when he was a boy. The chair was pulled into a place where it could be used for spanking and right next to it were the hairbrush and his mustache clipper/trimmer. It was like Grandpa had ordered him: "Go to your room, boy." even though I had only suggested that he go lay down, although his response was more like I had told him to stand in the corner.
"Please tell me what happened. Did you bang your head?"
Dad turned and walked to me. "I wasn't concentrating and ran into the tree. I'm sorry, very, very sorry. I wasn't drinking. I had my seat belt on. Please, don't spank me as hard as last time."
I was a bit flabbergasted. Actually, a lot so I plopped down on the chair. Dad handed me the hairbrush and got over my lap. "I'm really sorry. I know that I must be spanked." he said.
I confess that I had thought about spanking some guys but never my own father. Most of the times I had images of my friends' bratty kid brothers and sometime one of the guys at school but never an old guy. Well, forgive me, but at my age dad's forty-four years is old. But here I was with him – bare-assed – over my lap expecting to be spanked by me. I had not decided that it should be but he did. Could I do it? Would he find someone else and this all become public if I would not? That certainly would not be a good thing! Could this require a shrink? Beside I am a dutiful son and he told me to do it so I should obey. I was confused and conflicted.
With heavy heart I raised the brush and brought it down on his waiting bottom. I watched the red spot form. It only took that one spank to understand why Dad had always said: "This hurts me more than it does you." It was then I knew that I must continue. Dad had some need to be spanked. Exactly why I would leave to the shrinks to decide, but at this moment I knew that I had to spank him and spank him hard. So I did. Over and over I raised the hairbrush and brought it down on his ass. Dad always said a task worth doing is worth doing well so I spanked him well. I spanked him long and hard. He was not a little boy but a man with real muscles and a large target so it took a lot of spanks. He did not try to escape but just accepted each and every spank. His ass turned pink and then red. He started to sob and then cry. He had always encouraged me to cry when he spanked me so I continued spanking him just like he had always spanked me. (However, if he strapped me, then I was suppose to take it stoically like a man.) I made sure that he passed the point of no return where the spankee truly knows that he has been thoroughly spanked even deep in one's soul, where one can atone for one's transgressions. His butt was a deep red now and he was bawling like a baby. Bawling like he made me do more times than I want to remember.
I stopped and let him cry some more before lifting him up. He was like a little boy and kneeled in front of me and I held him tightly as he cried. Surely he was recalling his crime and his punishment, just as I had in this position, and I hoped he was finding peace. He cried a long time but that did not matter. I would hold him as long as he needed to be held. I was glad no one else was around to see him this way. I wondered if his mind was in the present or the past of thirty years ago. There were so many similarities.
With time, his crying lessened and eventually stopped. I hoped that I could get him into bed to sleep and recover. I continued to hold him and tell him that all was OK and I loved him. Shortly after, he was able to stand up. I was about to get him into the bathroom to wash his tear stained face and to pee before tucking him into bed but he reached for the clipper and then handed it to me. It did not connect for a few seconds – Grandpa had said he lost his pubes that time. Perhaps he did other times also. He stood straight with his hands behind him ready to accept his punishment. He knew what the procedure was. He had never done it to me but again I was trapped. He was back thirty years so I turned on the machine and started. The first pass was the hardest. The clipper did not have any trouble removing the dense hair. In less than two minutes, more than 90 percent of his pubes were gone. He looked so boyish now. I led him to the toilet and told him to pee. He did. Then I washed his face and put him to bed. I carefully tucked him in and kissed him goodnight like he had done for me ever so many times.
I sat for a long time before calling Grandpa. I knew that he was waiting for me for a report on Dad's condition. One thing I knew is that I could never prevaricate with him. As a kid I had tried but he always cocked his head and scrunched his eyebrows so that I knew he knew that I was being untruthful. It would not matter that we were hundreds of miles apart, he would know. I picked up the phone. "Grandpa, he was not injured and is now sleeping." Grandpa knew that was not the entire relevant truth and told me to tell all. What else could I do? I told him all.
"You did fine, Jay. Actually, you did very well." He said. That was certainly a relief. "Your dad felt like he was a boy again and you gave him what he needed. Hopefully, he will be himself in the morning. If not, then we have to consider what else to do."
Dad seemed normal in the morning when he went off to work. Well, he did say something a little strange considering that this was the day he usually had a drink with his friends after work. "I'll be home at 4:40. Have a good day, Jay." At dinner he seemed just fine and reported that the day had gone fine at work. But he went to bed at eight skipping one of his favorite TV shows. I called Grandpa again.
Grandpa explained that he seemed to be following the rules he had to when he was twelve and after he gotten drunk and damaged the car. "He must be feeling very guilty and needs to be punished to get over it. He did when he was a boy." After saying that, Grandpa told me what all those rules were.
I did not watch the tube nor surf that night. I thought about Dad; there was not anything in the universe that mattered more. If he thought he was a boy did that mean that he saw me as his dad?
In a few days, the situation clarified. Outside the house, Dad was himself but home he was a boy. He behaved as a fourteen-year-old boy being punished by having to follow the rules of a twelve-year-old. He saw me as a father. He expected to be treated strictly and punished for any infractions. He was even confessing to misbehaviors like skipping chores and expecting to be spanked. What could I do but to give him what he required? Grandpa concurred so I took charge.
He did not take out the garbage cans to the curb one evening. Fortunately, I noticed in the morning and got it out before the pickup trucks came by later in the day. After supper, I told him and sent him to his room telling him I would be up shortly. When I went a little while later, he was waiting, naked, in the corner. He expected to be punished and I could not disappoint him. I sat in the chair and called him from the corner. He stood in front of me and I lectured him like he was only twelve. He stared at the floor the entire times, silent except for some sniffles. I ordered him to put the pillows at the end of his bed and lie across them for he was going to get strapped. I pulled my wide belt from my jeans and folded it. I gave him ten hard cuts. It was most interesting how the red stripes formed one by one and then merged into one mass of red.
"I am very sorry," he said, "I won't forget again."
I led him to the bathtub and wet his crotch using the shower-hose. I covered it with shaving gel and used his razor to remove the stubble that had grown out since I had used the clippers. The task done, I told him to shower and get to bed early.
I, too, went to bed early. I've not been speaking of it yet, but I was changing because of what I was doing. I was being far more responsible dealing with stuff that my 'rents had always taken care of for me. My room was not a mess with dirty clothes and snack remnants about. I was not keeping house like mother did but I was not being a pig either. I was worrying about Dad a lot rather than just playing. I felt very different inside – more mature and more powerful. Powerful as in commanding and potent. I was jerking off harder and more often. Dad was settling into his boyish self and seemed happy.
It was a few days later that I returned from being out with my friends. It was past Dad's bedtime but I saw a light on in his room. It took a couple of second to realize that it was flickering so that it was the TV. I entered the house quietly and went to his room. He was surprised. Not only was it past his bedtime but he was watching porno. I yelled at him for being bad. Good twelve-year-old boys do not watch TV after lights out and never a porno channel. I spanked him right then and there in his bed. I pulled back his covers, ordered him to lie on his front, pulled down his briefs and gave him ten whacks with his slipper. He felt them for it was a heavy slipper. He even sobbed a little. I tucked him in, hugged him and told him I loved him and kissed him goodnight. It was only later that I realized how parental I had been.
The next day, I studied the cable TV directions and setup the parental controls to block the adult channels and even limit viewing times. I also set the v-chip in the TV itself. I would not have to spank him if he could not misbehave. I still found it emotionally very difficult to spank him. I checked his account on the family PC. That was easy because I had the administrator access. I found that he was visiting a great many adult sites. That afternoon, I purchased a nanny program and installed it on his account. Within the day the log showed that he was blocked but he did not complain. I'm sure that he knew that it was out of bounds so to complain was to ask for a spanking. I took this as a good sign.
I always made sure that I left weekends free so that we could have quality father/son time together. We actually mixed it up as to who was the man and who was the boy since we were often out of the house. Society required that he had to drive and use the credit card to pay but those were superficial things. We had been doing this for six weeks when he actually wanted to talk about it. "I've been difficult, Jay." he said, while we were sitting in the park. "You have helped me a great deal and I appreciate what you have done."
"Dad, I love you and would do anything for you. Yes, it has been difficult but I've grown up a lot this summer. I've learnt how to handle things. I'm not a little boy anymore but I know I'm not fully a man yet. Are you yourself again?"
Dad smiled at me and gave me a hug. "I'm so proud of you, son. You have no idea. I, too, have changed. I've gotten over crushing the car thanks to you." Now it was my turn to smile and hug. "But…"
"… I still want to be a boy, your boy, at home, son. I want you to stay in charge at home like you've been for the last few weeks." I was shocked at his request. I'm sure it showed on my face. "I find that I'm more peaceful and I think you like the power and authority. Also, it helps you to grow and mature a lot."
He had me there for that was certainly true. Not only that but I was proud of my own self-discipline. "I will be honored to be head of the house." I immediately started to think about taking control of Mother when she returned next week. She had some faults that definitely needed correction. Yes, Dad hit the nail right on its head – I loved the power and authority!
It was only a few days later that Mother returned home from her being with her parents the whole summer. Her father had gotten over his illness (as much as one can at his age). Dad and I had decided not to tell her immediately about our changed relationship. She had also changed while she was away. It is not really necessary to assign blame or cause. Folk wisdom teaches that one is always a child to one's parents and this was very much true for Mom and her 'rents. Mom complained: "She treated me like I was a little kid. It was worse than when I was in college or even high school. And she had to have everything her way." Well, truth be told, it certainly was the case that Mom was very much like her own mother in this regard. Before she left she was, so it seemed, on my case about doing my school work, doing my chores, getting in early and wanting to know all the details of my life such as when I used the toilet and blew my nose. I wouldn't have been surprised if she kept track of when I jacked off. Now after a summer of freedom and actually being in charge of Dad and the house, she seemed more than excessively intrusive. Something needed to be done and very soon or something horrendous would happen.
There was another problem, however, that Dad and I agreed was more pressing. Mom's parents were smokers and Mom had been one also when Dad married her. While being back with her parents she took up the filthy, dangerous, disgusting practice again. We immediately told her that she had to stop this. We understood that just stopping was not likely, but it was absolutely prohibited in the house and she would have to stop completely in a few weeks. Dad even refused to kiss her because of the stink. My refusal was not as extreme but I did not have to suck face like Dad had to. When she was alone in the house, she smoked, thinking she could get away with it. The stench made it obvious and we laid the law down. It was only outside that she might smoke. Smoking in the car was also forbidden.
We got into conflicts on other matters also. Even as she complained about how she was being treated, she was treating us like babies. That we had managed quite well while she was gone never occurred to her. Even Dad found that she was intrusive and excessive in her ways. It was worse for me; not only for the reasons I've already mentioned but because of the usual conflict between youth and 'rents. She had trouble believing that Dad and I had managed not to fight, much less kill each other, during the summer. It was time to tell Mom two things. First, she was neither the Czar nor Empress of any nation, state, city or even the household. Second, that Dad had abdicated in my favor and had freely submitted to my authority. She sat there sputtering like a wet cat for at least five minutes and she could not believe it.
Dad assured her it was really true and explained how he had damaged the car and reverted back to being a boy after which I supported his needs and acted like a father even spanking him several times. She sat there with her mouth open like she was catching flies. Dad continued explaining that when he got over the problem he had freely decided that I should be in charge in the house. "Our boy has grown up, dear, and you cannot treat him as a little boy any more."
"Mother," I said, "while you were away, things changed. Please note that we both managed quite well without your most intrusive ways. The same intrusive way that you bitched about how your Mother had treated you. Just like you must, for your health and ours, give up that filthy habit, you must respect that we are not babies."
"How dare you speak to me like that!" she screamed and dashed into the kitchen. She returned in an instant with the wooden spoon that she had used many times on my little bottom for many years. "You're not too old to feel this, young man,…" she yelled, brandishing it as she sat down next to me on the couch. "… now get over my lap this instant, boy."
I reacted but not how she expected. I did not get up but grabbed her and hauled her over my lap. She was too surprised to do anything except scream so I easily got one leg over hers and twisted one arm behind her back. She tried to free herself but I was stronger and held her firmly. I looked up at Dad. He was grinning and nodding his approval. With my free hand, I raised her skirt and tucked it under her arm. Then I yanked down her panties to expose her behind. Without even a word, I started to spank her very hard. It took four spanks on each cheek to get everything nice and rosy. I ignored her yelling as I lectured her applying a hard spank at least once a sentence. She soon was crying. I would just have used my hand if she had not gotten that wooden spoon which I hated with a passion. I pulled it out of her hand and gave her a half dozen like she used to give to me. That got her bawling and she soon went limp in effect indicating her surrender to the inevitable changes.
I pulled her around so that I could hug her as she cried on my chest. She cried for a long time and I comforted her. I confess I had not planned to go this way so soon but she forced me. I was not even sure that I had done the right thing and the only encouragement I had was that Dad seemed to approve. I could not know if he thought Mom had the same needs as he did to be a kid or some other reason. I told Dad to get the clippers which he dutiful did without hesitation. When Mom stopped crying, I told her that I was going to treat her like I did Dad and that she had best mend her ways and mind her manners or she would have a lot of trouble sitting comfortably.
I undid the button and zipper of her skirt and stood her up. As her skirt fell, I yanked her panties down and pulled her back onto my lap. Holding her tightly as both ends, I had Dad clip off her pubes like I had taken his. She whined a lot but couldn't really fight back. I told Dad to take her to bed, comfort her and explain the rules. I had homework to do.
There was a change in the morning. Mom had gotten breakfast ready and greeted us cheerfully. She did not ask those irritating questions of either Dad or me but only if we would be back for dinner. I was delighted but was sure it would not last.
It was clear that evening that she had been smoking a lot during the day and even in the house. I had tried to give her a chance to stop gradually, but obviously that had failed miserably and stricter measures were required. I waited until after dinner. I sat her down in the family room and gave her a long lecture about the horrors of smoking. "You've have had several days to taper off but you have not. From this moment on, you shall not smoke at all, period. I shall now give you a spanking for smoking in the house today which you well knew was strictly forbidden." I did not let her complain in any way. I just grabbed her, and undid her slacks and yanked them down so that they were pooled at her ankles. Then I unbuttoned her blouse and yanked it off leaving her in just her underwear. At this point I had to hold her wrists because of her objections, so I gave Dad a signal and he undid her bra and yanked down her panties leaving her naked. She was blushing but that was probably good.
Sitting on the chair, I pulled her over my lap and clamped her legs in place. With her top half unsupported she had to use her hands to keep from banging her head on the floor. She got a long hard spanking that turned her bottom red hot. I even spanked her after she was bawling so that it would really impress upon her nicotine-poisoned brain that smoking had some very unpleasant consequences in the present (as well the promised long term ones). Both Dad and I held her for a bit and then parked her in the corner for a half hour. Then, room by room I made her collect all the smoking stuff she had – cigarettes, lighters, matches, and ashtrays – to destroy it all and put it in the trash. It took her a while to crush five packs worth of cigs one by one.
Much of her contraband stores were in the bedroom so we all ended up there. When she had finished destroying the evil material, I had her lie on her bed on a towel. Dad had used the clipper roughly the night before but she needed a proper shave. A wet washcloth started the process and then the shaving gel. She was less than happy with this happening, especially being done by me. I told her that I had seen it all before when I was born and several times when I was little so she should relax. I reminded her that a hospital aide had shaved her before I was born and I was returning her to that nice smooth state. Dad held her hands and also told her to relax. It was an early bedtime for her and Dad decided to stay with her. I had heaps of homework to do.
In the morning nothing was said but she made breakfast for Dad and me and we went off to work and school. It was that evening, when I was doing my homework that Dad spoke to me in private. "Mom's coming around to not only accepting that you're in charge but to welcome it. Give her a little time and everything will be just great. We both really appreciate the crackdown on the smoking and Mom confessed it's making it easier." I was, naturally, delighted. My destiny was up to me and I wouldn't have to put up with petty nagging and intrusions or any of the other stuff my friends complained about their parents.
It was more than a month later that Mom actually told me she was happy with me being in charge. "We're a much happier family now." I said and she agreed.
But it was what Dad told me in the greatest confidence, not even certain that he should, which was great news. I told him that he should tell me only what he was comfortable with telling me and I reminded him that he always told me when I was little that I could talk about anything with him. He took a while to say it, with several false starts but then said it in just a simple sentence. "Sex is so much better now; it's like we're kids again!" That was really great news.
I'm afraid that I may have given the impression that everything was clear sailing. It was not like we encountered typhoons but there were some squalls in the process. Dad and I had very few because he actively wanted the change from the very beginning. Dad always seem be able to be both man and boy so he would have discouraged me from taking charge of Mom if he had any doubts about my handling the situation when we talked before she returned.
Early in August, he had needed a spanking which he accepted without any objection acknowledging his misbehavior. He did try to talk me out of shaving his pubes again after that. I told him: "Little boys don't have pubes and that when you grow up, you will be allowed to have them." He was silent after that as I shaved him carefully.
Basically, it was our family secret for we did not go about with matching T-shirts with "I'm the boy" on his and "I'm the DAD" on mine. At work he is just another guy to everyone but when he takes a pee, he is reminded when he reaches inside and doesn't feel any hair. He actually preferred that I shave him rather than doing it himself. This is especially the case when he has been good and does not require a spanking. He liked the intimate contact and the physical submission.
Mother certainly has been more difficult as I've already told you about. Dad certainly helped to get her to be properly obedient. At the beginning she required a spanking every four to six days so I got to see how her pubes were growing back. Dad always encouraged her to relax and to be obedient like he was. I did not give her the choice, but used the razor when I felt that she needed it. With time, she became more accepting and lost the irrational false modesty she had acquired since she was a tween. She even accepted that inside, doors may never be locked. That rule was just a matter of discipline. Dad never had any trouble with it and I don't bother.
Along with the Thanksgiving holiday we got blizzards all over the country. Our planned family dinner was canceled as they were many people that could not travel. Mom and Dad invited their friends Ken and June Slaton and their son, Robbie, for a holiday dinner. Their daughter was safely trapped at college because of the storms. June is very perceptive and during dinner commented that Mom and Dad were much more relaxed than they had been in years and wanted to know the secret. There was some banter back and forth. Both of the Slatons promised to keep the secret and, just in case, I asked Robbie to promise not to tell, if the adults had big mouths with waggin' tongues and told. He smiled, promised and gave me his hand on it. He is about four months younger than I.
The ladies went to the kitchen and then June shrieked and we all heard an astonished: "Jayson is in charge of you?" The cat was out of the bag and Mom was due for a spanking because of her blabbing. Ken looked at Dad with the question in his eyes. Dad nodded. All I could hope for is that it wouldn't go any further because of the complications that might occur. I was very glad I had made Rob promise.
"We all heard, June." said Ken when the ladies returned.
There was not any point trying to deny it so I told Mom that we would talk about this later. I have always hated how parents seem to like to not only punish their kids but like to do it in front of their friends for the extra charge of embarrassing and humiliating them. Otherwise, I would have taken her over my lap immediately. Unfortunately, Mother continued to shoot her mouth off shocking everyone. It was totally irrational that she had just told and then was bemoaning that they knew. It would be fair to say that she was acting like a five-year-old having a tantrum. Dad understood and was embarrassed but provided the solution. "Jayson, there is only one way to deal with a temper tantrum." Ken and June did not say anything although Ken nodded. I had to act so I did.
I repositioned my chair and grabbed Mother. I dragged her over to the chair, sat down and upended her over my lap. Then it was her skirt up and panties down to expose her bottom. Everyone was silent as they watched. I had to spank her for three minutes before she shut up. Then I proceeded to lecture her as I spanked her hard. After another few minutes, I got through to her and she was bawling while lying limply. I parked her in the corner for ten minutes with her skirt tucked into her collar and her panties about her knees. Of course, the conversation was about her terrible conduct.
She was very contrite when she rejoined us. The 'rents told all to the Slatons who were all ears. I chimed in a little but it wouldn't have mattered. The women retired to deal with the mess in the kitchen and Ken and Dad settled in for a brandy and a talk. I was about to take Robbie to my room when he spoke. "Dad, don't forget that you're the designated driver today." He put one brandy glass back in the cabinet and then called: "Mom, please get a soft drink for Dad." He might have said those things even without knowing about my being in control but they sounded more authoritative this night.
Up in my room he was not interested in anything but what my being in charge was all about and he certainly was impressed by seeing me spank Mother. It was obvious he thought that it was a great idea and meant freedom. I brought him down to earth very quickly: "It a great big responsibility and effort." Only then could I explain it all to him especially the part that it was only in the house and that they had to be adults outside. I told him about how I had to be very responsible for myself, even to punish myself. That got him to thinking.
He promised to think very carefully about it but allowed that it had been really nice to tell, er, remind his dad not to drink and ordering a soft drink for him. Of course, those really weren't orders but they were close.
It was a week after school had resumed that Robbie asked if he could come home with me because he wanted to talk privately. I agreed and we got down to it over milk in the family room. First, he gave me the news that his 'rents were talking about abdication in his favor since his sister was away at college although they did not know he had overheard them. Second, he loved the idea and hoped he was up to it. Third, he had fucked up a test for no other reason than he had not studied for it. "Plain and simple gross negligence. My 'rents will just yell at me about this, which wouldn't make me change, when what I really need is a good hard spanking." he said.
Of course, it was clear that he was asking me to spank him but I made him say it explicitly. Then I suggested perhaps an earlier curfew and a shave. He immediately agreed that he would set himself a curfew but was puzzled about the shave. I explained. He thought about that for a while and agreed. "I acted like a kid and should be spanked like a kid and look like a kid and have rules like a kid." he blurted out in one quick go. "Jay, please spank and shave me."
We went to my room and he stripped down. I let him do that himself because he was in charge of himself and I was only a tool at the moment. I sent him for the hairbrush and then got him over my lap. I started with my hand which got him quite red and close to tears. Then I switched to the hairbrush. That packs a much harder wallop and in just four minutes he was crying and soon bawling. He never struggled although I'm sure that was difficult. He was accepting his self-decreed punishment like a man. When he had cried himself out, I ran the clipper through his lovely bush. I'm sure he was proud of his as I was of mine but he never flinched from the clippers. Then I used the razor to get him extra smooth. He accepted his punishment stoically.
After he cleaned up, he thanked me and asked that I help him with his new rules. It took more than an hour to work them out and they were stricter than I would have made for him. Then he went home.
The next day he told me his parents were quite surprised at what he had done. He refused to tell them exactly what the punishment had been or what the rules were. He said they were impressed. Of course, he had to live up to them. It's clear he wanted to be in charge of himself and his 'rents.
Then I thought that he is going to get there soon. I bet it would be really fun for the six of us to rent a cabin by the lake – four forty-year-old kids with two sixteen-year-olds in charge.
© Copyright A.I.L., May 29, 2007
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/DadAbdicates.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023