The following story is fiction about a man, his father and his son. The story contains scenes of strapping and role reversal. If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
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My dad moved in with us a few months ago. It was a half year after mother died and he just couldn't deal with the hassles of living alone after forty years of marriage especially with so much time on his hands resulting from retirement just a month before her death. "Us" is my son, Zachariah, and, of course, myself. Unfortunately, Zach's mother and my mother are together in the next world. Not only is it nicer that we guys are all together but it is even cheaper.
I guess that I should give you some background. It was when Zach was only ten, just four years ago that we lost his mother. It was, of course, traumatic for both of us. But we muddled through and Zach was forced to grow up fast. I did my best to be both a father and mother to my son but that is just not the same thing. After two years, I could see that my son had matured a lot more than his friends. Without his mother to pickup after him and do tons of other stuff that moms do, he learnt to be self-reliant and responsible early. I was very proud of him.
One of the things that made me notice how fast Zach was growing was what he did on his thirteenth birthday after the party and we were alone at home. "Father, I don't think that you should spank me anymore. I'm grown up now." he explained. Well, I hadn't spanked him in more than a year so I was surprised that he even brought it up.
"Well, your granddad spanked me when I was twenty-one when I messed up in my senior year in college. You're never too old for a spanking, son." I answered not realizing the full ramifications of what I said. Zach understood, however, as I would find to my surprise within the week.
The house was dark when I got home that faithful day. I had missed paying the electric bill for three months and they came by during the day and disconnected us. A phone call let us know the details and in the morning I went to the bank, got the cash and paid them. I thought it was over since all would be corrected but Zach was on my case. We had a long discussion about one of my favorite topics – responsibility. Only this time it was all about my failures rather than Zach's.© YLeeCoyote
Zach quickly got me into the unpleasant position of having to admit that if the positions were reversed he would be getting over my lap. "Fair is fair, dad. You were most irresponsible for months and truly deserve a strapping like Gramps gave you in college." I don't think he could easily see my shocked look in the dark house as he continued. "Give me your belt and get over the end of the couch, please, for your due, Father."
I tried to argue but got that standard response – "The more you delay, the harder the spanking will be."
I gave in. After all was said and done, he was right. I dropped my pants and underwear and got over the end of the couch. Zach found the right place to stand and gave me a dozen hard cuts. They hurt like the blazes and I yelled. I got up when he told me I might and got a hug and praise for taking my punishment like a man and not copping out. I could not muster the courage to tell him how proud I was of his maturity while feeling like a naughty little boy.
It was a couple of months later that Zach came to me and handed me his belt. "Father, I was naughty yesterday and talked back to one of my teachers. Please strap me." When I questioned him, he was adamant and I gave him six honest cuts. I knew that he would be insulted if I did not do it hard.
Since his birthday, over two years ago, he has gotten strapped three times and I have nine times. Even worse, it was Zach who decided that it should happen each and every time rather than I. In other words, he always owned up before I could say anything and got me before I could get to do it.
Perhaps I should have told father about the special relationship Zach and I have when he moved in for, after all, it is not usual for a son to spank his father. We really did not hide this but we did not flaunt it either. After Dad moved in we both expected there would be some adjustment time for things to come to a steady course. Dad was set in his ways and now he had to adjust to an entirely different household for the second time within a traumatic year. All of us thought that Dad dealing with the household was a good thing. Zach had school and the complex life of a teenage youth while I had work that was frequently very demanding of my time. Dad needed stuff to do to make him feel useful, needed and to keep busy. It was a good arrangement for us all.
It took Dad a while to learn everything for running a household was not what he had done before except for the few months after Mother died. But, he was managing pretty well and things were improving. Of course, Zach and I cut him a lot of slack at the beginning during the learning process. The problems started right after the football season started. We had something that was new to Dad – more channels with football everyday than on Thanksgiving. He was hooked within day and kept neglecting his work making life difficult for Zach and I. I mentioned it to him and so did Zach. "You are not a little boy anymore with time to watch every game, Grandfather, nor a rich man's wife with servants who can watch TV soaps all day. Father and I depend on you. You have responsibilities." Father agreed. Unfortunately, his actions did not speak as loudly as his words.
It was after Zach did not have clean clothes for school and we had to order in dinner that things came to a head.
"Grandfather, you have negligent and have earned a spanking." said Zach. "Drop your trousers and underwear and get over the end of the coach for your spanking." He said as he removed his belt.
Dad was incensed to put it mildly. "What is this insolence, young man? Jeremiah, spank your impertinent son immediately."
"I can't, Father. Zach is right and he is not being impertinent." I paused before I could continue. "He has strapped me – most correctly three time as often as I have strapped him in the last two years. Unfortunately, you have messed up and Zach knows just as you taught me that one is never too old for a spanking." Dad sputtered a bit and I continued. "Please get into position NOW as Zach said or you will get extras."
It took a while before Dad submitted to the inevitable demands of justice. I watched as Zach bought his belt down hard on Father's butt a dozen times. Each cut resounded in the house and Dad yelled while his butt turned red just as mine did when I was a boy and when Zach strapped me as a man.
When it was over, Dad dashed to his room but after that he did what he was supposed to on time. It was a month later before he could talk about the experience where he could actual praise Zach for calling him.
© Copyright A.I.L. October 27, 2010
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Last updated: September 15, 2023