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The following story is fiction about three boys getting caught smoking and having to face the consequences.  The story contains scenes of spanking and strapping.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  The theme of the "Growing Up" series is that a lad is trying to impress his parents that he is maturing and should be treated as such.

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.  Please take a moment to email.

Click to have ​Metric units​ (​American/English units​) used in the story.

Growing Up: The Fags


We didn't buy them.  Certainly not!  We were underage although maybe if we had looked eighteen we might have bought them from some young clerk too busy to check ID.  No, we found them in the park.  They were under a bench, in an almost full package and quite clean.  Erik actually spotted them first and Rick picked them up.  We were all curious about them.  Some of the big guys; the tough guys used them.  We saw them being used by all sorts of people on the street and in the movies.

We were just three thirteen-year-old boys and we thought we were grown up.  This was something that grownups did.  Naturally, we had to try.  It was easy to get matches.  There was an old mansion in the neighborhood so we went there.  We figured no one would see us there.  We sat on the back porch steps and each took one.  We lit three matches and each lit up like we had seen done in the movies.  The first try has us coughing.  But on the second try we managed to get them properly lit.

It was NOT like we had seen done by others.  We coughed a lot and felt sick.  But that was not the worse of our problems.  Our adventure was progressing, albeit slowly.  We were just starting on the second one when the fuzz showed up.  We were, quite literally, busted.  It turned out that a neighbor has seen us and, worried about vandalism, had called the cops.  Feeling awful, to match our green complexions, we were taken to the police station and our parents called.  "To witness our execution." quipped Eric.  None of us laughed.

A couple of hours latter, we were taken from the holding cell and had to face our fathers.  They were, to say the least, three very angry men.  We all heard three lectures – interlaced and even overlapping before we transferred from the police to our fathers' custody.

Erik immediately learnt that he was going to get the spanking of his life as soon as they got home.  "And it ain't going to be with my hand his time.  No sirree!  You think you're grown up so you're going to get the STRAP just like your big brother.  You won't be able to sit for a week." roared his father.  I had seen that horrid, vicious strap.  It was an old-fashioned razor strop a full ​two inches​ (​five cm​) wide and ​three-sixteenths of an inch​ (​five mm​) thick.  I had seen Erik's brother's butt after it was strapped and it looked like fresh raw hamburger.  It certainly would be the spanking of his life.© YLeeCoyote

Rick was grounded for life.  Well, three month seems like forever and his allowance stopped and lots of extra chores.  I couldn't make up my mind immediately which was worse.  But Rick had also seen that strap and it petrified him so as unpleasant as the grounding was it was better for him.

Dad just said he was terribly disappointed and we would discus this later.  In short, we were three very sorry and quiet little boys being taken home by our fathers.

* * * * * * * * * *

We did not talk as Dad drove us home and I was immediately sent to my room to think about what terrible crimes I had committed.  I realized that I deserved to be punished.  I thought that all three of us now even had police records and would be taken to court and sent off to the reformatory in total disgrace and to the great shame of our parents.  Our lives were already over!

I was quite a wreck when Dad came to me a couple of hours later.  Later he would tell me how hard it was to keep from laughing when I thought I had committed the crime of the century as he set me right about that.  It took him a while to calm me down that I did NOT have a police record and I was just a naughty little boy rather the criminal of the year.

He told me to shower and get to bed and that he expected that I would be able to talk about an appropriate punishment for my misbehavior tomorrow.  It was easy to ignore my stomach growling for food as I tossed and turned thinking about how I should be punished.  Knowing my buddies' sentences was a mixed blessing.

* * * * * * * * * *

At breakfast Dad asked if I was ready to talk about yesterday and my downcast eyes told him I was not.  Since it was not a school day, he told me to stay in my room and think about it carefully after explaining a few more things.  He would be working his den and available when I was ready or had any questions.

It took me a long time to work stuff out.  Cigarettes were, like coffee, alcohol and driving, not for kids.  And that especially included kids (like me) who thought they were grown up but definitely were not.  Dad had explained a batch of stuff so I knew I was not a criminal and did not face jail time.

Now the question was what was the appropriate punishment.  Dad was capable of doing what my buddies' dads were capable of.  Of course, I was not happy with what they were getting.  In my mind eye, I could see Erik lying on his bed, his over-strapped butt dark red from the vicious strop and his pillow soaked with his tears and snot.  Rick was probably out slaving in his yard.  I had to decide what should happen to me.

It was a question that I had faced before.  The first time I told Dad a simple hand spanking and he gave me one.  Then he gave me an appropriate spanking – long and hard on my bare tail that had me crying long and hard and unable to sit comfortably for days.  I learnt that it was only partly for my misconduct and the rest for being stupid (about my punishment).  Obviously, this time was very serious misconduct.  I had to chose carefully.  Too light I would get it and then what Dad thought and too much I would suffer more than required.

I made a list showing stuff.  I included things that I hadn't done like an illegal purchase or actually breaking the law.  Basically, my buds and I were just stupid to smoke and we knew that.  The trespass was trivial since we did not enter the old mansion and we were underage.

I settled on a mixture of things so as to avoid great extremes which really are most unpleasant.  With my list I made my, shall we say, bid to Dad.  I was certain I had to get my tail roasted so I decided that this was the time to stop with childish OTK spanking.  I went off to see Dad in his den rather than wait for him to come to my room so he would know that I was ready to face up to the consequences for my misconduct.

"Dad," I said, "how about a strapping, grounded for a week and some extra yard work?"  I also showed him my list of mistakes and those I avoided.

I was in the right ball park for he bought it but made it two weeks and upped it to thirteen cuts.

I gave him my belt and got into position for my first strapping.  I knew what to do since Dad had described how he had for Grandpa.  With my pants down, I bent over and gripped chair seat tightly.  I did not expect that it would hurt so much, and I gave a yell when it hit me.  I managed better control for the rest although I was crying by the end.

"OK, son, that's it.  Pull up your pants.  You did well.  I'm proud that you are growing up."

My butt stayed red and I was in pain for days.  I hated all the extra chores and being grounded but I did get out for school so I did not go stir crazy.  And I'm past childish OTK spankings.  Well, that is one sign of growing up (not that I like the strappings).

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© Copyright A.I.L. January 22, 2013

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