The following story is fiction about CP. The story contains scenes of strapping. If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now. The inspiration for this was the attached mp4 video which I found uncredited on Tumblr. The katana is the long sword of the Samurai warrior. When I wrote this in July 2022 I found a pool like shown in the video advertised for US$100-200 depending on the size. Click to open the image off-site (NSFW).
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A Katana, a Pool and Me
The folks and I were visiting my Uncle Mike and family for the weekend. There was only one thing that made it very special – the genuine katana Samurai sword that was now in a place of honor above the fake fireplace and mantle in the living room. This was the first time I had seen that fascinating Japanese blade for Uncle had just recently inherited it from his uncle who had seen honorable service in Japan in ‘44.
I had seen many Samurai movies and how they used such swords was most fascinating. Many a night I had dreamed of being a famous Samurai easily decapitating many powerful enemies in heroic battles. Uncle Mike was delighted to be able to recount his uncle’s war stories to this avid listener who just wanted to hear about that blade. Eventually, those stories came out telling how his uncle actually had gained it in combat although the Japanese captain was actually wielding a pistol when he surrendered yet still had to yield his precious katana.
I could not get Uncle to take it down that first day but he promised – sortta or maybe – to do so the next morning.
Then after lunch I was left alone. My olds went to visit some college friends with my uncle while my aunt took my little cousins to a birthday party. I was deemed old enough to stay alone for a few hours without wreaking the house.
That, to my great regret, turned out not to be the case despite my best intentions and promises.© YLeeCoyote
I sat on the couch for a long time staring at the katana and its scabbard so beautifully displayed and clips of Samurai movies. I became obsessed. I made a bad decision. I got the stepstool from the kitchen and climbed up for a better look. I even gave it a touch.
Then I saw how the child proof latches worked and not being a child released them and took the blade and the scabbard from the wall. I had enough common sense not to swing the katana in the house and went out into the backyard. I sheathed and unsheathed it and slashed the air several times thus feeling how perfectly balanced it was.
If only I had stopped then and returned things to their proper place I probably would have gotten away with my misdeeds or just gotten a mild scolding but I compounded my sins for I decided that I had to try it. I got an apple from the bowl and set it on top of a couple of logs. Feeling totally safe in the backyard I even set my phone to record the action.
I unsheathed the blade, raised it high and gave a mighty downward cut. The apple flew to the ground unscathed. The blade was unharmed. The plastic around the above ground pool suffered a fatal injury. The tip of the blade had punctured the soft plastic and the water rent it completely like the dike with the leak in the fable. I escaped the flood with the sword and wet feet. I was doomed!
After a while I returned the katana and scabbard to the wall. There was not any way that I could hide this.
* * * * * * * * * *
The time for dad and uncle to deal with me was after dinner. I had confessed what happened when Aunt Cynthia returned with the little ones and that was the agreement we reached. I hoped that the lecture and bemoaning how irresponsible I was wouldn’t take forever. I really knew that I fucked up and I even heard that it is in my job description as a know-it-all smart ass hormone filled teen.
We meet in Uncle Mike’s den. I did my best to apologize and confess my crimes. I even promised to pay for the pool although on an installment plan from my lawn mowing and snow shoveling earnings. Dad quickly picked up on that and promised to help by cutting my allowance and using that reduction for the damages. I didn’t really like that but I realized I better not say anything.
Well, that all took care of the top end of me and so the conversation switched to my bottom end. As soon as my feet got soaked, I knew my tail would be getting the strap. It was never ‘if’ but ‘when’ and ‘how much’. It was soon settled. Uncle will be giving me my age with the strap. His first born, my cousin Tony who is almost twelve was deemed to be old enough to watch as an object lesson. I have up to five days to ask Dad for the second set.
The first order of business was to talk to my cousin which we did in his room. “Tony, as you already know, I was a very naughty boy this afternoon and destroyed the pool accidentally doing stuff that I knew I shouldn’t be doing. Our dads and I talked about this and I’ll be paying for the pool. I’m also getting strapped.” I had never seen him so quiet. “Your dad wants you to watch so that you know what it will mean when you move on from getting spanked to getting strapped.”
“WOW!” he interjected. “That’s awesome! When?” he said with big eager eyes.
It seemed silly to tell him that watching or leaving early was his choice as he obviously wanted to but I did anyway.
A little later the four of us were in the backyard at the picnic table. Uncle had a very heavy leather Garrison belt which he said “This is just perfect for the job.” TMI I thought as I removed my shorts and boxers and bent over the table gripping the sides tightly for my thrashing. I had seen it done in various movies so I was bitting down a handkerchief to help me not scream.
Uncle did his duty properly. It hurt like the blazes but the handkerchief helped me be a man about it. “That’s it, boy. You took it very well.” he said and both dads left. Tony was very impressed and told me so then. He had an ice bag and he applied that to my flaming hot rear explaining that his dad told him I would need and appreciate it.
I thanked Tony for his kindness and explained how I managed not to scream. Need I mention that I slept prone that night?
Tony inspected me in the morning and noted how much longer the marks of a strapping last compared to those from a mere hand.
It was not a fun trip home because of all the talk about the incident but I was trapped. Fortunately we were on good smooth roads with a car with good suspension and well-padded seats.
I made the decision to get it over that evening and Dad obliged me. Dad told me to strip and lie on my bed on a couple of pillows to get my naughty butt up. Of course, I did and had my handkerchief ready. I learnt that Dad had gotten strapped by Granddad back when he was a boy. Gramps had a special strap for the purpose called a tawse.
It was an extremely effective implement as I quickly found out. I also saved two cuts by not waiting and reduced my worrying time. Dad told me I took it like a man and that he was proud of that part of the incident.
I never did get to see the katana slice through anything on that visit. Maybe next time – after I ask Uncle Mike very politely.
© Copyright A.I.L. July 6, 2022
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/KatanaPoolMe.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023