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The following story is fiction about spanking.  The story contains scenes of spanking by hand and with a strap.  If these subjects are 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.

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Regret for a Strapping


I was unemployed after several years of working a good job.  The economy was in bad straits because of, well, whatever.  My older sister and her husband wanted to take a trip but there was a "problem".  The problem was Oliver, my thirteen-year-old nephew.  He certainly did not want to go on a trip with his parents and, naturally, he had to attend school.  Sis made me an offer that was most attractive.  I would stay in their house, making sure that Oli kept in bounds and deal with the household issues.  Actually, the house was partly mine since it was the family homestead and this arrangement would save me the expense of my own place.  As well as being uncle and nephew, Oli and I were good friends since I was only twenty-eight while his mother was ten years older than I and his father was (as Oli put it) an old codger of forty-one.  Oli loved the idea, and agreed to the usual sort of conditions.

It was a week after his parents left that Oli brought home the note from school.  Not only did the note report his 'crime' but it had to be returned, signed and include a statement of the disciplinary action taken.  "Your parents will not like this at all." I said with the brilliance of an bright pre-schooler.  "What would they do, Oliver?"

"Yeah.  Dad would be very unhappy for he doesn't like the strapping that is required."  My parents never did this when I was young for they eschewed violence.

"Strapping does not sound like fun at all."

"That's what Dad says too but he's responsible for the entire family.  Mom used to do it, but now that I'm older she says it is strictly men's business."  I had visions of my desk with a sign: «The buck stops here.»© YLeeCoyote

"How does this happen?" I asked, not wanting to vary the procedure.  I thought that it would be best for Oli and easier that devising my own.

"Well, Unk, Dad takes off his belt which lets his pants drop.  Then with pants down the strappee bends over and the strapper gives the required number of cuts.  Six is the usual count and right for this situation."  I was sure that Oli was being precise if not a bit stilted in his description.

There wasn't any reason to postpone this necessary unpleasantness, so I pulled my belt out and handed it to Oli.  My pants started to slip and fall as soon as I opened the fly.  Oli placed a chair so I had something to lean on and gave me the required six cuts.  They really hurt and I yelled for each of them.  Oli then said to pull up my pants and returned my belt.  He considerately got a cushion for me to sit on when I dealt with the school letter.  He said that he was very sorry and promised to be good in the future.  He really did look very sorry and sounded sincere in his promise.

Later, when I got ready for bed, I checked out my bottom.  It was, surprise, red and tender.  I hope it had the behavior altering effects on Oli that were desired.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a week later that Oli wanted to talk, man-to-man, with me.  My first thought was that he was in trouble at school again but he quickly assured me that was not the case.  The problem was strictly between us.  A very private family issue.  After dinner we sat in the living room (well, that was what my mother called it when I was a boy).  Oli was very serious and kept looking down rather than at me which was not him at all.

"Unk, I'm sorry.  It was very wrong of me to strap you last week.  I'm sorry." he said very softly.

I was puzzled.  "And you been well behaved since then?"  He nodded.  "Well, I am responsible for you, right?"  He nodded again.  He was practically crying.  I gave him a hug.  After a while, he spoke.

"You should have strapped me not the other way.  I tricked you.  It wasn't right.  I need to be spanked.  I feel absolutely terrible about this."  He buried his face in my chest.  I just held him tight and said that everything was OK.  I reminded him that he had been good since then.

Of course, it also made sense that a naughty boy gets spanked rather than his guardian.  On the other hand, he felt very bad about strapping me and that probably kept him in line also since he did not want to do it again.  I did not want to hit my nephew any more than my parents wanted to hit me.  There was something barbaric about it that I did not like.  But was there another way?  Oli was feeling very guilty and believed that there was but one way to clear his conscience – and that was for me to spank him.

We talked about the whole thing – especially how spanking and then strapping was supposed to be unpleasant so that he would change his behavior to avoid them.  Oli agreed that was what had happened this time.  That was all true, he agreed, yet somehow not quite right.  He said that he was supposed to feel the strap not me.  "Well, you did feel it.  In fact, you are still feeling it.  You feel it because you have empathy.  That is a grown up emotion.  A little kid doesn't have it."

"I'm feeling it ALL the time.  I can hardly think about anything else.  You have to strap me so I can get over this terrible feeling.  Please Uncle.  Please strap me hard."

"No," I said trying to avoid my own conflicts, "that is too painful.  I'll spank you instead but only because you insist."

"But spanking is for little boys.  Dad promoted me to the strap years ago."

"What you did wasn't very grown up, was it?"

"No, Uncle."

"OK then, take your pants down and get over my lap, Oli."

Oli stood up and dropped his jeans and underpants and got across my lap.  I was sitting at a slight angle so his weight was mostly on the couch.  I placed my hand on his waist and patted his butt.  It was a beautiful butt – lovely curves, hairless and untanned like his back and legs.

"Ready, Uncle." he said, "Please give me the good hard spanking that I so richly deserve."

And I did.  I lost track but I must have given his bottom a hundred spanks.  As I spanked him, it turned from white to pink and then to red and then a deep dark red.  After the first couple of spanks, I could see my hand print.  Towards the end, Oli was sobbing softly but he did not try to get away.  He was as brave as he could be.  When I was finished, he sat (weight on his thighs) on my lap and we hugged for a long time with his head on my shoulder.

Oli was perfectly behaved for the rest of the time.  When his parents returned, we had to tell them about the school problem.  His Dad asked what punishment was given.  "Six cuts just like you would have, Father." Oli said truthfully.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was when Oli was graduating high school a few years later that Sis commented that I must have done something very special because Oli changed that month I was in charge.  "I guess I must have used the strap more effectively than you."

Oli commented.  "He sure did.  I still remember it most vividly.  I'm most grateful that he did for it made me grow up a lot."  He gave me a hug right there in public to show how much he meant it.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. January 14, 2010

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