The following story is fiction. It contain a scene of parental spankings. If such a subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
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The town clock struck midnight. The town had been waiting months for a part to repair the clock so there were those loud bells every midnight so it was well past Matt's lights-out time. Matt knew that without any doubt for it had only been last week when, after a year of pleading, it had been extended to 10:30 on school nights and 11:00 on non-school nights. He had made many promises to his father about respecting the new rules for that change which, thankfully, came along with a latter curfew now that he was a little older and presumably more responsible and capable of self-discipline.
But Matt was not thinking of those rules and promises as he read under the covers. Ever since boys could read under the covers when their parents thought them to be in dreamland they had done so. Right up there with the invention of the wheel and the printing press as the most important inventions was the flameless torch – the electric flashlight. All boys, even little boys still in shorts, knew that a candle under the covers was a surefire way to get a preview of the flames of hell if not worse. But the flashlight changed all of that. Books told wonderful tales of adventure; of daring; of bravery; of exciting places and of treasures beyond measure. How wonderful it was to be one with a hero in his fight with the evil king or magician or with the corrupt assistant. And even better to be triumphant.
But then there was another invention – the computer and the internet. These inventions were soon followed by smaller, laptop, computers that – just like books – could be taken under the covers. The internet also grew and there were libraries and libraries of things out there. Things that the local library could not afford and even those that local librarian did not countenance. Things that excited boys and made their hearts beat harder and faster forcing their hot, hormone laden blood surging though their bodies.
Sure some of these wonderful things were pictures of naked human bodies frequently entwined with each other. But that was not all for there were stories, both real and fiction, as well. Even the same books that Matt's dad took under his covers years ago were there for Matt (and the rest of his generation) to read also. With less technology to 'help' those past heroes could often be braver and more exciting than modern ones; was not Kim a junior 007 and taking even bigger risks? In the new stories a hunter's powder never got wet and left him to fight the fierce tiger up close with his rifle cum a club and his knife.
Sure Matt looked at the naked pictures and the sex pictures but only a small part of the time. Of course, he read the sex stories too. But what really got his heart racing; his cock steel hard; his eyes huge were the spanking stories. The spanking stories where a man spanked or strapped his errant son until his butt was red hot like a boiled lobster on a TV cooking show. Or where some youths proved their manhood by dropping their pants and accepting a paddling from their friends for one challenge or another.© YLeeCoyote
It was a spanking story that was his undoing. The town clock had done its thing for the night so all knew what time it was. Matt's dad had been out that evening quite late. He was not in a good mood for he had lost at his poker game. As he walked home he noticed a faint light on in Matt's room. If it had been steady, he probably would not have noticed it but it flickered. «Strange.» he thought.
He entered the house quietly and made his way upstairs. He stopped and listened at the children's doors. All were properly quiet as they should with sleeping children; all but one – Matt's – that is. There was some muffled noise that he could not identify. He turned the knob and opened the door. It moved silently on its hinges so that Matt was unaware of the intrusion.
As he stood silently, Matt's dad figured out what he was hearing – it was the sound of a hand hitting a boy's butt. He moved back to the doorway and made a little noise. Matt reacted instantly. The spanking stopped and the light went out as he closed the laptop. Dad closed the door before speaking. "I though we had an understanding, Matthew."
It took Matt at least a minute before he stuck his head out and answered. "Yes, father. I'm sorry."
"Put the laptop on the desk, son." he ordered. Matt knew that he must obey immediately but his pj's bottoms were at the bottom of his bed stuck between the sheets. There certainly was not any time to extricate them and put them on. He stepped out of bed, on the far side from his dad and put the laptop on the desk. "Turn on the light on while you are there." Matt remained facing the desk with his back to his father. With his cock jutting out, there was no way he could say that he had been doing readings for school. He waited, trying to will down the evidence which certainly is not an easy task for a healthy and horny teen. "Corner, Matthew." Matt moved to corner, glad that he would be able to hide his hard on while his father decided what to do. Maybe he would go soft in time.
Matt heard the sound of the laptop's catch. «Oh, my god, he's looking at what I was reading. I'm ddooooommmeeeedd!»
Matt knew what was on the screen – the latest hot story by the 'Yote: Twelve beats Fourteen – Twice. He practically knew it by heart after reading it a dozen times. Youths are strapped, spanked and shaved for various misbehaviors including missing curfew. Exactly what was fun, exciting and sexy to read about but not nearly so much fun in real life. It was only few months ago that he had gotten his dad to stop spanking him. It seemed an eternity before his dad called him out of the corner.
"Do you have anything to say, Matthew?" his father asked in a quiet voice. Ever since he was little that tone sent chills down Matt's spine and back up again. Whenever Dad asked anything in that tone, he was mad and it was best not to say anything (unless it was a credible denial of wrong doing). He shook his head 'no' as he stared at the floor. Matt could see his father open and pull his wide, thick, black leather belt from his pants. "Get into position, Matthew." Matt had never been strapped before but the story explained how to do it – for both the strapper and the strapee. He knew better than to act stupid and ignorant. He had actually learnt something from having to read 1984 in English class the year before.
Soon Matthew was in position and his father stood behind him with the strap. He checked the distance and delivered the cut – hard. It stung more than Matt expected. It stung more, far more, than his father's hand ever had. The blow traveled up his back and through his gut so that it seemed to knock his head off. He did his best to remain silent – like the youths in the stories. He was glad that he hadn't screamed like a baby but regretted not being totally mute like a brave, macho young man should be.
He was better prepared for the second cut knowing how painful the strap was. He took it better which meant silently. Several more times the strap slammed into his butt. After a few cuts, it started to overlap previous cuts. That introduced a new sensation – more intense pain. By the time he got his ten cuts so that he felt like he was sitting on a hot grill. He was very, very hard and he hoped that his father would not notice that. The stories talked about how terrible the cane was and he wondered if it was worse than the strap.
He remained bent over as his father lectured him on the meaning of lights out explicitly including monitor screens and flashlights and making certain that he understood that was why he had been strapped. Matt's dad sat down on the bed and ordered Matthew to get over his lap. Matt knew better than to object or even question. When he was in position, the hand spanking started. Matt could not believe how much it hurt. It was like when he was just a little boy; so small and weak. Eventually he realized that his bottom had been tenderized by the strapping so it was far more sensitive than usual.
There was another side effect. Held over his father's lap as he had been too many times in the past he felt like he was a just little boy as an embarrassment of memories of being in this unpleasant position filled his mind along with the pain flashes from his twice roasted bottom. He was overwhelmed and began to cry just as he had years earlier when he was a little boy. When the spanking stopped, he cried on his father's shoulder for sometime just like he had when he was last spanked at twelve.
When he could listen, his father told him he had been spanked for not keeping his word. Spanked like a little boy for a man's word is his bond. He was so ashamed. Immediately he was worrying how he could redeem himself in his father's eyes. He was sent to the corner again.
A little latter his father called him from the corner. "You are not nearly the man you think you are, Matty." He shuddered at his father's harsh pronouncement and the now hated diminutive of his name. "I've decided that you need an additional and constant reminder." with that he turned on his mustache trimmer.
"Please, father, please...don't...." whined Matthew even though he knew it would be counter productive at best. He watched in horror as his father moved the terrible machine through his pubes. His short hairs fell to the floor like stalks of grain caught in a reaper. Soon he was shorn just like the lad in the story. There was no question that his father had read the whole thing.
His father tucked him into bed and turned out the light. He could not sleep. His butt hurt like the blazes. His crotch was supersensitive with its little forest having been clear cut. His cock was steel hard. His mind was a mess.
There was only one thing to do. Every teen male knows that. The one thing that never requires thinking. He jacked off. He jacked off. He jacked off. He jacked off until eventually asleep overtook him. Fortunately, it was not a school day for he slept very late.
His father did not speak of it at all. Matt knew that he was being tested and resolved to act as grown up as he could and to stay out of trouble. It was three days later he found a little package on his desk. It was not very big nor heavy but it had a tag with his name one it. He opened it to find a small book. At first glance it was like those blank books in the store for people to make notes. It was not completely blank, however. It was a special book – an edition of one – that his father had printed and had bound although not with the craftsmanship that bookbinders of old used but by modern technology.
There was a title page: "Matthew's Punishment Book – Volume 1" with a start date and space for an end date.
There were several pages of "Rules of Conduct" with some blanks for changes.
Each page of the rest of the book was a form to record a transgression and the resulting punishment. All were blank except the first one which was a record of his triple punishment. It had all the important information – date, offences, punishments and his father's signature. He signed it in the place indicated.
Even before he read the rules, he knew that things would be different.
He found them fairer and more balanced than he expected. CP was mandated although there was a cop out for him with a grounding option.
By the time he finished reading them, his cock was rock hard. Maybe it would be good.
© Copyright A.I.L., February 1, 2006
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/StartingNewParadigm.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023