Gender: Male Age: 40 Location: Chicago, IL
|Introduction: Kevin Hardwood learns the family tradition.|
JANUARY 24, 1970: COMING OF AGE
The light of the morning sun splashed over my eyes causing me to stir out of my slumber. I was about ready to fall back to sleep since it was Saturday. But as my mind started to focus, I quickly got up.
It was my birthday! My tenth birthday! I am always excited when it is my birthday. Who wouldn’t be, with all the food and presents? But this was an extra special day, because I was turning ten. This was a very important age for us Hardwoods.
I raced out of my bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Just like last year the kitchen was all decorated in celebration of the day of my birth. There was a banner taped to the back wall reading “Happy tenth birthday” and streamers hanging from the wall. My mother was in the kitchen fixing my birthday breakfast. The smell of the sausages and eggs tickled by nose and made my stomach growl in protest.
My mother turned around to face me. “You know that breakfast is not until eight o’clock on a Saturday morning.” My mother said with one hand on her hip. “And just look at you, you didn’t even change or bathe yet.”
I looked down at myself. I was still in my pajamas and I am sure that my hair was all a mess as it was every time I woke up in the morning. “Now, young man, go upstairs and come back down looking a little more presentable.” I grinned back at her. It was the first time she ever called me “young man” it was either “Kevin” or “child.”
“Yes, mama,” I replied before racing back to my room.
Ten minutes before eight I came back downstairs, clean and dressed. My father was sitting in his chair, his head hiding behind the morning paper. My little sister was lying down on the floor with her chin resting on her hands watching cartoons. I also had an older brother, but he was no where in sight. I assumed he must be getting his morning chores done before breakfast.
My father put down the newspaper and looked at me. “Happy birthday, son.”
“Happy birthday, Kevin,” my sister Jenny said without looking up from the television.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” my father said. “Breakfast won’t be ready for a few more minutes.”
I sat down on the sofa and my father went back to reading the paper. I was trying to watch television, but I was too excited. Just then my brother Luke came in the front door. He took off his gloves. “The driveway is all cleared out, dad,” he said.
“Good, good,” my father said. He looked over at me, “When we are finished eating we are going to visit your Uncle Justin.” My Uncle Justin owned a farm out in the country. I guessed I was going to be assigned chores there.
“Sure dad,” was all I could say as Luke smirked at me.
“Breakfast is now ready,” my mother shouted from the kitchen. We all filed to the dining room table. There was everything that you could think of on the table: sausage, bacon, eggs cooked in a variety of ways, pancakes, milk and orange juice. It was enough to feed a family twice our size at least.
My father stood up and raised his glass of orange juice. “Kevin is no longer a child,” he said as if reciting a speech. “He is now a young man and with that comes privileges and responsibilities. It was only three years ago when Luke became a young man, and in two more years Jenny will be a young woman.” He paused briefly clearing his throat. “Happy Birthday, Kevin, may you continue to make our family proud as you become a teenager.”
“Happy birthday,” everyone chimed in.
“And good luck,” my brother added with a wide grin across his face. I stared at him not understanding what he meant. My father gave him the evil eye.
After we had our fill, my father told me to get ready to go to Uncle Justin’s. I went to the closet and got my coat and gloves and headed out the door. I still had no idea why we're going there, and Luke was acting as if he knew something that I didn’t. I was guessing that he knew of a birthday present that I didn’t know about, but we don’t open presents until after dinner, not after breakfast.
I got into my dad’s pickup truck. He started the engine, shifted it into reverse and pulled out of the driveway. We lived in a quiet subdivision in a small town. My Uncle Justin’s farm was a good twenty minute drive.
“Well, Kevin you are going to get a weekly allowance now, do you think you are up to buying your own clothes and toys?”
“Yes, I am daddy,” I replied. I knew from Luke that the more you worked around the house the more money you would get. Luke saved up enough money to get his own television in his room! I wanted to save to get a good stereo system.
“Did Luke ever tell you how this tradition started?” I shook my head no. “It all started with my father. When he was younger, about your age, he was a big trouble maker. He was getting in trouble at school and with the law. His father didn’t know what to do with him, so one day he told him that he was not going to feed him unless he did work. It worked for a few months, but he started to slack off and get in trouble again. True to his word, his father didn’t feed him, but he started stealing food.
“His father then went out and bought himself a paddle, hoping to turn him around. He spanked him almost every day and still would not feed him unless he started to work. He quickly changed his life, got good marks in school, did his chores, and was a well manner young man.
“My father believed that his father spanking him was the only thing that saved him from becoming a criminal. It became a tradition with everyone in our family that when you turned ten years old you had to work for your keep and you were spanked to deter you from bad behavior. My father did it to me, I did it to Luke and now we are going to do it to you.”
The entire time he was talking I was sitting there in shocked silence. No wonder Luke was grinning at me that way, he knew all along what was going to happen to me. I some how found my tongue, “but, dad, I have always been a good boy, never doing anything wrong, and my grades in school are not bad at all. I can understand why you do it with Luke; he was always getting into trouble.”
My father glanced down at me. “You’re right he was a big trouble maker, but he is not any longer. There is always room for improvement. You only get B’s and C’s at school. I don’t ever think I saw an A on your report card.”
“But, but, daddy!” I began to protest.
“Now, now, young man, you are going through with this and that is final.”
I didn’t say another word the entire trip to Uncle Justin’s farm.
“So you are ten years old today.” My Uncle Justin said to me as he took our coats. He was larger than my father, standing at six foot three. I shivered thinking about him spanking my cousins Kyle and Steve, his two sons. “I guess you know why being ten is important by now, right?”
I didn’t say a word. I just nodded, biting my lower lip.
“I guess we should get started,” my father said. “Where is the paddle at?”
“It is in the spanking room,” he replied. “I got done making it yesterday.” Now I understood why we had to go to Uncle Justin’s place. He carves wood pieces as a hobby, and I was guessing that he craved a paddle for me. “Come on Kevin. Let me show it to you.”
He led my father and me to the spanking room. I was getting more and more nervous. I just knew that I was visibly shaking. The room was nearly completely empty except for a dresser and a chair. On top of the dresser was a wooden paddle about two feet wide and half an inch thick. My name was carved on one side. I could also see two other paddles hanging on the wall with names carved on them as well. One read Kyle and the other Steve.
“What do you think of your birthday present?” Uncle Justin asked.
“It looks nice,” I replied not knowing exactly what to say.
“I think we need to break it in,” my father said picking up the paddle and pushing out the chair. He sat down. “I am going to give you two swats for each year of your age,” he informed me. “How many is that?”
“Twenty,” I answered.
“That’s correct. You are to count each swat out loud, so we both know what number we are on. You are also to address me as sir when I am spanking you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I said trying to hold my voice as steady as I could.
“Remove your pants.” My father ordered me.
I looked up at Uncle Justin, hoping they would both tell me this was all a big joke. He just nodded at me. “Go ahead, young man,” he said. “It is for your own good.”
Seeing that I had very little choice, I slowly removed my pants and let them fall to the ground. I stepped out of them as my uncle picked them up and placed them on top of the dresser.
“Now remove your underwear.”
“Can’t I leave them on, please?” I begged.
My father gave me a cold stare. “Kevin, now.” I lowered them down and stepped out of them as well. It felt odd exposing my small penis to both my father and uncle. I placed my hands over it, trying to hide it from them.
“Place your hands to your side and get over my knee,” my father instructed me. I did as he told me to, exposing my ass to the both of them. He placed his free arm over my back, holding me in position.
I closed my eyes, still having trouble believing that this was happening to me. Before long I felt the cool wood slap against my backside. I opened my eyes. It did not hurt at all. Then I quickly remembered what I was supposed to do. “One, sir.”
Then the next stroke came down. This one hit my other cheek and didn’t hurt as well. I began to relax, “two, sir.” Maybe they were just playing a joke on me after all.
The next one came down with a little more force and caused me to tense up a little. “Three, sir” I said behind gritted teeth. He was alternating between both of my ass cheeks. “Four, sir,” as the next one hit me again. I could feel them now and I still had sixteen more to go through.
The next one came down with a whack. My right foot came off of the ground, “five, sir.” Whack! This time my left foot came off of the floor, “six, sir.”
Whack! This one stung me and I could feel my ass starting to burn, “seven, sir!” Whack! “eight, sir!” I was starting to whimper and tears were forming in my eyes. Twelve more to go, I thought.
The next two were a little softer, “nine, sir. Ten, sir.” He must have been playing with me, because the next one came down on my red ass with a loud whack. “Eleven, sir,” both of my feet were kicking. Whack! “Twelve, sir!”
Without thinking, I placed my hand over my burning ass. “Hands to your side!” my father shouted at me. I quickly brought them back down as he pushed me up closer to him. Whack! “Thirteen, sir!” I shouted tears streaming down my face. Whack! “Fourteen, sir!”
The next one came down even harder. I wanted to cover my burning ass, but my father had my arm pinned down to my side. “Fifteen, sir! Please, no more!” Whack! “Sixteen, sir! Please, I’ll be good, I promise! I promise!” I sobbed.
“Of course you will be good,” my father said calmly. “You will be better than good.” WHACK! The sound filled the room. I let out a scream. “Seventeen, sir!” I shouted trying to catch my breath. WHACK! “Shit! No more, please, it hurts! It hurts!”
“It is suppose to hurt,” my father told me. “What number was that? Or do I have to give it to you again?”
“Eighteen, sir,” I said quickly, not wanting to feel it again.
The next one came, hitting my ass softly. “Nineteen, sir,” I whimpered. The last one also fell softly on my throbbing ass. “Twenty, sir.”
“You can get up now,” my father said to me. I got up, wiping the tears off of my cheek and rubbing my burning ass. “After the spanking is down you are to thank me for spanking me and promise that you will do better in life.” I stood in front of him sobbing, not saying a word and not carrying about my exposed penis. “Go ahead now, say it.”
“Thank you for spanking me, daddy. I promise that I will be better.” I said between sobs.
“You are to call me sir when you are with me in the spanking room,” he corrected me. “Now try again.”
“Thank you for spanking me, sir,” I said my sobbing slowing down. “I promise that I will be better.”
“Now put on your clothes, we are going home now. I am so proud of you, son.”
“Did you like the present that Uncle Justin got for you?” My mother asked me when we got home. All I could do was nod my head. “I’m glad you like it,” my mother smiled at me. “Now go put the present in our spanking room downstairs.” I always wondered what was inside the locked room in the basement. I wished I still didn’t know what was in there.
I followed my father downstairs to the room. He unlocked it and ushered me inside. It looked identical to Uncle Justin’s spanking room. Hanging on the wall was a paddle that had the name Luke engraved on it, next to it was a vacant hook. My father handed me the paddle, my paddle. “Hang it up next your brother’s,” he ordered me. I did as he told me. I could feel my underwear pressing against my blistering ass.
“Bed time for you is now at ten. Every Saturday before you go to bed you are to come down here with your brother, strip out of all your clothes and place them in the dresser. Then you take your paddle off of the wall and hand it to me when I am ready to spank you. Now go upstairs and have lunch. We will open the rest of your presents after we are done.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I caught my father smile at me before I raced up the steps.
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