A Bedtime Spanking



Like most school nights, at 8 P.M, Iíd told Van and Bryce to start getting ready for bed, let the twins know it was almost that time for them, then started to check on everyoneís chores. Except for the basic growing up, which you just canít stop, things around my house have been pretty stable for several months now. Steven had moved in with us in November, and Troy had been in and out not long after that; but, older boys moving in (or out) just isnít as disruptive as when Van and Mickey, or even just Daniel, had joined the family. By this point, I knew the chore list by heart, but still checked it to be sure I wasnít mistaken.

I donít bother to check every boyís chores every night. Iíll admit that there are some I check more often than others, simply because others do a more consistent job than some do - and please note that Iím naming no names here. Still, there are some chores to which I just donít have to pay that much attention. I pretty much notice when I walk into a room whether or not the trash needs to be emptied, and I can tell just by walking past the utility room if the cat box didnít get emptied. Which it hadnít. I knew who it was, but I checked the list just in case. I even went to my office to check for a chore-switch slip; because I did not want to accuse the wrong person. However, once the Ďtís were crossed and the íIí dotted, I got the calendar and added a strike, then counted back to confirm what I already knew. I was ready to go have a talk with the little miscreant right then, but made myself slow down and actually looked at a few facts before I made a decision.

I walked into the dining room, where Daniel and Ryan were still studying. I waited for a moment until they came to a stopping point and looked up at me, before I addressed them.

"Daniel, you have three strikes" The boy went pale as I announced this. "I want you ready for bed at 9:45 and waiting outside my office. No boxers."

His eyes went wide when I added the last bit, and he opened his mouth, but I walked away without giving him a chance to respond.

None of my boys are shy around each other. On an average day, from 8pm to 8am, itís more common to see boys running around in their underwear than dressed. Nudity is a little rarer and even Mickey, who normally sleeps nude, usually leaves his shorts on until heís ready to turn in. On the other hand, itís not rare either, and all the boys are fairly comfortable with it. Iíve not seen Caleb nude since spanking him a few months ago; but, Charlie doesnít take underwear to the shower with him, and just last week, I went to talk to him right as he was coming out of the shower, and he finished drying off and dressed while we talked. Itís just not that big a deal.

Standing naked in the corner is a different prospect though. If youíre naked, with your nose against the wall outside Dadís office, it really only means one thing. Not that spankings around our house are totally private. Our house is sturdy, but itís not soundproof. If Van or Bryce is getting a spanking, the twins now about it, and, depending on how hard it is, probably the people in the playroom do as well. When Noah gets a spanking, Iím pretty sure everybody in the house knows about it. That boy holds it back, but when he finally lets go, heís LOUD. However, itís one thing to know intellectually that everyone knew you were getting spanked (and with this many kids, if one knows, pretty soon everybody knows), and something else for their to be blatant, unquestionable proof that everyone knew you were about to get it.

At 9:44, Daniel came from downstairs. His hair was still damp and he was naked as a jaybird. He gave me one short but pleading look, then turned and pointed his nose at the wall. Heíd made sure to be standing as close to the office door as he could, trying to keep from being in direct view of the living room.

All four of my high school boys were in the living room with me, already ready for bed, and doing a little last minute reviewing for their finals. Steve and Charlie had looked up when Daniel walked by, but Caleb and Bobby seemed to ignore him completely.

I looked at Danielís back for a moment. Heís been growing a bit lately and isnít as nice as he was even earlier this year, as he seemed to have flattened out. His chest was starting to fill out some, but he had almost no waist anymore. His bottom was narrow and didnít even have a lot of back to it either. Looking more closely, I think I could see where he was starting to fill out again (which was to be expected, since he seemed to eat his body weight every day), but he still wasnít boyish anymore. Not that there was anything else really boyish about him - or not his looks. He was still mostly smooth; but, he did have a thick patch of pubic hair, though it hadnít started to spread yet, and the only other hair he had so far was under his arms. Iíd not seen Daniel hard lately, but I was sure that he was at least six inches, and he was big enough that his foreskin - Daniel was the first boy I adopted who was uncut - was pulled back enough that you could see the slit most of the time.

You should have seen him when he first moved in with me. He was 11 then and had just a little extra weight on him. His little bottom was so cute and spankable. By the time the boys started school the next year, a couple of months after heíd turned 12, heíd grown nearly four inches. He was going through another of these undefined stages then, but a month or two later, heíd filled back out and was absolutely gorgeous, with an almost perfect rear end. I canít wait to see what he looks like when he fills out after this one.

No matter what his body looked like right now, I still loved his skin tone. His upper body and lower legs, where he often wore a lighter shirt and shorts, were a mid-Hispanic tone. Iíve known Hispanics who were very pale, and Iíve known others that had the dark, dusky tone common to Arabs, but Daniels skin was a pleasant nut-brown, like the lighter parts of a pecan shell, like a rich sienna. I was really sad that heíd switched to boxers after moving in with us, though. I remember when he was first living here, how his briefs outlined a perfect patch of paler skin for me to redden. Now, with his boxers, the length of which often varied about depending on brand, and different styles of shorts, the color of his legs rather creeped from the dark brown of his lower legs to the soft cream of his cheeks.

I left Daniel standing there, pondering his fate for about ten minutes while I reviewed what I had decided to do. Then I stood and gave someone else a shock.

"Caleb, come on. I want to talk to you, too."

"But I didnít do anything," the boy snapped in a knee jerk response.

I turned back to him with a glare that sat him back. "Did I say you did?"

"No, sir."

"What did I say."

He put his book aside and reluctantly climbed to his feet. He straightened his boxers, then followed me as I walked into my office. As I passed him, I tapped Daniel on the shoulder and he followed us, staring in nervousness at the boy who was coming to witness what Daniel had expected to be private.

I went to my computer desk and turned the chair to face the room, then sat. Daniel and Caleb came to stand before me, not as nervous now as they had been. If Iíd sat in the spanking chair, the chair to my writing desk, Iím sure they would have both been about to have kittens. Daniel must have known he was still going to get spanked; but, my choice of a chair suggested it would still be private after all, which must have been some relief for him. I leaned back for a minute, observing them and considered having Cal remove his boxers as well. It would make a better impression on him, but he wasnít being punished, so I decided against it.

I gave them a minute more to stew and waited until they were both beginning to fidget before I said anything else.

"I want you to know that Iím tired of messing with both of you." As soon as I started talking, both pair of eyes snapped to me, then, equally quickly, they looked down at their bare feet. "Do either of you think Iím unfair to you?"

I waited for them both to shake their heads no, before I continued.

"I donít think the chores you guys have to do are particularly hard; but, I thought we should talk about them for a minute, since they seem to be such a huge hassle to you two."

It was harder to tell with Daniel, but Caleb blushed at my rather sarcastic tone.

"I know you didnít live here when you were the same age as Van or even Bryce, Daniel. I guess you were between the twins and Barryís age. Right?"

He nodded, then added a mumbled Ďyes, sir.í

"Did I work you a lot harder then than I do them?"

He shook his head again, but if he said anything, I didnít hear it.

"And you, Cal. You lived with me when you were younger than Van. As I recall, you didnít have any chores you had to do then, except when I asked you to clean up after yourself. Am I wrong?"

"No, sir," he muttered.

"And I know it seems like you have to do more work than Bobby and Charlie, but I promise you, when youíre their age and theyíre off at college, yíall will be doing the chauffeuring and supervising, and probably Noah and Barry will be doing a lot of what youíre doing now. Just like Charlie and Bobby used to have to do when Marcus and Corey were around."

"I want you boys to understand," I continued, "that thereís a reason for you to do chores. Do you know anything about communism?"

Daniel shrugged. Caleb mumbled, "A little."

"Okay," I informed them, "The central idea of communism is, Ďfrom each according to their ability, to each according to their need.í Communism doesnít really work as a government; but itís how families operate. In a family, everybody contributes what they can, and everybody has all their needs met. You might not believe it, but the I assign the chores for a reason, not just to make you do something." I paused for a moment, then just had to ask, "Do you believe it?"

They both assured me they did.

"Both of you boys have been being sloppy about your chores for a while, and Iím not just unhappy with it, Iím going to put a stop to it. I know itís Spring and schoolís almost out and you're tired, but thatís really not an acceptable excuse. Both of you say you want to be treated more adult; but, to be treated that way, you have to start acting that way. The only reason you both havenít been spanked for it lately is that Iíve been letting you do extra chores to work off your strikes. Thatís an okay idea, but itís important that you learn to do the work that needs to be done, when it needs to be done. Why?"

Caleb had listened to my lectures often enough that he could have fielded this one in his sleep. "Because we have to learn to be responsible so we can keep a job and stuff."

"Thatís right. If youíre in college or working; nobody's going to hold your hand and ask you to do what youíre supposed to do. Theyíll tell you what to do, and if you donít do it, youíll fail or get fired. Itís my job to make sure that doesnít happen to you by training you how to be responsible now. How youíve been acting lately is irresponsible."

"So, here are the changes weíre going to make." They both became more attentive as I came to the part that was going to affect them most directly. "How long until you leave for camp?"

Caleb started to count it up, but Daniel answered first, "Twelve days."

"Okay, from now until you leave for camp, you wonít be able to work off any strikes. For the last two days of school, Iíll expect you to have your chores as soon as you get home. You can get a snack before you start, but thatís it. At 5pm, or when I see you doing something else, Iíll check to be sure you did everything. Daniel, if somethingís not done, youíll be getting a spanking at bedtime that night. If somethingís not done correctly, youíll be getting a spanking at bedtime."

"Caleb," I said, turning to the other boy, "that goes for you, too. The next strike you get will be your third, so youíll get spanked for it, and for any other strikes you get between now and when you leave for camp. Understand me?"

They both nodded, obviously very unhappy.

"Once schoolís out, I expect you to both do your chores first thing in the morning. Iíll check them, then youíll be through until the next day. Same thing though, if somethingís not done, or not done right, youíll get a spanking at bedtime. If you get two strikes, youíll get to chose between something special at bedtime, or one then and one at bedtime. Iím going to hope neither of you could get more than two strikes in one day."

Both boys were pale and nervous as I went on. They hadnít expected to like this, but it was turning out worse than they thought.

"Since doing your regular chores is so much trouble for you now, I have a great idea of how to make it easier. From now, until you leave for camp, youíre going to be doing some extra chores every day as I need you." Theyíd been pretty good about accepting my pronouncements so far, but groaned with that one. "Donít worry," I assured them, "I wonít be running you ragged every day, but youíll get to do a little something every day, Iím sure. That way, when you get back to your regular chore schedule, it wonít seem so bad."

"Now," they both flinched as I continued, since this whole thing seemed to be getting worse and worse for them, "when you get back from camp, weíre going to go back to the old way. That means three strikes and you get spanked, no working it off, but no waiting for the spanking. If you can go without earning three strikes for a while, to show me that youíre trying to be responsible, then Iíll go back to occasinally letting you work of a strike. Do you understand all that?"

They both nodded.

"If you donít, nowís the time to ask, because I wonít accept that as an excuse later."

They both remained silent, so I took it as done.

"Okay then, Daniel are you ready for bed?"

"I need to brush my teeth."

"Go get that done and Iíll be there in a minute to give you your spanking. Cal, go get a bath and get in bed."

As they headed for the door, I pushed my chair in and was right behind them. I watched Cal cross over and pick up his school book before heading up the stairs, and wondered what he thought of the view of his naked brother going up right in front of him. Was he wondering how red that rear was soon going to be, empathizing with his brother for what could have easily been him, or just glad it wasnít him this time?

I gave Daniel a minute to get in the bathroom, then headed up behind him. The bathroom door was partially open, and I listened to him brushing as I looked at the paddle hanging by his door and the hairbrush on his dresser. The hairbrush was the same style as in all my boys rooms - even Bobbyís, who was too old for it, and Van, who was much too young. It was flat backed, wooden, and very appropriate for applying a good spanking. However, it wasnít the threat to Daniel that it was to the twins or Barry. It was still a step-up from his paddle, but not a major step-up. For that, Iíd use the bath brush or even the belt. I donít like the belt, but Danielís biological father had used it at times, and he has an almost supernatural dread of it. Still, this was more a warning to straighten him (and Caleb) out, so I took the paddle off the wall.

Not that Daniel particularly likes his paddle. Unlike the younger boys, Danielís paddle doesnít have a cute nickname or a cartoon. There were two good reasons for that. First was, at 13, I felt that just having a paddle hanging in his room was Ďlittle kidí enough. Second, while it was of a heavier wood and slightly thicker, his paddle was actually not as wide as the younger boys, which meant that it didnít really have room for anything on the surface. It also meant, much to his disgust, that, along with the larger size of his bottom, it took a lot more spanks to cover the same area.

After another moment, Daniel walked back into his room and looked at me as I stood there, patting the paddle against the palm of my left hand, then sighed. Danielís a good kid. Heís far from perfect and heís a little lazy or irresponsible about doing his chores, but he does admit when heís screwed up and he rarely argues about it when I chose to punish him, except for an expected plea for one more last chance. This time, after the lecture heíd already received, he didnít bother.

After standing there for a minute, just looking at each other, I spoke. "Turn your bed down." He walked over and pushed the bedspread to the foot, then turned the sheet back.

"Are you going to sleep naked tonight?"

His hands seemed to twitch, as if he were suddenly embarrassed at the reminder that he was standing naked in front of his dad, but he only nodded. Iím sure he didnít want to consider putting extra material on what he must have been sure would be blazing cheeks.

"All right then, get the chair."

He stepped over to his desk, pulled the wooden straight-backed, armless chair that I make sure are in all the boyís rooms away from it and turned it so heíd have room to go over my lap. I sat down and he lowered himself into the same position heíd been in so many times over the last 27 or so months.

I let the paddle rest across his cheeks for a second. I thought about saying something, but the honest truth was, Iíd already made my point and there was nothing left to say.

The paddle came up and he tensed slightly before I smacked it back down. With the younger boys, even right up to Ryan and Mickey, who were barely younger than him, I mostly used a three-down pattern: three down the center of the bottom, then four down each cheek, back down the crack again, then a little attention to the sides, before one more trip down the center, than a couple of smacks on each side of each leg. Because Danielís paddle wasnít as wide, and because his bottom was larger, he got a five-down pattern. Because a normal spanking was two patterns, he got more than twice as many spanks as his younger brothers; and, because his paddle was sturdier than theirís, each smack hurt a little worse anyway. Daniel was brave about taking his spankings; but, he knew that, if itís what I wanted, he would be a bawling mess before I let him up.

Daniel always starts his spankings quiet and still, but, as the smacks begin to switch back and forth from cheek to cheek, he starts to jerk a little. As usual, I saw his shoulders tense as he took a firm grasp on the legs of the chair. Then his legs tensed as he pushed down against the floor to keep from kicking and trying to cover his bottom with his feet, like he did when he was younger.

As I move back to the center again and the swats began to trace back down his crack, he began to gasp, then yelp. His flat rear didnít have much side to them, and the three swats that should have landed on his dimple mostly fell on his already spanked cheeks, and thatís when I heard his yelps start to get wet and teary. It was when I traced back and forth, moving down each leg, that he started to really sob.

A normal spanking is two patterns and a hard one can be three; but I was just trying to straighten him out a little bit. A couple of extra hard spanks on each sit spot, and I helped him to his feet. He was still tense for a moment, expecting more spanks, but relaxed as I helped him up.

His hands flew to his bottom, but quickly wrapped around my shoulders as I hugged him to me. After a minute, I broke the hug and walked him to his bed. Carefully, I helped him in. He winced when he had to sit on the edge for a minute, but I knew he couldn't be too sore. Still, I helped him roll over, then pulled the sheet up over him. I started to step away, but his voice stopped me.

"Dad?"

I turned back to him and heíd rolled over enough to hold his arms out to me. I leaned down for another hug, and was a bit surprised when his lips brushed against my cheek. I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and wished him good night.

At the door, I hung the paddle back in place. I had to chuckle as glanced back before turning off the light and saw his hands, busily moving under the covers as he tried to rub the sting out of his freshly burned cheeks.