Promotion by Hamster
It was about 7pm that night, and I was checking on chores. I didn’t have to step far into Van and Bryce’s room to realize the hamster cage had not been cleaned. I’d also just seen Van, cozied down in a beanbag, watching a cartoon, and sketching out one of the characters.
"Van," I informed him quietly, after getting his attention, "you didn’t clean the hamster cage, so you have a strike."
He looked up at me, his nose wrinkled in distaste. "I don’t like cleaning it."
"That’s pretty obvious, buddy, but you do like your hamsters, and they like a clean cage, so it needs to be done." I paused for a moment, and he just looked away, so I added, "Let’s get it done."
"I’m watching TV. I’ll do it in a minute."
Have you ever been absolutely sure how something was going to turn out, but felt like you had to walk through the steps anyway? That’s how I felt as I leaned over to flip the DVD player off.
"No. You should have done it before you started watching TV, so you’ll do it now. If you just go do it, you’ll have plenty of time to finish the cartoon before time to get ready for bed."
Even as I flipped off the TV, Van looked up at me, eyes wide with outrage.
"I was watching that," he informed me heatedly.
"I noticed. And you were ignoring me. This is just your second strike, Van, so let’s not make things worse."
I could see something going on inside his head but wasn’t quite sure what it was. I didn’t want to push him to a wrong decision, so I stood quietly, trying to give him a moment to work things out. Apparently he didn’t work in the right direction because he leaned up, towards the DVD player.
"Ivan James! Do NOT turn that back on."
Whatever his problem was right then apparently didn’t make him suicidal, and he leaned back, glaring at me. I reached down, took the pad and pencil from his hands, then took his arm and helped him up. He didn’t actively resist, but I had to pull him up.
As we walked to his room, he was complaining every step of the way, so I had to explain why he had to clean they hamster cage every time (because they’re his pets) but also has to help with the dogs (because they’re family pets and we all help with them). The explanation (and arguing) continued long past the time it took to reach the cage, and I finally tired of being reasonable.
"You need to start cleaning the cage now, Van," I finally informed him in my ‘this-is-your-last-chance, no-more-warnings-voice’, but he just didn’t want to hear.
We stood there for a minute, and he finally responded, but once again, not in the right way.
"I’ll do it tomorrow."
"No. You’ll do it right now."
"Okay," he said, but stood there with his arms crossed, looking at me, not at the hamster cage.
"Van, is there something wrong?"
The problem I have is this isn’t the first time I’ve been tested like this, and I just don’t understand why a boy would do it. I don’t remember ever doing anything like this. Unfortunately, Van couldn’t explain it any better than I could.
"I don’t wanna do it," he protested in a near wail.
"I know you don’t, but we’ve talked about how there are some things you have to do, even when you don’t want to. If you’ll just do it, it won’t take that long. Do you want me to help you a little?"
"No, you do it."
"No," I replied in a slightly different tone, "you do it. Now, Van," I added after a second’s pause, "or else."
He stood there, and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then gave him a slow ten-count before opening them again. He was still standing there, watching me.
"Okay, Van. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this, but c’mere and let’s get your clothes off."
His eyes went wide, like he’d not understood what was about to happen. "Are you going to spank me?"
"Yes, Van. You’ve been ignoring me, arguing with me, and disobeying me. What did you think was going to happen?"
"Don’t spank me, Daddy. I’ll clean it."
"This isn’t about cleaning the cage anymore, Van. This is about minding—which you haven’t been doing tonight. And you’re not doing it now."
He gave a soft, dry sob but stepped over to me. I knelt down and helped him out of the oversized flannel shirt he liked to wear around the house when it was cool. As soon as he was out of that, he took his undershirt and started to lift it, but then stopped.
"Please, don’t spank me. I’ve only got two strikes."
I pulled him into a hug for a second and explained that it wasn’t about the strikes this time. After a minute, I let him go.
"Do you understand?"
His eyes were wide and damp, but he nodded, then I watched as the hem of his shirt climbed above his belly. There were no more questions or arguments as I removed his lower garments, leaving him standing in just socks and uplifted tee.
"Now raise your hands, buddy."
"Are you going to take off my shirt, too?" he asked, even as his hands reached up.
"Yes, I am," I informed him, matching words to actions.
"How come?" he inquired, as he stood there, naked except for his socks.
"You’ll see," I answered. "For now, you’ve got something else to worry about. Go get Mr. Spanky."
"I don’t wanna spankin’, Daddy. I’m sorry!"
"I know, buddy," I told him, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder, "but it’s not about wanting. It’s about doing what you’re supposed to do and about minding, which you’re not doing now."
The boy gave a soft, dry sob—almost a hiccup—then turned and walked towards the door, where his and his big brother’s paddles hung. By the time he’d reached it and turned, I’d moved to the desk and was sitting in the chair, facing him. He shuddered, just a bit theatrically, then slowly paced back to me.
I let the boys take their time in situations like this. I think it’d be easier on both of us to just get it over with, but I think that sometimes they need a little time to come to grips with what’s going on. That doesn’t keep me from encouraging them if they’re going too slow, but I try to give them a couple of minutes, if they feel the need to walk slowly.
Van finally reached my side, and I took the paddle from him and tucked it under my leg. Without being told, Van turned slightly away from me so I could pick him and drape him across my leg. He’s really getting big enough to do it himself like the older boys do, but he’s not too big for me to do it for him (though it’s not quite as easy as it once was), and it seems to comfort him a little for me to do it, so we still do.
With Van in position, I put my arm across his back and rubbed his bottom with that hand, while surreptitiously easing Mr. Spanky free from under my leg.
"Why are you about to get a spanking, Van?" I asked, wanting to make sure he understood before we got started. I know the boys hate that little bit of talk, and I’m careful not to make it a lecture, but I feel it’s important to be positive we understand each other before I heat their little bottoms.
"Because I didn’t do my chores."
"No, I told you that wasn’t the reason; remember?"
"Oh, yeah. ‘Cause I didn’t mind when you told me and argued with you about it."
The poor guy’s voice was quivering on the edge of tears, so I didn’t delay any longer. I let Mr. Spanky rest briefly on Van’s behind, lining up for the first swat, then got started. Van took the spanking very well, even as his bottom was turning from pink to rosy to a real red. He jerked around and gasped, but wasn’t really making a lot of noise or fighting me.
Mr. Spanky is small enough that I can now use a regular three-down pattern on Van’s rear, tiny as it still is. Three strokes walked down his bottom, with the mid-line of the blade of the paddle centered on his crack, then each cheek got four swats of its own, causing the sting to start building along the center, where the swats overlapped. Back to the center for three more, then a couple to the sides, and a final three down the center, before I moved down to his legs, placing four swats—two on the inner thigh and two more on the outer, to each legs. Then I started over.
I don’t drag my spankings out incredibly, but I do give a second or two between each swat, so the sting from each can be appreciated (or not) on its own. As I started on his Van’s little legs, they were really beginning kick, and he was starting to really, constantly squirm, rather than just jerking a bit in reaction to each swat. By the time Mr. Spanky and I went back to work on his cheeks again, Van had moved past sobbing to real crying.
I kept going though, going through the entire pattern, but working back and forth this time, rather than one area at a time, but even that’s standard. I knew that little bottom must have been tormenting him with the building, burning sting, but he didn’t break. Even as I got back down to his legs, he wasn’t bawling. He howled when I placed three final, rapid fire swats on each sit spot, but still didn’t lose that last little bit of control.
I paused for a second and considered adding a few more. What he’d done wasn’t exactly direct disobedience; it was more willful resistance. A boy needs to learn to control his will, but I didn’t want to break it, so after that long pause, I added one last swat right over the bull’s eye of his little target, then dropped the paddle beside me.
Boys react differently to spankings, but I find it less so with the younger boys. Van was sore and upset and desperately wanted comforting and reassurance. The fact that it came from the same person who’d put him in that position wasn’t a paradox or problem for him.
I don’t quite sit Van in my lap when I’ve just spanked him, though it’s the same basic thing. I let him kneel on my legs, so he can hug my neck. Unlike Barry and Mickey, who’re almost too big to sit in my lap and rest their heads, Van’s a little too small.
At least he was.
With Van kneeling on my legs, his left arm draped across my right shoulder, his head was actually more on my back than my shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice any minor discomfort from that, so I didn’t worry about it. Instead, I started to rub his back with one hand and his bottom with the other. His crying slacked off a little bit as soon as he felt that, and muffled as his thumb sneaked into his mouth for a minute.
I let Van calm himself for a minute, then swung him around so he was really sitting this time, though I was careful to keep his bottom mostly between my legs. He gasped a little as his sore legs came into contact, but quickly settled down and leaned against me. I pulled him into a tight hug for a second, then gave him his marching orders.
"Go ahead and hop to the corner, Van. I’ve got a couple of things I need to check on."
He was reluctant but knew better than to disobey, so made his way to the corner, and obviously kept his hands off his rear, as he stuck his nose against the wall.
Once I was sure he was where he was supposed to be, I went to check on everyone else but did a quick job and was back in less than five minutes.
"That’s good enough, Van. Now you need to clean the cages."
He came over to me for a quick hug, then looked at the cages.
"Would you like some help?"
He looked up at me and just nodded, so we shut the doors, checked the room for cats, evicted Cepo, the Russian Grey cat who moved in with Mickey and Van, from his nest on Van’s bed, then got the little fellows out. Harvey doesn’t seem to like coming out of his cage. Of course, Van’s spent some money on their home, and they do have a pretty nice cage with lots of room to play, two mazes, and not one, not two, but four! exercise wheels. While Heidi, Homer, and Snowball (yeah, I know, but she’s a solid white ball of fluff instead of the typical brown and white), will come right to your hand, we have to chase Harvey down, sealing off tubes as we go before we finally get him to come out, though he’s friendly enough after that.
I don’t think Van even noticed he was naked and his still deep red bottom was glowing into the room as we settled down onto the floor and played with the little guys for a while before I told him we needed to get things done. Each cuddly wad of fuzz was loaded into its own ball and left to roam the room while Van and I got the work done.
I was thinking even while we were working, and I left the room while he was washing pipes in the bathtub. I was only gone a couple of minutes, and he barely noticed it.
Dirty bedding dumped in a trash bag, everything disassembled and washed, bath tub cleaned, twenty minutes spent trying new formations, fresh bedding installed, and food and water dishes replenished, and the little guys were ready to go back home. We tracked down our intrepid explorers (including one in the closet and another under the bed), explained to Homer that walking cat food really shouldn’t nip, and settled the guys down. Van watched them explore for a minute, his red eyes and sore bottom forgotten, then looked up at me.
"Can they have some carrot sticks, Dad?"
"Sure," I replied, after only a second’s thought. "I think there’s a bag in the fridge. But there‘s something we need to talk about first."
"Okay," he said, a bit nervously, and his hands stole behind him to rub his tender seat.
I held my hand out, and he hesitantly took it. I led him back towards the desk—more precisely, to the chair where he’d just been over my lap. Suddenly, the little hand in mine tried to jerk away.
"I don’t wanna ‘nother spankin’, Daddy," he whined miserably.
"I’m not gonna spank you, Van. I said talk, and I meant it, but I need to show you Mr. Spanky. Okay?"
He nodded, still nervous, but trusting me. I sat down on the chair, picked the paddle up from the floor, then picked Van up and sat him on my lap. As soon as he was sure he was right-side-up, he cuddled in against me. I held him for a minute before moving on to business.
"Who’s that over there, Van?" I asked, as I pointed towards the dresser.
His glance followed my finger before answering, "Spanky Bear."
"And what’s he holding?"
"The Bare Cub."
"You’re too big for the Bare Cub, and you don’t really use your spanky bear anymore."
"Huh uh. We keep it there for my little friends, like Scooter and Chase."
"That’s right," I agreed, and, since he wasn’t looking at me, I didn’t even hide the smile at him talking about ‘little friends’. "The thing is, you’ve been growing,"
"I have?" he interrupted.
"Yes, you have. You grew over the summer and you’ve been growing more since then. Remember when I gave you Mr. Spanky because I thought the Bare Cub wasn’t doing a good enough job?"
He nodded, still not quite sure where I was going with this, but I didn’t keep him in suspense. Instead, I reached over and picked up Bryce’s old ‘Apply B4 Corner Time’ and handed it to him.
"I think you’re big enough and tough enough that we need to start using this instead, buddy."
His only complaint was a soft moan before he took the paddle from me. He held it for a minute, then finally leaned back and looked up at me.
"I don’t have to get it now?"
"Nope, if you behave, you never have to get it."
"And it’s because I’m getting bigger and tougher?"
I nodded, trying to match his solemn expression.
He sighed. "Okay."
"Good. Why don’t you put Mr. Spanky into a desk drawer. Dex is as big as you, so we can probably use B4 on him, too, but some of the other guys will probably need Mr. Spanky for a while."
"Okay," he agreed, a little happier at the reminder that he wasn’t the only one getting spanked. "Are you going to start using Mr. Spanky on Scooter?" he asked with just a bit too much enthusiasm. On the other hand, I knew how bad he felt when his little buddies really got spanked, so I didn’t worry about it much.
"I’m not sure. We’ll see how it goes. Now, why don’t you put this up and go get those carrots?"
He took off like a shot, slowing only to hang B4 by the door, not caring that he was flashing the house. Once a spanking is over, he really does manage to put it behind him. I put the lid down, then followed him into the playroom. It was getting time for all the downstairs guys to start at least thinking about settling down, though Van and Bryce still have the earliest bedtimes (and Mickey and Ryan really don’t have one at all), and people had started gravitating to the playroom.
Noah and Barry were playing some video game. Noah was taking his turn, but Barry had noticed the red moon and was looking at me curiously, probably checking to see if it was a random incident or if I was on the warpath. On the other hand, Mickey, who’d apparently been on his way to his bedroom, was giving me a dirty look. I like that he’s protective of his biological brother, but every once in a while, I have to remind him that he’s still just as spankable as Van is, to keep him from getting carried away.
Van came running back with some carrots in his hand before Mickey could get himself into trouble. The fact that the little one was obviously not grumpy probably helped his big brother shrug it off. Turning away from Mickey, I intercepted Van.
"It’s already past time for your bath, so you give those to your buddies, make sure they’re settled, then hop in the tub. Okay?"
"’Kay, Dad," he replied over his shoulder as he hustled into his room.
I gave Van a few extra minutes before going to read his bedtime story. We’re reading the new book in the Fablehaven series and do a chapter every night. Bryce is always there, and now the twins and Barry have joined us. This book just came out this month, and it’s pretty funny when the Ingram order arrives, because I have to pick up eight copies just for the family.
After story time, I tucked Van in, Bryce headed to get his bath, and I retired to the living room to read my own book for a bit.
About twenty minutes later, when I was just about to go tuck Bryce in, he suddenly appeared in front of me.
"Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?" I asked, glancing at my watch.
He nodded. "Van said you gave him B4 tonight," he said instead of answering me.
"I didn’t think you’d mind. Do you want me to make him a different one?"
Again he didn’t answer, not right away. Instead, he climbed into my lap. "No, it’s okay, but I was just thinking.…"
His voice drifted away as he settled in. I had my right arm on the arm of the couch, and he settled with his back there, so I let my arm fall around his shoulders.
"Didn’t you give me the Little Deer when you gave Van Mr. Spanky?"
"Yes, I think I did."
"Are you gonna give me a new one now?" his voice a combination of curiosity and dread.
"Bryce, I moved the twins up to Red when they were your age. I’ve held back with your paddles because you’re not as big as they are. On the other hand, I do have to consider how tough and how mature you are."
He’d cringed when I’d mentioned Red but listened silently. I let the silence linger between us for a moment. "I was thinking about it, but I was probably going to give you one more spanking, like I did Van tonight."
"Can we just get it over with?" he asked in the voice of someone who knew the worst and just wanted to move past it.
"Are you sure?"
He thought for a moment, then nodded, so I thought. He was still reacting pretty well to the Little Deer, but there was another issue at play here. Bryce doesn’t let his size bother him often, but he is sensitive to it. I have to balance his smaller size against his not smaller spirit and brain. I finally decided to promote him, not because I thought he needed the firmer spanking, but because I thought he needed the acknowledgment.
"Okay," I finally answered him. "Let’s go deal with it now."
I gathered him into my arms, leaned forward, and managed to push myself up without doing my back any damage. Then I carried him to the twins’ room. The two of them were already undressed for bed, and wrestling around on Johnny’s.
"Excuse us, guys. We needed to talk to you for a minute."
The two of them separated, looking curious. Bryce just looked confused at the ‘we’ and why we were here.
"Did you guys know Van got a spanking tonight?"
They both nodded nonchalantly. Boys getting spanked in my house is hardly a rare occurrence, after all.
"Did you know that I took Mr. Spanky and promoted him to B4?"
That they didn’t know, but were only slightly wide-eyed.
"Well, Bryce and I just got through talking, and he’s going to get Heat next time he gets spanked."
Now both of the twins winced in sympathy for their little bro.
"The thing is, he’s going to need a copy of Heat to hang in his room. Since I’m doing promotions anyway, I think I’m going to let him take yours. Go get it, Bryce."
Bryce obeyed, turning to walk back to the door. It only took Josh a second to see the implications and his eyes went wide, then a slight moan escaped his lips. Hearing the noise, Johnny turned to face his brother and then it hit him.
"We’re going to get it with Red every time now?"
"I’ve not really used Heat on you boys much, and you’re not that much smaller than Barry. I think it’s time."
"Oh, Dad…. C’mon. Please!"
"Sorry, Johnny, but I think it’s best."
I turned to look towards the door. Bryce was standing there in nothing but his briefs, holding the paddle and looking at the rest of us nervously.
"Take your Little Deer to my office, then hang that up and hop in bed before I decide to test it out tonight."
He jumped and started out the door when I stopped him.
"I’ll be there in a minute to tuck you in. Okay?"
"’Kay," he assured me, before trotting out of the room, so as not to tempt me to demonstrate Heat already.
"You guys ready for bed?" I asked the twins.
Johnny looked like he was ready to keep protesting the elimination of the lighter punishment, though I’d used it only rarely lately. His brother rested a restraining hand on his shoulder. Johnny looked up at him, then turned back to me.
"We’re ready," he replied, obviously not wanting to tempt me. He might have already had many experiences with Red but must have decided it wasn’t worth pushing for a repeat performance.
"Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes to tuck you guys in.’
The rest of the night went quietly. I thought briefly about taking Red from Noah and Barry’s room but decided there wasn’t a reason. Though they don’t get into near as much trouble as Barry, I still use Red on Ryan and Mickey (well, really just on Mickey these days), and it seems to do a good job on all of them. I think this series of promotion will last the twins for a while and will keep Van for a year, and Bryce for probably longer than that. The only question I’m really thinking of now is what to do with Noah if he keeps getting in trouble at this rate. Maybe he’ll be ready for the Spanker pretty soon.
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