A BOY LEARNS RESPECT My father left my mom with two boys to raise when I was ten and my little brother was 9. Mom did her best to raise us right, but I guess we were a handful. When I was turning 13, she lost a job and her brother, my uncle Peter, took us in for a few months. I'll never forget one night a few days after we arrived at his big house to take up our stay there. His own kids, also both boys, were older; one in college and one a senior in high school. I guess I'd always been aware that Uncle Pete was pretty strict with his sons. We'd never been all that close, but I could remember times when he was very stern with them, especially the younger one, Rob, and I recall at least one time when they visited us when he took Rob out to their car and spanked him. I hadn't been spanked since before my Dad left, and it didn't really even occur to me as something that might happen to me if I wasn't careful around Uncle Pete. Well, that evening I guess I was being pretty mouthy to my Mom, talking back and not being very cooperative about helping her get things settled in in the guest apartment over the garage where Uncle Pete was putting us up. We all had dinner together, and I don't even remember the details, but I must have been real bratty and backtalking -- it was hardly unusual for me at the time. Uncle Pete gave me real cold looks a couple of times during dinner, but he didn't say anything. I ate quickly and wanted to get up from the table before anyone else. I started to just get up, and my Mom said, "Mike, aren't you going to stay for dessert?" "Aw, mom," I said, "I wanna see what's on TV.. I'll have it in there." Uncle Pete looked at me with this mean, angry stare. "Michael, in this house, you will ask to be excused from the table. And your mother does not wish for you to be excused, so you will wait patiently while the rest of us enjoy our meal. Do you understand me?" "Uhh.. yeah, sure, Uncle Pete, whatever you say.." "And I will see you after supper, young man. We have a few things to get straight now that you are living here with us." My mom looked embarrassed at this. I didn't know what to think or say... he was so earnest and not too kindly. "Yeah, sure, Uncle Pete..." The rest of the meal was like a session in the library. Rose, my uncle's wife, was obviously uncomfortable. She tried to speak to Uncle Pete in a low voice at one point, but he fairly snapped at her, "just leave this to me, will you!" My cousin Rob looked at me with this malicious smile and surreptitiously managed to mutter so only I could hear, "you're gonna get it big time, Mikey, I can tell, believe me." I wasn't quite sure what he meant, but I had an inkling it would not be pleasant and might be painful as well as embarrassing. Finally dinner ended and the table was cleared. I even helped. But Uncle Pete was intent. He came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "I'll see you in my study now, young man. We have to come to an understanding." He turned and walked towards the study. I hesitated, but he looked back and said, "get down here now, son. It won't be any easier if you drag it out." I walked slowly down to his study, and entered through the open door. He was already seated on the sofa. He patted the seat next to him, and said, "come in here. We're going to have a talk about respect, obedience, helpfulness, and attitude. These are areas where I have observed you need work if you're going to be living in out house." "Uh, OK, sure.." "First, you will address me as 'Uncle Pete,' or 'sir.' I am your uncle and you are a child. This is the proper way for you to speak to me, or to your Aunt Rose, or to your mother. If you do not, you will be punished. Am I clear?" "Uhh... yes... sir." "That's better. Now, you have a very bad habit of talking back to adults and arguing when you are asked to perform simple chores. This I will not tolerate, and you have already gone beyond any reasonable bounds of acceptable behavior. When you are told to do something by one of the adults of this house, you will answer respectfully, and you will do it without argument. I am going to spank you in order to make this point very, very clear." "S..spank me!?" I blurted. "Gee, uncle Pete, you don't hafta do that.. I'll be good... I promise I will." "I know you will, because I'm going to spank you so hard you will remember this lesson very well. I accept your promise. But you are going to be punished for what you've already done. It's important for you to learn from very definite experience that this is serious, and you WILL change your behavior. Now, get over here and drop your pants." He slapped his lap, indicating I was to go over his knee. I was still sort of shocked. But I stood up and walked closer to him. "Shirt off." I tool off my shirt and slowly undid my belt and fly, pulled down my pants, and stood facing him with my pants down at my knees and with my underwear still on. I hoped he wouldn't make me pull them down too, I was already so humiliated I was blushing bright red. His eyes met mine, and there was the slightest nod. I lay across his lap, with my briefs still on, and my pants down at my knees. I could feel the warmth of his body through the briefs, and felt a little involuntary stirring of my cock. "Michael, before we start, I want you to understand something. I am NOT going to go easy on you. You have been getting away with being a complete brat for a long time. I know it's hard for your mother, but you are in need of some serious discipline, and I intend to make sure you get it, starting RIGHT NOW." And SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP! he started spanking me on my underpants. The slaps were hard, and came steadily, with his hand cupped and holding onto my butt a second after each slap. After just four or five I was feeling a forceful sting with each slap and I squirmed and moaned. He kept on... SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP! After twenty or so, I squirmed and howled, "OK, Uncle Pete! I'll be good, I promise! OWW! OWW!" SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP! "Yes, you will, and you will also take your spanking tonight like a man. We've just gotten started." With that, he yanked my underpants away from my butt and redoubled the spanking a little harder. He covered my whole ass with his ample hand, and showed no hesitation to slap hard, even at the base of my butt, where the curve of the buttocks meets the leg. He seemed to relish glancing a series of slaps off that area before moving to the crown of my ass for a few good hard on smacks. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP! On and on, he spanked and spanked as I squirmed and howled "OWW! OWWW! OWWW!" loud and for real. I had never been spanked so hard in my life! My face contorted with the unrelenting spanking, and my butt was glowing bright red, but he showed no sign of letting up. I had no idea how many slaps he had already given me, squirming and howling the whole time, but it must have been more than a hundred. All of a sudden, he sped up and gave me 20 or so very hard slaps, very fast. I almost screamed with the shock and sharp pain. Then he stopped. "Whew!" I thought, "finally over!" -- but no. "OK, Mike, now you know what's in store for you if you talk back and act like a brat. You will be taken over my knee like the naughty child you are and thoroughly spanked. And don't think I won't do it each and every time you need it. But now, you must learn what happens to wilfully disobedient young men. You are going to learn to cooperate in this house and to obey your mother and myself. Stand up." "But, Uncle Pete, sir, I've learned my lesson! I promise to do as I'm told! I've had enough! Please!" I was truly desperate -- I didn't think I could take any more spanking! "Yes, you have learned that lesson. I note you are speaking to me with proper respect. Keep that up. And I accept your promise to cooperate and do what you are told to do. But you have yet to be punished for your past misbehavior, and that it the only way, believe me, I know, to impress on a young man how serious this is. Now get over here, you are going to get the paddle, and you WILL LEARN obedience and cooperation." I walked towards the desk. I still had my pants pulled down, so I had to sort of waddle. He reached in his drawer and pulled out a wooden paddle, about half an inch thick, made of laminated wood, with a non-skid handle, and about 9 inches by five, with an oval paddle. He put a pillow on the edge of the desk and made my stand right up against the desk, bent over and gripping the far end. He touched the paddle to my already flaming butt. "I told you I was not going to go easy on you, and I meant it. You've been overdue for this for a long time, and you're getting it now." SWAT! .. I guess it wasn't really all that hard, but coming after the hardest spanking I'd ever had, it seemed like someone had taken a torch to my butt. SWAT! .....SWAT! There was a period of several seconds between each swat. I howled with each swat and whimpered in between. I couldn't believe how much it hurt, but he just kept on, swat after swat. No counting, no sign of how long this would go on, but I was sure I couldn't take much of it. Uncle Pete had other ideas. I now realize he wasn't giving me full-force swats at arms length, though at the time they hurt so bad it was hard for me to imagine anything harder. He was basically spanking me with the paddle, slowly, pretty hard, and standing up, but it was a barebutt spanking, not a few swats like you'd get in school. An he had no intention of cutting it short. After 20, I was fairly dancing in a desperate attempt to avoid the sting of my uncle's vicious little paddle. He put his hand squarely and firmly on the small of my back to anchor me and kept paddling my butt SWAT!.....SWAT!.....SWAT! on and on! "I want you... SWAT!... to understand SWAT!... you will get the paddle... SWAT! SWAT!... each and every time you disobey an adult in this house. SWAT! SWAT! You will learn to cooperate without argument if I have to paddle your butt every damn day. Do you understand me, Michael?" SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! "OWWW! OHHH! Yes, sir! OWWWW! I'll be good... OHHHH! OH, please stop!" SWAT! SWAT! He said nothing, just kept ON! I squirmed mightily and cried and whimpered and yelled, but he just kept on with these unrelenting swats. My butt was an inferno and each swat brought tears and an involuntary jerk of my whole body, but he kept on spanking. Finally, he pushed a little harder on the small of my back, and again sped up the spanking, giving me twenty or so hard swats very fast. "AAAAANNH!" I wailed ... it hurt so bad! "That will do for now... if you keep your promise to cooperate cheerfully, and obey your mother, your Aunt and me, you won't have to get the paddle again, so remember that. Now stay put, I'll apply some alcohol to your butt to prevent an infection." "Alcohol?" I thought, as I rubbed my torn-up butt, still flaming hot and SO sore I could hardly believe it. But what that meant I didn't fully realize till I felt the wetness of his hand on my left cheek, then Zow! the stinging of the alcohol was like 20 more swats all at once! I knew he did this on purpose. Oh God! It stung! He applied it to the other cheek, then more to both sides. I kicked and wiggled and cried out it stung so bad. "Calm down, Michael, this is necessary to make sure you don't have any infections. Now stop squirming." I was still bent over, my fiery red ass exposed. He put his hand back on my back and SLAP! he spanked me with his hand again! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!! He gave me about ten VERY hard slaps, which I didn't expect at all. "That's for good measure, young man. You have to remember that whenever you screw up, talk back, or disobey, you WILL BE SPANKED. Now put your clothes on and go to your room and stay there till bedtime. And I will be checking on you... if you come out, except to go to the bathroom, you'll get another spanking and I don't think you want that after what you've just had, do you?" "Oh, no, sir," I said, and trundled off to nurse my beaten ass. I didn't find myself hating him for beating me so hard; maybe on some level I knew I needed it. And I really did try to do what he wanted and avoid getting paddled and spanked the rest of the four months we lived there. My mom looked at me funny the next day, but I never mentioned Uncle Pete's spanking me, and nothing was ever said. If she didn't want her brother laying into her son like that, she didn't say. And I did get paddled just as hard several times more by my Uncle, who had a justified reputation as a strict disciplinarian, as I found out when he spanked his own sons, one of whom was 21, and me, all at the same time...but that's another story for another time.