I want to apologize readers that I have not blogged in a loooooong time. I have had to deal with several things on the home front and at leather events. I promise to pay better attention going forward. A reader asked me about the last time I was spanked by my father. It is a story that people seem to enjoy so I will tell it here. Here it is cielospxxx!
Between graduating from high school and beginning college, I joined the Marine Corps Reserve, turned eighteen, and attended boot camp. I left for boot camp two days after graduating. While in boot camp, I met another guy that was going to be at Texas A&M in the fall. We became good friends. After becoming Marines, we had a week off before we had to report to the Corps of Cadets in College Station. Kelly was from Illinois and really had no place to stay until campus opened. I offered to put him up at my parents’ home and then drive down to campus together.
I brought Kelly to meet my parents and we did all the down homey type things that can be done. When Saturday rolled around, I asked my father for permission to borrow his pickup and visit some of the bars in the next county where alcohol was legal. My father had no problem with us doing it and even slipped me a few dollars. Kelly and I visited three of the bars and had a great time. We were full of piss and vinegar and on the prowl. With our high-and-tight haircuts and post boot camp bodies, we were very popular with the ladies. At this time in my life, fucking and sucking with guys happened far away from home. Most of the time I “passed” as a straight man. After a wild night we headed home. I stopped by the gas station down the street from my parents’ house and filled up my father’s tank. I parked the truck in my father’s parking spot and went upstairs and slept in my old bedroom.
I woke up to my bedroom door slamming in to the wall next to my head. “Get you ass out to the truck! NOW!” yelled my father. Kelly and I both bolted out of the bed and ran downstairs and out to my father’s truck in our boxers. We both stared at the truck and tried to figure out what was going on. It was parked in his spot. The windows were rolled up. I climbed in from the passenger’s side and checked the gas gauge and found it full. I was dumbfounded. I crawled out on the driver’s side and closed the door. That was the moment that I almost died from shock. Starting at the headlight and continuing down the length of the driver’s side of the truck were scratches in the maroon paint. I called Kelly over to look at the scratches. The only thing I could think that might cause the scratches was the brick wall at the bar called Firewalker. I must have parked too close.
All of the sudden, my father walked out of the garage carrying his heavy razor strap. I had only been spanked with that strap twice before in my life. It was brutal.
“Both of you get your asses over here” yelled my father. We both ran to the tailgate and unconsciously lined up beside each other. My father started telling us how much we had dishonored our parents, the Marine Corps, and ourselves. He told us how disappointed he was in both of us. It was not long before tears were running down both our faces. After his lecture, my father told me to bend over the tailgate of the truck. I quickly bent over, hoping that would lessen what was coming. The first lick landed mid-thigh and I screamed in pain. “Boy, that is the only skin I can see,” growled my father. I quickly yanked my boxers to my ankles and bent back over the tailgate. My father then gave me the second worse spanking he ever gave me. As each lick would land, I would yell in pain. My butt felt like skin was being shredded. I knew better than to stand so I screamed and yelled and kicked but stayed in place. I began crying after the second lick. I have no idea how many licks I was given; Kelly later told me that the total was 250. Honestly, I had learned my lesson after the first five licks. My father was a very fast spanker. I never had any time to process the pain. Each lick just multiplied the pain I was feeling. Suddenly, my father told me to stand up. I learned as a child to never pull my pants or underwear up until my father told me to or he left the room. I stood next to Kelly bare-assed naked except for the boxers around my ankles. My father looked at us both and shook his head. He quietly said, “Fix it” and walked into the garage. All of the sudden I realized that our neighbors on both sides of the house and across the street were loading into their cars to head to church. I quickly yanked up my boxers and turned to Kelly. He was white as a sheet. I asked him what was wrong. He told me that he had never been spanked before and that he was scared to death that my father was going to do the same to him. Suddenly my cock started to harden. I told him that we need to get dressed and we did.
What have I learned from this experience? I know that the few men that I am submissive to all resemble my father in body type or manner. I know that for me to get into a submissive headspace, I need an intense experience. I know also that although I quickly forget that other people are around when the pain comes, I am definitely an exhibitionist. Hope you enjoyed my pain. Occasionally, I still do.
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