A Boy And His Dad

by Cal <100622.2517@CompuServe.com>

His day had been bad enough at high school, but it had quickly turned even worse when he returned home frustrated and seething with anger about the way his so-called "friends" had changed plans without even telling him. It only took a few choice expressions while he tossed his book bag down on the couch.

Dad was in the next room.

But, now, it was all flowing away. The guilt, the anger, the fear, the pain. All flowing away in tears glistening like ribbons down his handsome, if sharp, soft, crumpled face.

He was 18, good looking. No he was handsome. _d_a_m_n_ed good body. He was popular at high school and never lacked for options or dates.

But none of that mattered here. His Dad held him close now. This had been firm rebuke of his moodiness and words but no rejection of him as his boy. Chastisement for sure but no denial. He had simply surprised him, then told him to go back to his bedroom and had walked right behind him to make sure he did exactly that. Dad had told him to take off all his cloths, everything, and fold them on his bed and he knew what that meant! But Dad had stood there watching his every move to make sure he did exactly that. Dad's arms were crossed as he watched him strip down completely naked. But only after he was completely naked and edgy with shame to be seen standing on display like that did Dad take him into his arms and hugged him. No words were spoken. None needed to be.

Dad took hold of him and his naked body went over Dad's lap where it needed to be. Dad had spanked him. His Dad couldn't have cared less that he was 18 now or how embarrassed he felt to be naked over Dad's lap again with his bare ass up over his lap getting spanked.

Dad's fingers had at first only buffed his bare bottom but his nicely long _c_o_c_k_ was on Dad's thigh and reacted. When Dad wanted to discipline and correct him he had always spanked him this way. He treated him like a fourteen year old, but never mind, Dad had always been consistent with discipline. Tonight Dad had done it again and spanked his bare bottom hard and long. Dad's hand was all over his boy's ass as it always had been every time he had decided to discipline him.

And because of it, the boy's embarrassment and displeasure over his own earlier rude remarks that were meant to be private, now flowed into acceptance as naturally and easily as the tears coursed down his cheeks onto the soft nest of Dad's chest.

The boy struggled, in little gulps, to get a hold of his emotions, to master the feelings that shook his smaller frame.

At that moment all his senses were heightened. His ass what hot and painful to be sure. He felt Dad's warm, sweet breath ripple the silken hair that crowned his head. Dad wore no after shave, but smelt cleanly of Irish Springs soap. But the boy's whole face buzzed fiercely from the sea of tears the smacking had released, and inside his young body was an unfamiliar warmth still growing.

His sobs came less often now. It seemed impossible that his smaller body could contain any more tears. But still they flowed, quietly, wetting the front of his Dad's chest. Dad held him tightly. His one hand stayed on his bare bottom but now just caressing it softly and providing him comfort. He liked Dad's hand this way there, especially after Dad had just spanked him. His skin tingled from the touch of Dad's hand, but that hand that had brought him so much discomfort and pain when it was spanking him a moment ago, now felt good on his ass. He wanted his Dad to keep it there but would never dare to say so.

The boy felt something pressed into his hand. A large square of cotton, for a blue boy. Dad put the handkerchief to his eyes and dabbed his boy while his free arm curled round the contours of his naked shoulders and then on to his very red, bare bottom. Dad held him even closer now.

After a while he felt a firm finger under his chin. He had avoided his Dad's gaze but now Dad forced him to open his watery blue eyes and look at him. "Are you sorry?" Dad's grip was gentle enough to allow him to nod his head. "Good boy. Your spanking is over now." He spoke quietly - all the earlier steel had left his voice.

Dad allowed him to bury his face once more in the sanctuary of his chest, as he hugged him in thanks.

Like this Dad's hands on his whole body were all, well, calming, soothing, and surrounding him with the love the boy needed to feel after his spanking.

The boy's tears stopped, and his breathing slowed. Worn out by his crying, he went limp in his Dad's arms and his eyelids gently kissed together as the distant music downstairs led him gently into a land of dreams where boys were always good and trips across Dad's knee unheard of.

Dad moved a bit and let his boy's head touch the pillow. Tonight he'd been spanked just like he had always been for so many of his short 18 years. He slept on his stomach but in Dad's bed. He liked it that Dad always allowed him to be himself. But, he also knew there would be still more spankings over Dad's lap in the coming years.

Never mind, he felt fine! He was home.

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