Author's Note: This story has many sources of inspiration, but its primary source and background is the weirdly creative imagination of my childhood and youth. Alas, however, my imagination was neither creative nor weird enough to come up with an imaginary Dad as real as the one in this story. While based on some real self-spanking I indulged in as a teenager, this story is ultimately a work of fiction and fantasy. It is not intended to encourage real parents to spank real children. Imaginary parents, on the other hand, have my full support in laying it on hard!

Many kids have imaginary friends. Some have imaginary relatives – a make-believe big brother or sister, a grandparent, or a parent. The imaginary friend or relative is someone who is always there when the child needs him or her, who understands the child, who gives unconditional love. Jason had an imaginary Dad. Yes, it was a bit unusual that, at the age of fourteen, he still had his imaginary Dad. But, having found his perfect Dad when he was seven, Jason had been unable to let him disappear back into the mystical ether. Jason had held onto him passionately, and the man had seemed happy to stay in the boy's life, happy to remain imaginatively real, happy to watch him grow up, and to guide and teach and discipline him as he grew.

Sitting on his bed on a Saturday afternoon, fuming with anger and on the edge of tears, Jason felt the big, strong arm come around his shoulders. Dad had appeared again.

"What's the matter, Buddy?" he asked in his usual gentle, caring, and attentive way.

Jason took a deep breath, struggling to control his emotions, fighting to speak. He felt horribly, terribly out-of-control, and desperate for Dad's strength and steadiness to bring him back under control.

"Come on, Son, you know you always feel better when you tell me what's troubling you," Dad said, kindly but insistently.

"Yes, Sir," Jason sighed. "Well, it's Mom. I was real rude to her. But, Sir, she made me real angry! I just lost my temper!"

Dad rubbed Jason's shoulder. "You know it was wrong to be rude to Mom, Son. It doesn't matter what she did to make you angry. You have to respect and obey her."

"But... I was going to go over to Rick's and watch a movie and sleep over. But she says I have to stay home and look after David, 'cause she's going out with that jerk, Stan. I hate him!" Jason said vehemently.

"Now, Son, settle down," Dad said, squeezing and rubbing the boy's shaking shoulders. "I know you don't like Stan. But he's the man Mom likes, and you have to try to accept that."

"I don't want to accept it! I hate him!" Jason growled.

"Jason, I told you that you need to settle down!" Dad said, taking a firmer tone. "This isn't about Stan! This is about your responsibility to your Mom. You need to do as she tells you. She needs you to stay home tonight and baby-sit your brother. She's not really asking all that much of you. Don't you think you owe her this, considering all she does for you?"

"But... I want to go over to Rick's tonight! It isn't fair that I have to give up my plans for her!" Jason protested.

"That sounds like a pretty selfish attitude to me, young man," Dad said, sharpening his tone even as he kept his strong loving arm around Jason's shoulder.

Jason let out a heavy sigh and the tears flowed. "I don't mean to be selfish," he sobbed. "I just hate having to be... well... responsible... all the time!"

"I know it's hard, Jason. That's why I'm here... to help you... to help you do what's right, even when it's hard. Jason, whether you like it or not, whether you agree with her or not, whether you think it's fair or not, Son, you have to obey Mom. Understood, young man?"

"Yes, Sir," Jason answered. He knew Dad was right. Dad was always right, and he always helped Jason to accept what was right. "I'm sorry I was so rude to Mom. I said some pretty mean stuff."

"An apology to her is in order, isn't it?" Dad asked.

"Yes, Sir, but she's too upset right now. Couldn't I wait a bit?"

"Okay. But be sure you do tell her how sorry you are, and make it clear you're going to obey cheerfully, not in a sulk or half-heartedly. Clear, Son?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Of course, Son, I am still going to have to punish you tonight, for the rudeness and disrespect to Mom. You can't be allowed get away with that."

"Yes, Sir, I know. I know I deserve a licking, Sir," Jason sighed, hanging his head.

Dad leaned in and kissed Jason on the side of his head. Then he was gone. Jason knew he'd be back later, when Jason needed him again. The boy wiped his cheeks, sucked back on his running nose, took a deep cleansing breath, and resolved to do what was right, and to do it with as much good cheer as he could muster. He knew his hard-working, devoted mother deserved that, and didn't deserve to be punished by Jason because she'd made what he believed to be a bad choice in a man. Dad was right.

That evening, Jason gave his mother a sincere and tearful apology for being rude and disrespectful, and endured her sharp rebuke in respectful silence. He spoke only when she asked him to promise he wouldn't give her any further hassles about going out with Stan. "Yes, Ma'am," he said. "I promise."

Two hours later, Jason gave his mother a kiss at the door, wished her an enjoyable date, and tried not to glare at Stan, who as usual seemed irritated just to see him. After his mother had left with Stan, Jason made a genuine effort to be kind to his little brother, playing with him with his cowboy and Indian figures (which he did, in fact, enjoy, even if he was supposed to be too old for such things), and then making popcorn and settling down to watch a movie on TV – not the one he'd have watched with Rick, but one that David wanted to see. Finally, it came time for David to go to bed, and Jason found his kind attentiveness paying off when the younger boy went without protest, and just the slightest delay to have a snack of milk and graham crackers. Jason then settled down to watch TV.

But he knew Dad was waiting for him down in the basement, and that he'd have to go and face him and take his punishment. Jason went upstairs and checked that David was soundly sleeping, pulling his bedroom door closed. Then he went to his own room, opened his closet, crawled to the back, and removed the old belt from its hiding place. It had been in the closet when Mom, Jason, and David had moved into the townhouse, left behind by a previous resident. Jason had found it and had kept it, because it looked like the kind of belt a Dad would use to punish his son. Jason had imagined that it had been used for just this purpose. It was a long, wide brown leather belt, well-worn and supple. The first time he had offered it to Dad, asking him to use it on him, Dad had accepted it and applied it firmly. From that time, it was Dad's belt and was almost always used when Jason required punishment.

Holding the coiled belt, Jason made his way back downstairs as quietly as possible, and descended to the basement. He proceeded through the laundry room and opened the door to the big storage closet. He switched on the light, stepped in, and shut the door behind him. His heart was racing with excited fearful anticipation. He pulled out one of the folding chairs Mom kept in the closet. He uncoiled the belt, doubled it over, and fastened the buckle, readying the belt for use. Then he waited.

Dad was not long in coming. He stood beside Jason and set his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're ready to take your punishment, Son?" Dad asked.

"Yes, Sir," Jason replied, lifting the belt and offering it to Dad. "Here's your belt."

Dad took the belt from Jason, gave the boy's shoulder an affirming squeeze, and said, "You know what you need to do now, Son."

"Yes, Sir," Jason said, stepping up to the chair. "I gotta take down my pants and underwear and bend over." Jason then did what was required of him. He undid the button snap on his jeans, drew down the zipper, and slid the jeans, along with his cotton briefs, down to his knees, baring his adolescent bottom. Then he bent across the back of the chair, reaching down to grab the front legs, lifting and offering his naked buttocks to Dad. Jason's circumcised penis was stiff to its full six inches, as it always was when he stripped down for punishment. Jason could feel it tingling, demanding his attention. But Jason made himself focus on the coming punishment. His erection would have to wait.

"This is for your own good, Son," Dad said, "to help you learn to respect and obey Mom."

"Yes, Sir, I know I deserve it good and hard," Jason offered. He braced himself, resolving to endure his well-deserved punishment with dignity and fortitude.

Dad swung the wide doubled belt and gave Jason's bare bottom a hard lick. Jason gritted his teeth and bore the stinging lash. The pain was sharp and hot and grew more intense as the seconds ticked by. Dad swung the belt again and lashed Jason's proffered buttocks, leaving behind another burning red stripe on the boy's smooth white rear. Jason absorbed it in near silence, letting out only a sound that was half-way between hiss and sigh. Dad laid on a third hot lick, the strip of leather connecting with naked skin making a sharp, loud snapping sound that filled the small room. CRACK! Dad gave Jason's bare bottom cheeks a fourth painful lick, and a fifth, a sixth, a seventh, an eighth, a ninth, and a tenth. He covered the boy's round, full bottom with hot, painful stripes, working from the upper curve that projected out from the small of the boy's back down to the creases where the cheeks met his thighs. He gave him an eleventh lick, a twelfth, a thirteenth, a fourteenth, and a fifteenth. A series of five further strokes across the boy's thighs elicited gasps and made the boy squirm and wriggle. Tears came to his blue eyes.

Jason struggled to bear his punishment bravely, to keep his bare bottom well-presented so that Dad could give him what he deserved. He knew Dad was going to give him a severe licking, one that would leave his buttocks hot, red, swollen, and welted. Each licking he received was harder than the one before. Jason knew that Dad was testing him, pushing him to endure more, to show him how strong and brave he could be. Jason didn't want to let Dad down. He redoubled his effort to remain still and take whatever Dad had decided to give him. The belt continued to fall hard across Jason's buttocks, hips, and thighs. Jason was shaking hard, he was sweating, his heart was pounding. He was letting out pained grunts and gasps. But he kept himself in place, telling himself that he had to take his punishment.

Finally, just when Jason was sure he could endure no more, Dad stopped, stepped back and said, with a deep sigh, "That's enough. You've been punished enough."

Jason pushed himself up from over the chair, stood upright, and reached back to rub and squeeze his burning bottom. In the moments after the last lick had been given, the heat rose in intensity, and a sharp pins-and-needles prickle asserted itself over the fire. Jason groaned and squirmed about.

Dad had laid aside the belt. Now he stepped up to Jason and took him in his arms. Jason threw his arms around Dad and pressed his face against his broad, muscular chest. He bore Dad no ill-will. He knew he'd punished him out of deep love. The licking had been just what Jason had needed. He felt purged, freed of his guilt for having been so hard on Mom. The fire in his behind had created warmth in his heart.

Dad rubbed his back and then slid one of his large, strong hands down and gently rubbed at one of Jason's stinging buttocks. "I'm sorry I had to do that, Son. I know it hurt you a lot. But you had to learn your lesson," Dad said.

"I know, Dad. I know I deserved it," Jason offered.

"I love you, Son," Dad offered.

"I love you too, Dad. I love you so much!" Jason replied.

"You're my good, brave boy, Jason. I'm proud of you for the way you faced up to your wrong and took your punishment," Dad said, continuing to rub Jason's back and bottom. "You took it like a man, Jason."

Jason hugged Dad firmly, not wanting to let him go. He wanted this good feeling to last forever. But he knew it couldn't. He knew that Dad would soon have to go again, and that he would only be able to grasp the memory of this experience, holding it firmly for as long as his bottom still hurt.

"I have to go now, Son. You be sure to make yourself feel better after I've gone. Remember what I told you. It's good and natural. Don't be ashamed of it," Dad said.

"Yes, Dad," Jason replied, feeling himself blush a little.

Then, Dad was gone again. Jason sighed sadly. He pulled his underpants and jeans back up. He put the chair back. He collected the belt, unbuckled it, and coiled it up again. As he did this, touching the instrument of his punishment, he felt his penis begin to swell again. He stepped out of the storage closet and made his way to the half-bath next to the carpeted area David used for play (the cowboys and Indians were still scattered about there). In the bathroom, with the door locked, Jason stripped out of his clothes. Then, holding his erection, he examined his well-whipped backside in the mirror, admiring Dad's accomplishment, rubbing the now warm skin. The sting had faded now to a warm, not uncomfortable feeling. As he stroked his stiff dick, Jason replayed a memory movie of his licking, remembering what he and Dad had said, remembering what it had felt like to slip down his jeans and underpants and bend over the chair, submitting to Dad. He replayed the feeling of dread anticipation as he waited for Dad to apply the first lick. He recalled the sound of the belt cutting through the air and connecting with his naked skin. He meditated on what it had felt like. Slowly, lingering over the remembered sensations, and the present pleasant stinging warmth, Jason gave himself pleasure, the comforting touch he knew Dad wanted him to give himself. He knew how to take his time, how to prolong the exquisite sensation, how to build up to the climax. Then, when he could restrain himself no longer, he set to rapid, vigorous, enthusiastic stroking. Then the jolt of pleasure coursed through him, he groaned, and a powerful orgasm exploded.

Having taken his pleasure as reward for his pain, Jason cleaned himself up, got dressed, and took the belt back to its hiding place. As he set it aside, he knew Dad would be back, and would use it on him again. He knew he would try very hard not to trouble Mom again; he didn't want to disappoint Dad by failing to have learned his lesson. But he knew he would make other mistakes, and would need Dad's firm and loving correction. Perhaps, he thought, Dad just needs to come around once in a while and check my attitude. Jason smiled.