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Part 1

by Bud Johnson

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 12 Jul 2016

Friends (The Wake)

Fred is the son of a 1930s Irish-German foundry worker. When he grew up in the 1940s and 1950s his father, a very strict orthodox catholic man, dished out regular corporal punishments (usually the Razor Strop) to him and his seven brothers and sisters. He mentioned this in passing to his friends at a Christmas party in 2012. The football sized Kaleb overheard the conversation. His anecdote type ears perked right up at the mere mention of a strapping.

Nearing 40 years old now, Kaleb had never talked to any other people about his clandestine excitement with corporal punishment. But after that 2012 party, he always had a peaked interest when ever Fred came around. They had mutual friends. Fred is in good shape at around 70 years of age these days. He lifts weights and rides his bike frequently. Kaleb is just a casual friend. One day at the funeral of a mutual friend, he gets up the nerve to say something to Fred.

So Fred, I can’t help my curiosity about you and your Dad. I overheard you talking about it at the Christmas party awhile back. You are such an honest and responsible man. Do you feel it was because of your Dad’s treatment? Kaleb asked with a subtle shine in his eyes.

Fred said, In part I suppose. But when you lived with that threat everyday, it is overwhelming. Fred looked at Kaleb curiously. I take it that you never got spanked growing up.

Kaleb said, Oh, a few times but nothing like getting a razor strap like you did from your Dad. Mom spanked us when we were little.

It’s a strop you know. Fred said with a sharp melancholy tone.

W-what? Kaleb stuttered.

The strap was a double back Razor Strop. Very sturdy and painful. You’d not likely to forget getting your bare bottom whipped with that! Fred now seamed engaged with the conversation.

Fred began talking about just how strict his father had become after the Second World War, so he was told. He seemed excited. He moved closer to where Kaleb was standing, and the two men talked for quite a while. Fred shifted back to regular conversation of the loss of the mutual friend for a time. Then, an unexpected question came almost out of no where.

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like? Fred loutishly asked discretely.

A rushing grade of energy ran right through Kaleb. It caused an imbalance. Fred noticed. Kaleb knew that Fred had asked and he wanted to just blather it out. Just how he had always wanted to know what it was like and how he wants Fred to show him. But he didn’t. Instead, he played coy.

Um, err, I wondered what..., or how would it feel?

Fred eyed Kaleb keenly. In almost a whisper, he said, You know what I’m talking about...Son.

Kaleb felt his body jerk. Wow, it’s too incredible! Has Fred picked up on just what he really wanted? Kaleb got weak in the knees. He looked around at the floor avoiding eye contact with Fred. But he also relaxed and started to realize fully what was going on. After a subtle, awkward pause, Kaleb quietly blurted out, Yes. Okay. Where should we go?

Fred put his arm across Kaleb’s shoulder. He has a son his age. He felt a connection. Why don’t you come by the house after the wake? But I have to warn you. I won’t fool around. It really will hurt – might even bruise some. The seventy year old fit man asserted.

Kaleb thinks to himself about how he is almost 40 years old. If he does follow through with this now, he never will. He put his arm across his thoughtful friends shoulder in solidarity with him and walks with Fred over by the casket of their dead friend.

Kaleb says to Fred under his breath. Jack (the dead mutual friend) would understand.

The two men talk with the other mourners.

Later that afternoon Kaleb arrives at Fred’s house. He feels like a naughty 14 year old that will be facing his father after being caught doing something bad at school. It is a rational fantasy. He also feels kind of stupid, excited, aroused, and also terrified!

Fred answers the door dressed conservatively as he naturally would be. The two men exchange brief salutations. Kaleb walks from the door in the direction of Fred’s living room.

Fred teases, My Dad used to whip us in the living room at home. It was more embarrassing. Everybody in the house would still be up and moving around. With 7 kids around the house, it was always a busy house. Fred cleared his throat and focused the conversation.

Dad made sure everyone would hear what you did and why you were going to get it good. And you’d be howling soon like a properly repentant bad boy. Fred chuckles. He was prepping him.

Fred talked about loving to see it when his one older brother used to get it. His brother used to harass everybody. Kaleb just listened attentively. He mentioned how different he thought life was in the 1940s and 1950s when spankings were common place in comparison to the 1990s when he was a teenager. In the 2010s, corporal punishment still happens in families though these days. 9-11 changed everything. They both agreed.

As if he was talking to his bad teenage son, Fred unbuckled his wide, heavy belt and began to give Kaleb some directions. I don’t own a razor strop but this Wide Garrison should do the trick. Stand in front of the arm of my couch and drop you pants. Make believe that you are my 14 year old kid that was caught skipping school. You’ll bend over and get a whipping for that.

Fred watched as Kaleb places himself, unbuckling his pants. But he freezes up.

I’m not sure if I can do this... Kaleb spoke nervously.

Oh nonsense! It won’t kill you. Let’s get on with this. Fred said matter-of-factly. His tone was sterner – deep sounding, and purposeful. He wasn’t playing around just like he had said. Fred also had enough experience to realize that the guy would need and want some firm direction to make this believable. Kaleb was a little freaked out but also excited at the challenge. His own father never would have done anything like this when he was growing up. If he backs out now, he will never know.

He pulls his pants down very slightly. It is getting to him. Kaleb’s breathing has become a bit erratic; like a kid just before a rollercoaster ride. But this was no rollercoaster.

Fred moves directly behind him. Kaleb was too frightened to look but he felt the man grab his pants and underwear by the waist and yank them below ass, baring his bottom.

Kaleb heard a snap and the words, Now, bend over.

Kaleb bends over the arm of the couch. He had heard the sound of Fred’s wide double belt connecting together as Fred readied it for use. Next, a quick rush of air caresses his now bare bottom. It starts moderately.

Whack! Whack! Crack! Crack! Smak!)))

But then Fred really let loose. Kaleb moans loud now and hollered.

Crack! Smak! Whack! Whipth! Whipth! Whipth!!!)))

This is what it was like at my house for rotten smart-mouth teenagers when I was young!

Crak!!! Crak! Wh-Whipth!!!)))

Then, a final Whoosh!!!)))

The whipping was over. Kaleb had howled throughout. But he had taken it! He survived.

Would they meet again?

<end P1>

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