Dan and Joe
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: 03 Jan 2018
Dan and Joe – Curfews Broken
As we have come to know our various boys we have a good idea of which ones are most likely to find themselves upended over a parental lap with good cause. Mr. Bailey does a fine job of giving all four of these boys the spankings they need, which often are also spankings they deserve. It is more likely, of course, that their fathers will supply the deserved and earned punishment spankings.
So, to find Joe and/or Dan over the lap of one of the two dads is not really surprising. Those two seem to find ways to get into mischief. Nothing truly bad, but definitely what could be termed rambunctious, maybe even a bit unruly, and by the age of seventeen or eighteen boys should know better. Which means that time over the lap is needed. What with spankings from their fathers, Mr. Bailey, and their friends, Joe and Dan have come to have a strong acquaintance with the view of the floor combined with the pain of bottoms being spanked.
It is quite another matter with Frank and Tony, well-behaved boys who rarely are out of line. Yet they, too, have had some time over the parental lap, their father administering spankings that were intended to be, and succeeded in being, memorable. Their father was not likely to spank for minor offences but did have certain expectations that he wanted met and if they were not bare bottoms became red and hot. Curfew was one such expectation that was at the top of the list. Joe and Dan’s parents were a bit more casual about how late their boys stayed out on weekends, but that did not mean that they could get home any time they wanted.
By now it is clear that this is a story of curfews missed. Dan, Joe, and Tony had been invited by friends from school to a party on a Saturday night. The parents of the boys giving the party were home. They were trusted by other parents, so there was little concern about safety. It was a sizable group, perhaps larger than really suited the home, but as long as things didn’t get out of hand, the hosting parents were fine.
What did happen, though, is that the revelers lost track of time. Our boys had been given special permission to stay out until midnight, but not a minute later. All three fathers were quite clear and firm on this. At one o’clock one of the kids noticed the time. The faces of all the guests fell – midnight was the curfew for everyone there. Tony remembered well the last time he missed a curfew and had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Joe and Dan, in their cockiness, were sure they could talk their way out of it. They could not.
The three boys called an Uber and were home quickly. Tony knew his father would still be awake and be quite angry. Sure enough, Dad was sitting at the kitchen table.
Dad, I’m sorry! Everyone lost track of time, Tony said. Dad knew his son was sincere in this,
but rules are rules.
Anthony, if you want to be treated like an adult you have to take some responsibility. I gave
you a reasonable time to be home and there is no reason I should expect you not to honor it. Get up to
bed and we will deal with this tomorrow.
Things were no different at his friends’ homes. Lights were on in both kitchens, so the boys knew there was no sneaking in to one house or the other. Each went to his own home to be greeted by an angry father, in each case a father also holding the particular boy’s paddle in his hand. Two faces went white. Each boy tried the same apology that Tony had used only to receive a lecture quite similar to the one Tony heard. Both were sent up to their rooms after being handed his paddle to take with him and the dire promise that the infraction would be dealt with tomorrow. Needless to say, three boys stayed awake for some time, nervous about the next day’s events. Tony tried fondling himself but even that brought no reaction or relief.
No one slept late, nerves again impeding sleep. In all three houses smells of breakfast made their
way upstairs. Tony pulled on sweats and a top and went downstairs. His parents were at the table, Mom
dressed for church, Dad more casually. Likely Dad did not have church plans. Breakfast was silent. Mom
gave Tony a look which combined disapproval with pity. She did not care for spankings but knew that sometimes
they were necessary and that this was just such a time. Tony didn’t eat much, which is no surprise. As
he got up to clean his place his father said
go up to your room and don’t come out until I give you
permission. No computer and no cell phone!
Yes, sir, Tony mumbled. He put his dishes in the dishwasher and went to his room. Lying on
his bed he hoped against hope that both parents would go to church, but he knew it was only Mom. Maybe
it was better to get the spanking done sooner than later and avoid being embarrassed by having Mom there
when he was spanked.
At the homes of Dan and Joe the scenario was much the same. Both boys woke to the smells of breakfast. They, too, pulled on sweats and a top, not their usual behavior. This was not a usual day. One difference is that neither mother showed any sign of pity, just looks of stern disapproval. All four parents were becoming a bit tired of some of their sons’ behavior. The boys had already been spanked recently for repeated detentions. Maybe this spanking would get through to them. As had Tony, both boys were ordered to their rooms to stay until further notice, with the added instruction that their paddles should be at hand.
So, now we have three eighteen-year-old boys waiting to face the music, as the saying goes. Joe’s and Dan’s parents were not church goers, so there was no question that mothers could be around to hear all. Unlike Tony, these guys were spanked often enough that this was of no real concern.
The first chastisement went to Tony. He lay on his bed waiting to hear the car leave, hoping Dad was in it, too. When he did hear the car leave it only made him more nervous, with good reason. About five minutes later he heard Dad’s footsteps on the stairs. Dad came in without knocking. Tony stood up, unsure what was expected of him.
Son, I know you did not intentionally stay out late, but that is not the point. You need to be
responsible and that includes being aware of the time when you are out. This should not be difficult.
You know that curfew is very important. Your mother and I want to know that you’re safe. If you’re not
home on time, naturally we worry. I have no choice but to give you a reminder of your responsibilities.
Dad walked over to his son and took the boy’s top off him, like a little boy being undressed for bed.
With that he sat on the chair and beckoned Tony to him. Tony stood in front of his father, knowing the
routine better than he cared to. Dad hooked his fingers into the boy’s sweats and brought them down, unsurprised
that his son was not wearing briefs. Tony stepped out of the pants and was naked, ready for his spanking.
With no more ceremony he was pulled over his father’s lap and a hand spanking began. Dad did not build
up, the first swats were serious! SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK. Tony was yelling almost immediately,
a combination of the pain and the surprise at the opening severity. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK. Dad
was relentless. His son deserved it.
This hurt! Tony felt close to tears faster than he had from any spanking. He accepted that he’d be
paddled to tears, but to cry before the paddling was humiliating. He held tight to the chair legs, using
every effort he could muster not to give way to tears. Dad read the body language correctly and stopped
in time. A short pause to let Tony get his breath followed by Dad saying
get up and bring the paddle.
Tony stood, desperately wanting to rub his butt and more so not wanting to retrieve the paddle. He had
no choice. He took down the paddle from his hook on the back of the closet door, returned to Dad, and
handed him the paddle. He resumed his position over Dad’s lap.
This part started differently. Dad took some time to rub the paddle over his son’s red, sore bottom,
which only heightened Tony’s nervous anticipation. WHAP. The paddling began. Dad took longer between strikes,
letting the effect accumulate slowly. He had his goal in mind which was to have a sobbing boy over his
lap. It could take time, though, and why not, he thought. Tony needed a strong reminder. WHAP. The blows
of the paddle were as hard as the hand spanking, but felt worse due to the wood. WHAP. Tony felt he was
near screaming. WHAP. He felt himself breaking down. WHAP. Pause. WHAP. The boy let out with a long
which turned into loud sobs. He collapsed over Dad’s lap, sobbing, aware of nothing other than his painful
bottom and his tears. The spanking was over.
How long he lay there sobbing Tony had no idea. As he began to calm down, Tony was told to stand. He did, as did Dad. Now he was enfolded in a fatherly hug causing him to sob again, this time on Dad’s shoulder. Dad comforted his son.
As his sobs subsided, Tony said
I’m sorry, Dad. I know I deserved this. I’ll do better, I promise.
Yes, son, I’m sure you will. Now, lie down on the bed and let’s take care of your bottom.
Tony did. Dad left and returned with the soothing crème, taking plenty of time to rub it into his
son’s red butt, both to help soothe the pain and to show the needed fatherly affection.
You’ve learned your lesson. We’ll see you at lunch, then you are free to do as you wish.
Thank you, Daddy. Dad left. Tony lay there on his stomach, his bottom constantly reminding
him of what had happened and why. He wasn’t sure about lunch if Mom was back. Likely sitting would be
At the homes of his friends things were a bit different. Each boy had placed his paddle on his desk, figuring it should be in plain sight for their father. By one o’clock they were still unspanked and they came to realize that they were being denied lunch as no summons had been given. The idea of spankings on an empty stomach was not appealing.
Shortly after one o’clock Dan’s father came into his son’s bedroom.
Pick up your paddle and come
with me, son, he said in firm tones. Dan grabbed the paddle and followed his father downstairs. They
proceeded to go next door where Joe and his father were waiting in the kitchen. Joe’s mother rather pointedly
announced she was going to visit next door, so the boys knew that neither mother would witness their chastisements.
After Mom’s departure, Joe’s dad led them into the den where two chairs were set and Joe’s paddle conspicuously was waiting on the coffee table. As had Tony’s Dad, each father undressed his son, neither of whom were wearing briefs, like Tony, making it an easy job for the dads. The boys were placed over their respective father’s lap. The fathers alternated in giving the lecture, one quite similar to Tony’s, this one with the added disapproval of some of the boys’ other behavior.
This, once and for all, should get some sense into you two, said Joe’s Dad. With that the
hand spankings began. Both fathers were angry with their sons and the hand spanking portion matched what
Tony had received. The rhythm was a bit different between the fathers, but the effect was the same with
two boys yelling and kicking in short order. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK descended on each bottom, sometimes
simultaneously, sometimes in succession. Either way, the boys gave no heed to the rhythm. Their focus
was on what the spanking was inflicting. This may well be the worst spanking they’d ever had and it was
nowhere near over, that they knew.
Tony had not protested during his spanking. These two both gave out with yells of
ow and also
Daddy, please! I’ll behave! Ow, please! It hurts, and the usual childish cries of that
type. To no avail, of course. The big difference is that the paddlings were to be applied to crying boys.
Skillfully each father guided his son to tears, both boys breaking out in sobs almost simultaneously.
A glance between the fathers signaled the end of this part.
Now two crying boys were instructed to retrieve their paddles, which only added to the crying. Obediently each did, handing the weapon to his father then resuming his place over the lap. These dads wasted no time. WHAP WHAP. Near screams from their sons. WHAP WHAP. Sobbing intensified. Two more. WHAP WHAP. The boys were broken over their fathers’ laps. The punishment ended.
As had happened with their friend, soon the boys were allowed to stand to be enwrapped in their fathers’ arms. They cried it out, ending at about the same time. Both apologized to each Dad, promising to improve their behavior. With assurances from the fathers that this was understood the boys were sent up to Dan’s room where they threw themselves down on the bed. Soon the fathers were there, soothing their sons’ bottoms and giving words of comfort.
That night the three boys gathered at Dan’s, his parents being next door with Joe’s. Bottoms were
still red and quite a bit of time was taken comparing color and stories.
I guess we’d better watch
it, said Joe.
I don’t want any more of that. The other two agreed.
It was a week before they resumed their own spanking fun. Somehow Dan and Joe managed to avoid any further detentions. All three still paid their visits to Mr. Bailey to have their needs met, but with him it was different from spankings from angry fathers.
Needless to say, curfews were followed strictly.
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