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Dan and Joe
Joe is Punished Again

by Brhmsj

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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 Jan 2018

Dan and Joe – Joe is Punished Again. So is Dan


Joe’s paddle came down firmly on his bottom, a bottom already sore from a long hand spanking from his father. Now Dad was wielding the paddle.


Joe seemed intent on making his senior year of high school one of on-going chastisement and punishment. Dan was similarly inclined but he hadn’t been involved in this particular caper. Tomorrow, though, this scenario would be repeated next door. That comes later.


Daaaaad! Ow! Ow! Pleeeeeeaaaaase!! I’ll be good!!

WHACK WHACK WHACK with no heed given to the boy’s pleadings. Joe’s father was reaching his limit with his son’s antics and those of the boy next door.


Why is Joe once again over the lap? At home he is usually naked, so it is a given that this is a bare bottom spanking. It would be even if it required the removal of clothes. This punishment was more a case of Joe being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had not been involved, but nonetheless had done nothing to remove himself from the situation. This is what angered his father the most. Dad intended to have a very sorry eighteen-year-old when he was done. If the regret included tears, all the better.

Joe had been downtown after school with some buddies. Dan was elsewhere with some other friends. Joe’s group included a couple of guys who were well known for bad behavior, flouting authority, and regularly being on the edge of being arrested. One had been. In the center of town was a small block of stores, the most popular of which was a newspaper store selling, besides papers, candy, cigarettes and tobacco products, and a range of soft drinks. The two real troublemakers decided they were going to try shoplifting some cigarettes. Not easy as the smokes were behind the counter, but there was a plan. One would go after the candy counter, distracting the clerk. The other would duck behind, get the smokes, and be out the door. Joe and a couple of others would wait outside. So, Joe was not involved but he was complicit. He knew he should have simply said a good bye and gotten out of there but he did not.

The clerk did not fall for any of it. The police station was close by and almost immediately a cruiser was out front. Everyone was rounded up in front of the store. When the events were clear the two perpetrators were taken to the station, the others given stern warnings and the promise of phone calls to their respective homes. The cops knew all of these boys and not always for good reasons, unfortunately. Joe had never been in trouble with the police, but his father, and Dan’s, knew most of the men and women on the force.

Joe’s father was not at all happy with the telephone call that interrupted his last hour of work. He assured his friend from the station that Joe would be dealt with. The officer had no doubt as to exactly what that meant. He believed in spankings and successfully used such discipline on his own sons. Joe knew that this phone call would be made. He was relieved that no one was home when he returned. Undressing was automatic. He quickly was nude in his room trying to focus on some assigned reading but his mind was elsewhere. One might say that his mind was on his bottom. He knew his bottom would have the full focus of his attention soon enough. Painfully enough, too.

It was Dad who arrived home first. Joe sat quietly, listening to whatever sounds he could interpret. It was both too soon and an endless wait before he heard Dad’s footsteps on the stairs. Dad appeared in the doorway. Joe looked at him, chagrin firmly etched on his face, chagrin which alleviated nothing.

I had a phone call this afternoon.

Yes, Dad, in a meek voice.

I really am appalled at this. You have enough sense not to stick around when that sort of thing is going on. You may not have been involved directly, but not leaving makes you complicit in the theft. You know that.

Yes, Dad.

Dad went over to the closet door and took down the paddle, smacking it firmly one time on his hand. Joe jumped at the sound. Dad pulled up the chair, placed the paddle next to it and said get over my lap NOW! Joe didn’t hesitate. The tone of voice brooked no argument or dawdling. With no delay Joe was in position. No sooner was he across but Dad’s hand started an assault on his bottom. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK. SMACK SMACK SMACK Joe was yelling from the start. Mom could hear the commotion from outside when she returned home. She knew she’d hear all about it later and went about her business as calmly as she could.

SPANK SPANK SPANK. The first round of pleading. No, no! Daddy, please stop!! A good spanking invariably has a boy saying daddy just as he did when he was little and naughty and had to be spanked. I’ll be good!

Yes, you will, but I’m not done! The hand spanking continued.

It stopped. Joe felt Dad lean over for the paddle. That was the only pause. This where we came in. Some more with the paddle and suddenly there was a blubbering, bawling youngster over his father’s lap, well and thoroughly chastised for what both knew was unacceptable behavior. It could be dealt with no other way. Dad never bruised either boy, but Dad looked down at a very red bottom, knowing full well the sting was acute. The job was well done. Joe didn’t cry long over the lap. He was told to stand and get onto his bed.

I don’t want to see you until breakfast, young man!

Yes, Daddy, a sniffling boy replied. Dad left, Joe’s cue to burst into further tears, crying for quite a while, sorry for himself and his bottom. Other than a trip to the bathroom, Joe stayed in his room all night. He went to school with no homework done which meant facing more consequences.

The next day it was Dan’s turn. Yet again he found himself in a scuffle at school. The vice principal was quite angry as it was the same group of boys who engaged in this behavior as usual. Dan was always on the periphery but still he was there and involved. More phone calls to parents and more parents unhappy with their sons. Dan knew a call would be made and had a fairly good idea of what to expect at home. He knew about Joe’s ordeal of the night before. He hoped his own wouldn’t match.

All was quiet when Dan got home. The boys had walked home together, but went their separate ways when they reached their respective homes. In separate bedrooms our two friends were naked, one still feeling a sting in his backside, the other anticipating a sting in his. Mom was home first, calling up a greeting which was returned in a glum voice. She guessed that she’d know why when her husband came home. When he arrived he told her the story. Both knew what was next. Dad climbed the stairs and presented himself in his son’s room.

Much as his near-brother had done the day before, Dan tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on a book, but his concentration was one place only – his bottom. His Dad, too, would ensure that the boy’s bottom was his only focus for a while.

Dad’s voice was calm, but his annoyance and disappointment were clear. What is it with you? How many calls from school, let alone detentions, are we going to have? A question that had no answer nor was one expected. There was a repeat of yesterday next door with the paddle coming down from its hook behind the door followed by Dan’s father settling in the chair. Dan needed no instruction. He placed himself. His father, as had Joe’s, wasted no time in getting the hand spanking started. It was hard, too! Dan was yelling right away. He had no way of knowing at this point, but later when the boys compared spankings they realized that their spanking closely matched. A reflection of how close these two families were.

SPANK SPANK SPANK. Dan, too, was pleading just after the spanking started. Dad, pleeeeeaaase! Ow, Ow Ow! Dan rarely reverted to daddy when spanked and somehow he managed not to with this spanking. Still, as did Joe, he felt like he was little and naughty and had to be spanked. I’ll be good! he, too, promised, to no avail.

The hand spanking continued.

Suddenly it stopped. Dan knew that the paddle was next, it was only a matter of how long an interval. Again, as with Joe, the pause was short. Now the paddle was coming down on an already well-spanked bottom. It took a longer spanking with the paddle than Joe’s to induce tears, but there was a sudden burst, Dan now feeling foolish, crying like such a baby. He’d been bad, he needed to be spanked, he was suffering the consequences. Maybe tears would be a strong reminder to stay in line in the future. He, too, was told to stand and get onto his bed.

You’re to stay here until tomorrow morning. No supper for you.

Yes, Dad, Dan replied through his tears. Now, lying on his bed, he gave way to more tears. As had Joe, he felt very sorry for himself, even knowing he had received no less than he deserved. Now it was Dan’s turn to go to school with no homework done. It was a sense of dread that he joined Joe for the walk to school the next morning. He’d have to face his teachers and hardly could say that he forgot his homework because he’d received a good paddling. Joe hadn’t wormed out of anything yesterday, so he had no advice to give. Speaking of school, somehow for all their mischievous behavior, the boys’ grades were not suffering. That was a relief to both sets of parents.

That night they compared stories and bottoms. Neither wanted a repeat of this and agreed to monitor each other more closely. We will see how well it works.

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