| Subject: Re: A Taste of Old-Fashioned Discipline |
Author:
Patrick
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Date Posted: 15:02:15 03/10/18 Sat
In reply to:
Stan
's message, "A Taste of Old-Fashioned Discipline" on 13:54:48 03/09/18 Fri
>In the 1970s, I lived in a 2-story apartment building
>with a carport in the back. The apartment building
>next door had a detached carport at the rear of its
>lot. And the parking areas for the 2 apartment
>buildings were separated by a low wall only about a
>foot high.
>
>One day, I was walking out to my car in back when a
>man in front of the carport next door said "Hello" to
>me. He seemed very friendly, and we chatted together
>for quite a while. He was somewhat older than me. He
>told me he was the manager for the apartment building
>next door. He never seemed too busy for some friendly
>conversation. So, whenever I ran into him behind the
>apartment buildings, I would cross over the low
>dividing wall and chat with him.
>
>One afternoon, the apartment manager silently motioned
>to me with his hands to come over to his apartment
>building. He was acting kind of strange, almost
>secretive. My curiosity was piqued. So I stepped over
>the low dividing wall and followed him into his
>carport. He opened a door at the rear of the carport,
>which led outside. There, he showed me a small
>enclosure he had built housing some rabbits he was
>raising! He asked me not to tell anyone about the
>rabbits as he thought it might be a violation of some
>city ordinance. So I promised to keep his secret.
>
>The manager had a wife and young son living with him.
>I ran into his son a number of times. He was in his
>early teens. There was something I found very
>attractive about the boy. He was so polite and
>respectful. In contrast, by the 1970s, most teenagers
>seemed to show nothing but contempt for their elders.
>The manager's son seemed more like a kid from the
>1950s.
>
>One time, I saw the apartment manager coming out of
>his carport. He appeared to be angry about something.
>I had never seen him quite that way before. As I
>approached him, I heard him say that his son had
>forgotten to secure the enclosure after feeding the
>rabbits and they had gotten loose. I watched him as he
>hurriedly passed me by, heading toward his apartment.
>
>Then, the apartment manager did something that totally
>surprised me. Seemingly oblivious to my presence, he
>unbuckled the belt he was wearing and pulled it out of
>the belt loops of his pants. Then he doubled the belt
>over, holding the 2 ends in one hand. My eyes were
>fixated on the loose end of his belt as it ominously
>swung back-and-forth with every step he took. I lost
>sight of him when he entered his apartment and shut
>the door, but my mind visualized the hellfire that was
>awaiting the boy: the burning sting he would feel as
>his father's well-worn belt struck his youthful
>buttocks over and over again, turning them a painful
>shade of red!
>
>I should mention that, by the 1970s, spanking a kid
>with a belt was considered tantamount to child abuse
>by some authorities. So, punishment scenes like the
>one I just described had become quite rare. But now,
>it was clear to me why the boy had been so respectful.
>He had been taught "respect for his elders" by the
>only method known to be effective, namely, spanking
>with a firm leather belt!
>
>Watching his father taking off his wide leather belt
>for some well-deserved punishment made a big
>impression on me, a memory that has stayed with me all
>these years, and something I've fantasized about many
>times. One such fantasy follows:
>
>I was having a conversation with the apartment manager
>next door, and I mentioned how impressed I was with
>the respect his son showed other people. The manager
>unashamedly replied that was largely due to the timely
>application of his belt. I told him I couldn't recall
>my father ever using his belt on me. The manager
>suddenly looked up and, in a voice that sounded almost
>seductive, he asked me if I would like to find out
>what old-fashioned discipline feels like. His question
>took me by surprise. His eyes locked onto mine, and I
>found myself unable to escape their penetrating gaze.
>I experienced conflicting emotions when it became
>clear to me that he really wanted to punish me with
>his belt! In an attempt to lure me into submission, he
>hooked his thumbs over the top of his large belt
>buckle and tucked his fingers underneath his belt (the
>way police officers are often seen doing). That
>gesture of dominance had the effect he intended. My
>attention was now totally focused on the manager's
>belt (and on the growing bulge in his pants). I felt
>powerless to resist him. Once he sensed that I was
>ready to submit to his will, he told me to follow him.
>
>The manager led me to a vacant apartment in his
>building. After we entered it, he told me to strip off
>all my clothes. Then, he tied me down spread-eagled on
>the bed with some rope. He said that, because of my
>size, I could easily escape from an unrestrained
>whipping. So, tying me down would give me the
>experience a young boy would have of being completely
>overpowered when he's being punished by a much
>stronger adult. As he stood over me, I anxiously
>watched as he took off his belt and doubled it over.
>He told me that he usually gave his son 20 lashes with
>the belt, but he thought that 50 lashes would be a
>more appropriate punishment for a young adult like me.
>Because I was older, I thought I could handle a
>whipping better than his young son, but I was sadly
>mistaken. As soon as the whipping began, it became
>(painfully) obvious that the manager was laying on the
>strokes with his full strength. I had no idea how
>sensitive my buttocks would be to the sting of his
>leather belt. After a dozen lashes, tears were already
>streaming down my cheeks, and soon, I was crying out
>loud. Before the whipping had even reached the halfway
>point, I was pleading with him to stop the punishment,
>but he showed me no mercy, and I let out a yell with
>every stroke of his unforgiving belt. Each stroke
>delivered a shock wave of pain that traveled through
>my entire body. I tugged at the ropes in vain,
>frantically trying to escape from his belt.
>
>After what seemed like an eternity, the whipping
>finally ended. Once I stopped crying, he untied me and
>told me to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, he stood
>directly in front of me and unzipped his fly.
>Suddenly, his cock emerged, hard and fully erect. He
>ordered me to suck his cock and swallow his cum, or
>he'd give me 50 more lashes with his belt! Terrified
>by the unbearable pain he had already inflicted on me,
>I did as he ordered. He told me that sucking his cock
>was a sign of my total submission to his authority.
>As I tasted his cum, I felt I was absorbing some of
>his masculinity.
>
>He told me my punishment was over with (for now) and I
>could leave, but, in the near future, I could expect
>to be called back again and again for more punishment.
>He said I had to make up for all those years of
>growing up without any discipline. After many more
>painful sessions with his belt, I began to think of
>him like a 2nd father who cared enough to apply the
>belt when it was needed.
>
>For the curious, everything that preceded my fantasy
>was true.
It is never to old for good discipline. It is our job as parents to teach our children how to be good adults. My kids are 19, 22, and 23 and to this day they not only expect, but respect me getting on to them for behaving in an inappropriate manner. All 3 get belt sometimes - at least monthly. I am their father. I will always be their dad... My job is never done! The consequences of their actions change as they get older because it isn't like you can ground them at 23, but you still guide them in the right direction. little reminder can go a long way!
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