| Subject: Re: A Taste of Old-Fashioned Discipline |
Author:
Ivan
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Date Posted: 10:18:24 10/01/18 Mon
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.
The good position for naughty teen:
https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x9_S6X6EKW0/WexhPP2Re4I/AAAAAAABGGc/ikLfNHuzHHM5--eZdOENaUdYYXD6tr0ZACLcBGAs/s1600/H%26A+%2815%29.JPG
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