textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/boylearn.txt

A BOY LEARNS RESPECT



	My father left my mom with two boys to raise when I was ten and
my little brother was 9.  Mom did her best to raise us right,
but I guess we were a handful.  When I was turning 13, she lost
a job and her brother, my uncle Peter, took us in for a few
months.  I'll never forget one night a few days after we arrived
at his big house to take up our stay there.  His own kids, also
both boys, were older; one in college and one a senior in high
school.  I guess I'd always been aware that Uncle Pete was
pretty strict with his sons.  We'd never been all that close,
but I could remember times when he was very stern with them,
especially the younger one, Rob, and I recall at least one time
when they visited us when he took Rob out to their car and
spanked him.  I hadn't been spanked since before my Dad left,
and it didn't really even occur to me as something that might
happen to me if I wasn't careful around Uncle Pete.

	Well, that evening I guess I was being pretty mouthy to my Mom,
talking back and not being very cooperative about helping her
get things settled in in the guest apartment over the garage
where Uncle Pete was putting us up.  We all had dinner together,
and I don't even remember the details, but I must have been real
bratty and backtalking --  it was hardly unusual for me at the
time.

	Uncle Pete gave me real cold looks a couple of times during
dinner, but he didn't say anything.  I ate quickly and wanted to
get up from the table before anyone else.  I started to just get
up, and my Mom said, "Mike, aren't you going to stay for
dessert?"

	"Aw, mom," I said, "I wanna see what's on TV.. I'll have it in
there."

	Uncle Pete looked at me with this mean, angry stare.  "Michael,
in this house, you will ask to be excused from the table.  And
your mother does not wish for you to be excused, so you will
wait patiently while the rest of us enjoy our meal.  Do you
understand me?"

	"Uhh.. yeah, sure, Uncle Pete, whatever you say.."

	"And I will see you after supper, young man.  We have a few
things to get straight now that you are living here with us."

	My mom looked embarrassed at this.  I didn't know what to think
or say... he was so earnest and not too kindly.  "Yeah, sure,
Uncle Pete..."

		The rest of the meal was like a session in the library. 
Rose,
my uncle's wife, was obviously uncomfortable.  She tried to
speak to Uncle Pete in a low voice at one point, but he fairly
snapped at her, "just leave this to me, will you!"

	My cousin Rob looked at me with this malicious smile and
surreptitiously managed to mutter so only I could hear, "you're
gonna get it big time, Mikey, I can tell, believe me."

	I wasn't quite sure what he meant, but I had an inkling it
would not be pleasant and might be painful as well as
embarrassing.

	Finally dinner ended and the table was cleared.  I even helped.
 But Uncle Pete was intent.  He came up to me and put his hand
on my shoulder.  "I'll see you in my study now, young man.  We
have to come to an understanding."

	He turned and walked towards the study.  I hesitated, but he
looked back and said, "get down here now, son.  It won't be any
easier if you drag it out."

	I walked slowly down to his study, and entered through the open
door.  He was already seated on the sofa.  He patted the seat
next to him, and said, "come in here.  We're going to have a
talk about respect, obedience, helpfulness, and attitude.  These
are areas where I have observed you need work if you're going to
be living in out house."

	"Uh, OK, sure.."

	"First, you will address me as 'Uncle Pete,' or 'sir.'  I am
your uncle and you are a child.  This is the proper way for you
to speak to me, or to your Aunt Rose, or to your mother.  If you
do not, you will be punished.  Am I clear?"

	"Uhh... yes... sir."

	"That's better.  Now, you have a very bad habit of talking back
to adults and arguing when you are asked to perform simple
chores.  This I will not tolerate, and you have already gone
beyond any reasonable bounds of acceptable behavior.  When you
are told to do something by one of the adults of this house, you
will answer respectfully, and you will do it without argument. 
I am going to spank you in order to make this point very, very
clear."

	"S..spank me!?" I blurted.  "Gee, uncle Pete, you don't hafta
do that.. I'll be good... I promise I will."

	"I know you will, because I'm going to spank you so hard you
will remember this lesson very well.  I accept your promise. 
But you are going to be punished for what you've already done. 
It's important for you to learn from very definite experience
that this is serious, and you WILL change your behavior.  Now,
get over here and drop your pants."

	He slapped his lap, indicating I was to go over his knee.  I
was still sort of shocked.  But I stood up and walked closer to
him. 

	"Shirt off."

	I tool off my shirt and slowly undid my belt and fly, pulled
down my pants, and stood facing him with my pants down at my
knees and with my underwear still on.  I hoped he wouldn't make
me pull them down too, I was already so humiliated I was
blushing bright red.

	His eyes met mine, and there was the slightest nod.  I lay
across his lap, with my briefs still on, and my pants down at my
knees.  I could feel the warmth of his body through the briefs,
and felt a little involuntary stirring of my cock.

	"Michael, before we start, I want you to understand something. 
I am NOT going to go easy on you.  You have been getting away
with being a complete brat for a long time.  I know it's hard
for your mother, but you are in need of some serious discipline,
and I intend to make sure you get it, starting RIGHT NOW."

	And SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP! he started spanking me on my
underpants.  The slaps were hard, and came steadily, with his
hand cupped and holding onto my butt a second after each slap. 
After just four or five I was feeling a forceful sting with each
slap and I squirmed and moaned.  He kept on...
SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!

	After twenty or so, I squirmed and howled, "OK, Uncle Pete! 
I'll be good, I promise!  OWW!  OWW!"

	SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!  "Yes, you will, and you will also take
your spanking tonight like a man.  We've just gotten started."

	With that, he yanked my underpants away from my butt and
redoubled the spanking a little harder.  He covered my whole ass
with his ample hand, and showed no hesitation to slap hard, even
at the base of my butt, where the curve of the buttocks meets
the leg.  He seemed to relish glancing a series of slaps off
that area before moving to the crown of my ass for a few good
hard on smacks.  SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!  On and on, he spanked
and spanked as I squirmed and howled "OWW!  OWWW!  OWWW!" loud
and for real.  I had never been spanked so hard in my life!

	My face contorted with the unrelenting spanking, and my butt
was glowing bright red, but he showed no sign of letting up.  I
had no idea how many slaps he had already given me, squirming
and howling the whole time, but it must have been more than a
hundred.

	All of a sudden, he sped up and gave me 20 or so very hard
slaps, very fast.  I almost screamed with the shock and sharp
pain.  Then he stopped.  "Whew!"  I thought, "finally over!" --
but no.

	"OK, Mike, now you know what's in store for you if you talk
back and act like a brat.  You will be taken over my knee like
the naughty child you are and thoroughly spanked.  And don't
think I won't do it each and every time you need it.  But now,
you must learn what happens to wilfully disobedient young men. 
You are going to learn to cooperate in this house and to obey
your mother and myself.  Stand up."

	"But, Uncle Pete, sir, I've learned my lesson!  I promise to do
as I'm told!  I've had enough!  Please!"  I was truly desperate
-- I didn't think I could take any more spanking!

	"Yes, you have learned that lesson.   I note you are speaking
to me with proper respect.  Keep that up.  And I accept your
promise to cooperate and do what you are told to do.  But you
have yet to be punished for your past misbehavior, and that it
the only way, believe me, I know, to impress on a young man how
serious this is.  Now get over here, you are going to get the
paddle, and you WILL LEARN obedience and cooperation."

	I walked towards the desk.  I still had my pants pulled down,
so I had to sort of waddle.  He reached in his drawer and pulled
out a wooden paddle, about half an inch thick, made of laminated
wood, with a non-skid handle, and about 9 inches by five, with
an oval paddle.  He put a pillow on the edge of the desk and
made my stand right up against the desk, bent over and gripping
the far end.

	He touched the paddle to my already flaming butt.  "I told you
I was not going to go easy on you, and I meant it.  You've been
overdue for this for a long time, and you're getting it now."

	SWAT! .. I guess it wasn't really all that hard, but coming
after the hardest spanking I'd ever had, it seemed like someone
had taken a torch to my butt.  SWAT! .....SWAT!  There was a
period of several seconds between each swat.  I howled with each
swat and whimpered in between.  I couldn't believe how much it
hurt, but he just kept on, swat after swat.  No counting, no
sign of how long this would go on, but I was sure I couldn't
take much of it.

	Uncle Pete had other ideas.  I now realize he wasn't giving me
full-force swats at arms length, though at the time they hurt so
bad it was hard for me to imagine anything harder.  He was
basically spanking me with the paddle, slowly, pretty hard, and
standing up, but it was a barebutt spanking, not a few swats
like you'd get in school.  An he had no intention of cutting it
short.

	After 20, I was fairly dancing in a desperate attempt to avoid
the sting of my uncle's vicious little paddle.  He put his hand
squarely and firmly on the small of my back to anchor me and
kept paddling my butt  SWAT!.....SWAT!.....SWAT!  on and on!

	"I want you...  SWAT!...  to understand  SWAT!...  you will get
the paddle...  SWAT!  SWAT!... each and every time you disobey
an adult in this house.  SWAT!  SWAT!  You will learn to
cooperate without argument if I have to paddle your butt every
damn day.  Do you understand me, Michael?"   SWAT!  SWAT!  SWAT!

	"OWWW!  OHHH!  Yes, sir!  OWWWW!  I'll be good... OHHHH!  OH,
please stop!"

	SWAT!  SWAT!  He said nothing, just kept ON!  I squirmed
mightily and cried and whimpered and yelled, but he just kept on
with these unrelenting swats.  My butt was an inferno and each
swat brought tears and an involuntary jerk of my whole body, but
he kept on spanking.

	Finally, he pushed a little harder on the small of my back, and
again sped up the spanking, giving me twenty or so hard swats
very fast.  "AAAAANNH!" I wailed ... it hurt so bad!

	"That will do for now... if you keep your promise to cooperate
cheerfully, and obey your mother, your Aunt and me, you won't
have to get the paddle again, so remember that.  Now stay put,
I'll apply some alcohol to your butt to prevent an infection."

	"Alcohol?"  I thought, as I rubbed my torn-up butt, still
flaming hot and SO sore I could hardly believe it.  But what
that meant I didn't fully realize till I felt the wetness of his
hand on my left cheek, then Zow!  the stinging of the alcohol
was like 20 more swats all at once!  I knew he did this on
purpose.  Oh God!  It stung!  He applied it to the other cheek,
then more to both sides.  I kicked and wiggled and cried out it
stung so bad.

	"Calm down, Michael, this is necessary to make sure you don't
have any infections.  Now stop squirming."

	I was still bent over, my fiery red ass exposed.  He put his
hand back on my back and SLAP!  he spanked me with his hand
again!  SLAP!  SLAP!  SLAP!!  He gave me about ten VERY hard
slaps, which I didn't expect at all.

	"That's for good measure, young man.  You have to remember that
whenever you screw up, talk back, or disobey, you WILL BE
SPANKED.  Now put your clothes on and go to your room and stay
there till bedtime.  And I will be checking on you... if you
come out, except to go to the bathroom, you'll get another
spanking and I don't think you want that after what you've just
had, do you?"

	"Oh, no, sir," I said, and trundled off to nurse my beaten ass.

	I didn't find myself hating him for beating me so hard; maybe
on some level I knew I needed it.  And I really did try to do
what he wanted and avoid getting paddled and spanked the rest of
the four months we lived there.  My mom looked at me funny the
next day, but I never mentioned Uncle Pete's spanking me, and
nothing was ever said.  If she didn't want her brother laying
into her son like that, she didn't say.   And I did get paddled
just as hard several times more by my Uncle, who had a justified
reputation as a strict disciplinarian, as I found out when he
spanked his own sons, one of whom was 21, and me, all at the
same time...but that's another story for another time.