Written By: Mel
Hi Everyone:
When I saw the DP question: ‘Has your Brat ever hidden or disposed of a potential implement when expecting trouble?’ I could not help but think of a particular incident that occurred early in the days of our DP.
Bobby and I had been discussing the use of implements and I had suggested that a paddle would be appropriate for some of the more serious or difficult instances. Bobby had at first protested vehemently against the use of any implement beyond my hand and of course I would not force him, as I believe strongly in the consensual elements of a DP. However, I did use my powers of persuasion to convince him of it and eventually he did agree, with one proviso. Bobby is a master carpenter and craftsman and he argued that if such an implement were to be used on his backside he wanted to create himself, thus ensuring the quality of the workmanship and he added most importantly, the smoothness of the finish. I believe his exact words were “I’m not gettin’ any damn splinters in my butt.”
A few days later Bobby shyly presented me with a beautifully crafted paddle. I held it in my hand and admired the way all the edges had been perfectly rounded. For the user’s benefit, the handle was ergonomically designed and the finish was mirror smooth; no splinters would be found. I was very proud of Bobby for doing this. Knowing the pain this implement could bring to him, he still was willing to be its creator. I wrapped the paddle in a soft cloth and placed it respectfully into my desk drawer.
During the following two weeks Bobby seemed edgier than usual, his behavior surly and snappish. I had had to reprimand him on several occasions for his rude mouth and had even been forced to turn him over my knee when he lost his temper with me over a small disagreement about washing dishes. I was frankly concerned that something larger was bothering my Brat but could get no where with him when I tried to talk it out.
On a Friday evening, we were working together to clean out the shed that we used for storage of all the lawn and gardening supplies as well as sporting equipment. Bobby’s mood was poor right from the start of this project and continued to deteriorate as we worked. Finally, I grew tired of his rude mouth and gave him two hard swats the seat of his pants and told him to go into the house and pick a corner and wait for me.
What happened next came as a huge surprise. Bobby walked towards the door of the shed where his bicycle was standing. Before I could react, he had leaped up onto the bike and started peddling down the driveway, shouting back to me about what I could do with myself in the corner.
I watched in shock as he sped rapidly down the street. Without even slowing at the stop sign, he turned left and disappeared from my sight. He was riding in an angry and emotional state towards a busy road, without his helmet. My heart pounded in my chest as I envisioned my partner lying beneath the wheels of some large truck. I drew several deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself and then got into my car to go in search of him.
It was over an hour later that I spotted him peddling along Highway 7 back towards our home. I had been going in the opposite direction and had to turn around and catch up with him. I drove slightly passed him and pulled onto the shoulder of the highway. I was half afraid he’d turn and go the other way when he saw me but he came to a halt and climbed off his bike right behind my car.
I won’t bore you with all the details of our reunion but to say the least, Bobby was contrite and very sorry he’d run off as he had. My Bobby is a runner. When a problem seems overwhelming to him or he looses his temper, he has an awful tendency to run. This was a habit I was determined to break. Although if you have heard of Bobby’s adventure when he cut himself in his workshop, you’ll know that it’s not been a habit I’ve been totally successful in breaking.
We loaded his bike into the back of my car and proceeded home slowly. When we got there, I took Bobby into my office sat him on the sofa and told him how seriously I took this incident. Not only had he defied me when I told him to go into the house, he had taken off on his bike without a helmet, as required by law, and with no concern whatsoever for his or anyone else’s safety. I went to my desk, took out the paddle, carried it over and placed it on the coffee table, then sat down on the sofa beside him.
Bobby looked at the paddle and his breathing began to grow a bit erratic. Sensing his distress, I pulled him close with a hug. “We need to cover the issues, sweetheart. Come to an understanding as to what you did as compared to what you should have done. Okay?”
We talked it all through and I thought that Bobby was pretty clear on things but when I told him to take off his pants he began to get panicky again. I decided that he was just worried about the paddle as it was the first time we’d be using it and thought the kindest thing to do would be to just get on with it. I got him to his feet and undid his pants for him, lowered them along with his boxers to the floor, and drew him firmly over my lap. “All right, let’s get this done, Bobby. The first part by hand and then you get six swats with the paddle.”
I spanked hard. Bobby endured it with few tears, mostly groans and a few gasps as his bottom grew redder in colour. I decided it was time to put this little paddle to use and reached for it. Bobby tried to protest at the last second, but I would have none of it. I simply pulled Bobby tightly against me and brought the paddle down smartly. Bobby cried out as it stung on his already tender skin. I raised the paddle again and brought it down on the opposite cheek. That’s when it happened. With a loud crack, the paddle separated from its’ handle. The force of the blow sent the paddle spinning up off of Bobby’s butt right into my nose.
I’m sure anyone who has taken a blow to the nose knows what it feels like; the pain is sudden and terrible. I let out an involuntary cry and dropped to broken handle as I brought my hands up to hold my throbbing proboscis. I could feel blood dripping between my fingers and felt Bobby slide off of my lap. He was sobbing and mumbling on about how horrible he was and that it was all his fault if I had a broken nose. I knew I had to stop the bleeding first, before I could deal with Bobby. I pulled my shirt off and used it to staunch the flow and asked Bobby to go to the kitchen and get me an ice pack and some paper towels.
Bobby ran out of the room and quickly returned with the requested items. It took only a few moments to stop the bleeding and although very sore, I knew my nose was not broken. Bobby had continued to carry on about it’s being his fault and that I should beat him with my belt until he was black and blue. Once I cleaned up a bit, I took my practically hysterical lover into my arms and tried to calm him.
“Baby, look at me! I’m okay! Nothing is broken, just a bloody nose is all.” I spoke slowly and calmly. He finally looked up at me and studied my face carefully. That seemed to relax him a bit. When I knew he’d settled I asked, “Now do you want to explain what all this carrying on was about?” His face turned as crimson as his bottom and he turned away again. “Bobby?”
He drew a deep breath as if to fortify his nerves and began to talk. “I’m really sorry, Dave. It wasn’t meant to hurt you, just to make you think that the paddle was a bad idea. If it broke the first time you used it, you’d realize how strong you are and wouldn’t want to use one again. I’m sorry, I really am. I’m so stupid, it was such a dumb idea.” With this he began to cry harder and light began to dawn for me.
“Bobby, you made that paddle so it would break?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
He nodded sadly. “I made the veneer very thin on both sides and even scored it before attaching it to a core of drilled out balsa wood. I knew it would break within a couple of swats, but I never thought it would hurt you.”
‘My poor boy,’ I thought but knew it would do little good to provide him with extensive sympathy for his actions. “I have to say I’m disappointed to hear this, Bobby. If you were so unsure or unhappy about the paddle, you should have told me. I’m always willing to talk with you. The discipline we use is consensual, isn’t it?” He nodded again. “However, instead of talking with me, you chose to deceive me with a sabotaged paddle.” This statement brought on a fresh round of tears.
“I’m going to have to think through the consequences for this, Bobby. While I’m thinking, I want you to be doing the same.” I pulled a wooden chair out and pointed to it. “You sit there and don’t move until I call you.” At some point he’d managed to pull on his boxers but that didn’t change the fact that his bottom was still stinging from the spanking and aborted paddling I had given him. So I wasn’t surprise to see the pleading look in his eyes as I pointed to the hard seat. “Sit!” I repeated firmly, leaving no room for argument. He let out a mighty hiss as butt met chair but he did what he was told.
I went up to our bedroom and got cleaned up and changed. I looked in on Bobby as I walked past my office; he was still seated as instructed, so I proceeded to the kitchen to get us both a bottle of water. When I returned, he looked up at me with sad expectant eyes. I took a seat on the couch but left him where he was on the hard chair. We spent the next half-hour discussing he’s feelings about using a paddle and the reasons he went so far as to create the sabotaged one.
In the end Bobby surprised me by saying that he felt the paddle was an appropriate thing for us and then he begged me to allow him to create a proper one. I know my boy well enough that he would make the best paddle in the world after what happened. I was however, careful to give him very specific instructions for dimensions as I got the feeling he might make a larger, more sever one than I wanted.
Bobby was still feeling very guilty about the whole incident though and I knew that in order to clear the air for him we would have to finish up the punishment we had started. I added four more swats to the sentence for his sabotaging of the other paddle.
Four days later Bobby presented me with a beautiful rosewood paddle, finish as smooth as satin. I looked it over carefully and gave it two firm swats against the palm of my hand, not that I thought for a second that it would break but more to get the feel of the impact it created. Bobby took those ten swats as stoically as possible but by the end the tears were seeping through his tightly closed eyelids.
I have had over to course of time a few occasions to make further use of that paddle. It looks as perfect today as it did the day he made it. It might sound odd but I think each time I’ve used it, it has brought us a little closer together with the remembrance of what lead to its creation.
Dave Brooks
No comments:
Post a Comment