Bobby tuned out at his father lectured him at the dinner table. Talk, talk, talk. All the old man ever wanted to do was talk. Didn't he understand that Bobby wasn't impressed by his fancy words, or moved by his "understanding"? He didn't understand anything. Laura was dead, she'd cheated on him with some loser, and now he had the cops on his back. The last thing he needed was words. He took a cigarette from his pocket and put it into his mouth with contempt.
A moment later a stinging slap sent the cigarette flying from his mouth directly into his mother's meatloaf. Bobby looked at his father in shock. Garland was never one for violence. Sure, he'd gotten his butt warmed now and then growing up, but even that was rare.
"Now I am a tolerant man, but my patience has its limits", the major growled, "To have its path made clear is the aspiration of every human being in our beclouded and tempestuous existence. Robert, you and I are going to work to make yours real clear"
"We're here for you, Bobby", his mother added, picking the cigarette from her meal.
"That is true. Now, I believe I have, in my urges to see you blossom as a man, given you a measure of freedom for which you are not yet prepared"
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Bobby asked, leaning back in his chair unaffected.
"You'd do well, son, to keep a civil tongue in your mouth and a modicum of respect in your countenance. Your behavior, both that which caused you to be incarcerated and that which you have shown tonight, have stripped away the patience on which I customarily pride myself. What I mean to say is son", he grabbed his sons chair by the leg and scooted it closer, "You would not like to push me further. Are we in agreement?"
Bobby gulped back a lump in his throat, his eyes widening. He'd heard this tone in his father before, rarely. He hoped it didn't foretell what he thought it did.
"Yes sir"
"Excellent. Now you are to obey the curfew laws provided to us by the government of this town, along with any other laws which may be in existence. Is that clear?"
"Yeah. It's clear"
"And for the next week, you are to come directly home from school, with the exception of football practice. In which case you may stay until practice is ended, and come directly home from there. Is that clear?"
"What?"
"Bobby, I warn you"
"I'm seventeen years old! You can't tell me where I can and can't go."
"As your father I see the matter differently."
"Yeah, well as your son, you can kiss my ass", Bobby crossed his arms and stared into his mashed potatoes. He hadn't noticed his mother's warning clucks and head shakes, and he didn't notice when his father subtly gestured her away from the table. She touched his shoulder as he passed and he looked up, startled to see her go. When he met his father's eyes, his stomach flipped.
"As you wish, son" the major said, calmly standing up and pulling his son up by the arm, "Your bottom shall indeed be kissed, but not by my lips. I believe the stinging caress of leather will do you far more service"
"Wait, Dad…" Bobby's voice changed into a whine as his father easily pulled off his belt and pants, bending him over the table.
"Son, as a peaceful man, I try with all my might to avoid situations in which brute force is used beyond discussion and reasoning. But as a father and one determined to see you succeed and claim the spoils of your magnificent potential, I will use any means necessary to reach you. If, as is the case today, I must reach your ears through your posterior, then so be it. You will receive ten strokes of the belt with your underwear in place and ten additional strokes absent of their protection. Are you ready to begin?"
"Dad, wait…"
"I assure you that your cooperation in this matter will go much further than your pleas. Are you ready to begin?"
"…"
"Bobby."
"… yes sir"
"Yes sir what, son?"
"Yes sir. I'm ready to begin"
"You're showing a marked improvement already son", with that Garland lifted the belt into the air and brought it down hard on Bobby's bottom. The boy jerked with the pain and gripped the table tightly, trying not to cry out. Garland kept up the belt strokes. First just underneath the back, then on this check, then on that, now across the thighs. By the tenth stroke, Bobby was hissing, grunting, and yelling with each smack of the belt. He caught his breath as his father paused for a minute, whimpering when he felt his underwear pulled down. The first sting of leather on his bare skin brought tears to his eyes and the second sent the boy jumping up from the table, howling.
"Please Dad, no more. I swear, I'll do whatever you say. Please"
"Robert, I informed you that your pleas would be ineffective during this punishment. Please bend back over the table, so that we can bring this to its conclusion"
"Wait. Please, just pull my underwear back up. Not on the bare. Daddy, please"
"Although it moves me to hear you call me by the name which I have not heard since your early childhood, I understand that the completion of this punishment is necessary, not only to your view and respect of me as an authority and father; it is necessary as a deterrent to your future misbehaviors. As such, it will be carried out until its close", he guided his sobbing son back over the table, rubbing his back in comfort for a moment, "We'll start this portion of the punishment again"
Bobby gritted his teeth at the first belt stroke and broke down sobbing as the belt fell again and again. Garland made sure to keep a steady hand on the boy's back, both in comfort and to make sure he didn't jump up again. Neither of them wanted to start over again. The sooner it was over the better. The eighth and ninth strokes landed on Bobby's thighs, making him rise up onto his tiptoes, squealing and begging his father to stop.
"Daddy.. I'm so sorry. Please. I'm so sorry"
"I'm sure you are son. This last stroke will be the hardest. I want you to remember this punishment and let it dissuade you from any future actions similar to those you have shown in the past few days. Am I clear?"
"Yehes sir. I'm sorry"
The major tapped the belt in the area just above the thighs and below the buttocks, known to be the most sensitive spot for spanking. He pulled his arm back and let the belt fly one last time. Bobby shouted his response and sprung from the table again, clutching his bottom with tears streaming from his face. Garland wrapped the boy in a fierce hug, a little surprised when the boy returned it with the same strength.
"I'm sorry Dad"
"Son, after a bout of firm discipline, it is as if all of the transgressions and peccadilloes float away into the vast sea of forgetfulness"
"Um, I don't know what that means"
"It means I forgive you son. And I love you"
"I love you too, Dad"