"This is boring, Dad," Klint Johanson stated scornfully, as he held a string of Christmas lights up to his father.

The older man peered down from a ladder with a frown on his square-jawed face. "I know, Klint, that this isn't the most exciting thing in the world, but we have to get the lights on before we decorate. You know?"

Klint rolled his eyes and then pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and checked it for messages. Realizing noone had called, he grumbled a little and then tossed the small phone onto the living room sofa.

He looked up at his heavyset dad and sighed heavily, wondering if the old man was ever going to get the lights strung up properly. "Your crack is showing, dad," he said with disgust as he watched his old man straining upwards on the stepladder.

There was no reply as the older man continued to drape the twinkle lights in a zig-zag pattern.

Klint surveyed the Christmas tree critically. "God dad, the tree is way too skinny," he grumbled. "If I'd been here when you bought it I would've got a better one." The ladder swayed precariously as Klint's father jerked his head around. "You, know," he ground out, "ever since you came home from college this weekend you've done nothing but criticize. "Could you tone it down just a bit, big shot?"

Klint could feel his cheeks getting hot with indignation. Big Shot? How totally offensive, and if his dad was a little more cool he wouldn't feel the need to criticise him anyway! He realized that ever since he'd gone away to college, everything about his hometown and his family did seem kind of unsophisticated and uncool, Kind of like the Beverly Hillbillies as a matter of fact.

The young man smirked at the thought, then put his headphones on and turned his CD player up to the highest volume, and plopped down on the couch. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in the jams until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Klint jerked in surprise, and his eyes flew open to see a very red-faced dad glaring at him. Pulling the headphones off he raised his brows. "What??" he demanded, not caring that the older man looked close to the boiling point.

"What are you doing, mister?" The older Johanson demanded. "I asked you to get me another string of lights."

With another roll of his eyes, Klint reluctantly got to his feet. He bent down and snatched up a tangled string and shoved it out toward his dad. "Here!'" he said impatiently.

"If you roll your eyes at me once more, Klint, you might just find yourself across the bed getting your rump busted," the older man growled threateningly. "So, you'd better just get that attitude under control before I have to show you that you aren't too old for a whipping."

With those words, his father took the lights out of his son's hand and stepped up on the ladder once more, leaving Klint to simmer in his outrage.

Stunned by the threat, his mouth flopped open and closed a few time, like a fish struggling on a hook, while his nineteen-year-old brain fully registered the insult. He felt the hot flush that had started in his cheeks earlier making its way up to his forehead, as he stood and quivered in impotent humiliation.

A minute later, still furious, he opened the front door and slammed it behind him as he stalked out onto the porch. "Bastard!" he hissed and then flopped down on the top step. He looked stonily ahead when he heard the door opening.

"What are you doing? We aren't finished with the tree."

"Screw the tree!" Klint burst out feeling his control slipping. He turned flashing dark eyes up to the older man and scowled at him. "Let me tell you something, Dad. I don't even have to come home for the holidays if you're going to treat me like this. I can just stay in the dorm and it'd probably be more fun too!"

A heavy sigh escaped the older man. "What are you talking about?" He asked, sounding as if his his patience was being heavily taxed. "Treat you how?

Klint stared straight ahead into the twilight, trying to ignore the festively lit houses on the block. "Will you just leave me alone? I just want to sit out here for a while...ALONE!"

The older man sighed once more and then sat down beside his son on the steps. "What's going on with you?" he demanded as he looked over at the teen. "You never used to act like this, and you used to love to decorate the Christmas tree. I just don't understand it."

Klint scowled as he saw the look of bewilderment in his father's eyes. He wasn't about to inform the older man that things at college weren't going as well as he had expected. That his being popular, smart and cool at his hometown high school hadn't done him a bit of good in a huge university full of guys who had also been smart, cool and popular. He was having a rough time finding his place on the massive campus and fitting in, but he was not going to admit it! Especially since his old man hadn't even waited for him to get home before going to buy the tree. Resentment simmered just under the surface at that slight, and the thought of losing his place in his family as well as the change of status in school was almost overwhelming.

"What's to understand," he said with a shrug. "Decorating the tree is just totally boring, that's all, and I'm too old to do petty shit like this now. I'm grown, you know.

"Watch the language," his father replied in exasperation.

Klint narrowed his hazel eyes. "Would you stop telling me what to do, Dad? I told you I'm grown now and you don't have the right to boss me around anymore!"

He stared boldly into his father's eyes after his declaration of independence, and waited for the older man's response.

The older man stared sternly back and Klint thought he could see a flash of anger in the dark eyes. "I think you're getting a little too big for your britches, son, but I think I know how to fix that."

With the words, his father grabbed hold of his upper arm and then standing up, pulled the teen quickly to his feet.

"Let go of me!" Klint practically roared as he tried to shake off his dad's vicelike hold. "I told you-"

SWAT!!!

A loud and stinging smack to his backside interrupted him and he gasped in shock. As his face grew hot with embarrassment and outrage, the teen quickly glanced around at the nearby houses to make sure noone was outside who could've witnessed the spank. Luckily noone was.

"Ow! That was totally uncalled for," he hissed as he reached around and gave a quick rub to his still tingling butt.

His father's face loomed close to his own. "That was just a warning, young man," he said in a low threatening tone. "If you don't change your attitude right now, You're going to find yourself face down on the bed, getting a blistering from my belt.

The older man touched his his belt buckle lightly, and Klint shivered slightly as a gnawing fear gripped his belly. He had been whipped with his dad's belt on a couple of occassions and he didn't want to ever experience it again. The last time he had been strapped was when he was a senior in his school and had gotten a ticket for running a red light. He could still remember how sore he had been for a day or two and how horribly his backside had ached whenever he's had to sit down in the hard wooden desks at school.

He shivered slightly at the memory, and even considered backing down, but he couldn't. He was a grown man and his father had to realize that he couldn't keep telling him what to do anymore. "Look," he said, his voice quivering slightly, "I told you already that you don't have the right to punish me now. I won't let you do it anymore." He set his jaw stubbornly, trying to keep his anxiety at bay as he once again tried to pull out of his dad's strong grip.

"Looks like you're going to have to learn the hard way that I'm still your dad," the older man ground out through clenched teeth. "Now either you can walk into your room on your own, or I'll have to drag you in there. Now what's it going to be, mister?"

It seemed to Klint like his father had grown larger in the last couple of minutes, and as a trickle of sweat edged its way down his temple, he considered the two choices he had been given. The thought of being dragged was not something he thought his fragile ego could stand at this particular time, and so he aquiesced. "All right. I'm going," he replied sullenly as he waited for his father to release his iron hold on him.

When the grip was suddenly released, he stood for a moment rubbing at his arm through the sleeve of his t-shirt, and then turned on his heel and strode inside, slamming the screen door behind him. He knew that would only make things worse but he didn't care!

Once in his bedroom, he slammed the door viciously and then sat down on his bed to wait. His hands shook as he bent down to untie his trainers, and he was still pulling off his shoes when he heard a loud knock on his door. "Come in!" he called out angrily.

He scowled at his father, when he entered the bedroom, that is until he saw the folded up belt in the older man's hand. At the sight of the thick, black leather and the ominous sound of the jangling belt buckle, his previous bravado deserted him, and was replaced with an all consuming fear. His palms began sweating as his eyes remained fixated on his father's belt, and he opened his mouth to say something but a small squeak of terror was all that came out of his now dry mouth.

"Take your pants down, Klint," the older man ordered, and when Klint looked into his dad's face and saw the look of steely determination there, his heart gave a hard thud.

Time seemed to slow down at the moment he stood up and began to fumble with the clasp of his Levi's. He sent an appealing look to his father, but it was returned with a steely stare. "Hurry up, son," the older man said gruffly. "You know you brought this on yourself."

With a deep, shaky sigh, Klint unfastened his pants and then pulled them down below his rear end, leaving only his brightly colored boxers for protection.

He turned with a jerk toward the bed and clamped his mouth firmly closed, determined not beg or do anything else that would sabotage his earlier declaration of manhood. As scared as he was, he still obstinately clung to the belief that he had grown into his own independence and he was going to prove it by taking the belting like a man.

Just as he was lowering himself over the side of the bed, his father's stern words hit his ears, making him bristle with indignation.

"The boxers too. Take them down."

He jerked his head around in disbelief. He hadn't been spanked bare since he was nine or ten. "No! I'm not gonna do that. I'm too old for that, Dad!"

His father shook his head grimly. "You are not to old. Now either you take them down or I'll do it for you."

His resolve to take the spanking like a man, disolved then, as he looked over his shoulder at the man who had not only been his dad but also his best friend through the years, and he felt sad for a minute at how his vist had disentegrated to this point. The feeling passed quickly, and as he clutched the waistband of his boxers and gave them a sharp tug, revealing his tight, pale behind, he looked away in embarrassment.

With his back still turned to his father he lowered himself over the edge of the bed and grabbed onto a pillow with white-knuckled fists, and hid his face against the cool cotton of the pillowcase.

He heard his dad's footsteps as the older man approached and he automatically tensed every muscle in his body. When he felt his dad's hand on his lower back, he jumped, his heart racing like mad.

"Twenty licks," His father said gruffly. "And don't put your hands back or they might get hurt. Do you understand me, Klint? Do not put those hands back."

"Yes," he mumbled into the pillow, just wishing his dad would hurry up and get it over with.

There was moment of silence and then the hand on his back tightened.

SWAAACK!!

Klint gasped as the shock of the sting went through his body,and his hands tightened even more on the pillow.

The next smack made his handsome face contort into a mask of pain and he rolled from side to side trying to ease the wicked burn that the belt had caused his butt. He didn't cry out though, he was not going to give his dad the satisfaction of that.

SMAAACK!SMAAACK!

The next two swats came hard and fast, and the teen felt unwated tears begin to fill his eyes. He couldn't remember a spanking ever hurting this bad, and as he writhed, feeling the burn and sting intesify, he groaned a little into the pillow.

The spanking continued and as each swack of the leather belt fell on previously strapped skin, he groaned louder. "Dad You're hurting me!" he finally gasped out when he thought he could take no more.

The steady, hard strokes ceased momentarily as his father talked to him. "I don't like doing this, son, but you've been getting out of hand, and you've got to learn that I am still your dad, and no matter how old you are I will always be. Be still now."

Klint tensed once again, waiting, as sweat dripped down his forehead.

The belt cracked down onto the tender skin where butt meets thigh and he yelped with the pain, tears streaming down his face, as he tried to move his very sore bottom out of the line of fire. His dad's hand moved from his back to his waist and held him tightly though, effectively pinning him to the mattress.

He moved his legs up and down in a vain attempt to lessen the pain as the belt once more cracked down across the middle of his butt. "OWWWW," he moaned out, and when a loud a sob escaped him and he realized in defeat that he had lost the battle to take the strapping stoicly.

The last few whacks were nearly unbearable and he tensed his vulnerable bottom in a frantic efforet to lesson the impact of the blows. "I'm sorry, Dad!" he finally cried out depserately as the belt landed again on his scalded behind.

He hadn't been keeping count. There had been no way he could concentrate enough to do that, and so he waited tensely for the strokes to continue. When he realized the belt was no longer hitting his butt, he cried out with relief before releasing his grip on the pillow. "I'm sorry dad," he manged once more through is sobs.

He was still hurting so much that he was barely aware of his father helping him to his feet and pulling up his boxers, and when he was pulled close to his dad's chest for a hug, he rested his head on the older man's shoulder and continued to cry.

"It's all right now," the older man crooned softly as he ran a hand through Klint's hair in a soothing gesture. "You were just getting out of hand and I had to rein you back in."

"OK, I know that," Klint sniffled as he rested his head on the broad shoulder. "Everything is just so complicated right now, Dad. things are really hard at college." he sobbed once again and then hiccuped. "I didn't know it would be that way."

Slowly releasing the embrace, Klint's dad looked steadily into his son's eyes. "Why didn't you tell me that before?" he asked quietly.

His eyes still brimming with tears, the teen stiltingly replied. "I..I'm a grown man now and I need to..to figure out my own problems. I am a man you know, Dad." There was no resentment in the words this time, only a statement of fact.

The older man rethreaded his belt through the loops of his pants then put his hand on his son's shoulder. "You know, I still talk to your grandpa when I have problems, and it helps me to figure things out. You aren't ever too old to talk to your old man," he said with a gentle squeeze to Klint's shoulder. Then giving the shoulder a playful shake, he said lightly. "And you're also never to old for a little attitude adjustment either. Don't forget that mister."

Klint smiled weakly, no place left in his heart for resentment, and then shrugged. "You got the tree whithout me this year," he stated as he looked away. "I guess that bothered me too."

The older man sat down on his Klint's bed and them motioned him over. "Come on, and we'll figure some things out together, starting with your concerns about the tree. Come on."

Gingerly, Klint sat beside his father. His butt still felt like it was on fire, and he didn't think he had deserved a spanking at his age, but he had a lot of stuff that was bothering him. Maybe it would help to talk about it.

And even though everything in his life was changing and he was afraid that he wasn't going to be able to keep up, he felt a sense of security for the first time in weeks, as he sat in his childhood bedroom, which was still basically unchanged and talked for a long time to his father who had just blistered his tail. Life was really weird sometimes, he thought as he wrapped his arm around his dad's broad back, and told him about how things were going at the university.

Copyright © 2005 by Tris