The latest episode of Justice for Joel has been posted at the Sore Bottomed Guys blog
He leaned back and gestured at me, seeming to come to a decision.
“Take off the rest of your clothes.” I kicked off my shoes and wrestled
with my belt, rushing before he could change his mind.
Based on the results of the JockSpank poll: “Does Levi Johnston deserve a spanking?”
It was not supposed to be like this, when he had agreed to participate in the TV poll “Should Levi Johnston be given his own Reality TV show, or should he be spanked live on National TV?”, he never imagined for one moment that the answer would be a resounding “He should be spanked live on national TV!”. In his swollen headed arrogance he had been so certain that the nation would go wild at the prospect of a Levi Johnston show that he had invested what was left from what he had been paid for the PlayGirl shoot and what he had made from the sale of his book “Deer in the Headlights” together with everything he could borrow, into advance merchandising, none of which would now be sold, leaving him with huge debts, all of which would have to be paid back.
As a result he had no option other than to go ahead and take the spanking in return for the paltry fee the TV studio had offered. It was either that or he would have to deal with some particularly unpleasant loan sharks, who would in all likelihood do considerably greater damage to a considerably greater number of his body parts. At least after the spanking he would still be able to walk (and breath), if not sit down for some while.
He couldn’t believe that the chicks would not have saved him, and what about his legion of gay fans, surely they would prefer to see him in his own reality TV show rather than getting his bare ass spanked, …… gradually the flaw in that particular argument began to dawn on him.
It hadn’t started too badly, East Coast Democrats in places like Vermont and Massachusetts, still delighted that he had pissed off Sarah Palin had voted for the reality show, but they were a rare exception not joined in any significant numbers until residents of the the crazier corners of California began to vote. Meanwhile, throughout the central fly-over states, the cry of “SPANK THE BRAT!” could be heard from sea to shining sea, growing louder as the states became redder. “Fucking Tea Party” snarled Levi under his breath.
However, the vote was by no means split on party lines, America’s demographic is changing and in many multicultural urban areas, which would usually vote solidly Democrat, people voted in droves to see the white boy get his little pink butt spanked. Likewise, cities with large gay populations like New York, Miami and San Francisco voted for the spanking, few gays may vote Republican, or be fans of Levi’s one time mother in law to be, but they are first and foremost gay, and they had all seen that butt in PlayGirl. If Levi had understood the power of advertising, given his low pain threshold, he would never have risked participating in a vote where him receiving a spanking was an option after posing for all those extremely spankable bare bottom pictures, or that shower video.
When the results had come in they were devastating, and a clear indication that Levi’s high opinion of himself was not widely shared. A gigantic 90% had voted to see him spanked, the reality show was the choice of a tiny, and primarily rather eccentric,10%.
Bad news, they say, often comes in threes, and it was certainly so for Levi, firstly some joker had stolen his clothes from his dressing room while he was taking a shower, leaving him with only a small white towel similar to that he wore in the PlayGirl shoot, to cover his young naked body.
Then ,when the security guards had finally dragged him to the studio, who should he see but Todd Palin wearing a huge, very smug, grin and tapping a large hairbrush against the palm of his hand. It turned out the TV channel had asked if he would deliver the spanking, and he had waived his fee!.
Thus it was that the handsome, but very unhappy Levi Johnston, one time school hockey jock, D list celebrity, nude model and relatively unsuccessful writer, found himself face down across the knee of his one time prospective father in law, in a network TV studio, wearing nothing but a skimpy white towel.
The towel did not provide protection for very long, as a gleeful Todd immediately reached down and firmly lifted it up revealing the very tempting target of Levi’s bare 21 year old bottom.
At that very moment seismologists with particularly sensitive equipment would have reported a slight tremor running across the nation, as, in unison, two hundred million viewers moved closer to their TV sets, had they not all been watching their own televisions or live streaming at the time.
Levi hung his head in shame, his face glowing hot and pink with embarrassment, and with the horror of knowing his total humiliation was about to get infinitely worse.
“Good evening Todd …and .. uh.. Levi!” rasped an unusually animated Anderson Cooper “Welcome to Network TV’s one off, 90 minute, prime time event “Levi Johnston Spanked Live”
“Well Hello Anderson!” replied a cheerful Todd Palin, while a miserable, humiliated, and delightfully bare bottomed Levi just glowered silently.
“As I say, this a 90 minute live show Todd, are you up to it?” asked Anderson Cooper raising an already arched eyebrow
“Don’t worry Anderson, I’ll fill that slot, with footage to spare” grinned Todd “When do I get to start?”
“When you are ready!”
Todd was more than ready and did not need to be asked twice. He immediately raised the hairbrush above his head, before bringing it down with a stinging “WHACK!” on Levi’s quivering pink butt cheek, followed within nano-seconds by a ringing “SWACK!” across the other inviting and equally trembling butt cheek.
“YAAAAOOOWWW! ….. AAAAGGGHHOOW!” yelled Levi “Stop, I’ve changed my mind!”
But there was no going back, Todd Palin was not going to stop, and the TV networks had sunk too much money into the show to let an arrogant little twerp like Levi to wriggle out of his obligations. Levi’s protestations were ignored, he was getting spanked like it or not.
The blows continued to rain down on poor Levi’s exposed and vulnerable behind with a loud “WHACK!! ….WHACK!! …SWACK!” Levi was mortified, not only was he being publicly humiliated by being spanked naked, like some little kid, in front of a national TV audience of millions, plus a syndicated worldwide audience in numbers he could only guess at, but it also stung like fucking hell!!!!”
By now Todd was really enjoying himself, he was 110% straight, yet few things in his live had been quite as pleasurable as was toasting Levi Johnston’s plump little tush, it was something he had looked forward to for a very long time, and he was going to enjoy every moment, with each blow he paying back the good looking little jerk for each slight and slur he had inflicted on the Palin family, and compensating for all the hurt the young asshole had caused. This thought reminded him of all the things the young varmit across his knee had done over the last three years and Todd continued to belabor the swiftly reddening rump with added vigur. “WHACK!! ….WHACK!! …SWACK! …WHACK!”
As Anderson Cooper watched Levi Johnston’s bare legs kicking in the air and the piston like rotation of Todd Palin’s spanking arm, he became aware of a odd, but not unpleasant sensation swelling in his lower body, which to his amazement he swiftly identified. This was most unexpected, he was a member of a particularly refined liberal social and political elite, a scion of a socialist dynasty to the far left of the Democrat party, a debunker of birthers, a scourge of the Tea Party and, until now, a lifelong opponent of corporal punishment. Yet, contrary to a lifetime of experience and against his better instincts, he was for the first time considering the possibility of being attracted to a Republican.
It would take months with his analyst before he was able to determine which of the two men in front of him, and which of their respective positions, Anderson found most desirable.
Finally, Todd threw the hairbrush to the floor, however, Levi’s ordeal was far from over. A significant number of voters had chosen the supplementary option in the poll which said that Levi should be “paddled until he cried”, and Todd was determined that they should get what the voted for.
He ordered Levi to bend over and then picked up a large leather paddle.
“It make no difference kid” chucked Todd Palin guessing at the cause of Levi’s reaction, “They already knew you were an asshole, they are now just seeing the evidence!!”
With that he delivered a thunderous “TWHACK!” across the centre of Levi’s reluctantly proffered bottom, eliciting a highly satisfying yowl of distress from the miserable and bending 21 year old hunk in front of him.
The show would rank among the top ratings hits of the decades, in state after state parks and town centres were empty, as from homesteads and apartments in every city every town and every rural community could be head shouts of “SPANK THAT BRATT!” … “LET HIM HAVE IT!” …. “WHOP THAT ASS!” Followed by whoops and loud burst of applause. With the exception of a small number of anti-spanking campaigners, and sundry misguided do-gooders, the vast majority agreed that the networks had rediscovered a lost art of entertainment, and in general they applauded the deal the main television channels had made with HBO and various cable channels, enabling then to change established policy, and broadcast images of male nudity at prime time.
As Todd watched the sobbing Levi rubbing his still cherry red bottom, which resembled nothing so much as two little ripe tomatoes, he had the satisfaction of knowing that a not only well deserved but also long lasting punishment had been inflicted. He smiled to himself reflecting on the fact that although the sting would eventually fade from Levi’s smarting young bottom, the sting to his ego would be an unwelcome companion for years to come.
As an added bonus, Todd knew his wife would be in a very good mood that evening!!
Note: The story involves spanking and other forms of Butt punishment
By the artist Franco
For the test Dr Smythe gave the robot a one word command program instead of writing a list or a grouping of basic, functionary commands. This word (program) was known only to Dr. Smythe so as not to compromise the test in any way.
The M-38 executed it’s task flawlessly, easily deciding the best methods with which to prepare and present the subject and volunteer assisting with this critical experiment; Junior Research Associate, Jimmy Orbbs, the youngest member of Robotron’s research team. Mr. Orbbs was initially, quite excited to be part of this test.
As the test progressed, the entire research team was impressed with the abilities of the M-38. Even Robotron’s previous model, the M-37 was able to follow and document the entire process with interest. Dr. Smythe deemed the experiment a complete success!
However, Jimmy was not at all enamored with the test and voiced his displeasure. As the experiment progressed, the usually cooperative, Mr.Orbbs became less and less willing to proceed and became quite adamant about halting the test.
Resistance proved futile, as the M-38 responded to the junior researcher’s un-cooperative behavior by briskly applying, (at length), a wooden ping pong paddle squarely across Jimmy’s bare, upturned posterior, thus giving our junior researcher his first, spanking ever in his young, thirty one years.
“It’s kind of an antique,” I continued, “but I’m sure it’ll still do the trick!”
“Noooooo, Dad. PLEEEEEEEASE!“
Jerry took the stout wooden brush and passed it down the line.
Paul hefted the hairbrush admiringly, and offered it to Mike.
“Well thanks, Paul,” replied Mike with mock courtesy while Rusty trembled in miserable anticipation. “But I think you should have first crack, so to speak. After all, it was you who went with him to all those smoking cessation classes”
Turned towards the floor, Rusty’s face began to look a bit hopeful again. The men’s jovial banter made it seem like maybe they were only kidding around, and weren’t really going to spank him with the hairbrush.
The boy was wrong!
With a rush, tears were in his eyes and then running down his face.
“Bawhawhaw!” the teenager sobbed. “Hawwww! Hawww! I’m sorry. Bawhawwwww!”
CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK!
“Owwwwww!” He moaned. “Pleeeease. Un-cle Paul! Aaaaah!”
“Will…CRAA-AACK!… you…CRAA-AACK!… stop…CRAA-AACK!… smoking…CRAA-AACK!“??? Uncle Paul demanded.
“YES!” Rusty cried out. “Yes, Uncle Paul. STOP! PLEEEASE!“
“I’m not gonna stop this spanking until I’m sure you’re gonna quit smoking!” Paul said, his voice definite.
CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK!
Rusty’s uncles took turns blistering his scorched backside with the relentless brush while the others held him down.
Finally, it was over. A broken, sweaty boy lay sobbing unrestrainedly across their laps
“OK, Rusty,” I announced. “Turn around and show your uncles your bottom. We’ll let them decide if you’ve had enough.”
Rusty turned, obviously greatly embarrassed and displayed a very red and tender-looking backside for the men on the couch to admire. His face was wet with tears, and the boy’s expression was a mixture of fear and hope — he clearly did NOT want to get spanked any more.
“I think that’s one of the reddest butts I’ve ever seen, ” exclaimed Paul with a grin. “What about you, Jerry?”
“I don’t know if it’s THE reddest,” joked Jerry. “I see a couple of pinkish spots that could stand to be touched up a bit with that hairbrush.”
“UNCLE JERRY!” Wailed the boy. “NOOOOOOOOOO!”
This caused a good deal of general amusement.
“Nah. I think the boy’s had enough,” remarked Mike. “What about it boy? You think you had enough?”
“Oh yes, Uncle Mike!” gushed the boy. “Please don’t spank me any more!”
“So, you think you’ve learned your lesson, have you Rusty?” Jerry passed me the hairbrush, and I tapped it against my open palm.
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. I’ll quit smoking. I SWEAR!!!” The boy rubbed the flaming surface of his bottom.
“All right then, son.” My voice was gentle. “Come here and give me a hug.” The grateful boy threw his arms around my neck and sobbed quietly as I hugged him close.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I really am.” He whispered in my ear. I held him a little longer and then released him with a final squeeze.
“OK, Rusty. I believe you.” All of a sudden, I felt very proud of the boy.
“Go give your uncles a kiss, and then off to bed.” It had been a while since Rusty had engaged in the bedtime-kiss ritual with his uncles, but he didn’t hesitate to obey. Smiling, the men stood up, and one-by-one, the naked young man hugged them, pecked them on the cheek, and whispered a heart-felt promise.
And then, a very chastened boy, with a thoroughly sore backside scampered — almost happily — off to bed to sleep on his tummy…safe in the knowledge that someone cared.
Click here to read the whole story
I note that some visitors have not been very impressed with the image quality, :-)) all I can say is the pictures were made almost ten years ago, and were my earliest attempt at PhotoShop.
“Don’t make me come over there and get you, boy.” I said in my gruffest voice. “You don’t want to see what happens to your butt if I have to come over there and get you.”
“Please, Sir.” Rusty begged, his voice on the edge of tears. “Not in front of my uncles, Dad! Please!” The men on the couch chuckled, and the boy’s face burned with shame.
Slowly, Rusty made his way across the room and lowered himself across my lap. I patted his butt and noticed that it was still hot from the earlier spanking.
I punctuated my words with a couple of hearty spanks to the boy’s tender buttocks.
“They’ve done nothing but treat you well… Take you places…buy you things. But, more important, they’ve taken care of you and been there for you whenever you needed or wanted anything.”
SMACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The boy’s head popped up with each spank of the hand. He did his best to keep his face turned away from the men on the couch, but his sobs and muffled cries were still plainly audible. I could see tears in his eyes — whether of pain or humiliation — it was hard to tell.
I plastered the boy’s upturned butt with merciless, stinging swats. His legs kicked furiously.
“Hoo boy, Rusty,” Chuckled Uncle Mike. “Your little butt shore is gettin’ red!!! I reckon those cheeks are gettin’ about as red as those tomatoes we planted last summer.”
“Ow! Ow! OW! Dad!! PLEASE!!” Rusty pleaded. The three men on the sofa nodded appreciatively.
“I’m thinking that this spanking is WAY overdue, how about you, Jerry?” Uncle Paul asked nodding his head. Rusty muttered something indistinctly from his daddy’s lap.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
“Seems like a boy Rusty’s age woulda learnt his lessons by now ‘bout keepin’ his word when he promises to quit smoking. But, I guess it’s never too late to give a boy the discipline he needs to help him get back on the straight and narrow!” Uncle Jerry commented dryly while the almost-naked boy squirmed and whimpered over my lap.
Rusty shot me a look of alarm over his shoulder.
“Stand up boy,” I barked. Rusty backed off my lap clumsily and got to his feet, wobbling like he was a bit dizzy.
“Get those stupid little girly panties off…NOW!!”
“Hurry up, boy. I know you don’t want to piss me off any further.”
Turning away, Rusty shame-facedly peeled the offending thong over his tender, burning buttocks.
As I left the room, Rusty turned to look at me with pleading eyes.
…a thong bikini!
“DAAAAAADDD!!!!” The boy squealed in surprised mortification. He was obviously as embarrassed as I was surprised.
In retrospect, I’m not sure why I was so astonished by the fact that the boy had on the kind of tight little garment that I’ve seen strippers wear. It was like the boy was mocking me. Here I was trying to teach him a serious lesson about smoking and respect and keeping his word, and out pops his pert little tush in hooker’s gear! It was like I had been MOONED!
And it only made me madder!
Blood boiling, I grabbed him by the arm and jerked him back over my lap.
“Please, Dad…Sir. Not on my bare butt! I’ve had enough…Sir. Please don’t spank me any more!”
Without a word, I lit back into his naked butt cheeks with renewed vigor. The sound of hand on bare flesh was completely different from the way it sounded on the seat of the boy’s shorts.
“OWWW!” The boy howled. “Please, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Suddenly, it dawned on me. It wasn’t just me that this boy had disappointed with his failed promises to quit smoking. There was the matter of his Uncles — his mom’s brothers. Those guys had been incredibly good to him after her death. They felt her loss probably more than any of us, and they looked after her son as if all their love for their sister and been transferred to the boy. They took him to games. Went camping and hiking with him. Supported him in Boy Scouts, attending several father-son events that I couldn’t make. These guys have also tried to get Rusty to quit smoking. In fact, it often seemed like the most important thing in the world to them was that he be safe and healthy. It was like losing him would be the same as losing their sister all over again.
So, I got an idea.
I paused, my hand hovering over the boy’s upturned butt.
“Oh, Dad. I’m really sorry. I mean it, Sir.” His tone of voice sounded like he thought it was over. But, something didn’t quite ring true. Somehow I could tell that he thought he had gotten off lightly.
“THIS time I’m really gonna do it, Dad. Honest. This time I…” I cut him off with a meaty slap to his unsuspecting backside.
I walked over to the desk and placed a few calls while Rusty looked on — embarrassed, perplexed, and very very nervous. In harsh tones, I ordered the boy into the corner and told him to think about why he had been spanked.
Grudgingly, he shuffled over to face the wall, but he didn’t have to wait long.
“Ok, Rusty.” I motioned the boy to resume his position across my lap. “We aren’t done yet.”
In all the years of his childhood, I had never spanked the boy. I always believed that spanking was rather abusive and that it taught kids to solve problems with violence.
But, here he was, stretched across my lap, yielding to my authority! There was an expression of mild surprise on his face, and the only sound he made was of quickly exhaled breath when I landed my hand across his bottom.
It was a hot day, and I could smell the masculine odor that wafted from the cleft of his ass. The musky smell was oddly intoxicating. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I became entranced by the sight and sound of methodically slapping the boy’s upturned butt. I never felt so connected to the boy as I did in this moment.
Gradually, Rusty began to emit little grunts and moans.
As my confidence grew, so did the intensity of the spanking. I began to put more shoulder behind the swats, and I could tell by the little jerks and grunts, that the spanking was starting to have an effect. This only egged me on further as I increased the strength and frequency of the swats.
Rusty was now really starting to react. He pushed up on his forearms like he wanted me to let him off my lap. I pushed him back down and held him there while I put full force behind the smacks on his squirming butt.
My hand landed squarely across both cheeks on the fullest portion of his lower bottom. Rusty gasped, and a quiet “Ow!” escaped him.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I began spanking in a circle all around the seat of his under shorts.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“I am going to spank you until you can’t sit down, boy!” Perspiration was starting to bead on my forehead. “I am going to spank you every day of your life if I have to get you to stop smoking! Do you hear me, boy?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll quit this time. I promise! I’ll quit for good!” My heart swelled in my chest. I’ve always considered myself to be a ‘modern’ parent, and I’ve never required my son to call me ‘Sir.’ But this felt good…really good.”
“How am I going to know you mean it, Rusty? I’ve heard the same thing from you a hundred times. How do I know you mean it?” I gave him three really hard swats.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Ow! Daddy, please. That hurts!” There was a distinct whine in his voice now, with an edge of desperation.
I placed my right hand firmly under his chest and lifted him suddenly to his feet.
“Let’s have a look. I want to make sure this spanking is having the proper effect.” I noticed a dampness around the boy’s eyes. “Pull down those shorts and let me see your bottom, Rusty. I want to see what effect this is having.”
“Aw, Dad. Come on. I’m not gonna show you my bare butt. Jeezus!” There was a distinctly worried tone to his voice, and he tried to pull way.
“Get back here, boy, and show me your bottom, unless you want to get back over my lap and we can continue where we left off.”
“No, Dad. Please. I’ve had enough.”
“Alright, then. Let’s see those cheeks.”
“Maaannn,” he replied in a little boy’s complaining tone. He turned to show me his butt. But, instead of pulling his shorts down as I had expected, he pulled them up to expose the lower swells of a richly pink pair of freshly spanked cheeks.
“When I tell you to do something, boy, I expect you to do it.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“OW!! Da-aaad! Shit! That hurts!”
“I guess, while I’m at it, I’m going to have to teach you some respect!!”
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” He wailed. “I’m sorry, Dad!”
“Call me ‘Sir,’ boy. When I’m disciplining you, I expect you to speak to me with absolute respect! Do you understand me!?”
“Yes, Sir. OW!! Sir! I’m sorry, SIR!” His voice was shrill.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“That’s better! Now let’s have these down.” And, with a sudden jerk, I pulled the boys boxers all the way to his knees. But, instead of a naked, well-spanked bottom, I discovered…
End of Part 2
(to be continued)
Click here for part 1
The text is by Strictop and the pictures were among my very earliest attempts at PhotoShopping, hence apologies for their somewhat amateur quality. It is a bit of fun from a long time ago but Strictop and I hope you will enjoy it
Except for one thing, that is. The boy smokes. Despite all my efforts when he was a little kid to teach him how dangerous it is, and my own example of quitting smoking when he was very little, he picked up the habit in junior high school and has been unable or unwilling to quit. He’s 18 now and has already been smoking for five years!
I wonder if it has anything to do with his mother? She died in a car wreck when he was in first grade and it had a terrible impact on him. She was quite a heavy smoker and could always be seen with a cigarette between her delicate fingers. I’m pretty sure his smoking is hooked up with how angry he is at having lost her.
But, of course, no matter how bad he feels about losing his mom, and no matter how bad I feel for him, it’s no excuse to fuck up his own health.
I’ve tried everything I can think of to get him to quit. I’ve bribed him with money for not smoking. I’ve grounded him. I’ve taken away his car keys. I’ve yelled at him until I’m blue in the face! And nothing seems to get through to him.
It’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to himself. He’s the first one to admit how stupid it is to smoke. He seems honestly to feel bad about how angry and disappointed his smoking makes me feel. He promises to quit. He even asks for help. And he does quit for a little while. But, he always starts up again.
So, I guess it shouldn’t have been any surprise when I came home and caught him red-handed, standing in the middle of the living room, with a cigarette in his hand! It was like he WANTED to get caught.
I blew my stack.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Rusty!” I bellowed. “You’re at it again!”
He didn’t say anything. He just stood there looking at me with those sad, resigned eyes of his as smoke curled beside him.
“Nothing I do seems to make any difference! I’ve nagged. I’ve pleaded. I’ve punished you for smoking and rewarded you for quitting. But, it’s the same thing every time! You promise to quit, and then start right back up again.” I was starting to feel angrier than I have ever felt in my life.
“It’s like you just don’t give a shit about yourself or about me!”
“B-but, Dad,” he stammered. “I try! Honest I do. It’s just too hard.”
“Too hard?” I exploded. “TOO HARD?! I’ll tell you what’s ‘hard!’ Watching your only son fuck up his health. THAT’S what’s ‘hard!’ Being lied to over and over by the boy you’ve raised by yourself, the boy you love more than anything in the world! THAT’s ‘hard!!'” I tried to put my arm around the boy, but he turned away.
“Aww, Dad,” he whined, “You just don’t understand.”
I was overcome by a mixture of tenderness and rage. And suddenly I knew what I had to do…
“Get those blue jeans off!” I thundered. The power of my own voice surprised me, and I was amazed at the effect it had on Rusty. His eyes kind of glazed over and he immediately undid the top buttons of his jeans. There was no hesitation. There was no protest. Just immediate obedience.
I pressed on, unwilling to lose momentum. “Go ahead and take those jeans ALL THE WAY OFF! I’m going to do something that I should have done when this all first started.”
“You’ve had this coming for a long time, Son.” My voice was low and firm. Almost like he was hypnotized, Rusty stripped down to his boxer shorts.
Before he could protest, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over my lap on the sofa.
End of Part 1
(To be continued ………)