The following story is fiction about how a youth becomes a man in a somewhat archaic way in a male dominated household.  The story contains scenes of spanking, strapping, and incestuous sex.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  Please remember that my fictional characters are disease free although not everyone is so that you should always use condoms for own protection.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to e-mail.

Learning to be a Man


It was time for bed and I was alone in my room.  I picked up the marker and marked out another day on the calendar – only another few months to my birthday when I would become of age.  I've been looking forward to that day for more than a year.  I know what you are thinking but you are only partly right.  There are several important milestones in man's life.  Some like getting hair on his dick, his first wet cum, his first fuck don't come with predictable dates.  Other, like getting a driving licence, first legal drink in a bar, first vote for the president and becoming a legal adult are all neatly flagged on the calendar.  This milestone was a family tradition and quite different from all the others.

It was a couple of years ago that I started to learn about things.  But let me digress and talk about my family a bit first.  My father, just like his father, was extremely traditional about how the family was structured.  He was in totally charge, completely and without question.  He was very strict.  Once I reached the tender age of seven, any and all misbehaviors entitled me a hot, red, bottom and payment was always prompt.  At the earliest opportunity after I transgressed, I would be spanked.  I was taught exactly what procedure I had to follow and I received additional punishment if I did not follow it.  My brother, three years younger was treated in exactly the same way.  Yes, it was strict but the rules were precise so my brother and I knew what was expected of us.

Back when I was seven, I was required to stand, stiffly like a soldier at attention, with my arms at my sides and looking directly at Father so that he could lecture me.  When he finished the lecture, I had to say that I understood or ask for additional information.  Once I understood I had to say: "I understand what I did wrong Father, please punish me with a spanking."  Then I had to undress completely and lay over Father's lap.  I quickly learnt that it was not good to struggle.  Father would recite some platitudes about this hurting him more than I or that he was sorry that I forced him to spank me.  He would take a firm grip on my little waist and then pound my little bottom with his huge hard hand forcefully so that I was in agony (like having gone to Hell) and bawling like I was trying to refill the ocean.  By that time, I was oblivious to the rest of the world.  When he stopped, I rubbed my blazing hot tail and did the spanker's dance neither of which helped but I could not prevent myself.  When I regained my senses, I would pick up my clothes and run to my room if we were home or dress if not.  In my room I would cry for hours.

When I was nine, it was another milestone for I was promoted (advanced?) to the slipper.  Everything was the same except that an old leather soled slipper was used while I was over Father's lap rather than his open hand.  It definitely hurt more.  At ten, I received a second promotion and after stripping, bent over with my hands on the wall, bed, couch or my knees with my butt stuck out for Father to beat with the spanking slipper.  Just like in those school stories (especially the British ones) I was required to be stoic and take it like a man and not cry.

It was when I was twelve that I was promoted to The Strap.  Actually, it was on old belt but it was wide and thick and heavy and supple from the neat's-foot oilings my brother and I were required to give it regularly.  Like for the slipper, I was required to present my ass for my punishment.  That strap really hurt and I would feel the lingering pain for days.

After I reached nine, if I had been good (or at least not found out) so I hadn't been spanked for a while, Father would offer me a maintenance spanking.  I really had the choice to accept or not but sometimes I did.  The maintenance spankings were less harsh and they help me stay on the straight and narrow so I learnt to take them when I felt that I was starting to stray to try to avoid a far harsher punishment spanking.

A couple of years ago I discovered that Father also spanked Mother.  I had gotten up to pee and I heard some noise from downstairs.  I saw that the 'rents bedroom door was open and that they were not there.  I guess that I was curious, so I slipped downstairs.  The basement door was ajar and there was light showing and then I heard more.  I knew the sound well – it was that of The Strap hitting a bare butt.  Fortunately, I could see into the basement.

I was shocked !

I saw Mother naked and bent over the arm of the couch.  There were red stripes on her bottom just like those I had seen on my brother's butt and my own butt in the mirror.  I watched, spellbound, and I saw Father raise the strap and bring it down hard on her bottom three more times.  I did not know what to think.  I stood there transfixed by the scene.  The question «Why is Father strapping Mother?» was foremost in my head.  I realized that I was being very naughty watching and maybe even just peeking the first time but I could not tear myself away as I was so mesmerized by the scene.  I crouched down in the dark corner to watch hopefully unobserved.

Mother was, of course, naked for her strapping just as my brother and I had to be for our punishments.  Father was just in his pj's bottoms.  I noticed how good he looked with his manly, muscular, in shape body and hoped that I would have one like it when I grew up.  He tossed the strap onto the couch and removed his pj's bottoms.  His cock was rampant, rearing up from his crotch, which was thickly covered with dark hair.  He walked behind Mother, and grabbed her hips lifting and pushing her forward which raised her pussy.  He bent his knees a bit and easily found her hole which he filled with his hard cock with just one hard thrust.  Mother groaned, either in pain or pleasure (I couldn't tell), as he plunged in and out.  His muscles, especially the muscles in his ass were flexing and rippling as he took her.  They went at it like they were dogs on the street (which I had seen).  They both made noise when they came.

"This maintenance spanking should keep you in line, Karly, for the week.  Of course, if you're naughty you will get a punishment spanking."

I ran upstairs to get back to my room and bed before I could be discovered and suffer getting my own butt seared once again by The Strap, for certainly spying was spanking offence.  Once in bed, I got the rag I jerked off in and reached into my briefs to relive myself.  I was surprised.  I had made a mess while I was watching and had not realized it.  I cleaned up and then jerked off twice reliving what I had seen.

A day later, when Father asked me if I need a punishment spanking, I told him I did and he gave it to me.  Fortunately, long before he had told me I was not required to explain why I felt the need for it.  "It is only important that you know why, not that I know why, Son."

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a few weeks later that I slipped and the 'rents learnt that I had been watching.  I had not been caught (fortunately for that would have earned me a hard strapping) but while talking with Dad about punishments I let it be known I knew that he strapped Mother also.  It was then that I also learnt that Grandfather strapped Grandmother the same way and when Dad came of age, he also had gotten to strap Grandma.  In fact, both Dad and Gramps, strapped both of their women.  I was also to be taught how to do to it my future wife and also both Mom and Grandma.  It was all part of a strict male dominated family structure.

The change did not happen immediately.  A year before my coming of age for this family tradition, Father gave me a long talk explaining it in detail and I was allowed to watch him strap Mother.  After I had observed a few sessions, I was given detailed instructions and allowed to practice on a cushion.  I was surprised at the various nuances in the how the leather impacted caused by even slight changes in the wrist and arm action.

I was anxiously awaiting my birthday more than for a legal drink or driving licence.  Unfortunately, I was not allowed to share this with anyone.

* * * * * * * * * *

The big day arrived and I came of age to be a man.  I certainly did not have a house yet but I was now considered a man within the family.  As a special birthday present to commemorate how special it was Father promised that I would be allowed to give Mother her weekly maintenance spanking.  Father would watch, naturally, but I would do everything.  The fates were generous to me for Mother received a traffic citation that very morning.

A traffic citation was her ticket to a punishment spanking and I was going to give it to her.  I really wanted to do everything perfectly and make Father proud of me so I spent a couple of hours writing the lecture I would give Mother for her offense.  It was exactly the same as if I had to write an essay for school, except I wanted it to more than perfect.  I also practiced with the strap with my brother closely watching for faults just like he did when I practiced some sport actions.

The time came, and the three of us went to the basement.  Father stayed in the background while I dealt with Mother.  It was a strange feeling as I stood there lecturing her while she was stark naked just like I had been when Father lectured me.  I had never felt so grown up before especially since she was not allowed to have pubic hair.  When I finished the lecture, I ordered Mother to get into position over the end of the couch.  I had careful checked out where I should stand to assure each stroke would be proper and effective.

The moment arrived for the first swing.  I raised the strap and brought it crashing down on Mother's raised naked bottom.  I marveled at how the red stripe formed for it was the first red stripe that I caused.  I repeated the operation several times and soon Mother's bottom was bright red, hot, and swollen.  She was crying.  Since this was a punishment, rather than the originally planned maintenance, spanking it was allowed as it had to be a through whipping.

I was excited through and through and then some like I never had been before.  I had applied my first strapping commemorating my status as a MAN in my family tradition.  There was one more thing.  I had not been sure that I wanted to do it but Father said that I would know what the right thing for me to do at the time.

As I stared at Mother's bright red rump which looked exactly like that of a baboon bitch's, I knew that Father was right.  I quickly opened my jeans and lowered my briefs.  My cock was rampant just as I had seen Father's on that first night I saw this happening.  Father had been absolutely correct that I would know what to do.  I was a MAN and there was a hot female presenting in mating position.  She was mine to take; to mark; to claim.  Father said she expected to be taken.  I did what I had to do; what my middle brain required me to do.  I shifted her forward and found her hole and drove my steel hard manhood into it with a great thrust.  I shot my load after only a few thrusts.

Father was beaming with pride for showing that I was a real man who was capable of being the master of my household.  I helped Mother up and held her until she stopped crying.  Her first words were: "My son is a man!  My son is a man!  My son is a man!"

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a couple weeks later that the folks went away for a couple of weeks.  Now that I was a man, they figured that they could leave my brother and I on our own for a few days.  The problem showed up just three days later when my brother brought home a test paper with a failing grade.  We both knew what Dad would have said and, more importantly, done.  I told my brother that he would have to wait until Father returned for his strapping.  I reminded him that neither of us could remember when Mom ever spanked us so spanking were definitely in Dad's domain.  He was not happy about that.

The next day, right after we got home from school he went at me with a will.  All sort of questions about why I would do it.  It was like he wanted to be strapped but not want to wait more than a week and then be uncomfortable for the dance that night.  I sympathized with him and agreed that Father never waited to spank us no matter what.  He totally rejected that I had not been authorized to do that.  He agreed that was the general rule but insisted that was for when I was a boy and Dad was around.  I had to admit that I had not been prohibited from such a course.

"Well are you a man in charge or a just little boy pretending to be?" he demanded of me.  That, of course, was a taunt designed to make me mad.

"OK.  OK!  You're getting strapped at bedtime.  Now go do your homework."

"Yes, Sir." he responded.  I liked how he called me "sir" although I wasn't certain that he wasn't teasing me.  No matter, he was going to get what he wished for.

We both got ready for bed and then he handed me the strap, removed his briefs and got into position on all fours on the bed.  I made the preliminaries fast as we had already gone through them.  I carefully worked out where I should stand and started.  I raised that strap and brought it crashing down on his upturned tail.  He howled.  A red stripe formed on his butt and I sprung a boner watching it turn red.

I waited almost half a minute before delivering the second stroke.  It was just as hard and the results were the same.  I was already proud how my little brother was taking these hard blows keep his butt up and waving at me.  I wished that I did not have to swing so hard and for the very first time understood what Father said about it hurting him to spank me.  It was very hard to deliver the remaining five strokes.  By the time I gave him the fourth stroke, I had hooked my briefs under my balls for my own comfort.

Then I was finished.  I had given him the eight strokes that were standard measure.  I dropped the strap.  Then his hot red rump called to me.  By now he had fallen on his bed with his face in the sheets but with his sexy red-hot tail stuck up like a target.  I imagined that his butthole winked at me and went for him.  Entry was surprisingly easy and once I was in I fucked him vigorously.  "FUCK ME!  FUCK ME!" he yelled and I did what he wanted.  We came and then came again eventually collapsing with both of us prone and him on the bottom.

Spent, I just laid on top of my little brother, his butt full of my jizz.  «What the fuck had I done?» I thought, «I had just raped him.  He did not even object.  What would I say?  What could I say?  Would he ever forgive me?» I wrapped my arms about him and he did not reject me.

I was totally unprepared for what he said.  "Thanks, Bro.  That was more wonderful than I had hoped it would be.  Thanks."  He was happy with what had happened.  I would have expected him to be in pain and very upset yet he wasn't.  "I wanted that for ever so long but I was afraid to ask you." he said.  "I hope that you do it again and again."

I was surprised to learn that my brother had wanted me to fuck him for a while and optimistically set a trap for me.  The failed test was fake to have a reason to get strapped and he had prepared by lubricating his hole in the hope that I would succumb in my excitement.  Two days later, when his tail had recovered, I strapped him again for lying.  I also comforted him all night.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. March 22, 2011

Your comments are appreciated.

See more of my stories at:  Nifty's Prolific Net Authors
    and on my web site: