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Of Dads, Sons and Razor Strops:
Spring Break In Mill City


PJ Franklin <>

The further Dad drove us away from the concrete and pavement of our upper middle class city suburban paradise, the more resentful and pissed off I felt. I wanted to spend time with Dad, I liked my Dad, I really did, but sometimes he did the most frustrating eye-rolling boorish things with me, like now.

We were headed for some damn cow and pony farm a hundred or more miles away from civilization to spend some of my precious spring break from school just because he thought it was going to be "good clean fun!"

What the fuck?! It may have been entertaining when I was five or ten or even thirteen, but not now! I was sixteen for God fucking sake! Was my skateboard in the trunk of the car? Nope! Not allowed! Could I bring my Nintendo with me on the trip? Nope! No electronics allowed, not even my new Sony CD player and headphone set I got for my birthday four months before, God forbid!

Know what he gave me to read? Comic books … COMIC BOOKS! Like he used to read on long trips with Grandpa. Nobody my age read comics anymore and if they did, they weren't old tattered remnants of Batman or Superman or the worst, Archie and his fucking friends, all of them decades old!

I looked at him, no, I glowered at him as he kept two hands on the wheel of our family sedan slowly chewing gum and barely driving the speed limit on the interstate. The car's radio was playing some kind of oldies that he enjoyed and I did not!

"Watch out Dad, you might get pulled over for speeding!"  I snottily commented and then pulled up a book I was allowed to read as a comic book alternative, hand picked by my male parental librarian.

It wasn't too bad really, a "classic" or so Dad said written by some old geezer named Mark Twain or some such. I was a very good student, but I didn't read old geezer books if I could help it and I couldn't at the moment.

Dad looked at the speedometer, smirked and chuckled a little back at me,

"Speeding? I'm going just the limit Cory, you must be unable to see the dial son, we better get your eyes checked or better yet, how about a haircut son? Maybe your long hair is interfering with your vision. Besides, we're going to God's country after all, I doubt they appreciate your long locks!"

I flipped my proud blonde locks out of my eyes, aghast at the thought and wisely left the subject of my hair in God's fucking country alone. No WAY I was getting a haircut just for a weekend trip to Hootersville! I settled on rolling my eyes a little hoping that he would forget about haircuts and changed the subject,

"When we gonna eat, I'm getting hungry Dad, how 'bout a McDonalds drive-through?"

"Oh, you'll survive. We'll be in Mill City soon, I want to try out the diner on Main Street, I hear they got great milk shakes. Better than McDonalds by a long shot."

I let out an obvious frustrated and well mumbled, "Fine … whatever Dad."

* * * * * * * * * *

The pathetic Mill City city limits sign was finally in sight, population fuck nothing and Dad slowed from barely driving to a turtle crawl on account of some damn Mill City sheriff with nothing to do but sit in his cruiser and try and pry greenbacks from big city wallets like Dad's.

Dad parked and we walked. I felt like I was on the set of some old country backwater sit-com but it was all too real. Thankfully, I saw the diner's sign not too far distant as my stomach was barking at me. But suddenly, Dad stopped in front of an old-fashioned barbershop, the kind with that old-fashioned candy cane cylinder thingy out front!

"Well, well, well, what do we have here Cory, a barber, hey?" and walked inside.

"Dad? Hey Dad! We gotta eat, remember?" I said, petrified to follow him. Not only was the place open for business but there were boys inside getting haircuts, mostly younger boys, but I saw one looking my age already in a chair by the looks of it too!

I tried to wait him out but now he was talking to a few of the men inside and shaking hands and laughing with them and oh shit this was going to get out of hand! What to do? But that question was quickly answered by some poor boy's pissed off Dad,

"Jeffers! I told you twice already to stop squirming around like a five year old or I was gonna give you a whipping on your bare ass right here and now! You are on real thin ice boy!!"

A whipping on his what? I drifted into the front door of the shop on autopilot expecting the kid getting his ass reamed to be a young idiot but all eyes were on the older boy in the chair with dark black hair that to my eye was not long at all!

He was NOT happy and then we made eye contact I was not in any mood and took it upon myself to grin at him guy to guy as if to say, "Sucks to be YOU dude! LOSER!" He got my drift and his face got super red. I was showing him up!

"You tol' me I could wait another month to get a cut Pa! Come on! It's not like I look like him down there!"

Suddenly all eyes were on me, including Dads! Oh fuck!

"That's IT, I have had enough of YOU this day, get down here now boy! Ben, where's that spare strop you keep for our young problem children in your shop?"

All hell broke loose, at least in my mind.

"Pa! No! I'm sorry! Please! I'll get a cut, it ain't that important! Please Pa!" the boy pleaded and I had never heard or seen the like in my city-life . I found myself rooting for his Dad, not him! I wanted to see this punk get his ass whipped on the bare in front of everyone. What kind of sick fuck wish is that and why did I have it? But I did!

"Hangin' right up there Hank, use one of those chairs, just turn it around and deal with your boy as you see fit!"

Jeffers' Pa plucked up this kinda shiny looking long wide and thick piece of leather that looked lethal. My dad had swatted at my butt with his hand here and there and once gave me a few swipes with a belt a few years ago that hurt like hell, but nothing, nothing like that monstrosity!

"Jeffers, HERE, NOW BOY!"

I looked at Jeffers' face and saw nothing but fear and loathing and yes, respect for the predicament he was in. His eyes pleaded with me and my stomach clenched, guy to guy.

Suddenly my perspective changed and all I could do was helplessly shrug at him and be VERY glad it wasn't me getting a public beating. Was this even legal? What the fuck was I thinking? This was Po-Dunk America, not New York City for God's sake!

My Dad slipped back to where I was standing, but he was just as riveted as I was. The scene quickly developed and Jeffers, looking totally cowed, slipped down his blue jeans and his white boxers revealing his bare ass.

My eyes bulged at his nakedness, the whiteness of his skin and then after his father said a few much more calm words at him, the boy flopped over the back of the chair, holding on to the seat edges for dear life.

I surveyed the room and everybody's eyes were staring at Dad and Son. The younger boys furrowed their foreheads, chewed their lips and fingernails, feet nervously jumpy and eyes seemed all sheepishly empathetic.

Then the boy's Pa swung and the sound of leather hitting bare tender boy-ass hit my ears like a giant explosion and within five rapid licks poor Jeffers was whimpering and sobbing and knees jumping. Jeffers' ass was rapidly accumulating giant wide crisscrossing red welts.

"PLEASE PA PLEASE!" Jeffers finally howled, sounding more like a girl than a boy. I couldn't take it any more and tried to look away, but I couldn't! Worse, my fucking dick was getting hard! Fucking damn! OK, I was horny all the time anymore, but from this? No! Not from looking at a boy my age getting a public whipping!

Jeffers' Pa finally added the final licks and then helped his son up. Jeffers' face was red as his ass, wet snot easily blown into his Pa's offered handkerchief and then they hugged! Right there in front of all of us, they hugged! My mouth flew open; I had no reference point at all for this!

Tell you one thing. That shop was dead silent as Jeffers was allowed back his clothing to cover his nakedness and he kind of limped back to the barber chair, meekly asked the barber for his haircut and then sat very gingerly down on his sore ass as the barber slung a large white sheet thing over his front side.

He barely could look up and when he looked at me, I saw the look of a boy who had been put squarely in his place. And yet, he looked calm, even peaceful. I don't know why but I needed him to know that I felt for him at that moment and kind of half-smiled at him. I would never see him again, so why not?

I looked at my Dad, sidled up to him and kind of sheepishly asked,

"Can we go eat now?" thinking it was good timing.

Dad looked at me, "No, not yet, you are getting a hair cut Cory, just like his," meaning Jeffers'.

Well, talk about the tables turning. I blushed, I did.

"Um … Dad, good joke!" I said very haltingly, starting to panic a little.

"I've got that chair right next to Jeffers ready to go Steve, the barber said using my Dad's first name!"

"Get in the chair Cory and I mean now!" Dad said to me with a very stern, curt voice.

Then I looked at Jeffers and damn if his mouth did not curl up at the side enjoying my sudden discomforting predicament. All the younger boys looked at me as well and I could not afford any further loss of face.

I decided to try and cut my losses and try to influence the barber, I sure as shit did not want something as short as Jeffers was getting.

"A little off the sides please, "I quietly said as Dad had sat and seemed distracted by the colorful local newspaper.

"That's not what he said Cory!!" Jeffers suddenly blurted about as loud as he dare looking very pleased with himself.

"What? Huh?" Dad said looking up at me, "Do not be giving anyone lip Cory! I may not know how to use that leather strop, but I can sure learn how in a hurry son!"

Oh … my .. God! I was pissed at Jeffers and then looked at Dad, "I didn't say that, he did!" I complained and then gave Jeffers a sideways glare, one that he had no problem returning.

Dad held up his hand,

"One more Cory, one more and you won't be sitting very nicely in that diner son! Cut him down sir, all the way down!" Dad told the barber, shook his head side to side and then pulled up the newspaper again.

Oh fuck no!! No! No! No! and from the corner of my eye I could see Jeffers grinning ear to fucking ear. Shit! Fuck! Damn! I was not going to let some local yokel kid get the best of me and then I really stepped into it …

"Fine, do it and you can just get that shit-eating grin off your face buttwad!" I commented to Jeffers.

"Excuse me son?" the barber said thinking my comment was aimed at him instead of Jeffers. Dad looked up, slammed the paper down on the seat and stood.

The room silenced again and Dad's hands were ominously firm on his hips,

"THAT'S IT! You are getting a good tanning Cory Michael Phillips! I am sick and tired of your self-centered attitude this day!"

I started to shake and instantly went into little boy mode and had not done that in a long time!

"Dad! No! I meant that for him, not him!!"

"I don't care WHO it was aimed at, I am tired of it! Now who can help me get this boy's attitude adjusted!" and just then Jeffers' Dad stepped forward, "This way Steve! I'll be glad to show you how to put your boy in a better space of attitude!"

"NO! DADDY PLEASE DON'T!" but Dad grabbed my ear and made me get down and walk with him towards that awful whipping chair.

"Get 'em down son, jeans and shorts, bare your butt!" he said to me with an authoritative voice I don't think I'd ever really heard before!

I sunk to my knees with no dignity what so ever and just then caught Jeffers shit-eating grin out of the corner of my eye, shaking his head knowingly side to side. I could not do anything about that now. I put my hands up prayerfully and begged my Dad,

"Please, please Dad, OK … I'll do it, OK? I want a hair-cut, a real short one too, I'll show you!"

Dad pointed to the chair, "Don't make me take your pants down myself boy, because if I do, you will be VERY sorry son!"

I was defeated, finished and humiliated seemingly repair, hoping for the floor to swallow me up just like in some dumb horror film, but it did not. My chicken shit dick was certainly nowhere to be found now, limp and shriveled for sure!

I stood, already sobbing and that was the worst, I was being a wimp and couldn't stop it at all. My tears were already running as my trembling hands were unfastening my jeans. I shucked them down and with them my blue print boxers, faced the chair and imitated Jeffers' death grip on the sides as I bent over the back.

My mouth turned into the biggest pout ever and my tears were dropping onto the chair seat as Dad was practicing using that awful strop. The room hushed just like in those movies before they throw the switch on the electric chair. Dad sidled up to me,

"Hold on tight son … I'm sorry I have to do this, but we are guests in this fine place and you crossed the line."

I shook all over and wanted it over so badly just then,

"I'm sorry Daddy, I really am, please … please don't," I said softly and truly meant every word.

It took just one lick placed across the center of my really city-tender ass cheeks with that strop to learn me that I was going to suffer. It stung deep and hard and I bit my lower lip so hard that I whimpered at myself. Then Dad got into a rhythm and I started to shake, tremble, sob and finally cut loose as my legs started to jump and kick,

"Noooooo! Daddieeeee! OUUUUuuuUUU! Nooooo!" and broke down in racking sobs as Dad whipped my sorry ass from the top of my cheeks to my sit spots with lick after lick of fiery pain.

Fortunately, it didn't last too much longer but I knew one thing for sure. I hadn't taken hardly half of the number of licks that Jeffers had and yet, as Dad helped me up, I felt a certain kind of, well, peace and maybe a little pride. I faced my father,

"I … I'm … thanks Dad, I'm sorry I embarrassed you," and just stood there. Dad looked at me, came forward and hugged me,

"You did great Cory, but please let's not do that again soon, OK?"

I nodded, sniffed back my snot and then quickly dressed myself and headed back to the barber chair, head well down, my mind's tail tucked tightly back between my legs. I managed to look up at Jeffers and instead of taunting me as he might have deserved, he smiled at me,

"You did good Cory, that strop ain't for sissies you know!" and I nodded at him grateful for the accolade and funny, I felt like I knew him a little bit now.

Oh boy did it hurt to sit and then it started to itch as the barber stripped me of months of carefully grown blonde locks but as he did and the air started to get to my neck and above my ears after months and years of long hair, I felt kind of liberated really, but then a new problem was growing … in my pants. Fuck!

Jeffers got finished and got down from the chair and did so carefully. When I looked at his pants, I'll be damned if he didn't seem to have the same problem as me.

"Jeffers, get your ass down to the diner 'fore I whip your butt some more," Jeffers' Pa said to his son.

"Yes sir!" Jeffers said, looked at me with a half-cocked grin,

"See ya around man" and then they left. I was kind of sorry to see Jeffers go, but then remembered that they were already down at the diner that Dad wanted to eat.

Shortly after, I was finished as well and walked out of the barbershop with Dad, me feeling pretty strange really as we walked down towards the diner. I looked at Dad and was about to say something but I stopped myself.

Dad somehow looked different or was walking differently or something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it just then. I quickly recalled all the crap I had been giving him all day long until my haircut and felt sheepishly sorry, even to the point of thinking to apologize to him when he looked up at the clear blue sky,

"Now this is living!" and I had to smile, "Sure, seems like it, huh Dad?"

He looked at me just then and stopped walking and looked thoughtful,

"Cory, I'm … well, I'm sorry I had to do that back there, I really … " and I cut in quick-like,

"No Dad, I'm the one that's sorry. I deserved to get my can roasted in front of all those boys and men," and then stood with him on the sidewalk rubbing my still sore behind. He slipped his arm around my shoulder, something he seldom did back home,

"I sure do you love you son," and then looking down to the sidewalk with a sigh, looked up ahead,

"Say, did you like that young man Jeffers? He sure seemed like a nice kid, his Dad too."

My mind was still stuck on "I sure do love you son." Oh, Dad had told me he loved me lots of times before, but not after the worst whipping of my life. Somehow the words felt more … more deep or something this time.

"Yea! I mean … maybe they're down there at that diner, maybe we can eat lunch with them or something?"

Dad smiled at me, "That's what I was thinking son, come on!" and he slipped his arm around me and I did the same, slipping my arm around my old man's shoulder and we covered the rest of the way to the diner, just like that, me and my Dad.

When we got through the diner's door, I quickly down up and down the long rows of booths and spied Jeffers, but he saw me too and shot out of his seat and come up to us,

"Hey! Sir … Cory, how about you fellas join us, huh?"

He was grinning ear to ear as if nothing had ever happened back at the barbers, but then he looked at me, reached up and ruffled my hair, "Nice haircut … DUDE!" and giggled.

I grinned and said, "You too … DUDE! … come on Dad!" and I bounded with Jeffers ahead of Dad.

We joined Jeffers Kolb (pronounced "Cob") and his father, Paul. Dad re-introduced himself and me as Steve and Cory Bannister.

I scooted in next to Jeffers in the somewhat smallish booth, Dad next to Jeffers' father on the other side. I couldn't help but squirm and wiggle on my still sore (and now itchy) ass, but so was Jeffers. I swear neither of us wanted to touch the other but the booth was kinda small and it couldn't be helped, but my dick was starting to come alive again and my knee touching his was not helping what-so-ever to keep control if it!

Dad and I ordered burgers, fries and shakes and then Jeffers said,

"Hey scoot out Cory, I need to pee real bad," and I did and then he looks at me and tilts his head, "Don't you too?"

I didn't know if it was peeing I wanted to do just then, but I got his drift and we excused ourselves as if Dad and Mr. Kolb were listening anyway. I followed Jeffers to around the back of the diner and which abutted a slightly steep hillside and we went scrambling over the top of it and over the other side. It was heavily wooded.

"Where the hell you taking us man?" I asked. He stopped and pointed to a large-trunked tree, "Over there, that'll do".

"All this way to pee?" I asked.

"No sir … I need to get off real bad. That whipping set my dick to making me need to jack off. Sorry if you don't need to, but I think I saw that you do," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the whole world. Well, maybe it was!

Now I never had jacked off with anyone, much less after a whipping, then again I had never had a whipping like I had that day. I didn't argue with Jeffers. I knew that he was right.

He stood on one side of the tree trunk, me the other. I shucked my trousers and shorts down just enough and heard him do the same.

My sexual fantasies were all over the place lately, girls of course, but for no known reason, all I could see was Jeffers Kolb's red whipped tail in my mind's eye as I pulled on my pud and it didn't take long for a long, hard glorious orgasm to wash over me like a blanket of high-rolling goodness.

I shot my load like a good six-foot away, grunting away like a dirty dog. Jeffers did the same from the sounds of it.

We put ourselves back together and he took us back. I said nothing, neither did he, but my mind was awash in a sea of some things I had never felt or thought before about myself.

The burger, fries and shake at the diner put ol' Mickey D's to shame and quite frankly I was rapidly getting used to Jeffers Kolb's company as the shared lunch ran out.

"So, where you boys headed anyway out this far from where you live?" Paul asked my Dad.

"Well, I had booked a few nights at a kind of working farm not far from here, the Young place, I think" Dad said fumbling in his jacket for the brochure.

"Oh that place? That's pretty nice. They got lots of working animals and such. Ol' Lester Young is a good man, so is his wife and daughters. You'll have fun there."

I sat back and drummed my fingers on the table. Jeffers knee nudged me and I looked at him. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Them is the ugliest girls this side of shit creek, good luck with that."

I could not believe he said that and a big grin crossed my face just as my Dad said,

"Well what do you think son?"

I could tell he was having second thoughts about the Young place for whatever reasons, but I took advantage,

"I'd rather hang out with Jeffers and his Dad if they wouldn't mind!" and Dad looked at me, his hand came up and ruffled my hair as he looked at Mr. Kolb grinning ear to ear,

"Could you stand some city-folks at your place Paul?"

"Of course we can! … but it ain't all pretty like the Young place, is it Jeffers!"

"Naw, but we can have us some fun!"

I couldn't believe it. Hardly a good hour ago I wouldn't have given fifty cents for the whole of Mill City much less a guy like Jeffers Kolb. I had already suffered a public ass whipping with a razor strop with him in the local barber shop, jacked off my randy dick with him in the woods in back of the diner and now I felt like he and I could become close friends. It was time to start spring break in Mill City!

PJ Franklin

© Copyright PJ Franklin April 17, 2011

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