Out in the woodshed, waiting for dad to escort his son in for a “chat.”
My Dream Shed!
Donahue Senior led his boy to the woodshed with a firm grip on the back of the boy’s neck. Clif was trembling a little, sniffling, nervous. He’d been begging his dad to lengthen his curfew to midnight over the summer now that he was out of high school, and his dad had agreed if he got a summer job. Clif had done so, and his dad was pleased, but now he’d erred. Clif had been invited out to a lake party with some friends, drank a little too much beer despite being under 21, and lost track of the time. He came home at 1:15 in the morning to find Donahue Senior reading the paper in the living room.
Clif began to apologize profusely, but his father said “son.” and that was all he needed to say. Clif shut his mouth and lowered his head. He let Donahue Senior lead him outside. The day his son was too old for spankings was the day he handed Clif off to his future husband who would take his place. He’d known Clif had been gay since he was 5, but as his father, he was determined to instill some old-fashioned values on him.
They got to the shed and the father turned on the light. He took the stool and the belt out to the side of shed, next to the wood pile. Clif sniffled miserably. Disappointing his father had been worse than the guilt. He watched his father lay the strap across it. When Clif began to undo his pants, he was confused when Donahue Senior told him to stop. He handed Clif a bottle of leather oil and a cloth.
“You made a mistake tonight, son. You not only broke the law drinking under the legal age and risked driving intoxicated, you flagrantly flaunted curfew and lost track of the time. You’re almost a man, Clif. You’re learning about how much you can get away with in life, but you need some reminders about limits. Now, this strap is stiff because I haven’t had to use it on you in a long time, and I’m proud of that. I want you to sit there and oil that strap and the bench and think about what you did and how you can be more careful next time. I’ll be out to check on you in a bit. If you do a good job, I will take some marks off your punishment. You’re gonna get a couple, but I want the alcohol to wear off first.”
Clif hiccuped. “Thank you, thank you very much Sir.” At least he’d be able to sit down somewhat tomorrow.
“You’re a good son, Clif. I got into a fair amount of trouble when I was your age myself. I have high hopes for you as a man. Don’t disappointment me again.”
Clif hung his head. “Yessir.”
“Good boy. I’ll be back.”
He left the boy there to contemplate his wrongdoings while trying to stay awake. Thirty minutes later, he came back to find Clif’s hands stained with oil but the strap and bench gleamed with his efforts. Donahue Senior tested the leather and admired how it creaked. “Damn impressive job, boy.”
Clif managed a little smile. “Thank you Sir.”
“Alright, I was gonna give you 30, butt I’m gonna cut it down to 10. Can you manage that without throwing up all that booze?”
Clif winced. “Yes, and thank you Sir, but I have to piss.”
Lightweight. “Take off your pants, then go do it in the corner by the tree there.”
He watched his son remove his pants, then shuffle over to the corner, and remove himself from his underwear. Donahue Senior then he heard the stream hit the ground. He had to chuckle. Clif must have drank a lot, it went on forever.
Eventually, Clif shook the last drops off and obediently got into position over the bench. Donahue Senior walked over behind him, tugged down Clif’s underwear, and admired the sight of that supple ass. Shame fucking your son was illegal in most states. Clif was growing a pretty impressive set of balls that would be fun to play with. He’d definitely make a man very happy one day. Donahue Senior shoved a hankie into Clif’s mouth, braced himself, and strapped him. It was out of love, more than anything, because he really did want what was best for him. He believed that men learned best that way, through physical correction. It a personal secret that it also gave him a throbbing erection. God, he loved that sound of leather striking flesh.
By the end, the tears had started and the red rectangles were appearing on Clif’s ass. Donahue Senior took a tube out of his pocket and massaged some salve into the burn. He hiked up his underwear and gave his son his pants back with the salve in the pocket, and once Clif was dressed, pulled him into a reassuring hug. He wiped Clif’s eyes and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “You did good. I’m proud of you, and I forgive you.”
“T-t-thank you Sir,” he sniffled, “I’m still really sorry, too.” He paused, “The beer wasn’t even that good.”
His father coughed out a laugh. “If you’re curious about beer, just ask. If you’re gonna drink it, might as well drink the good stuff. It’s best in moderation anyway.”
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thank you Dad. You’re the best.”
His father beamed at him, his chest filling with pride. “Thank you son. Now off to bed with you, it’s late.”
Donahue Senior nodded and watched Donahue Junior delicately walk back to the house. Once the adrenaline wore off, he’d be mighty sore. Clif’s father returned everything to the shed, but he didn’t turn off the light right away. Instead, he sat down on the bench, took his impressive prick out of his jeans, and milked himself dry.
From his bedroom window, Clif stared at the light on in the shed and wondered what his father was doing in there. After past strappings, sometimes his father would linger in the shed, but Clif figured he was just rearranging things or dusting, but why now, so late at night? He adjusted his crotch from side to side. Getting spanked made him horny for no reason and his underwear felt cold and damp. He also felt disgusted at how much it turned him on to have his ass up to an older man like that…even if that man was his father.
He briefly wondered if his father ever wanted to fuck him. It felt like he did, but why hadn’t he? Clif shook his head, realizing what he was thinking was kind of gross. Still…. Clif remembered what his father said, about the beer – If he was curious, he should just ask. Well, he was curious about sex. His father could teach him about that right? The young man tossed his head to clear the fog. God, once he was in college that autumn, he was going to find himself a big, dominating man and get that urge taken care of. He was a virgin still, and his cherry was growing ripe.
Clif was nice and hard now, but his ass was starting to throb. He sighed, let the curtains fall back into place, and went to brush his teeth and take a quick shower before bed.
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Text is fictional. Source I think is here, a het spanking Tumblr. I do wanna say that I often feel kinda weird writing incest stories because incest normally implies a lot of psychological dysfunction and possible child abuse; however, this is erotic fantasy, so for the sake of fantasy, so I’m going to declare that the Donahue men are sane, consenting, and no one is getting any lifelong mental scars …and no one is getting pregnant.
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