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What a great time we had the night before. My best buddy, also a Spanking Dad, and I invited two of our favorite spankees over to my place for a evening of disciplinary fun. We started off with a two dad/two brat scenario. We spanked our brats together; we spanked each other's brat; and eventually made them spank each other.  We positioned them OTK, over the arm of the sofa and face down on the bed.  We used hand, hairbrush, belt and a spatula.  Between sessions we broke for pizza and beer.  It was a memorable night.  The brats left about 2 am and my buddy & I crashed naked, exhausted and happy into bed. The following morning I slipped on my robe and headed for the kitchen to make coffee followed by my buddy in his boxer shorts.  While searching for mugs, he came across my hidden stash of 7 unopened letters from the IRS, the last 3 of which were registered and had required my signature. "Why are you getting registered letters from the IRS?" "Don't worry about it.  It's nothing" "The IRS doesn't send registered letters for nothing.  What's going on? and Why are they unopened?" Embarrassingly, I explained that I hadn't filed my federal income tax for a while.  In answer to his next question, I sheepishly admitted "3 years". "Are you crazy?", he barked.  "They could garnish your wages which might cause you to lose your job.  And worst case scenario, you could be arrested." "I know all that. I've been meaning to get around to it." "For all you know, they might have already started proceedings which you won't be aware of unless you open those letters". "I've been a little afraid to open them."' "Are you hoping it will all just go away?" "Something like that, I guess" "Man, talk about someone who needs a damn good spanking!" My hands instinctively reached back to cover my ass.  "Now don't get any ideas". "It may be the best idea I've had in years". At this point in my life, I hadn't been spanked in 12 or 13 years and I had never ever been threatened with a real spanking for real reasons.  Admittedly, the present situation caused a blush in my face and a slight arousal under my robe. I stood there speechless not wanting it to happen and wanting it to happen at the same time. "Well?", he said. What do you want me to say?" "I want you open those letters immediately or so help me I'm going to spank you until you do". Believe it or not, guys, all those spanking clichés are not so cliché after all as I blurted out, "You're not serious?" To prove that he was serious, he walked over to my desk where I kept my instruments and retrieved my hairbrush.  He placed the tip of the brush on the letters.  "Are you going to open them or are you going across my knee?" It was decision time. Do I tell him to mind his own business or do I fulfill a life-long fantasy? I still wasn't sure he would actually go through with it but I had to know. Defiantly, I said "I'll do it when I feel like it". "Okay, you had your chance".  He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me over to a kitchen chair. He sat down and flung me across his lap.  I started to get up but he pushed me back down.  With one hand on the small of my back, he draped one leg across both of mine. Effectively, he locked me in place. "You can't do this, John.  I've been a Dad now for almost 15 years and Dads don't get spanked". "They do when they act as foolishly and as irresponsibly as you have. And I'd much rather see you spanked  than hauled off to jail." He lifted my robe and exposed my bare ass.  He landed about 25 smacks with the brush across my bottom until I was squirming and howling.  It hurt a lot more than I remembered.  Now I wasn't so sure that I wanted my fantasy fulfilled.  "Please. John, stop." "You have one way only of getting me to stop.  Are you going to open those letters?" My ass was burning and my eyes were wet from the sting. My body was ready to give in but my inner brat kept reminding me that the likelihood of a situation like this arising in my lifetime was next to nil.  I had to know how we would take this.Like the whining brat that I always knew I was, I said "You can't make me do what I don't want to". "We'll see about that". Both John and I knew that I could forcibly put a stop to this any time I chose to. But since I was responding as if I didn't have power to resist, he decided to continue. He dropped the hairbrush, lifted my robe over my head and off, unlocked my legs and dropped the letters on the floor directly in my line of sight. He began using his brawny hands on my rear. I began squirming and kicking my legs and whimpering.  Years before this I had learned a muscle relaxing technique that allowed whatever emotions a body was experiencing to bubble up to the surface and out.  I employed that technique at this point. After about 10 minutes or so of solid hand spanking and scolding, my whimpering got louder and soon began to turn into sobs.  The sobs turned into tears streaming down my cheeks.  That was enough for me.  I picked up the letters and began waving them about.  "Alright, alright.  I give up.  I'll open the letters". "When?" "Right now, I swear it." He kept me across his knee for a few more minutes while I caught my breath and my sobs subsided. The he gently helped me stand on my wobbly legs.  While I was rubbing my bare ass, he pulled out another kitchen chair and said "SIT!" "You know perfectly well I won't be able to sit until at least tomorrow." He moved to my desk and retrieved a pen and then to my sofa for a pillow.  He placed the pillow on the chair and again commanded that I sit. I gently eased my butt onto the pillow. The heat from my ass warmed it immediately.  He put the last received letter in my hand and told me to open it. He was right, of course.  The threats he mentioned were there but there was still time to avoid them. A form was enclosed which he ordered me to fill out requesting an appointment with an IRS agent.  after I signed it, he placed it into the enclosed envelope, sealed it and put it in his pocket. "I'm going to mail this myself to make sure you don't accidentally lose it.  Now, say 'thank you, John for being such a good friend and giving me the spanking I deserved'." "Oh, c'mon, John. I feel embarrassed enough." He didn't say a thing. He just folded his arms across his chest and stared me down. "Okay! Thank you, John, for being such a good friend and giving me the spanking I deserved." "That's better!".  Now, gather up all your tax records because I'm making an appointment with my accountant and we're going together there to get you up to speed and ready for your IRS session.  Now, what do you say?" "Thank you, John. I really do appreciate it". "Even the spanking?" "Yes, even the spanking." Neither of us ever admitted that we both got caught up in a real-life scenario that we just had to see through to the end. or that we both thoroughly enjoyed it. However, being my very best friend, he spent the next hour massaging my ass with Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion which we both could freely admit we enjoyed.rver unreachable

Not sure what the etiquette here is, but while there are several makers of really good paddles and straps out there, my all time favorite is spankinc.ca, whose proprietor, Daniel Vachon, is a master craftsman and very fair businessman. You do have to pay the cost of mail from Canada (his shop is near Montreal). He made a custom paddle for me several years ago that has since been my #1 go to implement.

Hey all Men Who Spank and boys with sore bottoms, I've been writing my new blog up called "Cornertime Confidential," and I hope you'll come visit, comment on the site and generally help advise me on content and images and video you want to see on the blog. Today's blogpost: "...And I suppose if I'd just done as I'd been told a thousand times before, this wouldn't have happened either. I was sent to bed immediately after this spanking, nursing my red fanny and thinking...well, at least now I know why they make boys briefs with a double seat. They're great protection for spankings too!" Read more: http://cornertimeconfidential.blogspot.com/ (# . #) bad boy jake