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Date Posted: 12:07:18 04/20/17 Thu

I live in a fairly small town in the midwest, and, sometimes, I feel like I'm the only gay person in town. The town has only one barber shop: Victor's Barber Shop on Main Street. The shop employs 3 barbers, in addition to the owner. I had once heard somewhere that many gay men were employed in the barber profession. However, all of the barbers at Victor's seemed straight as an arrow. Whenever I got my hair cut there, the barbers would be talking about their wives and kids.

One time, when I went to get a haircut, all the barbers were busy with other customers, except for the owner, Victor, who had never cut my hair before. So, rather than wait until my regular barber was free, I decided to let Victor cut my hair. Victor was in his 40s, about 20 years older than me. He looked as straight as they come. He was not slim, but he wasn't overweight either. He was just built very "solid". I asked Victor about his family, but he said he was a bachelor. Something told me that Victor had been in the military. Perhaps it was because he kept his hair cut really short at a time when most men were letting their hair grow out. Or maybe it was because of his "no-nonsense" attitude. Don't get me wrong. Victor was friendly, but just not all that "chatty". During our conversation, Victor confirmed my suspicion when he revealed that he had spent a fair amount of time in the Army, but, eventually, he decided not to make a career of it. He told me that, after he left the Army, he decided to open up his own barber shop.

After Victor had finished cutting my hair, he asked me if I wanted a shave. Although I usually shave myself, I told Victor to go ahead with the shave. I was kind of intrigued by him, and I thought the shave would give me a little more time to talk with him and learn more about him. Victor had to sharpen his straight razor first. I was facing the mirror on the wall, and, in its reflection, I saw Victor lift up and stretch out the dark brown razor strap that was attached to the side of my chair. Then he ran the straight razor back and forth across the stiff leather of the strap. I told Victor that I had always wondered what those straps were used for. Victor said "That's one use for a razor strap". And I asked Victor, "There are other uses?" And he replied, somewhat hesitantly, "Well, yes, but I thought you'd know about that". Victor was acting kind of strange. I told him to go on. Then, he continued, "Until safety razors became popular, the razor strap was a standard item in most homes. In addition to sharpening their straight razors, razor straps were also used by most fathers to discipline their sons. My own father used a razor strap on me when I had done something wrong". I told Victor that the few times my dad punished me when I was growing up, he used his belt on me, and I didn't think anything could hurt worse than that. Then Victor replied, "Take it from me. A razor strap hurts a lot worse than a belt! They don't even feel the same. When you get punished with a belt, you feel the weight of the belt striking your ass, but when you get punished with a razor strap, you don't feel any weight hitting you. You just suddenly feel this terrible burning pain." Then Victor said, "I can't believe you've missed out on one of life's memorable (if not pleasant) experiences". I told Victor I can't imagine that a belt and a razor strap would feel all that different.

Then Victor lowered his voice so no one else could hear our conversation. "If you're really curious about it, I'll be glad to demonstrate the difference for you. Obviously, I can't do it here in the shop. It would freak out all the customers, but if you come over to my house this evening, I'll be glad to give you a demonstration. I keep a razor strap at home." I took Victor up on his invitation. Somehow, during my conversation with him, I got the suspicion that he might be gay. And I thought that meeting him in private at his place might lead to something interesting.

I arrived at Victor's house about 8 pm. After he invited me in, we both sat down on the couch for a while and talked. Victor suggested to me that, since it was a hot summer evening and we weren't in "mixed company", we'd both be more comfortable if we took off our shirts. So we both removed our shirts and then continued our conversation. After a few minutes, I suddenly realized that Victor's arm was wrapped around my shoulders. I didn't even notice when he did that. I was pretty sure now that Victor was gay, and I "got hard" thinking about where this might lead.

After a while, Victor asked, "Are you ready for that demonstration I promised you?" I said "Yes." Then he said, "I have a few things I want to explain to you first. When you were punished as a kid, your dad was so much bigger and stronger than you that you couldn't escape from the punishment. So, in order to create a similar experience, I'm going to tie you down on my bed so you can't escape from the punishment I'm going to give you. Is that okay with you?" I said "Yes". Victor continued, "When your dad punished you, you had to take the entire whipping no matter how much it hurt. So I'm not going to stop your punishment either until it's completed. Is that okay with you?" And, once again, I said "Yes". Then, he continued, "Lastly, I want to emphasize that the razor strap is going to hurt like hell. So please don't blame me for the pain. Just remember, YOU were the one who wanted to have this experience." I replied, "I promise I won't blame you."

Then Victor said, "I guess you're ready for your punishment. Take off your pants and shoes and lie face-down on the bed!" Victor's stern orders brought back memories of my dad's tone of voice when he was about to punish me with his belt. Victor tied me down securely on the bed with some rope. Then he said, "First, I'm going to give you 20 lashes with my belt." Victor unbuckled his belt and removed it from his pants. Then he doubled it over and began whipping my ass with it. I started crying after only 10 lashes, but Victor continued the punishment until all 20 lashes had been given. Then, after a short respite, Victor said, "Now, I'm going to punish you with the razor strap. You're going to get 20 lashes with it too." Starting with the very first stroke of the razor strap, I yelled at the top of my lungs. I wasn't prepared for the incredible burning sensation that overwhelmed me when that strap struck my butt. By the 6th lash, I was pleading with Victor to stop, but he would have none of that. He said, "I warned you beforehand that you would have to take the full punishment." Each stroke felt like a hot frying pan had been pressed against my butt. My ass felt like it was burning in the fires of Hell! I just screamed and screamed until the whipping was finally over with. I continued crying for a little while after the last stroke.

After I stopped crying, Victor released me from the ropes. I felt so weak after the whipping that I could barely stand up on my own. Victor helped me back to the couch. He took off his pants and sat down first in the middle of the couch. I had never seen a man with such a huge erection before! Victor told me to lie face-down on the couch and put my head in his lap. As I lay down, it was pretty obvious where he wanted me to put my mouth! Victor massaged my sore butt with his right hand while I "feasted" on his manhood. Victor later confided to me that the only time he got such huge erections was when he would punish a young guy like me with his razor strap, hear his horrible screams of agony, and then sadistically watch his desperate, but futile, efforts to escape from the strap.

Just before I left Victor's house, he said, "Now I think you have a pretty good idea what life was like when I was a kid. What do you think of the razor strap now?" I thought about it for a moment and then replied, "I'm only thankful that I didn't have your dad for a father when I was growing up!" We both got a little chuckle from that remark.

I made many more visits to Victor's house after that, sometimes for sex and sometimes just because we enjoyed each other's company. I told Victor that I thought of him almost like a 2nd father, albeit one I could have sex with. Victor liked that idea of being a 2nd father to me, and he took that honorary position very seriously. Just as my real dad had used his belt to keep me on the "straight and narrow" when I was a kid, so there would be times, while I was a young adult, that Victor would find it necessary to "apply" the razor strap to correct my behavior.

For the curious, this story is pure fiction.

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Why I Bare the Boys

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Topic: Why I Bare the Boys (Read 7381 times)

Jack

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Posts: 3779
Location: Bransom, TX

« on: November 09, 2017, 04:30:55 pm »
I was requested to address this topic. I believe the actual question is why I handle the actual baring. Let me start by saying that, while I do bare completely, removing pants and shorts, I have not always done that. That started about 10 years ago. I don't remember ever having a problem with Steve or Corey or Tommy having their pants slide down during a spanking. I would take their pants and briefs down t their knees, and they'd stay there. As the 90s went on, boys pants grew looser (and their short trousers grew longer). When I was raising Barry, Johnny and Josh, and Bryce, we started having problems with their pants and briefs sliding down and getting tangled up. That would have been about 12 years ago or so... not long after Bryce moved in with us. Beyond the tangling, I had several times when boys were getting up, rubbing and crying, and they tripped over their pants. Within the next year or two, someone told me that their son had tripped over his pants after a spanking, fell against a coffee table, and broke his nose. Considering I'd already seen the boys tripping, that was enough to convince me to start removing pants and shorts for spankings. I also don't always remove a boys clothes for him either, but let's come back to that. When my mom spanked me, back when I was under 10, she made me take down my own pants (and sometimes briefs). Later both my dad and Ralph did that. I honestly hated it. To be even more honest, when I started spanking my little brothers, they fussed and argued about taking their pants down, just like I had. I did it for them. I liked it. The twin facts that I like to do it, and that it gets things done without so much whining and complaining (and wasted time) would probably be enough for me to have stayed with it. However, I also think it's actually easier on the kids. As I said, I hated being made to bare myself. As a matter of fact, the person who asked me this question stated in his contact to me that, " I would be crying by the time I finally took my underwear off, (I was always very sensitive) so stripping myself was difficult. It made the fact that I was going to be whipped, REAL. " Let's take a second to differentiate here, since I don't always undress the boy myself. In my home, we're pretty casual about clothing. We've lived in this home for over 17 years now, and there has never really been a girl who lived here regularly or long-term (my sister, Amanda, had a room at our previous house, between here and me being married to Cathy, but by the time we moved in here, she was in her upper teens (she's barely younger than Steve, about the same age as Mikell), and spending nights and weekends with her big brother wasn't really a thing anymore). While a female might put a fox in the hen house, most of my boys and a lot of our more regular visitors are somewhat comfortable with nudity and their bodies. With the younger boys, they're not worried about me seeing their body (which I probably just saw in the bathtub last night), they're worried about how much worse the spanking is going to hurt with no protection. It's different with older boys. Let's be honest, most of Curtis' shoes are either slipons or have velcro fasteners. He can tie his own shoes, but it's still hard for him to get a good knot, and his absolute favorite, blue light up shoes, only came with ties. So I often get to tie them for him, when we're going someplace he can wear them. In the same way, he likes me to help him get his pajamas on after his bath, and I sometimes help him finish dressing if we're starting to run close on time. Also, I help him get undressed for his bath in the evening. Connor sometimes gets some of that treatment, but not nearly as much as Curtis. Why? Because he's more coordinated than Curtis is, and is better able to do it himself. Doing things for themselves is one of the ways boys (any people, I suppose) measure maturity. Having things done for you can be nice, both for the help, and because sometimes it's nice to regress a bit and be pampered. Still, as boys get older, they become older and more physically mature, their dignity becomes more important to them, and being undressed like a little child goes from being a comfort to being an affront. That doesn't even consider that boys are becoming sexual (or aware of their sexuality) at about that same time, which can make the idea of being undressed even more stressful. Because of that, once boys reach middle school level, I start giving some consideration to allowing them to undress themselves. Usually if a boy of around 12 or older asks, I'll give him the chance. With a boy who's definitely growing up, or who seems very uncomfortable or shy, I may very well give them the chance without them asking. Then again, if I do give them the option, I expect them to do it without arguing or delay. As boys get older, especially once they're old enough to be offered paddle swats or restrictions, I pretty much allow them to do it themselves, and they pretty much know to get it done. Yet, there's still another exception. When an older boy has been acting in an especially immature way - whether through one especially bad incident or a recurring problem - I will let them know how disappointed I am with them and why, and then I'll spank them just like a much younger boy, including undressing them myself (but with an age appropriate implement, of course). This was not a consideration when I started doing this, but I think there is a certain amount of truth to it. The simple fact is that, when a kid gets in trouble, he's rebelling against his authority figure. When that authority figure steps in and the kid has to allow himself to be prepared for his consequences - he's having to submit himself to that authority figure again. I didn't think of it for years, and I doubt even an older kid would think of it, but I think there is a certain amount of truth to that. So yeah - while this probably rambles a bit (it's taken me over 24 hours, in several sittings, to write it), I think it pretty well deals with my thoughts on the issue.

Zyngaru

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Posts: 2029

« Reply #1 on: November 10, 2017, 03:05:21 am »

Jack

Administrator
Hero Member

Posts: 3779
Location: Bransom, TX

« Reply #2 on: November 10, 2017, 04:23:10 am »
Thank you, Zyngaru. I had actually come back this morning to break it down a bit, only to find you'd already done it for me. As for taking some time to do it, you are partially correct. In large part, having some crazy weather these days, and having daylights savings time only recently end also has me sleeping more than usual, and despite Daniel's help at the store, I'm actually finding myself just as busy as ever (though a large part of that new business is very enjoyable - like the volunteer work at BCA). When the question was asked, I was also asked how I do it. While that's been described in many of my stories, I don't see any reason not to give it a quick break down again. Let's assume a boy dressed for cooler weather, but who's been inside for a while - socks, long pants, normal underwear, a polo and an undershirt. He was wearing a hoody and shoes, but those have already been removed before he got in trouble. Depending on how the polo fits, and whether it's tucked in, I may start on his pants. Let's say he's untucked it, and it's pretty long. If I can tell he also has an undershirt, then I will probably have him raise his hands and remove the polo shirt. Then he will have to hold the t-shirt up, well above his natural waist (possibly all the way under his arms, which does more to keep his hands out of the way than anything). With clear access to his pants, I will undo the belt first, if he's wearing one. I will then go to the zipper. Using my left hand, I will spread the fly to expose the zipper, then use my right hand to take it down. Then I will undo the button (which can be stubborn when the zipper's still done). Then the pants will be lowered to the boys knees. If I'm preparing two
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