A Switch in Time On My behind (standard:humor, 901 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Apr 03 2022	Views/Reads: 810/550	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I have tried to combine these two verses throughout my life. Each situation demands a lot of thought, and I’ve tried to give my thoughts a lot of room.

Recently, I was reminded of my father's passing 12 years ago. It's funny
how time quickly goes by, and then something happens to remind you of 
the past. 

When I was growing up, spankings were normal. And, for someone like me,
those spankings were quite regular. Today my father would be arrested 
for all the spankings he gave me while I was growing up. At that time, 
something was wrong if you didn't get a spanking. 

When I was in the fifth grade, my schoolteacher happened to have been my
father's schoolteacher. I'm afraid she wouldn't pass today because she 
also believed in spankings, as did our elementary school principal. 

I remember when we went to class right after some bill passed saying we
could not pray in school. Our fifth-grade teacher stood before the 
class with the spanking stick bouncing it off her hand and said most 
arrogantly, “Let them come to my class and tell me I'm not allowed to 
pray.” I would not have wanted to be that person. 

Home rule was simple; if I get a spanking at school, I get a spanking at
home. That's just how it was, and I had to learn to live with it. 

Quite often, our schoolteacher, before the day began, would stand before
the class with the spanking stick and remind everybody that she was in 
charge and if you didn't do it her way, you would get the spanking 
stick. Sometimes we were sent to the principal's office to get a 
spanking. I would rather go to the principal's office than have my 
teacher spank me if the truth were known. He knew when to quit; she 
didn't. 

After a spanking at school, my father was informed about my spanking.
When I got home, he was standing there, ready for me to come in, and 
escorted me to my bedroom, where he honored me with another spanking. 
He didn't know what I got spanked for, and it didn't matter to him. The 
spanking at school meant a spanking at home. That was the rule. 

I tried to figure out ways to keep my father from knowing about the
school spanking, but that was impossible because my teacher knew my 
father. 

During that time, I did not have an advocate in the situation of home
spankings, that is, until one day. 

Growing up, I loved hunting, and usually, it would be for rabbits. That
was the vogue in those days. 

Because I loved hunting rabbits, I needed a dog. So I got a beagle and
trained him to hunt rabbits with me. So we made a good team. We spent a 
lot of time together, so there was that deep bond between a young boy 
and his dog, almost like “Old Yeller.” 

One day, as usual, I got into trouble. I can't remember the trouble, but
it's not important now. What is important is that the trouble inspired 
my father to donate a high-class spanking to me. 

I was outside near my dog pen and saw my father come toward me angrily
waving his belt. I knew exactly what was in store for me, and there was 
no place to run. And if I did run, I would sooner or later have to come 
back home. So the best thing for me to do was to wait and take my 
punishment like a boy in trouble. 

No way was I prepared for what was going to happen next. 

As my father came closer, I could hear him yelling, and he was waving
his belt in the air, and it would not be too long to get to me. 

When he got to me, he continued yelling and began the spanking session.
Even he wasn't prepared for what was going to happen. 

Suddenly, I heard my dog, Sparky, bark as I had never heard him bark
before. He was chained to his pen, which would assume a great deal of 
safety from the dog. But not Sparky. 

Before I could process it, I heard Sparky yell and lunge forward, and
then I heard the chain break, and he was on his way to my father. I'm 


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