A Funny Afternoon After A Lot Of Trouble

This is a small continuation of the story "Four days = Eight Spankings, part four.
This is not a report on a further punishment from me.
It is a story about the fact that this day is not just my botty suffered. But also my father's. Not so much as my little butt. But still, he had pain for a few minutes on his backside ... and it fills me with a certain satisfaction and makes me smile with glee until today.

Even if this story is not a spanking story, I put them anyway into this group.
If someone does not like it, I apologize. But I have found no other suitable place for it.

After lunch, my father had to return to work in his office. I should play as long in my room. What I also did very well behaved and quiet for nearly an hour. I really had enough of punishment. So I was on this afternoon nothing further to anger my father again. Despite these good intentions, I could not prevent that my father once had to scold me. But first things first.

In my room, I was getting boring. I did not know what I should still play. I had played with my wooden train, painted, towers and houses built. Established a whole Lego city ... and so on ..... before I fell over dead from boredom, I remembered that my number eight was not reunited with their colleagues and friends. She was still in my jacket pocket, and waited patiently for their liberation. I got down our stairs and quietly walked past the office of my father. This took just answer a phone call. My aim was our laundry room.
Because our boots, jackets and pants were very dirty and wet from the garden, my father insisted that we entered our house through the laundry room. I suppose my father did not want to do to clean the floor, Or listen to the bleating and grumbling from my mother when she discovered that their holy and clean floors were again become dirty.

I reached the door leading to the basement of our house. I slowly opened it and .... swallowed. My heart beat up to my neck when I saw the dark stairway in front of me, that seemed to lead into the dark cave of a monster. The monster seemed to be at home. For it gurgled and growled, sometimes louder and becoming quieter times. Then suddenly there was a hissing, humming to himself monotonous. An icy shiver ran from of my head down my back. Fear shook me by leaving goosebumps on my body. The monster seemed to wait for me. It was hungry and lusted after a young boy like me. Horror my hair stood on end, I frantically shut the door and ran, stumbling to my father. Breathless, I stopped in front of his desk and ignored his warning glance.

In a loud and trembling voice I said, "Daddy I need my car but ... but in our basement is a monster and I ... I ..." "Please wait a moment, Doctor Schneider" my father held his right hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone receiver and said softly and earnestly, "Robin please wait!" He held the phone back to his ear and said, "I'm back, Doctor Schneider so as I said. I've read through the contract again and I also think that we .... " "Daddy, please ... I want to play with my car ... but the monster wants to eat me, it ..." A stern glance of my father brought me to silence.
My dad was probably not care that we had a very bad cellar dweller who was just waiting to pounce on me and devour me with skin and hair. Uncomprehending and disappointed I looked at my father, who continue telephoned unimpressed by my distress.
I took a deep breath and just wanted to point my father one more time on the danger that lurked in our basement .... but before a single note left my lips, I thought of my little butt.
It felt just the right temperature and again without pain .... so it should stay. Therefore, I swallowed my discomfort and my complaints down and stood a little while quietly and obediently before my father's desk.

I looked interested, about the things, which stand or lay in front of me on the table top: a hole punch, a Tucker, which I particularly liked, a ruler and a small black metal basket with different pencils, pens, a big scissors and a letter opener.
Without the express permission of my dad, I could not touch anything of that
what was on or in his desk, in his cabinets and shelves.

But have bans me been discouraged from doing anything not, what I wanted to do right now? Of course not! And I thought the opportunity for more than just cheap. Because my father seemed to be engrossed in his phone a lot. For he spoke and flipped highly concentrated in a stack paper in front of him.

So I held out my hands to get the gray Tucker from the desk. I just wanted to wrap my fingers around him, when my father got up abruptly, leaned over his desk forward to me, held the phone to his chest and hissed: "You know the rules, Robin Michael!"

His gaze was stern. Startled, I nodded, took back my hands and kneaded them nervously behind my back. My father shook his head briefly. He straightened up, took the receiver back to his ear and walked in front of his desk up and down. He said, "Excuse me, Doctor Schneider, I was distracted and could not follow you completely .... no ... no, no customer, no ... my four year old son has a fire truck problem and no patience ... yes hahaha who do you say that ... no yes ... no ... thank you for your understanding, so where we were?" That could still take forever. I was bored.

So I went slowly and quietly toward the windows. There were several leather chairs and a tea trolley. And that interested me the most. On the elegant-looking piece of furniture were many glasses of various shapes and sizes. What captivated my attention were the many bottles were standing there. They were all filled with different colored liquids. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder and was pleased to find my father gave me half turned his back and in one of his drawers looking for something. I turned around and grinned enterprising. Ernst and checking I looked at the bottle and eventually met my choice. I took a bottle whose label adorned two cherries. The clear liquid looked less than as cherry juice ..... but I could try it even once. Maybe the juice of my dad tasted even better than the one my mother always bought.
The bottle was half full and the shutter was not a problem for me.
I opened the bottle. And with the tongue between my teeth I poured a generous portion of the clear liquid into one of the big glasses. Fast and a little careless, I put the bottle back. My carelessness caused a faint tinkling of glasses. I did not register this noise and took the glass in my hand and lifted it towards my mouth. My nose sniffed already curious towards this extraordinary cherry juice when I heard behind me a loud "Klong" and the alarmed and stern voice of my father, who shouted, "ROBIN MICHAEL STOP! DON`T DRINK!!!DO NOT DARE!!!!"

My father was next to me, it was done so quickly, I was not even able to turn to him. Advantage for him, big drawback for me.
For if he could take me right away the glass from my hand and put this back on the trolley.
And no need to turn around me before he could grab me on my left shoulder and give me several sharp blows on my pants.

After the blows then he turned me to himself, and with a stern look, he said, "My absolutely last warning, Robin Michael! Behave yourself! Otherwise I spank you for the third time today! "
With tears in my eyes, I nodded. The blows of my father had, despite the protective layer of my pants, but really hurt. And let a thoroughly unpleasant burning sensation on my little butt behind.

So much for the topic: I'm careful with my little butt!

As a precaution, my father took me to his desk, stood me there beside him on the floor and said: "Here you stay on and be silent!" I nodded and wiped me with my sleeve the tears from my cheeks.

A few minutes I was completely honest and quiet in my place. I watched my father who phoned further while concentrated leafed through his papers. He seemed to be a little nervous. For he sat down in his chair, stood up, walked a few times back and forth. Sat down, got up again and so on ......
I was bored again. And with this feeling, the fear of a punishment again from my dad, faded. I looked searchingly through his office. My eyes wandered back to the trolley and its contents interesting ..... but I pulled myself together. With the bottles there, my father seemed to understand no fun. So I´d better stay away from them. At least for today.

The chair of my father was free again. Therefore, I lay face down on the seat. With my toes I just touched the floor and pushed me. First, I turned around in a circle, then I managed to let the heavy chair scroll a little to the right and left.

My father had not noticed my activities. He phoned on. And I contented myself with a carousel ride for little monsters .... but really very little monsters. But that bit of fun enough to distract me from my destructive boredom.

A loud thud noise stopped me suddenly. I turned to my dad and was surprised that he was sitting on the floor.
The telephone receiver dangling from his line next to my father back and forth. My dad clung with his right hand on the edge of his desk, and with his left hand he was rubbing his butt. He moans loudly and shouted: "Robin Michael Ale ...."

I did not want to hear more! I quickly slid off his chair. Faster I ran out of his office and up to my room. There I hid myself with wildly beating heart behind my door. Trembling, I huddled in the corner, my head on my knees and thought: Please no more spanking! Please no more spanking! But my father was apparently not behind me. Because I could not hear his footsteps on the stairs, yet he opened my room door and said, "Now its your turn!"

Relieved, I breathed out.
If I had been older and more expertise in the priority set by adults, I would have certainly not felt on the safe side. But rather suspected, that a punishment was coming after the phone call to me.
My father could not interrupt the call, in which he said: "Excuse me, Doctor Schneider, please be patient for about five minutes. I have to spank my son because he pulled the chair out from under my butt and I am therefore rudely landed with this on the floor!"
This nakedness would give my father never ever. Not at a business customer!!
But with my four years I knew nothing of such considerations. I was preoccupied with the idea to placate my father again, and of his plan to spank me, to dissuade.

My gaze fell on my piggy bank in the form of a fire engine that was on my desk. From the money I had not spent much. Therefore, it should be enough to ....
Decided I stood up, took my money box and quietly walked out of my room and downstairs.
With rapidly beating heart, I stood in front of the half-closed door of the office and heard my father still calling. "No, nothing happened to me, thank you for your compassion Doctor Schneider .... no, this was not intentional of my son ... no, if I'm telling you .... Doc .... Doctor .... Doctor Schneider, with all due respect and understanding for your anger at the ... about the unpleasant interruptions that caused my son, but I educate my son the way I think is right and not what you would do with ... with your kids ... no ... no ... my son is not a naughty troublemaker who earns the wooden spoon!.....Yes, thank you have a nice day, too!”

Thus, the conversation was apparently over. Because I heard he hung up rudely and scolded to himself: “Always these ancient people. Who think, that they can beat with raw power, decency and good behavior inside a child... spoon! This one was only used for cooking and not for hitting! Damn it! Actually know how .... "My timid knock on his door interrupted his soliloquy. "Come in, Robin Michael," I gulped, my father still seemed to be angry, but probably not more so, that it was enough for a Robin Michael Alexander.

Hesitantly and with guiltconscious glance I walked in and went to him. With an uncertain look from the bottom up to my father, who stood with a paper in his right hand behind his desk, I asked softly, "Are you still mad at me, Daddy?" "Yeah! Had I known that you are planning such a sneaky attack on my bottom, precaution, I would have placed a pillow under!”
As I lowered my eyes to the ground, escaped me the amused smile of my father. Contrite I said, "Excuse me .... does it hurt yet?" "You could say that ... why would you know this?" With the courage of despair, I looked at my father again and stammered: "Because I ... because if you 're still mad at me, then ... then you can ... you can ... buy a piece of lemon pie and a cup of coffee .... of my money... so again you're so good .... good mood ... like ... like last time Daddy ....! "

So I put my money box on the desk in front of him and looked at him tensely. With wide eyes, I waited for his reaction.
His eyebrows shot up, before he laid the paper aside. First, he looked at my piggy bank, then to me and asked lurking, "You want to bribe me, so I do not punish you?" At first I nodded, then shook my head. My father had me apparently misunderstood. But I was the one who was confused with bribe and bite. I quickly said, "... I will not bite you ... I just want that you're not mad at me….please Daddy!" "Ah okayyyyyy... mmmh" replied my father and frowned thoughtfully. Until he finally nodded and said. : "You know what, Robin? This is an excellent idea! We go by bike into town and look for a nice cafe!”

What we did then actually. And so found this day, after his terrible beginning, but still a conciliatory and hilarious end.

Some notes for a better understanding:

My father loves lemon pie. And even then it is still the case today.
And on why I recommended him this cake again, hung together with the shoe shopping two days ago. After we paid for my new shoes, we sat down to a cafe before heading home. My father ordered for a cup of coffee and just such a lemon tart. I got an ice cream sundae.
Because of my bad behavior he was still a little bad tempered and very serious.

About that I was sorry and felt bad.
Dejected, I sat on my chair and could not really enjoy my ice cream.
In addition, my sore butt hurt when sitting.
But with every piece of cake and every sip of coffee, my dad was always cheerful and funny. And he finally told me a joke after another. So I'm laughing, barely able to eat my ice cream. And despite my still burning and aching botty, I enjoyed this time with my father.
Now I had reminded me of the positive impact of the pie on the mood of my father. That's why I was willing to sacrifice my entire pocket money. This investment seemed to be paying off. What had been an empty piggy bank against a painless and normal temperature botty? Nothing!

In our cellar naturally lived no monster. That explained, and showed me my dad also equal. First was my vivid imagination run away with me and secondly, had our heating system switched on. At the very moment when I had opened our cellar door. And the plant caused this to me totally unknown noises.

The "nice" Doctor Schneider nevertheless remained a client of my father. Both avoided in future topics that related to the education of children.

My mother came home, as I have long been in bed and asleep. My father told her of the events of the day. He left nothing out. Then my mother had stomach pains from her many laughs.
She regretted not having seen the downfall of my father live. And asked him to write down everything in detail in her diary. What my father, slightly annoyed and a little insulted did. The great glee from my mother gnawed at him for a while.

Proforma, my father took a few coins out of my piggy bank.
Put them in the during the evening secretly back inside.
He left me in the belief that I had paid my money for his cake and his coffee. And that made me immensely proud.