Maracatte

[Mushy]

With a roll of his eyes, Razel grabbed his son by the arm during his little "song" and pulled him towards the wash room.

"Tough luck, little one," Razel told him. "No milk if you aren't clean. Your grimy body won't even enter my kitchen at this point."

[bobby]

Tristan didn't like when his Daddy grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into the washroom. At first the little boy only got red in the face and scampered to keep up with his Papa, but once Razel had the child in the bathroom, and had firmly closed the door behind them, Tristan began to complain loudly, "NO! DADDY! I WANT MY MILK FIRST! FIRST GIVE ME MY MILK AND THEN I'LL WASH UP!"

The little boy was profoundly frustrated that all his attempts at 'cuteness' had not succeeded and that his Daddy was taking charge. Now, he felt that he HAD to at least negotiate to get some control back.

Usually, Tristan felt secure when his Papa took charge, but right now, he felt like his little power had been snatched away and he didn't like it. Even tiny six year olds feel the stirrings of male independence, even at the silliest of times.

When Razel took hold of his arm again to draw him toward the tub, Tristan made 'spaghetti legs' and slid to the floor. "MILK FIRST AND THEN WASH!" the little boy said, starting to cry.

[Mushy]

The boy was being beyond difficult, and Razel did not appreciate it. On more than one ocassion, Tristan had disobeyed or argued with him, and he wasn't putting his foot down. However, this was serious backtalking - Tristan was shouting at him - and that was something Razel did not care for.

Any scoldings Razel attempted were drowned out by the boy's obnoxious shouting.

"There will be no more of this!" Razel said sternly, grabbing his son by the waist, and lifting him up and exiting the bathroom. Tristan thought he had won, but that was far from the case - they were not leaving because Tristan had won. They were leaving because Razel didn't have a decent place to sit down.

He took his son right into the hall, where he sat on a comfortable, decorative bench, and put his son on his feet right in front of him, without releasing him.

"You're STILL getting a bath," Razel said sternly, and Tristan opened his mouth to protest, but Razel held up a warning finger to the boy's lips. "Have you listened well to me today? More than once you've disobeyed me. I shouldn't have to warn you again, and you know it."

He put his son across his lap, and with one finger under the elastic of his shorts, tugged everything down to reveal his bottom. He pulled the pants down to Tristan's knees, and slowly pulled the boy's shirt out of the way.

He didn't immediately set to spanking Tristan, though. The boy was already howling and he was still being cheeky.

[bobby]

Tristan was trembling with his Father picked him up by his tiny waist and carried him out to the hall. The little boy stood with his hands resting on his Father's knees while Razel sat down on the decorative bench and continued his scolding.

Tristan was so frightened that he hardly processed what his Father said, but he completely processed what was going to happen when his Daddy picked him up off his feet and laid him across his lap. Little Tristan's hands and feet were well off the floor, and Daddy was holding him tucked into his body.

Then the little boy felt his Father take hold of his short pants and little briefs and take them down to his knees. Tristan started to cry as his little bare bottom was exposed and his little shirt turned up. When little Tristan felt his Papa's hand rest on his chubby behind he began to wail even louder.

"NOOOO, DADDDDDYYYY! NO SPANKING! BWAAAAA! YOU CAN'T SPANK ME! NO NO NO!" the little boy wailed. Tristan tried to swim off of his Daddy's lap, but he couldn't move at all. He could only stay where his Daddy had put him.

[Mushy]

"You will hold still," Razel told his son firmly, and with that, raised his hand and slapped it against the little behind across his lap. Tristan burst into tears, but Razel ignored them, and peppered the boy's backside with spanks. His large hand was able to cover most of the child's bottom, and in no time it was red.

"I've just really had enough," Razel said with a light sigh, continuing to spank the boy despite his wailing and writhing. "It's not that difficult for you to listen to what I say! I guess sometimes the only way to talk to you is with my hand across your seat!"

With that, he punctuated it with one large spank, and then relaxed his hand at his side, on the bench, still holding his son with his other arm.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" Razel asked, feeling guilty and trying not to...after all, Tristan had shouted at him! He had to learn not to be so rude.

[bobby]

Like all little boys who have been full of guff and gumption, it quickly evaporated when his pants were taken down and he found himself lying across a paternal lap getting a good spanking.

Tristan loved his Papa with all of his little heart, and as much as Papa's hand hurt his little bottom and made it stink and smart, it also made him feel very sad. He didn't want his Daddy to be mad at him.

"BWAAAAAAA!" the little one cried, "I'm sorry Daddy! I'm sorry I was....BWAAAAAA....bad. Don't spank me no more, Daddy! Don't! It hurts my feelings. BWAAAAAA!"

The little boy tried to turn his head to look up at his Father. Papa's hand holding him down kept him very still in Razel's lap. Razel almost laughed at the way the little red bottom wriggled about. Tristan's eyes looked up into Razel's and the little boy said, "I'm sorry I was rude, Daddy!" the little boy's face was wet with tears and snot. "But please don't give me a bath! (sniff! sniff!) Okay?"

[Mushy]

"You shouted at Papa, Tristan. I don't like being shouted at. How can I care about your feelings about being spanked if you don't care about mine when you yell at me?" Razel sighed. "Tristan, I know you're sorry, but not sorry enough."

He took his hand off the bench and raised it up in the air. It came down another dozen times on the little boy's cherry red bottom, making Tristan yelp at every spank. Finally, Razel's arm grew heavy. He didn't want to spank his son further; he felt he oughtn't, so he lifted the boy to his feet and pulled his britches back up.

"No more shouting at Papa," Razel said gently, taking his hankerchief and wiping away the snot around the boy's nose. "You'll take a bath and play in the water like a good boy, and when you're clean, we'll have milk...and with some baking, some cookies."

[bobby]

Little Tristan wailed unhappily when Razel's response to his trying to negotiate his way out of a bath, was to simply resume his spanking.

There is no message quite as direct as Daddy's firm palm on a little boy's round bare bottom to help a little one learn a good lesson. Even before his twelve additional fanny smacks were over, Tristan was apologizing at the top of his little voice and saying, "Oh, Papa, BWAAAAAAA! I'm sorry I was a bad little boy! BWWAAAAAAA! I love you, Daddy! Owwwweeeeee!"

When Razel decided that he'd administered a proper chastisement to his boy's bare bottom, he lifted Tristan off of his knee, set him on his feet and refastened his little pants. He wiped the child's wet face and even waited while Tristan clutched his hot little behind and danced about.

Then when the little boy held up his arms, Razel picked him up and hugged him. Tristan cried again and kissed his Daddy's cheek repromising to be good.

Razel said, "You'll take a bath and play in the water like a good boy, and when you're clean, we'll have milk...with some cookies."

Then Razel took his son firmly by the hand and lead the little boy, who was still plucking at the seat of his very warm pants, to the bathroom for his soaping.

[Mushy]

Tristan was very behaved when Razel took off his dirty clothes and threw them into the wash. The boy's bottom was still very pink when Razel lowered him into the tub. He put in some special liquid he'd mixed for his son, making sure to put plenty of bubbles in for Tristan to play in. Tristan was usually a pretty well behaved boy with bubbles to play in, and Razel soothingly told a story to his son while washing him.

"Along the mountains on the border, there are said to be great golems," Razel said, scrubbing at the boy's scalp with shampoo and warm water. "They're so big that your Papa would never be able to defeat one! They protect the narrow mountain paths!"

[bobby]

Tristan sat quietly, his hands moving gently in the bubbles and his eyes large and fixed on his Papa as Razel used his own hands to soap the little body and shampoo Tristan's mop of hair. Only occasionally did the little boy use his arm to wipe soap from his face, and whenever he did, his Father, the sleeves of his shirt rolled well up, used his own thumbs to wipe any trances of soap so they would not get into his little boys' eyes or mouth.

Tristan had tasted soap a few times when he had been rude, but he would not taste any soap this evening.

"Papa?" the little boy asked, getting up on his knees and putting his small hands on his Father's arms, "can the great golems eveer come down from the mountains and visit us. I wouldn't want them to, would you, Papa?" Tristan frowned a little and said, "but if they did, I would protect you Daddy!" The little boy put his arms around his Father' s neck and gave him a lovely warm kiss.