Chapter 4: Cry if you want to!

I finally agreed with the grey wolf that he would ignore the complaint against me if I agreed to immediate punishment and could convince him that I was sincerely sorry for my misbehavior towards the lady. One look at Eric's strong upper arms in the black leather jacket made me realize that I would indeed be sorely sorry for my loose remarks.

I didn't have to show Eric the way to my gym, he already knew his way around and I also knew how he liked it. Still, I waited for his instructions, "Undress and lie over the pommel horse!" Sighing softly, I did as I was told and laid down on the old gym horse. I had to stretch my legs straight down. My trusty Fury was still set at Ufuk height, so that I could just barely touch the ground with my toes. Uncomfortable! 

Nevertheless, I had to grin a bit: Because I had never been ratted out so uninhibitedly as today by my foster pup. What a little Judas! Having a pup already brought surprises with it. Not uninteresting, the whole thing, as I had to admit. Interesting, though, was Eric's behavior as he busily rummaged around in my tool cabinet. I lifted my head so far that I could see what he was doing there.

"Stay down! Get your nose down!" he barked directly. Gotcha - but Eric seemed to have finally made his selection. Even if I didn't know what he wanted to start with, I was about to find out. Something cool touched my muscular butt, to thunder down on it with momentum right after. Oh no, this stupid long paddle. Why had I bought that thing? I had never used it myself. I was always the stupid one who had to endure it. And that really hurt!

Eric worked as usual: Thoroughly and concentrated. With him there were no sermons, no chatter, no distraction and unfortunately no mercy. From the upper ass to just before the back of the knees, he drove the paddle over me in a steady rhythm, and then leisurely worked his way back up. He didn't leave out a single centimeter of stroke surface, it burned like crazy. Still, I held my own. For some reason, I imagined that I would have to endure the blows silently - I was actually afraid that my foster pup would otherwise still hear me howling on the second floor.

As hard as I tried, I still got quite into a snort, because Eric the Viking was really not known for gentle pettings. He was also called the terrible Eric and finally he had arrived at the top again. My whipping master actually praised me, "You're in a good mood today - or did you take something as a preventive measure?" I shook my head vigorously and countered, "You're just trying to get me for using banned medicines, cop!"

The policeman, handsome despite that unflattering green uniform, laughed, "Good thought, but I think when I've punished you for the insults, you've had enough for today. Why do you always have to tease Gisi like that, too?" Gisi? Had I misheard or did he actually just say Gisi to my old anaconda? What was going on there? Was he interested in my girl? She was much too old for him! However, I staked out my territory as a precaution, "I tease her, because the reconciliation is so nice! Cooling gel, ice pack and a lot of Gisela just for me alone!"

"Well, we'd better make sure the cooling gel and ice pack are worth it!" laughed Eric in amusement, going back to the cabinet, putting the paddle away neatly and taking out something else. "A nice stick," he explained obligingly this time. "Well wonderful", I only thought to myself and with the subsequent strokes with the cane I was now sweating mightily. 

Eric mainly took care of my butt and placed only now and then a surprising blow on my thighs, when he thought that I must be prevented from falling asleep. Gradually I heard the angels singing. After each blow I had to moan a little and noticed how I slowly slid down on the leather horse. This was only because I was lying so sloppily. My own pupils were always tied up nicely on the horse and could relax comfortably. Only I had to do everything alone again! 

Of course, Eric caught me trying to unobtrusively push my big body back up. "For that fidgeting there are three more with the whip at the end," he announced almost kindly, but first gave me the opportunity to stretch my poor ass up again and finally gave me the last six with the cane. Phew, almost done. Only these stupid three additional blows and they came, but with momentum! Now I wanted to scream, however, I suppressed the volume so far, so that not much more than a whisper was made. 

The last one Eric burned on my thighs - the damn bastard! But I only thought that and fortunately not outside my head. As a well-bred convict, I knew when to shut up. Most importantly, I knew that that was enough for me for today. There really didn't need to be more. "You may get up," Eric the Terrible finally announced. Groaning, I slid off the pommel horse and got to my feet. Gosh, he really had shown no mercy. Stiff-legged, I toddled in the direction of my clothes. 

But Eric stopped me, "Stop! Before you get dressed, I want to hear something from you." Oh, that's right, there was one more thing: Regret. I had almost forgotten about that. I assured the grey wolf that I would never insult my lady like that again and looked appropriately mortified to the floor. Eric grinned at me and said, "I'll tell the lady, but tell me - can it be that this is the third time I've been allowed to spank you for the same offense?"

Instead of an answer, I whistled a few notes to myself and looked innocently into the air. Eric laughingly threw me my things and waited until I had dressed. He remembered something else shortly afterwards, "That little pup you've got there - he's quite curious, isn't he? He hung around the door upstairs for a long time." I groaned in annoyance. We idiots hadn't locked the basement door! 

There I held convulsively the mouth, so that my foster pup did not hear me, although he looked at me anyway the whole time on the twitching bottom. Life was so unfair! However, my moaning quickly turned into head-shaking laughter - that little brat! Why couldn't he be a listless pup who looked out the window and counted birds all day? Eric and I went upstairs together. There was no sign of Peter. 

In the hallway, Eric the Viking asked me if I wanted to come to police sports, judo and karate, "We could still use someone in your weight class and with your experience. Tomorrow would be great." I groaned in thought. Martial arts with such a sore backside, that was no fun and Eric knew it. Still, man or sissy? 

Luckily, I thought of a better excuse in time, "Tomorrow I can't, we promised the pup we'd have a barbecue. But next week, of course, I'd love to." Eric nodded with a grin, "Great. See you next week then - and stay good, old fox." I just nodded wordlessly, whereupon the policeman disappeared again. As soon as he was out the door, my little shadow reappeared out of nowhere. I grabbed him and tugged a little on his ear, while I asked, "Well, I guess you didn't stay in the room, did you?"

The German Shepherd pup peered at me cautiously from below, probably to see if I was angry with him. But since I wasn't, he relaxed right back and asked anxiously, "Did it hurt a lot?" "Hmm - well, it could be endured," I answered and shortly after gave him a light slap on the butt, while I added, "And if I say in the future: Stay in your room - then you really stay in your room, otherwise I have to judge it as disobedient behavior and what that means, I don't have to say it again, do I?" 

Eagerly he shook his head and still said, "Promise. I'll definitely stay in the room next time." I grinned up in satisfaction while giving him a quick hug, "I'll take that promise, and I really hope you don't forget it anytime soon." He snuggled against me for a moment, finally disengaging himself from my arms again and said, "You were so brave, Uncle Werner! He sure hit hard. If he had done that to me, I'm sure I would have yelled the whole town together!"

I had to grin and was happy about the praise, but on the other hand I was sure that after today my foster pup finally thought I was mentally broken. However, I saw in his look above all but something other than pride or admiration. After all, I was not a sissy for him and yet he was still worried about me and obviously also had a guilty conscience about the whole thing.

After a few silent seconds, the boy finally asked with a sad look: "Uncle Werner? Was that now because I told on you? Or was that another one of those adult games?" I gave him another little tug on his ear, which he put up with without resistance, and explained, "To be honest, little one, it was both, but still not your fault. Of course, you don't actually squeal, but sooner or later it would have caught me anyway. That's what we do every few weeks. Then I annoy Gisela, she sends some devil into my house and at night she comes to me and comforts me. That's when it gets really nice."

I could see in his look that he couldn't quite grasp it all, but I could still see the guilty conscience raging in him. "Is your conscience bothering you, Peter?" I asked without further ado, whereupon my foster pup actually just nodded wordlessly. I was almost touched by so much insight, but actually I didn't want to punish him for the whole thing, since I was almost certain that it was Ufuk's fault. 

On the other hand, I didn't want the pup to have to struggle with it any longer. He should be able to tick it off and if his conscience demanded punishment for it, then I saw no other way and finally gave in to my urge to lead. I put an arm around his shoulder and led him into the living room, "Come on, my pup. We'll settle this now so you don't have to worry about it anymore." 

The German Shepherd pup came along willingly, but looked sadly at the floor. I stopped in front of the sofa and sat down. Briefly, I contorted my face as I was reminded of something I had almost forgotten. My aching butt throbbed and sitting low on the sofa didn't make it any better. With my foster pup, however, it caused a reaction as well. For his bad conscience this was just like gasoline for a small fire.

I put my paws on his slender hips and pulled him closer to me, finally looking up at him as I explained, "Please listen to me carefully, Peter. I know you're worried about me and blame yourself that I'm in pain now because of you, but you can believe me, it's not your fault. I can understand you and I can also understand your guilty conscience. 

I don't want you to worry about this for a long time now and I don't want you to have to fight with your bad conscience any longer. Therefore, I have now decided to punish you, but, and I am happy to give this to your conscience in writing: For what and how I punish you, is entirely my decision and no one else has anything to say about it. Neither Aunt Gisela, nor Eric, nor you or your conscience. Have you understood that?" 

The pup nodded wordlessly, whereupon I ordered, "Good. Now please take off your pants." Without a sound, he undid his trouser button and pulled down his shorts, including his underpants. Meanwhile, I pulled the belt out of my pants. Peter looked at me a bit startled with his mouth open. I briefly raised my right eyebrow and he already woke up from his rigidity and hurriedly put his pants neatly on the armrest of the sofa.

I put the belt aside, wordlessly pulled the boy onto my lap and announced the sentence, "I will not punish you for the fact that I am in pain, because that is entirely my own fault. I will not punish you for Aunt Gisela being mad at me, because that is also my fault. I am punishing you for telling on someone and for not staying in your room when I asked you to. For snitching, I'm going to give you ten good lashes with my hand on your bottom. For not staying in your room, I will give you another three with the belt, also on your bottom. However, I demand additionally from you, since there are only very few blows altogether, that you endure all without fidgeting and kicking. You may cry, of course, but both your legs and arms remain still, otherwise we'll start from scratch again and repeat the whole thing until it works. Ready?"

Peter just looked at the floor, let his arms and legs hang loosely, and replied, "Yes." I put my left hand on his back to hold his tail and him somewhat on my lap and lashed out with my right. I let the first five strokes with my hand slap hard on his soft white cheeks, which the pup acknowledged each time with a wince, but he stayed still on my legs and didn't even cry out. I was really surprised, because he tried very hard, I noticed that clearly. Apparently, he wanted to do the same as me and also endure the punishment as quietly and silently as possible.

I decided to put his will to the test a bit and patted his butt a little stronger with my big paw. With these five it was already much harder for him, but he still managed it and did not even cry. He had tears in his eyes, I was sure, but he suppressed them with all his might. Of course, this made me proud of him, but on the other hand, it was also a small challenge, I just had to admit that to myself. 

"Okay. Now the three with the belt follow. Are you ready?", I asked my foster pup, taking the belt. The German Shepherd pup breathed heavily, drawing the air deep into his lungs, then squeezing it between his teeth, "Yes." I could clearly feel his whole body tense up, tensing every muscle while trying to get ready for the leather. I didn't hit too hard, but I didn't want him to get bored either, and besides, I wanted to find out if he could stay calm even if it really hurt. 

The belt slapped across both his cheeks for the first time, hitting them right in the middle. Immediately a slightly red weal formed under the short white fur, but even now no sound was heard from Peter, although he just had to fight with all his might against it. I didn't give him a break, so the second blow with the leather landed shortly thereafter already a bit above the first welt. Again, he fought with all his might against it, but also the third and thus last weal colored itself less than two seconds later already on his backside.

I was very impressed with Peter. More than that, I was even very heavily impressed and also incredibly proud of him. It was only a few blows, but these I had not exactly lightly pressed on his small ass. However, the quivering body on my legs tore me out of my thoughts. The pup did not howl, but he continued to cramp with his whole body and still fought against it, although we were already finished.

"Peter! Stop it! That's enough!" I yelled at him, and he jumped in shock and almost fell off my legs. I grabbed the shocked German Shepherd pup and put him back on his feet in front of me. Even his gaze was totally tense and petrified. "Peter stop it now. You have already proven your bravery to me. I'm very proud of you for enduring your punishment almost silently, but even bravery comes to an end sometimes," I explained to the astonished pup, but he just pressed between his teeth, "But I don't want to cry. You didn't cry either, Uncle Werner! At the same time, you have endured a thousand times more than I have just now. I want you to be proud of me." 

I groaned inwardly annoyed. What shit had I done there again and even without realizing it? "I'm already proud of you, Peter, and that's certainly not going to change just because you're crying. You know what would make me even prouder right now? I'll tell you: if you cried as loud as you want right now. Scream, yell, howl and whine as loud as you can, as loud as you want, as loud as you have to."

My foster pup looked at me in amazement. Now he probably didn't understand the world anymore, so of course I explained it to him, "Yes, you heard right, my little one. It would make me even prouder if you cried. A man must be brave. A man has to be tough. A man must be strong. That is all true, but more importantly, a man must be able to cry. A man who does not cry is not a man, but a stone. Some of the happiest men in the world, cry snot and water for hours on some days - sometimes with reason, sometimes without. Do you know why?" The German Shepherd pup shook his head. 

"Because they know that the soul needs only a few things to be able to live really happily. Among them, for example, is laughter, but also crying. My mother always told me that when you laugh, your soul sings happy songs and when you cry, it sings sad ones. It needs that to be able to deal with the feelings we experience day after day. If you don't laugh or don't cry, it can make you sick, it may even kill you one day. Peter, my puppy: be brave, be strong, be courageous and be honorable, but never forget: cry when you need to! Cry when you have to! And also cry when you want to!"

The pup stood in front of me with the corners of his mouth hanging down. He had absorbed every word like a sponge and burned it firmly into his head, I could literally see that. The water had long since run out of his eyes, like two raging rivers, and he hadn't really started crying yet. Suddenly Peter threw himself into my arms, sat on my lap and clung to me like a limpet. Not a second later he was howling like a castle dog. Poor pup. I immediately put my arms around his body and pressed him against me. 

I almost got carried away with the howling, but my floodgates remained closed for the time being. My tears belonged alone to my old rottweiler girl, but the puppy had nevertheless now still something of me bitterly necessary. I strengthened my embrace a bit more and promised him, "Peter. Whenever you feel like crying, for whatever reason, I promise I'll be there to comfort you with petting. Okay?" He hugged himself even closer to me while sobbing, "Yeeesssss! Uncle Werner!" 

Wordlessly, I began to stroke his back soothingly. Many times, I had now spanked his bottom and each time tears were associated with it. But he had never shed so many as in the following hour, which he sat on my lap and cuddled up to me. It took a very long time for him to calm down, but he persistently refused to get off my legs even after that. I clearly noticed that he probably just needed the closeness too much currently.

It wasn't until we had spent close to two hours on the sofa that Peter quietly asked, "Why do adults have to make everything so complicated?" I looked down at myself a little surprised and asked, "What do you mean?" The pup lifted his head from my chest and explained, "Aunt Gisela and you. Why do you make it so complicated? Why with insults, with spanking and all that? Why? I don't understand. Just because of these adult games?" 

"I know this is all a little hard to understand, but this is how we've been doing it for a very very long time and this is how we all like it. Eventually you'll understand and until then, just try not to think about it. There's no point in you racking your brains about it all the time," I tried to finally bring the subject to a close with him and it seemed to work. Peter accepted my answer, but directly put his head back on my chest and let me continue stroking him. 

I thought about his question for quite a while, while at some point he started to snore calmly on my lap. He was actually right: Gisela and I could have had a good time together even without insults and fights. That would have been much easier for all - also for Eric, the Viking, the preaching Dietmar and all the others. But as it was, it was good.

After I had carried my foster pup, who was already sound asleep, to his room, undressed him and laid him in his bed, I also was finally able to go to bed. When later that night my old rottweiler girl slid into my bed and spoiled me my burning backside and the expectant front, I knew that I also never wanted to have it any other way.