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Rory's Weekend

By : Panthera

This story is not to be reproduced, copied, or otherwise published anywhere, in any way shape or form, without the express permission of the author.

It was finally the end of the school year. Rory sat behind his desk, wearing his blue jean cut-off shorts, and his favorite T-shirt, the Cincinnati Bengals one he had been given for his birthday.

Happy that the day, and his school year, was finally almost over, he relaxed in his chair. The young tiger cub had been having some troubles during the year, but he thought he had gotten past them. He had his whole summer in front of him, and the fall start of the school year seemed like an eternity away.

Five minutes before the final bell rang, the teacher had everyone line up in front of the room. Rory noticed how empty the room looked with all the posters and decorations down, all the desks cleaned and empty. He still couldn't wait to be out for the summer though.

Their teacher padded along down the line, saying goodbye to her class for the year, and handing each one their final report card. As she finishes, she spoke to them all as a class for one last time.

"Now then, all of you have been given your final report card this year. You'll notice they're folded in two and stapled along each edge."

Rory glanced at his folded note card and nodded.

"That is to prevent tampering," she continued. "No one can look at their report cards, or try to change anything, without their parents knowing they did so. And I've written in each one that they have been stapled and sealed as well, so your parents will know."

Everyone gave small nods, just wanting to be out of the classroom finally. The bell rang, and as the teacher waved her paw, everyone filed out quietly.

It was not until they were outside that everyone began running home. Rory put his report card in his pocket and ran home happily. He arrived home a little earlier than usual, but not by much.

Panting, he ran into the house, closing the door quietly behind him. He saw his mother sitting on the couch, and calmed down, padding over to her slowly, but smiling.

"Hello son." she smiled. "All done for the year?"

Rory nodded vigorously, smiling, "Yeah mamma! School's closed!"

The two tigers, mother and son, shared a chuckle. "Well, then do you have something for me son?"

Rory smiled, "Oh yeah!" he climbed up onto her lap and kissed her cheek.

His mother purred to her son, hugging him close in her arms, "Well I never mind getting those from you son, but that wasn't exactly what I meant."

"Hmm?"

"Didn't your teacher give you a report card for the year today?"

Rory smiled and nodded. He reached into his pocket and handed it to her. "Still sealed I see. Why don't you go play in your room son?"

He smiled and kissed her again before scampering off to his bedroom.

His mother tore out the staples with her claws, and began looking over the grades and final comments listed there. As she read, she began to frown.

A couple of hours later, while Rory was still playing in his room, his father arrived home. He came in, tired from a day of work, but happy to have a weekend off with his family.

As he saw his wife's demeanor, his spirits fell a little. "Love? Is something the matter?"

She sighed, nodding as she passed Rory's report card to his father. He too started to frown as he read the notes and grades listed there.

He finished and looked to her, frowning, "Not as bad as it could be I suppose. Have you said anything to him?"

She shook her head, "I'm almost too mad to. Would you take care of him?"

He nodded, "I suppose I have to after this mess." They exchanged kisses, and he walked off, towards Rory's room.

Rory was playing with his toy cars on his racetrack as his father padded up to the door. "Son?"

He turned and smiled, "Hi daddy!"

His father sat down on the bed, "Son, come up here."

Rory gave a shrug and started to climb up onto his father lap. He hugged his son warmly for a moment before speaking again.

"We got your report card today son."

Rory looked up at his father, nodding.

His father sighed. "You know what it said?"

Rory shook his head.

His father began to read from the card. "Lack of discipline, one of the leading troublemakers in the class, but with more personal discipline and more direction, he could have straight A grades, not just a few A grades."

Rory began to frown.

His father continued reading. "An A in reading and science. But a B minus in spelling, a C in penmanship and citizenship, and a D minus in math. Son, why didn't you tell us math was giving you problems?"

Rory turned his gaze back down at the ground. "You'd laugh."

"Why would we son?"

"Other cubs do."

"But we're not cubs son. I know, we both know, how hard math can be to learn. We would have tried our best to help you son."

Rory sighed.

His father gave his rear a firm pat with his paw. "You have a serious lesson to learn right here son, and I'm going to make sure it's not one you'll ever forget."

Rory squirmed, starting to stand up so he could undress.

His father nodded, "Yes, that's good. You know the position. I'll be right back."

Rory sighed as he finished undressing. He knew he was really in for it. Not wanting things any worse than they already were, he folded his clothes in a neat pile, set them aside, then bent himself over the foot of his bed, nude, with a pillow underneath his belly, and another one below his head.

It seemed like an eternity to the little cub before his father returned. Rory didn't see what his father was carrying.

"Now Rory, you know why we have to do this?"

Rory nodded his head softly, "Because of my grades?"

The older orange-and-black feline nodded. "Yes, and what else?"

Rory thought a moment. "Mmm ... 'cuz I didn't come and ask for help?"

He nodded, "Yes, and there's one other thing."

Rory couldn't think of what else there could be. "What's dat?"

"Your teacher said you had a problem being disciplined. Your mother and I are going to make sure you know what discipline is this weekend son, and any other day or weekend afterwards we think you need it."

"What you mean daddy?"

"I'll explain after this is over son. You're getting this three times. One for your bad grade, one for not coming to us for help, and one for not behaving in school this year."

Rory mewled softly, a sense of dread beginning to swell up in his gut.

"You'll thank this for me someday son."

Rory doubted that, but didn't see any reason to mention it. He heard a familiar snap! of the belt as his father folded the leather strap in half. He braced himself, and as he had expected, a second later, he felt a small gust of wind on his exposed backside, a moment before the belt landed hard, making a line of searing pain across both cheek.

Rory jumped against the bed, beginning to sniffle already from that pain, with more on the way.

"Just stay there son. This is far from over."

Rory had little choice in the matter. He didn't even want to think what his punishment would be if he tried to move out of the way.

The flexible, black, leather belt swung true on his rear again, and then again once more. Each one got a new mrew! of pain from the tiger cub, and when the belt landed again, he couldn't hold back anymore, and just started to bawl on the bed, warm cub tears running down both sides of his muzzle as he his face against the pillow.

His father moved closer, and Rory felt his tail being lifted by his father's paw. He had only done this twice before, and both times were ones Rory would never forget. Again the belt fell, hard, this time landing painfully right against the base of the cub's tail. This made him shriek out in sheer agony, a whole new wave of sobs coming from the very sore cub. And there were still two more to go.

The older tiger sat down by his son, rubbing his back with a paw, letting the cub cry all he needed to. "Son?"

Rory wiped his eyes with his paws and looked up at his father. "Mmm?"

"That one was for your bad grade. Do you remember the last time I spanked you over my lap?"

Rory had to think about that, which he found a little hard to do from the pain in his rear. "Uhm ... wasn't it at the park few weeks ago?"

He nodded, "Yes. You remember what it was for?"

Rory nodded his head slightly. He remember a lot about that day, mainly the pain. "Cuz I pushed that bunnygirl off the swings and she hurted her knees?"

"Yes son. I was very angry at you over that, but also very disappointed you had been so mean to her."

Rory watched his father, noticing for the first time his face wasn't angry, but more thoughtful, maybe even a little sad.

"And that's how I feel now. Next time you have a problem that you can't handle, whether it's in school or not, I expect you to come to us son."

Rory nodded, "I try to daddy."

He leaned down and licked his son's face. "Good. Now up you go."

Rory shuffled forward on all four paws slowly, not wanting what was coming, but knowing he did deserve it. He set one of his pillows on his father's lap, then climbed across, his rump up in the air as he settled down.

His father smiled a little, "I certainly did a number on your bottom I see."

Rory had to agree.

"I hope this makes this lesson sink home son."

Rory only needed to feel one swat to know what was being used. His mother's almost antique wooden furbrush. Each swat of the brush made a big spot of his backside burn, but what hurt the most was how completely his whole backside, even under his tail and down his legs, could be reached by the brush.

His father was also an adept at reaching everywhere with the brush. Taking his time as he went along, but still keeping the swats coming at a quick pace, he completely covered Rory's rump in more pain.

Knowing what he was doing, he made sure to alternate from side to side on his cub's rear, only giving a few swats on each side before returning to the other side. He didn't go anywhere close to his son's tailbase though.

Rory squirmed on his father's lap, but found himself held in place by his tail. Squirm and kick all he might, his father only kept continuing, methodically burning this lesson into his son's already very sore backside.

Rory cried again, though not nearly as loud as before. The brush definitely hurt him, but it wasn't as much of a shock each time it hit him. He wiped at his eyes a few times, but gave that up and just let himself cry as his father worked on him.

He continued on, covering most areas two, sometimes even three times, before he finally finished. It had only been a couple of minutes, but to the one suffering the furbrush, it felt like a lot longer.

The older tiger set the brush down, and rubbed his son's back softly, even purrrring a bit to the hurt cub. Gradually Rory calmed down again, though he didn't think he'd be sitting down anytime soon.

His father picked him up, and being careful not to touch his son's rear (or to let him touch it either) he hugged him warmly. Rory smiled and hugged back around his father's neck. His rear still felt like it was on fire, but he knew he was loved all the same.

He held his son close, nuzzling him gently. "You know there's one more still son."

Rory sighed, but nodded a bit as he snuggled up to his father's warm, rumbling chest. "I love you daddy."

His father smiled, kissing his son's cheek before setting him down on his lap again. "I love you too son. But I think you know you need this."

Rory gave a small hint of a nod as he settled into position. Once more, his tail was lifted out of the way gently by a paw, then he felt his father's other paw rubbing very warmly over his rear.

Rory squirmed and shook a little as the pain was rubbed into him, but it also was rubbing it away a little, so he didn't mind so badly, for the moment.

Then, his paw raised up, and Rory felt another familiar type of swat on his rear, his father's paw. Rory jumped a little, beginning to cry again almost instantly as he endured yet another spanking that evening. His rear was beginning to glow bright red underneath his fur, even turning slightly purple in a few well-tended to spots.

His father was as methodical as before, but firmer, and quicker, giving barrage after barrage of quick, stinging slaps to his son's rear. As with the brush, he made sure to cover everywhere, even giving a few quick smacks to the back of his son's thighs.

As Rory cried louder at that, squirming like a very sore, very sorry cub on the bed, he felt his tail being lifted a bit higher. Knowing what was coming, he had just enough time to whimper once between his sobs, before his father finished the spanking.

To send his point truly home, he aimed right at Rory's tailbase. Spending almost half a minute there, he quickly turned Rory's whole body into a squirming, wriggling body of pain, each stinging swat there sending a similar sting up his backbone.

Rory sobbed out loud, making a small shriek once again before his father finished up on him. He stroked down his son's fur, knowing his sorry cub needed to cry, and letting him. He stayed there patiently until Rory had calmed down enough to breathe normally.

"Now son, I think you could use a nap right now. We'll talk about this weekend after dinner, alright?"

The cub nodded.

"Good." His father kissed him again. "Rest well son."

He set the cub down on his front on the bed, putting his pillows back under his head. Rory was fast asleep before his father had even left the room.

Later that evening, after Rory had uncomfortably sat through dinner, he had a talk with his parents.

His mother spoke first. "You see son, we think maybe what you need is more discipline to help you learn about disciplining yourself."

Rory blinked a little. "What dat mean?"

"Son," spoke his father, "for the rest of the weekend, you're going to be kept right in sight, where we both can see you at any time. Understand so far? That means no going outside, no going anywhere, unless we take you there."

Rory nodded glumly.

"Good. And during this time, anytime you do something you know is wrong, or something we feel you know better than to do or say, we're going to punish you however we see fit. Ok?"

Rory didn't like it, but he knew he had to accept it. "Ok."

Both his parents nodded. "Please clean off the table son. Your mother will wash the dishes."

Rory was thankful for an excuse to get off his rear, so he quietly cleared the table. "Would you like him to help you fry off the dishes my love?" asked his father.

She nodded, smiling, "Yes, that would be nice."

Rory helped to get all the dishes and glasses to the sink, then grabbed the dish towel and stood beside his mother, waiting to help.

One by one, as she handed him each glass, each spoon and fork (the knives she would dry herself) he dried them dutifully with the towel, setting them on the counter when finished. They didn't speak much, but both felt happy.

She then started handing dishes to Rory, and again he dried each one carefully before setting them on the counter.

Then it happened. As Rory was setting one dish on the pile he had made on the counter, his mother began to hold another plate out to him. Rory turned to grab it, before he had set the damp plate on top of the stack.

The cub grabbed onto the plate his mother was holding, and neither of them saw the dish fall until they heard it clatter, then shatter, on the tile kitchen floor.

His mother quickly pulled Rory back from the broken flatware on the floor, making sure he didn't get cut. As she held him, moving him away from the debris, she heard him mutter, "Dammit."

She frowned and turned him around to look her in the eyes, "What did you say son?"

He blinked, not even realizing he had said anything until she spoke to him. "Uhhm .. " was all he could muster in his defense.

"I see." She frowned at him. "Go wait for me in the bathroom cub. Now!"

Rory frowned and padded off, carefully avoiding the dish on the floor. His mother swept up the pieces on the floor, made sure all the tiny pieces of flatware were gone, so it was safe to walk, then padded into the bathroom, upset, but calm-headed.

Rory was standing by their tub, waiting quietly.

"Son ... " his mother spoke as she sat beside him on the edge of the tub. "Where did you learn that word?"

He frowned, looking down at his feet. "School."

She sighed. "Oh. Did one of the teachers say it?"

He shook his head.

"Someone on the playground?"

He nodded.

"Don't you know that's not a good word to say?"

Again, the cub nodded.

She put her paw under his chin, raising it slowly, making him look her in the eyes, "So why did you say it Rory?"

The cub gulped a little. His mother didn't scare him, usually, but he was still feeling nervous. "Cuz I got real mad. It was loud .. an' I didn' mean for it to drop mommy."

She nodded to him, kissing his cheek gently, smiling just a little. "I know you didn't son. If I thought you broke that dish on purpose, you'd be over my lap right now, ok?"

Rory nodded a little, feeling less nervous.

"But ... I do not like potty mouths that use bad words. Do you ever hear your father or myself use those bad words?"

Rory thought about it, but couldn't even remember hearing those words come from them. "No momma."

Again, she nodded. "That's right. We don't like them, don't use them, and we won't stand for you using them either, even if you were startled."

"I'm sorry momma."

"Yes, I know son, but remember what we said about this weekend?"

Rory nodded.

"Alright then. Open your mouth and hold still."

Rory watched her begin to get things ready by the sink. "Why?"

She glanced down at him, "If you use dirty words, you get your mouth cleaned out cub."

Rory sighed, even growling a little under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing mommy."

She gave another nod, then went back to what she was doing. Rory heard running water as he opened his muzzle up as wide as he could.

She sat back down by him, holding him between her legs. "Now watch cub."

He watched as she held out the damp washcloth. In her other paw, she smeared a big drop of liquid soap onto the cloth, then rubbed the cloth together in her paws. As she rubbed, a white, soapy film emerged on the cloth.

Rory still had his muzzle open. She twisted the cloth into a long bundle of soapy cloth, and pushed it into his open mouth, with one end hanging out each side of his muzzle.

"Now bite down son."

Rory grimaced as he bit down, holding his muzzle closed around the soap, the sickening taste assaulting his taste and smell, some of the suds even starting to work down his throat.

His mother put one paw on top of his muzzle, and one paw below it. As she held the cub still between her legs, she held his muzzle closed.

Rory continued to grimace, beginning to squirm as the nasty taste worked even more into his stomach.

She only watched him calmly, holding him there for his punishment.

Rory continued to be forced to taste the stuff, squirming and trying to groan as a sick feeling began to grow in his belly.

After a full five minutes, she let go of his muzzle, and turned on the flow of water into the bathtub. "Think you've had enough son?"

He did not need to be asked twice. He nodded vigorously.

"You can rinse your mouth out, after you get in the tub. You're being given a bath, then put to bed early son."

Rory would have agreed to anything to get rid of the taste in his mouth. He climbed into the warm water, and sat down carefully, whimpering softly. Quickly, he put his muzzle under the faucet and just let the water rinse the soap out of his muzzle.

He spat out suds as well, but after a good deal of rinsing, his sick feeling began to fade.

His mother smiled a little, "Feel better now?"

Rory nodded, "Yes mommy. Sorry I said that word."

She smiled, hugging the wet cub to her wet shirt, "I know son."

She then gave the young cub a warm bath, using lots of soap on his fur, but being careful not to get any more in his muzzle. They didn't talk much, but by the time she had finished rinsing him off, Rory was smiling again.

She helped him out of the tub, wrapped a warm, thick, green, adult-sized beach towel around him, almost swaddling him in the fuzzy warmth. He grinned and snuggled against the towel, giggling as she lifted him up and over her shoulder to carry him to her bedroom.

Setting the bundle down, she unfurled the blanket, grinning, "All dry now too?"

Rory nodded, giggling as he tried to sneak under the towel again.

She smiled, tickling his footpaws as he tried to crawl from her. The cub laughed, giggling and squirming in place, all thoughts of getting away now forgotten.

Then, she pounced on top of him, grinning as she held the towel down with her weight, holding him snug to his bed.

Rory smiled up at her.

"Love you son."

"Love you too mommy."

She smiled down at him, though her voice was slightly more serious, but still happy. "Know what you need now son?"

Rory shook his head.

"This weekend son, you're not to be out of our sights, even at night."

"How you doin' dat?"

She smiled. "You're sleeping in our bed son, and staying there from now until we get up in the morning."

"But what if I gotta go poddy?"

She let go of the cub, sitting beside him on the bed now. "That's why you'll be wearing a diaper son."

Rory frowned. "But I'm not a baby!"

"I didn't say you were son, but you will wear one tonight, and tomorrow night, and maybe even the night after."

Rory mrewled softly, pitifully. "I don't wanna."

She stopped getting up and turned to look at him. "What did you say?"

Rory felt very nervous, but kept speaking. "I said I don't wanna wear a diaper."

She frowned, getting back on the bed beside him. " Rory ... you are wearing a diaper tonight. The only question is if you wear one like you are now, or on a sore rear end."

Rory sighed loudly. "Okay, okay."

She gave a quick nod, "Move the towel, and stay right there."

Rory did as he was told, while his mother found a pile of his old cloth diapers in her closet. She came back with two of them, and two safety pins.

She knelt down before him on the bed, much like she used to when he still needed these at night. Both mother and son remembered those days. "Alright, lift your legs son."

Slowly, grudgingly, Rory lifted his legs up. His mother lifted them the rest of the way, so he was leaning on his shoulders, his rear a few inches off of the bed. Expertly, she slid the diaper under him with only her one free paw. After the diaper was in place, she slid the other under him. Then, as Rory thought he was about to be let go, he felt a sharp, very painful swat on his backside.

He looked up, and met the gaze of his mother. "Son ... I don't like it when you talk back to me like that." She emphasized her words with another very hard smack.

Rory winced, "I'm sorry ... I just don' wanna be a baby mommy."

She nodded, "I know son, and I don't think you're a baby. I'm certainly not treating you anymore like a baby than just diapering you. You do need this son."

Her son gave a small nod.

She leaned down and kissed his nose, then let go of his kegs and carefully pinned the two diapers together at Rory's sides.

"And now son, you're going to sleep."

She moved the sheets down off the bed and pulled Rory up close to her chest. She pulled the blankets over them both, purrring lovingly to her son as she held him close.

"Mommy?"

She smiles, kissing his head softly, "Yes my son?"

"You an' daddy know about math?"

She chuckled a little, "We know what we're doing, yes."

The worn out cub yawned, "Mebbe sometime you teach it to me?"

She smiled, purrrring louder than before suddenly and kissing him again. "Yes son, I promise. It's time for bed now."

"Love you pretty mommy."

She smiled, turning off the light beside the bed, "I love you too silly son."

Rory curled up against her in the dark, feeling safe in her warm embrace in the late evening light. And though he never saw, his mother shed a tear as he fell asleep, his head resting against her bosom, a sight she hadn't seen in years.

The next morning, as usual, Rory woke up before his parents did. He was still being held by his mother's paw, and even if he had wanted to, he would not have been able to get free from her. So he laid there, comfortably, relaxing. He really had to use the restroom, but couldn't get free.

After a few minutes more lying there, he lost control, and thoroughly wet his diaper. He kept quiet, and merely snuggled against his mother, waiting for someone to change him.

He fell asleep again while he waited, only waking up in mid-morning as his parents did. They all nuzzled, and kissed one another. His mother tended to him while his father went to make breakfast.

She smiled as she took him into the bathroom, taking his diaper off and cleaning him up with the soapy cloth she'd used the night before. The cub giggled at the attention, then happily went along with her wishes as his mother dressed him for the day, in a T-shirt, and a pair of shorts, but no underwear.

The two walked into the kitchen together, in good spirits. They sat down, growing even hungrier as they smelled the eggs and the bacon cooking.

His father sat down a minute or two later, with plates of food, and they all ate well.

After breakfast, Rory got out form his chair, and began to pad outside, forgetting about his weekend.

"Son?" called his father, "Where are you going?"

He looked back, smiling, "I was going out inna backyard."

His father shook his head, "No you're not. Come here."

Rory frowned, padding to his father's side.

The older tiger moved his chair back and patted his lap, "Up here now son."

Rory whined, but climbed up and positioned himself over his father's lap. "How come daddy?"

He watched the cub as he slid his shorts down his legs. "You're not going out to play this weekend son. You're not supposed to go or do anything unless we tell you to, or give you permission if you ask us."

Rory frowned. He had forgotten all about his punishment weekend. He was about to plead his case, when a firm paw swat on his hind end made him forget any ideas of that.

He made a small mrewl, whimpering as his father's paw landed again, then again, and again once more. By now, the cub was in tears, sniffling and crying on his father's lap. His mother halfway watched as she cleared the table.

The tiger swatted five or six more times before he stopped. He slid his son's shorts off, then set him on his feet. "In the corner cub, and keep those paws at your sides."

Rory sniffled and ran into the corner. He leaned against the walls there, fighting the urge to rub his rear end, sniffling until he stopped crying.

After his mother had finished washing and drying the dishes, she padded up behind him. "Son?"

He kept facing the corner. "Yes mommy?"

"We have a few chores we need to do today, you and I. And you know what will happen if you don't help me."

He nodded.

"What's that?"

Rory frowned a little. "I gets in trouble."

The tigress nodded, "That's right. Are you ready to help me? Or do you need to stay in your corner for a while more?"

"No, I can help you now."

She smiled, "Good. Come with me."

He followed her into the living room, where she handed a dry dustrag to him. "The shelves by the TV, the legs of the table and the chairs in here, and in the dining room, the TV itself, and the tables by the couches all need dusting."

He frowned at the list of things he had to do. "What you gonna do mommy?" he asked.

She watched him for a moment, then decided he wasn't getting fresh with his question, so she answered him calmly. "I'm vacuuming the floor in both rooms, as well as the couch and the seats of the chairs, and ironing both tablecloths."

Rory nodded, and they both got to work. Rory never liked the vacuum cleaner, so he did his dusting under the tables while she was cleaning the carpets and the cushions, always managing to be in the other room than the one she was vacuuming.

When she finished, her went about dusting the shelves and TV and end tables, while she ironed.

"Mommy?"

She looked down at him, "Yes?"

"How come we gotta do all this?"

She moved over to the couch, after turning off the iron, and motioned him over.

He padded to her side slowly.

"Son, do you like having a nice, clean house?"

He nodded.

"Do you think the house cleans itself son?"

"No."

"That's why we have to do these chores son."

He nodded again and was about to go back to his dusting, when he felt her pulling him back by the shoulder. He looked up at her, then frowned as she was leading him to the couch beside her.

"Bend over Rory."

He sighed and bent over the front of the couch. With one paw on his back, he found he could hardly move. His mother swatted him five times quickly, leaving stinging pawprints on his rear.

He whined, sniffling as she held him down. "I don't mind you asking questions son, but only if you want to know something you didn't before."

Rory nodded his head a little, rubbing at his face with his paws.

"Now, if I let you up, are you going to behave?"

"Uh huh mommy."

She let him up, "Good. You're almost done dusting too son."

He nodded, and they both returned to work. A few minutes later, both were finished.

Afterwards, she picked Rory up and carried him into his own bedroom. "I see you didn't get things picked up in here last night son."

Rory frowned as he looked around at all his toys. She set him down, standing in the doorway, "Pick everything up, then come back here."

Rory took as much time in picking up his room as he could. Slowly, he got everything put away, folded, and he straightened out his bed. Then he padded back to his mother.

She took him by the paw and led him back into her bedroom. "Up on the bed son."

He frowned, and climbed up. She sat down beside him, setting something on her bedside table. "Rory?"

He looked up at her.

"Didn't we tell you to put something away before you get out something else to play with?"

Rory could only nod.

"In that case son, I think you need something before I put you down for a nap."

He sighed and turned onto his front. His young ears perked up and he heard a deep, but soft growl coming from his mother.

"You are so going to get it now cub. I hadn't planned on using my brush, but now I think you need it."

He whined, but the sound was soon replaced by crying and tears, as well as the steady whack whack whack of the brush on his exposed backside.

Rory squirmed and cried, mrewling in the pain as the brush smacked his rear for the second time in as many days. The cub didn't know whether his father or his mother was worse with the brush. While his father had some kind of rhythm to his spanking, his mother seemed much more random about it.

He never knew where the next touch of the brush would be felt on him, nor how hard or soft it would be. Sometimes he could hardly feel the smack, and sometimes he thought she was hitting hard enough for his fur to fall out.

By the time she finished, his rump had a very bright red glow, even showing through his fur, and the pillow he was lying against had a small spot that was damp from cub tears.

She didn't need to even tell him he was being put down for a nap. After she finished with him, he fell fast asleep.

He was woken up a few hours later by his father gently shaking him, "Son?"

Rory yawned, looking up at him. "Mmm daddy?"

He smiled, "It's almost time for dinner son. Come along."

Rory yawned and stretched out as he followed his father into the kitchen. The cub sat uncomfortably in the wooden kitchen chair, but knowing the consequences, he tried to keep his squirming to a minimum.

His parents smiled to each other as the meal ended. Rory remained seated.

"What should we do tonight?"

"Well, I'm not sure my love." said his mother. "Perhaps a movie? Or a good evening of quiet reading?"

His father smiled, "Those both sound good." He looked to Rory. "You're being very patient son, thank you. Was there anything you had wanted to do this evening?"

Rory smiled, finally getting his chance to speak. "I like seein' movies with you ... an' playin's fun too."

His father smiled, "A movie does sound nice. But if we watch one here son, you're going to be quiet during the movie, ok?"

Rory nodded, "I can be quiet daddy."

His father stood up and helped Rory down from his chair. He knelt beside his son, smiling, "I'll pick something we all enjoy while you and your mother clean the dishes, ok?"

Rory smiled, nodding. He began to go towards his mother, when his father stopped him. "Hmm?"

"And son ... if you say a bad word tonight ... I'll deal with you, got it?"

Rory wasn't sure exactly what that would involve, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to find out. "Ok daddy."

His father gave him a firm swat on his rear, making Rory whine a little as he went back to his mother's side. After a warning like that, the cub was very careful with the dishes, and even more careful with what he said.

They finished the dishes without incident, and went back into the living room. His mother laid down on the couch, resting her head on his father's leg, and Rory sat on the floor.

His father turned on the movie, The Littlest Tyger, which was Rory's favorite. His parents kissed quietly on the couch, keeping an eye on the cub while he watched. He remembered his father's words, and stayed quiet the whole time, only smiling during the happy scenes, and even remaining silent during the dramatic scenes.

After the movie, he turned to look at his parents, who were just relaxing as far as he could see.

"Still like that one son?"

Rory nodded, smiling, "Yeah! It's my favorite!"

His parents chuckled. "I think it's time for bed, for all of us."

Rory frowned a little, but didn't say anything.

The three tigers padded into the large bedroom, beginning to settle in for bed. His mother beckoned him over again, "Come here cub."

Rory padded over quickly, correctly guessing he was being diapered for the evening. He didn't struggle this time, letting her diaper his freely. The three tigers settled into the warm bed, with a few comfortable sheets pulled over them.

That night, though Rory kissed both his parents goodnight, he curled up against his father's strong, muscular chest, nuzzling up to it as he got comfortable.

His father purrrred loud enough to make the whole bed rumble slightly, and Rory fell asleep as a very relaxed kitten.

He woke before his parents again, still snuggled to his father's chest. The young cub relieved himself in his diaper, but stayed awake this time, snuggled happily to the older tiger's warmth.

With a wide yawn that showed off his teeth, Rory's father woke. He smiled, pulling his son into a warm hug.

The cub purrred, nuzzling against his strong, loving arms. "Morning daddy."

He smiles, licking over his son's ears, "Good morning my son. Sleep well?"

Rory nodded, smiling.

His father patted his son's cloth diaper softly, feeling the wetness there. "And you stayed here in bed too I see."

Rory nodded, blushing a little.

His father picked his son up in his arms, then carried him into the restroom. "You need to go any more son?"

Rory shook his head.

"Alright then." he set the cub down and unfastened his diaper. Suddenly, the air conditioner started up, blowing a steady stream of cool air past Rory's cold, damp groin. The cub shivered, feeling himself tightening up, suddenly needing to wet again.

His father got a washcloth wet, in some warm water, and started wiping down his son. Rory shivered a little more, really feeling like he needed to go now.

"The AC a little cold for you son?"

Rory nodded quickly.

The older tiger chuckled, and continued cleaning the cub.

Rory shivered once more, then gave a sad, pitiful mrew.

"What's wrong son?"

Rory was about to answer, when his body answered for him. He frowned, as did his father a moment later, when a trickle of his pee started to flow. His father held the washcloth up in front of his son's crotch, letting the cloth soak up the sudden flow.

A few moments later, it ended. His father sighed, looking down at his son. "I thought you didn't have to go anymore son."

Rory frowned. "But I didn't mean to daddy! The air conditioner made me cuz it was so cold."

His father frowned in disbelief. Without saying another word, Rory felt himself being lifted up again, and carried. He found himself being carried backwards into his room. He was set down softly on his own bed, nude.

His father got down on one knee, looking nose-to-nose with his son. "I'm very disappointed in you son."

"But it wasn't my fault daddy!"

He sighed loudly, a sound almost like a growl now. "I'm going to get something from the backyard. If you want to sit down at all this summer, you'll stay right here cub."

Rory's bottom jaw trembled in fear, and in shame. "What ... you getting?"

His father stood up solemnly. "You'll see." He stepped out of the room.

Rory watched him leave, not knowing what to think. He frowned, and waited quietly, beginning to get a sense of dread in his gut. A ten minute eternity later, his father approached.

He held out a long, thin branch that looked like it had been stripped clean of all leaves and bark and rough edges.

"Do you know what this is son?"

Rory gulped. "A ... a stick?"

His father gave a small nod, "Well yes, but it's a specially prepared stick. Have you ever heard of a switch?"

Rory frowned. He'd heard other cubs at his school talking about them, and from how they described it, he wanted no part of it. He gave a small, fearful nod.

"Good. You know what to do then."

The cub set the pillows up as he had been instructed, and bent over the foot of the bed, positioning himself over the pillows, with his tail at the side, showing his backside.

His father rose to his paws, nodding, "Correct. You're only getting five with the switch now son, but if you act up today, you'll get five more before bed. Am I understood?"

Rory nodded, sighing into the pillow. He didn't want to know what a switch felt like, but he was about to find out anyway.

His father flicked his wrist quickly. The cub only heard a faint whirring sound as the switch cut through the air, then felt it's sting across his rear end. He howled out in pain, thinking his father had just torn apart the skin on his rear.

He watched his son's rear, noticing how quickly he could see the bright red welt forming in a long, but thin, line across his son's backside. Making sure not to cross the first line, he added a second, and then a third.

Rory roared out with as much might as his small body would let him. Each time it struck him, he lurched against the bed, then bit down on the pillow, screaming into it with his pain. Never had Rory ever felt anything so painful as this in his whole life. He just wanted it to end.

Still being careful not to cross any previous lines, knowing that could easily draw blood, he gave his son the final two swings of the switch.

Again, Rory screamed into the pillow. After the switching was done, he could only lay there, feeling like his backside had been ripped to shreds, bawling and whimpering, even afraid to touch his backside, even if his father had let him.

The older tiger sat on the bed, rubbing his son's back and neck , softly skritching him with his claws. He knew his son would need a long time to clam down from that punishment, and he stayed with him the whole time, rubbing, petting, skritching, and purrring gently to his son.

It was a good twenty minutes before Rory could stop whimpering and speak normally, though he was still sniffling. "Dat hurted a lot daddy!"

He nodded, "Yes son, I know."

"How do you know daddy?" he asked honestly.

His father pulled Rory up onto his lap, still lying on his front, and hugged his son tightly. "Because son, when I was a cub, from when I was your age until I was almost in puberty, that's what I normally got my punishments with."

Rory nuzzled against his father. The cub couldn't imagine getting that more than once. "You did?" he asked sympathetically.

His father nodded, licking over his son's ears. "Yes son, and believe me, I remember each one. But after the first one, believe me, I made up my mind not to get any more."

"Didja get more?"

His father chuckled a bit, nodding, "Yes son, more than a few times I got more with the switch."

Rory nodded, making up his mind suddenly, "Well I'm not gonna."

The older tiger grinned, "I'll keep you to that son."

The two snuggled together as Rory slowly began to feel better, forgetting about his backside. As early afternoon rolled around, Rory finally stood up. Walking still hurt a little, as did sitting down, but not so bad he couldn't do it anymore.

That afternoon, as a family, they got dressed and went to the backyard. Rory stayed close to his parents, helping them with the yardwork, mainly with the raking since he was too young to work the mower.

His father would mow one side of the yard, after Rory and his mother had cleared it of leaves and debris. Then, Rory and his mother went to the garden, while his father tended to their front yard.

"Now son, I want you to help me pick the weeds out."

He nodded, smiling.

"Now don't pull out anything unless I tell you to, and then only pull out what I tell you and nothing else."

"Ok mommy."

She smiled. They walked through the rows of her garden together, and she would point out a weed here and there for him to attack, and he would pull it out, root and all. She was also pleased that he wasn't taking out anything else.

"Mommy?" he asked as he stood form successfully removing another weed.

She smiled at him, the warm weather brightening everyone's mood. "Yes my son?"

"You was a cub too right?"

She chuckled, "A while ago, but yes, I was."

"You gots punished when you was a cub?"

She nodded, "Yes Rory I did."

They continued walking along, with Rory doing most of the weed pulling. "How was you punished?"

"Usually I was spanked with a furbrush son."

"Those hurt mommy."

She chuckled again, nodding, "Trust me son, I know."

They both smiled. She came to a stop and knelt down, with Rory going to his side. "Why ya stop mommy?"

She smiled, digging a little with her paws, "See son, my peppers are ready to be picked now."

"Can I help?"

She hugged her son to her chest, purrrring to him softly. "Yes son, of course you can. Just do as I do, alright?"

He nodded, eager to help. He watched as she gripped one of the large peppers by the stem, then twisted it a bit, and using the claws on her other paw, sliced the stem off.

Rory smiled. He was hardly ever allowed to use his claws.

They both went at it, twisting and slicing, though it usually took Rory a few swipes of his paw to break a pepper free. Some of the peppers were larger hat Rory's paw was.

They finished shortly, having a good harvest of sixteen green peppers.

"Can I carry them inside mommy?"

She smiled, "I think I'd better do it. I thank you though."

Rory frowned, but nodded, "Ok"

She watched him for a moment, then carried the peppers into the house. With Rory by her side, she washed them all off, then set them on the counter to dry.

"What we gonna do now?"

She smiled at him, "Come with me."

He followed her into the front yard, now that his father was finished there, and she knelt down by her flower garden.

"We picking more weeds?"

She nodded, "But only the ones I tell you to pull out son."

He nodded a little bit, "I know, I know."

She glanced at him again, but said nothing. She merely pointed to the ones that were weeds, and watching him closely, made sure he got them out. There weren't many weeds, so it only took her a few minutes to have Rory get them all.

She stood up and brushed off her pants. Rory dusted some dirt off the fur on his knees.

"Come along." He followed her to the side of the house, where the hose was. "Son, can you carry the end of the hose back up by my flowers please?"

He nodded, pulling the hose carefully as she unwound it from the wall.

"There?" she called around the side of the house.

"Yeah!"

"Ok son. Aim it at the grass and hold it for me please?"

"Sure!"

She nodded, thinking he was over his little pout, and turned the water on a little ways. As she walked back around to the front of the house, she got quite a surprise.

Rory was standing, and aiming the hose away from her flowers, but with his attention on something in one of the trees, the young orange-and-black cub didn't watch what way the water was spraying.

He heard a loud growl, only to look towards it and see his mother standing, with a large wet patch soaking her shirt and her jeans.

Rory saw her, and though he didn't want to, he started laughing.

She growled again and started stalking towards him, getting wetter. "Give me the hose Rory!"

Rory gave it to her, still laughing at the scene. She sighed and turned the water on the flowers, muttering to herself.

A few minutes later, she stopped, and Rory had calmed by then. She turned the hose off, and coiled it up, then looked at Rory, with a very unhappy look on her face.

Rory started to frown.

"Inside. Now."

Rory padded slowly towards the door. A growl from his mother made him scurry faster.

As his mother was padding inside, his father came around the other corner of the house.

His mother just glared at him. "Don't even think about it."

He gave a nod, keeping his face calm, though he was chuckling on the inside. "Let me guess."

She only nodded to him and continued inside. His father sighed.

She walked past Rory's room, and stopped. "Get undressed. Now." She walked past to her own room, to undress, dry off, then go into her son's room. She grabbed her wooden furbrush on the way.

Rory was undressed when she arrived at his room. He looked up at her with pitiful eyes.

"Oh, you're sorry now Rory?"

He nodded, "Yeah mommy."

She sat down on his bed, motioning to her lap, "I intend to make sure you are. You'd have been spanked for this anyway cub, even if we weren't trying to teach you something this weekend."

Rory only nodded as he climbed over her lap, slightly thankful his mother never used the belt on him. He felt his tail being moved to the side carefully by her paw, then that same paw holding his back down, keeping him on her lap. She swatted him once, hard. He yelped softly.

"Did you think soaking me with the hose was funny son?"

He didn't want to admit that it was an accident, nor did he want to admit that he found it funny all the same. He only shrugged.

She smacked him again, hard, four more times with the brush. He began to sniffle and mrewl, tears welling up in his eyes.

"So would you have sprayed your father with the hose?"

Rory thought about it and shook is head.

He got another five hard whacks of the furbrush on his rear, leaving warm, burning patches on his skin there. The cub was crying now, sniffling, panting through his sobs.

"I'm very upset with you Rory."

Then, she truly went at it. The brush swung up and down again and again, making sure the cub could feel her anger.

He kicked his feet, crying out loud, the tears running in rivers down his young face. He whined, he sniffled, he bawled on her lap as she continued on him.

After a good, solid five minutes of spanking his rear with the brush, she came to a stop. Rory was crying so hard and so loud he could barely breathe. As he panted, his mother set him down on his bed, on his front, watching him.

Now that the punishment had finally stopped, Rory curled up on his belly, crying to himself. His mother remained by his side, rubbing the back of his head softly.

His crying slowly tapered off, but even as he was able to speak and breathe normal, his backside still stung like it had just been attacked by bees. He looked up at his mother, and was at least relieved that she looked calmer, and happier.

She smiled back at him, "Think you learned something this weekend son?"

Rory nodded quickly.

"Alright then. Let's see what your father's up to."

Rory nodded and climbed down by her side, slowly following her as she went through their house. They found him in the living room, watching TV, a bit of a smile on his face.

"Everything taken care of?"

The tigress smiled. "Why don't you show him Rory?"

Rory frowned, but turned, bending over slightly.

He heard the deep laughter of his father. "I see that it was. Do you think he'll need another dose before bed my love?"

She motioned Rory to get up. "I think we'll have to wait and see how he behaves."

"True, very true."

His mother curled up against his father, "It is becoming late though. I should get dinner going."

He nodded. "You do that. I want a word with our cub."

His mother patted her son's head and went to fix dinner. Rory found himself being pulled in front of his father.

He stood there, with his paws behind his back, looking up at him.

"Son, why did you do that to your mother?"

"I dunno."

"You know you should not have done that, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Did you know before she punished you?"

"Uh huh."

"So why did you do it then?"

"I don't know daddy."

The older tiger sighed, nodding, "I see. Why don't you come up here?"

Rory frowned, but climbed up on his father's lap. To his pleasant surprise, his father wasn't planning another punishment, at least not yet. He sat his son down on his leg, holding him quietly.

Rory's backside stung and burned still, even more so when he was made to sit on his father's muscular leg. The tiger held him there though, holding him close. After a bit, he rocked the cub softly, making them both smile.

A short while later, they sat down to eat, Rory still squirming on his sore backside. Rory frowned at what he saw. "Aww .. not fish."

His mother frowned at the cub. "Fish is good for you son."

His father joined in as well, "And I think you should eat it son."

"Do I have to?" he asked, whining.

His father made a small growl, his mother nodding as she knew what was coming. "Well son ... you can eat it, and wait a bit before you get the switch again and gets ent to bed ... or we can do that now."

Rory frowned, mewling pitifully. He sulked, but started eating slowly, trying not to eat the food he hated so much. He ate slowly, trying not to think about what was coming.

His father finally stood up, "Rory?"

The cub looked up at him.

"Go in your room and wait for me. You know how."

The cub sighed and padded off to his room, sniffling a little already.

A few minutes later, his father padded in, carrying the switch from earlier.

"Son?"

Rory looked over is shoulder at the tiger, whimpering when he saw the switch.

"You know you have this coming."

Rory turned his head back to the pillow, biting down n it, and giving a small nod.

His father moved his son's tail aside, patting his son's bottom softly with the switch. "You know son, if you could behave, we wouldn't need to do this."

Rory stayed still.

He nodded. "Perhaps tomorrow we'd best have a talk about things. But first ... " he flicked the switch, sending a sudden burst of tears down his son's face as he jumped against the bed, biting down hard on his pillow so as not to scream.

The second swing made the cub just lay there, whining pitifully and mrelwing between his pants for breath.

The third one made him jump again, but otherwise his body was still, though from the tears and the screams his father could even hear through the pillow, he knew his son was feeling everything.

The fourth time the switch touched his son, he jerked against the bed, shivering, bawling his eyes out.

The fifth, and final time, his son leaned his head back, the pillow still in his muzzle, and roared! out in cub pain and anguish.

His father set the switch on top of Rory's dresser, then sat down beside the bawling, pained cub. The father sat down, hugging his son to his chest, letting the cub cry against his shoulder all he needed to.

And Rory did cry, a lot. His father laid back on the bed, letting Rory snuggle up to him as the pain still worked out the cub's tears. He began to purrrr softly, lovingly to his son, hoping the comforting sound would help him to calm down.

Close to half an hour later, Rory was still in pain, but calmed somewhat, and no longer crying. He even smiled for a moment when his father licked him on the nose.

"Now son ... do you ever want to have a weekend like this again?"

Rory did not need to be asked twice. He shook his head. "Nuh uh. Not ever!"

The father chuckled, "No, I didn't think so. Tell me son, what will you do if you need help with something, anything?"

"I'll come to you or mommy."

"Good. Even if you're afraid we might be mad at you?"

Rory gave another nod, "Uh huh. Even then."

His father kissed his son's cheek. "Even better. And this fall, what are you going to do?"

"Pay attention?"

"And you will study."

Rory nodded quickly. "Yeah!"

"And son, some tutoring this summer might not be so bad, either."

Rory nodded, but not with as much enthusiasm as before.

His father grinned, "I don't mean all summer son. You'll have lots of time to play if you're a good cub, but a refresher before school starts is in order, ok?"

Rory nodded, "Well, ok."

"Good. Now I'm going to need you to lay on your back."

Rory frowned.

"I know it will hurt son, but you are being diapered again tonight."

"I sleeping with you and mommy too?"

He nodded, "Yes son. This will be over in the morning."

Rory frowned, but laid on the bed on his back, whimpering as his very sore cub behind touched the bed.

His father unrolled two cloth diapers for the cub, set him down on them, then carefully pinned the diaper snug around his son's rear. He then lifted the worn out cub up and carried him to bed.

They laid down next to each other, the father hugging the son as they began to sleep. "Daddy?"

He yawned. "Mmm ... yes Rory?"

"I love you daddy."

The tiger smiled, kissing his son on the face again, "I love you too son, no matter what you say or do."

"Really?"

The tiger settled into the bed, nearly asleep, "Yes son, that's a promise."

Rory and his father purrred together as they fell asleep. A minute later, his mother climbed into the bed and curled up with them.

That evening, Rory slept between the two furs he loved the most, and they slept protectively against the little cub they loved more than anything else in the world.

THE END