The coffee table

I remember getting spanked several times while a young boy – but one particular incident stands out more than others in my mind. This particular incident began when my mother called my older brother and I into the living room. Someone had written on her coffee table and she was steamed!

She asked us who had written on the table and when neither one of us admitted to doing it, she said that she would spank both of us until someone confessed. My brother and I knew we were in serious trouble when she told us to follow her into our bedroom.

Despite knowing that our efforts to escape our punishment would be futile, my brother and I begged not to be spanked. I dreaded my mother’s spankings; they were painful and embarrassing.

My older brother was the first to go. My mother sat on the edge of the bed and told my brother: “Come here”. He walked over to her saying: “Please mom, no!” Without saying a word, she unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down to his ankles. Then she grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled that down as well.

She hitched up her dress and laid my brother over her lap. When my brother was secure across my mother’s lap, she began slapping his bare bottom very rapidly. His ball sack, which seemed huge to me, flopped between his legs as the blows landed.

At first he began to squirm, then he began to cry. Once he was crying seriously, she administered about 25 more stinging blows, then let him up off her lap. His butt was bright red from the spanking. I watched the whole incident in horror, knowing I would be next.

She called me over to her, pulled my pants and underwear down and laid me over her lap. She then proceeded to furiously spank my naked backside. When I could no longer take it, I began to weep profusely. My spanking continued for another minute or two, and I was then allowed to pull my pants up.

This happened for several ’rounds’, with my brother and I being asked to say who had written on the table. When no confession was given, our pants were lowered and we were spanked. After a while, my six-year-old sister heard the commotion and stood at the open door to watch us being spanked. This only heightened my feelings of embarrassment but after a while, I didn’t even bother to pull up my pants.

After getting another spanking, my brother got off mom’s lap with a firm erection pointing up and away from his body (it must have been the friction from rubbing against her nylons), and I felt sorry for him as he tucked his boner in his pants.

When my bottom was so sore that I could stand it no further, I confessed to writing on the table (to this day I don’t remember doing it). Mom then made me clean up the table.

After I had cleaned it up, she took me back to my room for my last and most painful spanking. My bottom was so sore from the previous spankings that I began to cry after the first few swats. When it was all over, my butt was sore for quite some time.

Contributor: Dane

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