My parents never spanked me when I was growing up. They often threatened to do it – but I would change my behaviour quickly, as I had seen my sister get spanked and it looked awful!
One time, when I was 12, my parents had to go out of town to visit my grandfather, who had been admitted to the hospital for surgery. They left me in the care of Margie, a family friend.
Margie was one of the sweetest, kindest people you’d ever meet. However, I knew that she spanked her children when they misbehaved. When my parents dropped me off, they discussed briefly the types of things I was and wasn’t allowed to do at home.
They also told Margie that if I misbehaved, she was welcome to treat me as one of her own and punish me as she saw fit. I didn’t think too much about this, as I expected to pretty much stay out of trouble.
Well, it only took a day for things to turn ugly. Her son Willy had been roughhousing around the house, and was pressuring me to let loose and have some fun, too. So we were getting a little wild and the next thing I knew, a picture had been knocked off the wall, and the glass broke.
Willy took off running but for some reason I just stood there, pretty much aware that there was nowhere to hide. Margie came running into the hallway, looked at the picture, looked at me and got a really angry look on her face. She did not say a word, but came over to me, grabbed my ear and led me to the living room. She told me to wait by the couch and said she’d be right back.
Margie came back about a minute later and I almost gasped out loud when I saw that she had a large hairbrush in her hand. I tried to tell her that it was Willy’s fault but the words didn’t come out right and I was stuttering, my eyes were focused on the hairbrush she was holding.
She stood there listening, with her arms folded and her toe tapping impatiently on the floor, until it became obvious that I would not be able to talk my way out of this predicament.
Margie went over to the couch and sat down. She was an attractive woman, and was wearing tight jeans and a tank top. She told me to come over to where she was sitting. I did, and she reached over and unbuttoned my pants and quickly pulled them down.
I was mortified at the thought of her seeing me in my underwear at the age of 12 but before I knew it, I was across her lap, looking right at the floor, three inches from my nose. I felt my underwear being pulled down and the cool air on my behind.
It was then that I realised that since this was my first spanking ever, I had no idea if I would be able to take it or not. I didn’t really have a choice. Without a word, she began smacking my behind with the hairbrush. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt! I didn’t think that much pain was possible! It was loud, too.
She started out slowly, covering a different part of my bottom with each smack, then moving to the backs of my thighs. After about 30 smacks they started getting harder and faster. I would yelp at each smack, then at about 50 smacks, she started hitting the same spot twice before moving around.
By this time, I was crying out loud and felt stupid for sounding like such a baby. Finally, after about a total of about 100 smacks, she stopped. She let me get up and finally said something.
“John,” she said, “You may think I have been harsh on you, but you deserved every minute of it. If you ever misbehave in this house again, you’ll get more of the same! Now, you go to the guest room and stay there until dinner time.”
I was relieved that it was over and left quickly. I lay on my stomach for about two hours, my bottom throbbing from the beating it had just endured. Then Willy’s father came home. I heard Margie talking to him as he took off his jacket and shoes.
I heard faintly that Willy was to be dealt with by him, and I was so glad that it wouldn’t be me! I was even more relieved when I learned later that having Willy’s dad deal with you meant getting the belt!