Turning the tables

I’ve already told you about my first time over my stepmom’s knee, and my last – but this is story of the first time someone went across my own lap.

I was 17 and given the job of babysitting two cousins (technically step-cousins) – a 10-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy. Though they weren’t raised in quite such a strict manner as I was, a sore bottom certainly wasn’t out of the question for them.

The first time I sat for them, everything was fine. However, on the second occasion, Michelle had a real attitude. She never out and out disobeyed or broke rules – but anyone that has been around a moody young girl knows how unpleasant they can be. I was unsure of myself and resorted to telling her parents. 

When I got home, I also vented to Mom a bit about the situation. Mom must have called her brother about it and next thing I knew, the next time I was there, I had permission to spank them if needed.

Well, this threat worked wonders (or perhaps a spanking given after I had left the last time did the trick). Whatever, Michelle’s attitude was much improved the next few times I sat.

However, a few sessions later, William got himself in trouble. He thought it was the height of hilarity to fart in whatever room either I or his sister was in, run out and shut the door behind him. I gave him one warning. Then, when he did it again, I steeled myself to discipline him.

I really didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have the brush my mom used but Michelle helpfully pointed me in the direction of a ping pong paddle – apparently, it didn’t occur to her that my having that knowledge might later be bad for her!

Anyway, I sat down, removed William’s pants and underwear and tried my best to lecture him. I admit it didn’t go great – but I got my point across and turned him over my lap.

I raised the paddle and…well, there was a little ‘pop’ but and no reaction from the child across my knee. I tried a bit harder – but still nothing. I paused for a moment, trying to replay the spankings my step-siblings had gotten, and I remembere howd Mom would kind of snap her wrist as she brought the brush down.

I tried the same with the paddle, and that got a little squirm out of the boy at least. I kept ramping it up from there, swinging and popping his slowly reddening tail, until finally I had him in a mess of tears and kicking his feet. I continued for another 20 seconds or so before letting William up and ordering him to replace his clothing.

It would be a long time before that boy played me up again – but before too long, his sister would come to rue telling me where to find the paddle, as it got used on her bare rump.

Contributor: Erica

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