It started with myself and a few of my friends in our car in a superstore car park. We were about to drive off when we heard the very distinctive sound of a child being spanked – a hand repeatedly smacking flesh, and the bawling crying of a boy being punished.
A few bays away, there was a black SUV with its right back door open and a small group of people looking in. Curious as to what was happening, I joined then.
Sitting in the vehicle was a very smartly dressed lady, in her mid-40s at a guess. Over her lap was a young boy of around nine or 10 years old. His trousers and pants had been tugged down to his ankles and the woman was very soundly spanking his bare bottom. Her hand was absolutely relentless in striking the boy’s bum and upper thighs.
The woman seemed oblivious to the audience she had attracted and was taking her time between each smack. From the scolding which accompanied the correction, I gathered that this was her son and he had been caught shoplifting at a nearby shop.
Tears and snot were streaming down the boy’s face as he cried loudly from the spanking he was receiving, his cries increasing with the application of every smack.
As I continued to look on, I noticed that beside the woman on the seat was a small wooden paddle, the size of a hairbrush, that would have easily fitted into any handbag. I realised then that this was a mother who was not ashamed or embarrassed to spank her son wherever and whenever it was needed.
Pausing for a moment, she picked up the paddle and laid it across the boy’s already red and sore bottom so he could feel the coolness of the wood. Then, lifting it, she brought it back down hard across his cheeks. He screamed and continued to scream as the paddle struck him a dozen times.
As mum put the paddle back beside on the seat beside her, there was an spontaneous outbreak of applause from the adults who had just witnessed the boy’s well-deserved punishment.
Not everyone was as keen on the spectacle, though. A few children standing next to their parents were squirming, perhaps remembering their own past spankings.
I then noticed that one little girl in particular had wet herself, perhaps from fright. There was a wet puddle on the ground between her legs and a dark stain on the front of the dress she was wearing. Her own mother gave her a swift smack across her clothed bottom, causing an instant outbreak of further crying, before dragging her away. Whether or not that little girl was taken to a close-by rest room to have her soaking panties removed and put over mum’s lap for a bare bottom spanking, I’ll never ever know – but I like to think so.
Another middle-aged man was looking very red in the face, and I remember wondering if he had just ejaculated in his own pants at what he had just witnessed. Had he, perhaps imagined being that boy, so publicly spanked, or had he been spanked in such a way in his past? Again, I’ll never know.
With the boy still crying loudly, his mother pulled him up off her lap, and with his clothing still around his ankles, she strapped him into the car seat before getting out of the back and moving around to the driver’s seat. Not acknowledging anyone there, she started the car and drove away.
It was the most incredible thing I had ever witnessed, and I felt so aroused by what I had seen. I knew I would be masturbating many times in the days, weeks and months ahead as I relived the spanking I and many others had just witnessed.