When I was little, my mother sent me to my grandmother’s house to get oranges since my grandmother had a tree with them growing in her yard.
I grabbed a bagful of oranges and began walking home, but on the way home I ran into some friends. I decided to play with them for a while, and unfortunately I was so concentrated our game that when it was over, I forgot to take the oranges with me.
When I finally returned home, my mother was waiting with an angry look on her face. “How come you took so long to return, Manuel? And where are the oranges?”
It was only then that I realised I had accidentally left them behind. “Where are they now?” my mother repeated. “Tell me the truth!” I honestly couldn’t quite remember where I had left them, and meekly admitted as much to my mother. She looked very severe. “Well, Manuel, I will make you remember where you left them.”
She took me by the hand and led me into the living room, where she sat down on the couch. “Drop your pants this moment!” she ordered. My sister was there, laughing because I was going to be spanked, and I very reluctantly slid down my trousers.
“And the rest!” my mother demanded, adding: “There’s nothing in those underpants your sister and I haven’t seen many times before, you naughty boy!”
Now blushing like a beetroot, I took down my briefs, exposing both my bottom and my small, hairless genitals. As soon as I had obeyed, my mother put me firmly across her knee and I felt a breeze from the open window blow across my naked buttocks.
Mother then addressed my sister. “Rebeca, can you please bring me the spanking brush from my room, then once you’ve done that, please go out and look for those oranges for me, there’s a good girl.”
Rebeca came back with the brush after a few moments, her smug smiling eyes fixed directly on my bottom bared ready for punishment. Then she left us and mother raised the brush, bringing it down across my bottom crack for the first of many hard smacks.
She spanked me hard and methodically, alternating between each buttock and a stroke in the centre across my crack. I was howling but still being spanked when Rebeca returned with the oranges, which she had found under a tree fairly nearby.
Finally, the spanking finished. I was stood back up, a mess of snot and tears. My mother told me to go up to my room just as I was, and I felt Rebeca’s gaze searing into me as I waddled up the stairs to an early bedtime, her eyes following the two little buttocks that were now the colour not of oranges, but very ripe apples! It was a lesson I remembered for a very long time.