Explosive!

Disclaimer: This is a story about the punishment spanking of a 15 year old boy and a 15 year old girl. The boy is me. I was unexpectedly spanked by my girlfriend's mother. If you're under 18 don't read this! If you do read this and you are under age you should be spanked!

I was 13 the last time I got spanked by my parents. Being a black child raised in a predominantly black neighborhood my brothers and I accepted spankings as a normal, "nothing out of the ordinary", consequence for misbehaving. Both parents spanked us, but it was mom who primarily handled most of our discipline. When I reached my teens however, because of the embarrassment of having my mother see my briefs and then pulling them in between my buttocks (or even at times pulling them down completely) and giving me the spanking of my life with her slipper, belt, or hairbrush, I made certain I behaved myself so that I wouldn't end up getting the spanking of my life at 14 and 15. But outside my parent's influence I had the tendency to become quite lax with my behavior. I also got spanked!

What I never told my parents, for fear I would get it again for misbehaving over someone else's house, was that other parents, those of my friends, have spanked me as well. It happened when I was ten (bare bottom with my briefs pulled down just below my buttocks), again when I was 13 and away at summer camp (I was spanked over my briefs by one of the white counselors who threatened to pull them down next time and give it to me bare if I was naughty again), when I was 15 (bare bottom), again at 17 (over my slacks), and even when I was 18. But those humiliating experiences are for future stories (which I may or may not tell).

The story I'm relaying to you took place when I was 15. I remember it well because I was so embarrassed when it happened. I was friends with this girl named Kaitlynn Charity. We met in high school, ninth grade. The two of us weren't romantically involved since neither one of us were ready for that favorite American teenage past time. I only wanted to play basketball, see horror movies, get into mischief (which sometimes got me spanked), and have fun like I used to before becoming a teenager and going into high school. How I got interested in girls is another story.

Kaitlynn was sort of a Tomboy, which made hanging out with her pretty cool. She was a light complexioned black girl with long wavy hair that she wore in a double ponytail just to get it out of the way. She didn't like fussing with her hair the way other girls did. Like me, Kaitlynn was very good looking and had already entered puberty. She had firm B-cup breasts, long pointy nipples (which I saw the impressions of through her clothing from time to time), and a cute shape that looked good in a bikini. In high school the boys of course noticed her, but she really wasn't that interested in them. That was one of the main reasons why she and I became such good friends. Neither one of us was interested in dating, kissing, or sex. Especially the latter. We weren't about to expose our privates to anyone. But despite my lack of interest in girls, I had, like any other normal adolescent, successfully gone through puberty and was experiencing sexual feelings on a regular basis.

It was summer vacation, the second week of June, and school was out when Kaitlynn and I got into trouble. I was wearing a T-shirt and white khaki shorts and Kaitlynn was wearing a bright yellow, flarey, mini sundress with sandals. As a result I was constantly seeing her pretty, lime green, bikini panties-mostly the seat and crotch since we both were squatting down and playing in the soil near her mother's flower garden. And I would especially see her panties when the warm summer breeze, that was constantly blowing, periodically puffed up her dress. I remember this so vividly because her panties had ruffled leg openings and I thought they were very pretty.

Kaitlynn caught me looking under her dress a couple of times, but just smiled and didn't make an issue out of it. And neither did I, even though I still got an erection. But at the time, since turning 14, I had been getting them quite frequently. And what I could not quite understand at the time was that I knew I had been seeing girls' panties all my life-since kindergarten but I had never really paid that much attention to it other than to tease them from time to time about what I saw, but seeing their panties now was affecting me much differently. I now looked forward to looking at them every chance I got. In fact, I even found myself, from time to time, trying to look under the dresses of the girls in my high school as they sat at their desk.

On this one particular day Kaitlynn and I had managed to get our hands on some illegal fireworks. Since July was only weeks away and everyone would be celebrating the 4th they were available all over the neighborhood. We were quite excited with our new toy. Kaitlynn and I had purchased a bunch of cherry bombs from the Wilber twins, a white teenage brother and sister who lived in our neighborhood along with a noticeable number of Polish immigrant families.

As I already stated, Kaitlynn and I were in her back yard near her mother's flower garden playing in the soil. I don't want you to think that we were being juvenile like children in a sandbox because that definitely was not the case; Kaitlynn and I were into mushroom clouds. We were burring the cherry bombs in the soil, two and three at a time, sometimes five, and blowing them up, getting off on the hand grenade-like explosions. We thought the effect looked really cool. Unfortunately for us, Kaitlynn's mother didn't share our perspective.

After three explosions and topsoil all over the place, Mrs. Charity came running out the house yelling at us, wanting to know what in the hell we were doing. Realizing this may not have been a good idea we both looked at her scared. Then she discovered the cherry bombs in our possessions and demanded to know where we got them. We told her we bought them from some kids in the neighborhood, lying to keep the Wilbers out of it. Loretta Wilber could really fight and squealing on her was a guaranteed ass whipping.

"Don't you know this is illegal! You could go to jail for this!" She scolded. She took the cherry bombs and threw them in the trash and doused them with water from the water hose. "Kaitlynn, you know better than this! I will not tolerate you breaking the law! You could have brought the police to this house and we would have all been in trouble! You're getting a spanking, young lady!"

"Aw, Mom!" She exclaimed, horrified and embarrassed that her mother had said this in front of me. I knew she didn't want anyone to know she still got spankings. And until now I never knew she did. But I felt the same way. I didn't want any of my friends to know I got spankings either. When you're a teenager that's the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you. It was also one of the main reasons you tried to stay out of trouble.

Mrs. Charity then turned her attention to me (for purposes of this story and because I'm still embarrassed about it, I will go by the name Randall) and said, "As for you, Randall, you're going straight home! You're old enough to know better than to play with firecrackers. You two are sophomores in high school for goodness sake! Where are your brains? I'm calling your parents and I'm going to insist they spank you as well!"

Trying to save my bottom and not get in trouble since I still got spankings up till the age of 16, I lied and said as convincingly as I could, "You'll only be wasting your time, Mrs. Charity. My parents don't spank. They don't believe in it. The only thing they'll do is yell at me."

Mrs. Charity, like her daughter, was very pretty. She was taller than both of us at that time but really wasn't that much larger. Because she was so pretty and looked good in the blouse and tight short-shorts she was wearing she didn't appear at all like a threat. In fact, I found her appearance quite appealing even though I knew she was angry. Mrs. Charity looked at me and giving me a very stern parental look, she put her hands on her hips and said, "Is that so?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I continued to lie. No way did I want her to call my parents.

"Well, young man, we're going to have to do something about that, aren't we? Playing with firecrackers are dangerous and you could get into a lot of trouble. But I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to make sure you don't!" With that, before I realized what was happening, she grabbed me by the ear and started marching me, along with Kaitlynn, into her house. I complained, but she ignored me. Because of what happened to me with that Polish family when I was ten years old, getting spanked by my friend's mother, I knew I was going to get a spanking right along with Kaitlynn. Suddenly I began to panic. I felt so embarrassed. So ashamed.

Mrs. Charity marched us into her husband's study den and closed the door. She fumbled with the knob for a second or two and then turned and faced us. "Kaitlynn, you first," she said.

She took her daughter, horrified because I was standing there watching, across her lap. Knowing that I was going to be spanked next I watched both in fear and fascination. Mrs. Charity then grabbed a wooden spoon that was already on the desk, pulled up Kaitlynn's dress, pulled down her pretty, light green, ruffled panties, and spanked her HARD! The spoon made loud smacking sounds against her plump buttocks. Kaitlynn began crying out in pain and squirming over her mother's knee immediately as the wooden spoon repeatedly left behind red round splotches all over her bottom.

Mrs. Charity scolded her about playing with matches and fireworks, telling her that at 15 she should know better and then twisted her right arm behind her back and began hitting her hard and fast with the wooden spoon, her hand now moving in a blur! Kaitlynn really started to cry and scream as the burning sting of the wooden spoon rapidly became torturously unbearable. She was kicking her legs up and down so much so that her panties fell from her knees to her ankles. As she went into a screaming-crying fit, promising never to do it again, I watched her panties stretching across her protesting ankles. Because of the way she was squirming over her mother's lap I could see her anus and vulva very clearly peeping out from under her now very sore and very red buttocks. I got an erection and then became embarrassed because of it. But it quickly went down when it became my turn.

When Mrs. Charity finally released Kaitlynn she just continued cry and cry, sobbing loudly, and rubbing her bottom with both hands; hopping from toe to toe. Her mother had given her a severe spanking. No wonder she stayed out of trouble and was so well behaved at school, I thought. Mrs. Charity didn't play. As Kaitlynn carried on I saw her redden buttocks and her pubic hairs, but at the moment, because she was in so much pain, she didn't care what I saw. She could have been completely naked at that point and it would not have mattered. Again I watched her panties stretching across her ankles as she did her stationary pain dance. After she calmed down, she once again became embarrassed and quickly bent down to pull up her panties. Mrs. Charity stopped her. "Leave those panties right where they are!" She snapped. Frightened and still in tears, Kaitlynn quickly obeyed, standing straight up. Mrs. Charity then turned her attention to me. I gasped! This beautiful, mature, black woman suddenly became very frightening to me. "All right, Randall, your turn," she said sternly.

Suddenly I turned and ran for the door. It was locked! Now, being a 15-year old boy, 5'4" and weighing 102 pounds you'd figure I'd be more than a match for any normal sized woman. After all, Mrs. Charity only had me outweighed by about 30 pounds. Well that's what I figured too and tried to resist when she grabbed me from behind, telling her to let go of me go as she pulled me from the door. But she ignored my protest and to my horror lifted me in her arms and sort of carried and dragged me over to the hardback chair where she had just finished spanking her daughter. I was shocked at how helpless I was. On TV and in the movies males were always the stronger and you never saw a woman handling them the way Mrs. Charity was handling me. And at 15 I considered myself adult. What a laugh.

With surprising strength Mrs. Charity threw me over her lap, gave my bottom several hard slaps with her hand and hurting me right through my briefs and white khaki shorts, telling me very forcefully to be still. Then she titled my body, reached underneath me, expertly unbuckled my belt, unzipped my zipper, and pulled my shorts down to my ankles-to which they fell off my legs completely being that the leg openings were so large. It was at that point I realized she had spanked boys before. I later found out, from Kaitlynn, that Mrs. Charity has repeatedly spanked two of Kaitlynn's teenage male cousins. As I was held over Mrs. Charity's lap I looked over at Kaitlynn, she was still rubbing her bottom with her panties down around at her ankles, looking at me with tear filled eyes. I was so embarrassed, so ashamed I didn't know what to do. I was a boy, I was 15 years old and I was being spanked in front of a girl who went to my high school by her mother no less! I was so humiliated and distressed and so afraid of what was going to happen to my bottom with that wooden spoon I couldn't even enjoy looking at Kaitlynn's curly pubic triangle as she continued to rub her sore buttocks. In fact, I barely noticed it.

"Hmm, your little briefs are very pretty, Randall. Your mother has a excellent taste." She knew I didn't buy them.

I was wearing bright, teal blue, cotton briefs. Being raised with manners and taught to be polite all my life, I said, before I realized it, "Thank you, ma'am." And then blushed with embarrassment.

Mrs. Charity chuckled and said, "You won't be thanking me for long."

Again I blushed, feeling really stupid. She was going to give me a spanking and like an idiot I was being polite.

Mrs. Charity twisted my right arm behind my back, slightly hurting me and making gasp; and as I cried, "Nooooo" she did exactly what I knew she was going to do, she slid down my briefs, baring my naked buttocks to her eyes and to Kaitlynn who was still looking at me and crying.

"Mrs. Charity, you have no right to do this," I complained, now on the verge of tears myself. I was so ashamed. This can't be happening, I thought to myself. How I would ever live this down?

"Oh yes I do! You misbehaved on my property! You do not play with fireworks, Randall! Here or anywhere else! They're dangerous and they are not toys! You could lose a finger or a hand!" She picked up the wooden spoon. "You're going to remember this whenever you sit down for the next couple of days. I guarantee it!" Then she went on to give me the spanking of my life! There were loud popping sounds and an intense stinging sensation of burning pain on my buttocks each time the wooden spoon landed. It hurt so badly I could barely stand it. I tried not to cry, but when she started raining down the spanks in rapid succession I bawled like a five year old. My face was red and wet with tears. My bottom even redder. And like Kaitlylnn minutes before me, I frantically kicked my legs up and down and tried to get off her lap. But Mrs. Charity handled me like I was a baby. There was no escape! She really gave it to me and gave it to me HARD! I was soon in a screaming-crying fit and pleading with her to stop, promising never to play with fireworks again. I kicked my legs up and down so much so that my briefs went flying across the room. I was like a screaming two year old who just brunt his hand on the stove. But that spanking she gave me really hurt! And I mean really, really, really HURT! My buttocks, both of them, were crimson red and ablaze.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the awful spanking ended. I sobbed and hollered and vigorously rubbed my scalded bottom with both hands-minus my shorts and my briefs that were now a useless clutter on the floor. In front of both females, because I was doing a frantic pain dance, my penis and balls shamelessly flapped up and down in front of me. But like Kaitlynn earlier I didn't care that I was half-naked. I just wanted the fire in my bottom to cease! After I calmed some Mrs. Charity made both of us stand facing the wall, positioned one right next to each other with our buttocks, now red and sore, on display. It was humiliating. We both hated it. As part of our punishment we had to stand there for one hour. Mrs. Charity made sure we wouldn't forget this lesson anytime soon.

Kaitlynn and I didn't say anything to each other, we were too ashamed. We just cried softly to ourselves, tears rolling down our faces. In fact, we hardly even looked at each other. At the time I thought I would die of humiliation. My male ego was devastated. Mrs. Charity made a 15 year old boy realize he was just a child. When Kaitlynn's mother returned, she called Kaitlynn over to her and sat her on her lap and hugged her. She asked her if she was going to be a good girl from now on and Kaitlynn said, "Yes, Mommy. I'm sorry was I naughty. I won't do it again." Then she let her up off her lap and called me over to her. "Would like a hug too, Randall?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, still upset. This was new to me. My parents, after a spanking, didn't hug. They were usually still angry with my me or my brothers.

She turned her attention to her daughter and said. "All right, Kaitlynn, you may pull up your panties." Then she sat me on her lap and cuddled me. I cried some more. Kaitlynn pulled up her panties and pulled down her dress while I sat on her mother's lap in tears. After I stopped crying Mrs. Charity asked, "Can I count on you to be a good boy from now on and not play with matches or firecrackers any more, Randall?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "I won't do it any more. I promise."

"Good boy. I know I hurt you when I spanked you. But one day when you don't get arrested or get in trouble with the police for breaking the law you'll thank me for this. You can get into serious trouble for harboring illegal fireworks, Randall, and people in this town have already been arrested and sent to jail for what you got my daughter involved in. There are men in prison who would find someone as handsome as you very cute. You understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

She let me up off her lap. "Ok. Put your underpants and shorts back on." Blushing with embarrassment, I suddenly remembered I was half-naked and quickly dressed while Kaitlynn and Mrs. Charity watched. I turned my back to them so they could not see my penis.

"Ma'am," I said after I was dressed.

"Yes," Mrs. Charity said.

"Please don't tell my mother and father about this."

She smiled. "So you do still get spankings?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I lied to you because I didn't want you to tell them.

"And if I told them?" She asked, smiling knowingly.

"I'll get another spanking." I was really scared. My bottom was sore enough as it was and I knew I would be able to stand another spanking so soon.

"Don't worry. I've already taken care of your punishment. There's no need to tell your parents and get you into more trouble. But I'm warning you. If you misbehave at my home or when you're with my daughter and I hear about it, I'm going to help your parents with your discipline. Now, you two go back outside and play and no more fireworks!" She concluded playfully, but meaning it.

When we were outside and alone, Kaitlynn, still embarrassed, made a fist and said, "Don't you dare tell anyone about this. Or I'll blacken your eye."

"Don't worry. I don't want anyone to know your mother gave me a bare bottom spanking... are you crazy!?"

"I guess it's more embarrassing for a boy."

"Of course it is! We're supposed to be stronger than women. Unfortunately, you're mother is just as strong as mine."

"Wait a minute! What do you mean suppose to be stronger!" She challenged.

"Men are stronger! You know that!"

"Oh yeah," she said and suddenly wrestled me to the ground. I won't tell you who won, but I will tell you this--her dress twisted up around her waist as we tussled and her panties became completely exposed. I even felt the smooth silky nylon of her panties as my hands, during our wrestling match, touched her bottom. I also got an erection. I knew she could feel it by the way she was pressed against me, but I don't think she mind because she just kept right on wrestling me. Like I said, she was a Tomboy-and would be one until her 16th birthday. That was the year she met Gary Mitchell.

Kaitlynn and I are still good friends to this day. And when I told her I was going to write this story, she said, "I hope you've been taking boxing lesson, Randall, because if you tell anybody about this you're going to need it when I get my hands on you traitor."

For my sake I hope she's kidding.