All right - all right - here it is - a little hurried but readable
Again - if the spanking of minor children offends you then please do not read this account
Based on real life - embellished through fiction (and memory loss)
I'll skip the part about "author's license" this time - but it does count for something you know
The principal Mr. Brenner left the inner office and left me - pants down and crying - in a corner. For about a half minute or so, the burning sting from just getting paddled was so overpowering that I still didn't care about anything else - but quickly my mind began to refocus.
I was bawling loudly - in the office at school - standing with my bare and no doubt very red behind exposed to any student that was at the outer office area and made even half an effort to get a look. My thoughts turned quickly toward getting control of my crying and covering myself - but I had been left pants down and didn't know if I dared pull them back up. With one hand smearing away at the tears on my face and the other trying to sooth my hot little nether cheeks, I turned to look toward the door.
I couldn't see any students, thank God, but my mother was right there and talking to Mr. Brenner. Oh yes! For the last few moments, while Mr. Brenner had paddled me, I had forgotten about Mommy taking me home. Do you remember how that happens? I mean, when that paddle is doing a "good" job, that paddle and trying to move your butt out of its way is the only thing you can think about!
I had been suspended for the rest of the day and all day tomorrow. I had the feeling I was about to leave the frying pan and jump into the fire!!
Mommy strode into Mr. Brenner's private office space and snatched me out of the corner by my elbow. She was real good at latching ahold of me just at an elbow and lifting just enough so I was always off balance. Even hobbled with my pants and briefs around my ankles, I made good time beside her as she escorted my to Mr. Brenner's chair - the chair I'd just been paddled at! (Note 1)
Sitting down, she pulled me closer to her and grabbed both arms just below my shoulders and started shaking me. My head bobbling, I looked toward the door. She had left it open, and now I REALLY could be seen by any kid that chanced to be in the office. Since I was a frequent visitor there, I knew that kids were popping in and out of the office all day long.
I prayed to God that no one would chance to come in now. I was sure that Mommy was about to spank me right away and not even wait to get me home first - or maybe she planned on spanking me both times - I didn't know. I just knew that my behind was still very hot from Mr. Brenner's work and I knew my pants were down and I was afraid that "Grandma's Hairbrush" was just a few moments away. Add to all of that the fact that this was happening in SCHOOL where any kid, even the guys I considered my friends and all the girls that I didn't, just anyone could come into the office right now and see my bare bottom and hear my crying - well - it was a real low point in my life.
"Well, young man!" exclaimed Mommy. "Are you starting to wise up yet?"
I shook my head yes for all I was worth and struggled manfully to stop the last of my crying so that I could speak to her.
Mommy took out a handkerchief and wet it with her tongue. She used it to rub at my tear-streaked face - as mad as she was with me, she was still concerned about my looks.
"You think you're such a big man! You wait - you just wait! You're coming down a peg or two this time, I swear it, just as soon as I get you home!" And while she talked she roughly pulled up my underpants and my pants, tucking in my shirt and fastening the pants for me just like I was a baby again. I was flooded with relief - relief of the moment as I realized I was not due an immediate spanking. In fact, I began to have a glimmer of hope that the spankings for today might be over. After all, Mr. Brenner had done a pretty complete job all by himself!
I didn't listen very carefully to Mommy and Mr. Brenner talking just before she pulled me briskly out the door and through the school entrance. I understood though that it was very unusual for a 4th grade student to be suspended - I understood that Mommy had not only given Mr. Brenner permission to paddle me pants down, but she had brought the paddle to school and let him keep it - I understood that I was now headed for home with one very upset Mommy who was carrying my little brother and getting more upset and angry with every one of the long steps home. I began to hope she'd be too tired after carrying my brother to amount to much when we did get home.
As with most things in my eight year old life, what mattered the most was the moment - and I was relieved that Mommy had not spanked me in school. I was glad to be out of the building so none of my buddies would see I'd been crying, or that my Mommy was towing me around like a little baby. And I had hope, hope eternal that maybe there was no more spankings to come.
Every step brought us closer to home, however, and closer to the eventual reckoning with Mommy and her own own personal idea of what a spanking was.
Every long journey begins with the first step, and all too soon we were home. Mommy had not said a word to me since leaving the school - instead trying to sooth my little brother who should have been taking his nap. I dashed ahead of her when we reached the porch steps and quickly opened the front door. We didn't bother to lock it back then - at least not when we were gone for jjust a little while or if we were going to be close. Times do change.
"I'm putting your brother to bed," Mommy said rather sternly to me. "You young man will be going to bed after you wash up and - well - after you and I reach some understanding about your school behavior."
Standing in the parlor I watched her carry my brother into the bathroom. She started a bath filling and undressed him down to his underpants, washing his face and hands.
"She didn't say anything about a spanking!" I thought.
"That tubs for you," she said when she noticed I was still standing there. "Snap to it. Mr. Brenner didn't spank you that hard. I was there, remember. You haven't found out what a spanking is yet."
I kicked off my shoes and started pealing out of my clothes right there in the parlor. It didn't matter around our house, I had only brothers and running around barely dressed was rather common. I was in the tub long before Mommy was done putting my brother down for his nap. I was a little surprised that she walked in on me - she hadn't come into the bathroom during one of my baths for several years now unless my little brother was in the tub with me. To further my surprise, she knelt down, took the washcloth, and started washing me as if I were little again.
I didn't say a word. She hadn't really said I'd get spanked yet, had she? What did coming down a notch mean? What did she say about finding a spanking?
While she washed, she lectured. I wish I could remember more of what she said. The truth is, I was too worried about whether I'd get spanked when she was done talking or not. I managed to nod yes and no in what seemed all the right places and to grunt occasionally in a way that helped her believe I was listening.
I should have known about the spanking - after all, this was "my" Mommy. "I can see this discussion isn't doing any good!" she finally said in disgust. Leaving me in the tub for the moment, she walked briskily out - to her bedroom I quickly learned - and returned with the dreaded "Grandma's Hairbrush" in her hand. I was stunned. Things had been going so well that I had really begun to believe my own silent story about not getting paddled by her.
"It seems this is the only kind of lesson you will listen to, young man!" (Note 2)
She laid one towel on the floor for me to step out, pulled the plug in the tub, and folded a second towel over the edge of the tub. I stepped out, chewing the knuckles on one hand while my other hand had already gone instinctively to cover my behind. Staring at that brush, I said, "But Mommy, ...."
"It's too late to talk now," she replied. "I've been trying that for over five minutes now. You obviously made up your mind about how you will behave a long time ago, and you showed me and Mr. Brenner what you decided today at school. Now its my turn to show you what I've decided!"
She grabbed both my arms again, as if the only way I'd listen was if she had a firm grip on me. "Tommy, I want you to understand something plain and clear. Mr. Brenner has my full permission to spank you just like he did today every time you get sent to the office. Do you understand!?"
My head bobbed quickly a yes response.
"I'm talking about using Daddy's paddle that I left at school for Mr. Brenner," she emphasized. "I'm talking about right on your bare bottom!"
Both my hands now cupped the still warmed twin globes of my bottom as I tried to figure out if there was any way out of what I feared was coming next. The brush on the floor at my feet only confirmed the fact that I was no doubt in a hopeless situation.
"And," continued Mommy, "every time you get paddled in school you and I are going to spend time together just like this."
And now it started to happen. I had never been spanked in the bathroom like this before. I wasn't sure what was going on exactly, but that I was about to feel "Grandma's Brush" yet once more was for certain.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, Mommy pushed my shoulders down and directed me to lean over the edge. My hips rested on the towel she had folded over the side of the tub, my hands pushed against the little rubber butterflies on the tub floor. My toes rested on the tile floor and my wet bottom, well, Mommy moved it around just a bit until she seemed to feel it was in just the right spot.
"Mommy," I whimpered, "I told you I'm sorry, didn't I. I'm really, really sorry!"
I glanced back over my shoulder. Mommy bent to pick up the brush from the floor.
"Please!" I said still trying to make points with her. This was a different way to get spanked, a lot less personal and less "friendly" - if that's the right word - than beinng held firmly over Mommy's lap. I just knew this was going to be one of the bad ones, and I started to cry. This time the tears were not a trick, I knew early tears didn't work with Mommy. But I had already been paddled, and not very long ago. I just didn't think I could take any more. "Mommy," I gasped out. "I'll be very, very good now. I will, honest!"
"I'm glad you feel that way dear," she smiled at me. "Now you just keep thinking about how good you're going to be all the time I'm spanking you. And you just better remember that every time you DON'T behave, then we are going to be discussing things exactly like this again."
The brush ever so lightly touched my bare behind. It felt so smooth and cool against each bottom cheek as Mommy moved it in small circles like she was deciding just where to get started. I let out an explosion of air in frustration. Why wouldn't she just listen to me! I said I was sorry, and I was very, very sorry for myself just then.
The last tiny bit of air exploded from my lungs. I sucked in more air and the sting from that first swat telegraphed itself to my brain.
Oh but this was starting out to be every bit a Mommy paddling all right! She was taking aim, first one bare cheek and then the other.
The air I had sucked in exploded out in an howl of unbelievable pain. Somehow the sting from the first swat just seemed to keep on getting worse, and she was adding to it with more and more, each swat seeming to grow in intensity instead of diminish as she sought new areas of my bottom.
SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK!
My feet weren't touching the floor anymore, they were kicking wildly in protest to what was happening to my behind. My howls and cries seemed to be intensified by the confines of the bathtub. For sound effect, the tub was a great place for Mommy to be trying to make her point, but for the practicalness of being able to keep her "target" in place in just wasn't working.
I cried - Mommy tried desperately to keep my hips over the edge of the tub, but I was on my knees now having had gravity and my body weight as an ally in getting my behind away from that hairbrush!
Mommy stopped. I looked at her with the wild eyes of a just spanked boy, tears streaming down my face again and a voice that was letting the whole world know just how much that brush could sting. I was satisfied that I'd been well spanked and glad she had stopped already.
"This just isn't working," she said over my bawling voice. "Come on!"
She stood, hairbrush in one hand and my elbow in the other. I didn't understand at first. I believed we were through spanking and that I was now headed for a corner so I went with her rather meekly. When we got to the parlor and Mommy sat on the sofa, I realized we weren't done yet. I tried increasing the depth and degree of my crying and tears. Didn't she realize just how much that brush HURT!!
"Mommy plans on giving you a very severe spanking, young man; you've been punished for this kind of thing before and apparently didn't learn enough from it. I don't want to have to do this again. I'm going to blister your bottom good and long, and then you're going right to bed for the rest of the day. No supper, no TV. Just you in the bed with a very sore, red bottom to help you remember not to be such a naughty little boy. Mommy is VERY unhappy with you."
And with that I was pulled back over her lap in the more traditional "Mommy" spanking position. I discovered small comfort in it though. My bottom was so much on fire already - I really didn't want any more no matter how it was delivered!
SPANK! SMACK! SLAP! WHAP!
My legs were kicking wildly and I tried again to scream out both my pain and an apology to get Mommy to end the spanking. "I'mmmmmmm soooooooorrrryyyyyyy MOMMMMMYYYYYOOOOOOOWWWWW!!"
CRACK! SMACK! SLAP!
If anything, now that Mommy had better "control" of my wildly squirming little bottom, she only seemed to increase the tempo of her swing. Maybe she wasn't smacking as hard any more, I couldn't tell. I don't think there was an inch on unspanked skin left on my behind. And with that hairbrush, the fire didn't seem to go away - it only grew as the brush continued to make its appointed rounds.
SPLAAAT! SMAACK! SLAAP!
My sobs didn't slow her one bit; Mommy would have thought she wasn't spanking hard enough if I weren't wildly crying. As I've said before, Mommy believed that first tears weren't sincere. She never stopped until she was absolutely certain she had one very well-paddled and repentant little boy laid out bare bottomed on her lap.
SMAACK! SMACK!! SMAACKK!!
Still her hand and that cursed brush descended, making already rosy flesh turn an almost shiny red.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHWOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!! MOMMMMAAAAA!!! ITTTHUUUURRRRRRTTSSSSSS!!"
Without breaking cadence, Mommy replied, "I know it does, sweetheart."
"And it's going to hurt more before I'm done."
"I want to make sure that you really understand that I am very serious about your behavior."
"And you know that in this house, naughty little boys get their bare bottoms paddled, don't they?"
"YEESSSSSSS, MOOOMMMMYYYY!" I barely was able to scream out.
"My naughty little boy gets his pants and underpants taken down so that his bottom is bare, and Mommy or Daddy puts him over their lap to get a good spanking."
SMACK!! SLAP!! WHAP!!! SPANK!!!
She continued with the brush. Boy! She was really angry with me this time!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
The tempo was still fast but I don't believe there was as much force in each swat anymore. As far as my bottom was concerned, it didn't matter. She could have just laid that d... brush on my bottom and it would have added to the burn.
"Why does Mommy have to spank you this time, Thomas?"
"AHHHHHHHH!!!!OOOHHHHH, MOMMMA!!! BE- BE-C-CAUSE I WAS NAUGHTY I'MSOOOOOOO SOOOOORRRRYYYY!"
Somewhere in my brain I knew that we were almost done now. Mommy always started talking and asking questions again when she was about to finish. And I could certainly assure her that she had done a very complete and thorough job this time!! She had my undivided attention - I would do or say anything to get thhis session to stop!
And it did stop, but not before I'd recieved one of the worst "hairbrushings" from her I'd ever gotten. And then I was sent to bed, just like she had promised - for the rest of the day. No supper, no TV. Just me naked in the bed with a very, VERY sore, red bottom to help me remember not to be such a naughty little boy ever again. (Note 3)
I slept for a while that afternoon. I was just completely worn out - in more ways than one. I woke up and started crying again for a little while - that's how sore my bottom was.
I heard Mommy making supper and I heard Daddy come home. I pretended to be asleep when he came in the bedroom. I didn't even dare face the door to try to peek to see if he had a paddle too. I just prayed he'd let me sleep. My parents paddlings seldom left marks like Grandpa's strap did - but I think I'd have had bruises if I'd taken another paddling so soon.
I did fall asleep again, and I woke up to a dark house. I got up to pee and while I was in the bathroom I checked myself in the mirror. That poor little boy's butt of mine was still very red! And it felt warm to the touch - like that bad sunburn I'd gotten one summer. I wondered if the skin would peal off like the sunburn had and chuckled a little as I imagined pealing off butt skin.
When I woke up in the morning my Daddy was gone to work already. Mommy let me get up to pee, but I had to eat cereal in bed and I couldn't even say good-by to my older brother as he went off to school. I was allowed no toys or books, so I did the sort of things a boy does alone in bed to help pass the time - if your a boy you will no doubt remember about that. Even so, it was a long morning.
Daddy came home for lunch. That was a shock. I was shocked again when Mommy came to the bedroom door to put my younger brother down for his nap and she told me that Daddy was ready to see me now in their bedroom.
"I'm naked," I reminded her.
"That's alright, dear," she answered with a tight smile. "For what your Daddy has in mind you won't be needing any pants."
My face screwed itself up into immediate tears. Another paddling! I just knew it - and it wasn't fair!
"Hurry up and don't keep him waiting," Mommy advised me. "He's pretty upset and he wants to tell you what "he's" going to do the next time Mr. Brenner paddles you!"
Note 1: just got back from church - hope it doesn't upset any reader to know that I consider myself a good Catholic - just after Eucharist I observed a father using exactly this same "elbow pulling" technique to remove a young boy of about 6 or seven years old from church - in my childhood days I'd have been paddled pants down and right away at the car in the curch parking lot - things did look that bad for this poor little guy too - but instead of the parking lot the father turned and took the tyke downstairs - I have become aware that there is a room off the social hall downstairs that serves the same purpose that a trip to the car used to do for me and my father - resisted the curiosity of following them downstairs though. (Back)
Note 2: before Mommy died I had a chance to talk to her about why I seemed to get the "hairbrush" more often than my two brothers - I don't remember my older brother "ever" getting the brush - and my younger brother sometimes but not as often as me - my Mother agreed and admited that my younger brother probably got "Grandma's Brush" sometimes only because she had gotten into the habit of using it on me - I also decided that even though some of my punishment spankings would be called abusive by today's standards - they were committed out of pure love for me and a sincere desire on my parents part to correct what they saw as severe misbehavior - they wanted the best in the world for me and the only thing that worked at all was a damn good paddling - guess I was just one of "those" kind even back then! (Back)
Note 3: it worked pretty good too - only 5 or 6 other paddlings by Mr. Brenner for the rest of 4th grade all the way through the end of 6th grade. Immediate change was too much to ask for, but believe me I did not want to repeat the events of this story too many times at that age. (Back)
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