A Bathroom Spanking

A Bathroom Spanking

This story has a trigger, the trigger being a post by Aunty Andrea on the Spank Shop blog.

As many of my readers will know, I live with my guardian and her two sons David and Grant. Mom’s name is Marta Van Rensburg. Mom became my legal guardian after my natural parents relocated to the coast and left me in her care. My father was ill and my mother devoted all her time to caring for him. Mom decided she wanted full parental rights and my parents felt it to be in my best interest for me to stay with Marta now mom.

All my school life I have had to fight to protect myself from those boys both older and bigger than me. These boys saw me as an easy target for their bullying, that is until they learned otherwise to their cost and shame. Throughout my schooling my class mates were on average 18 months to 2yrs older than me. I started school in a Crown colony in the year I turned 5. My class mates in the year they turned 7.

By the time I reached high school I was already a veteran scrapper, being hauled in front of my house masters on many an occasion for fighting. To my credit I seldom started the fight but certainly finished them. Mom’s best friend is Aunty Amber, one of my teachers and she during a discussion with mom informed her that I was not afraid to get into a fight and that I, in spite of my size seldom lost.

Mom decided that fighting was to stop forthwith, unfortunately she only told me. I presume because the other boys were not her concern. I however was her concern. Mom told me I would be punished  if I got caught fighting at school, Because mom never told me I could not fight outside the school grounds, I naively took this to mean that it was okay to fight as long as it was not on the school grounds. Boy was I ever mistaken!!!!!!!

The first time I fought after coming to live with mom was two days before my 16^th birthday, we fought, to this day I cannot remember why, however we were both a mess afterwards. I matched his black eye, my shirt was torn and he was bleeding from the deep gouges where my satchel buckles had snagged on his arm after I hit him with it.

Unfortunately it was Aunty Amber who some girls called to break up the fight and although the fight technically took place off school grounds the school, namely Aunty Amber got involved. Justice was swift and both of us got caned. Six of the best from a rather disappointed and annoyed teacher. We both signed the punishment book and I was informed that Aunty Amber would be contacting mom to tell her of the events and aftermath of the afternoons festivities.

Mom was most displeased and before bed time I found myself bawling my eyes out as mom did everything possible to set my butt alight using her very capable hairbrush. Now a hairbrushing is bad enough on it’s own but coming scant hours after six of the best from Aunty Amber it was pure torture. Mom proved her stamina far exceeded mine as she wore me out long before she finished. The promise of an even more severe spanking was enough to deter me from starting any fights for over 3 months.

The day of infamy started much like December the 7^th 1941, a beautiful clear day and as I walked the short distance to school from home I enjoyed the freshness of the early morning. However unlike that day long ago, there were no Japanese bombers attacking Pearl harbour.  Instead there was Brett Martin, the class idiot, he was 19 years old and had already been kept back a year. He had tried to force a friend to allow him to copy her homework and when she refused he started hitting her. At 6’ 2” Brett was a big guy but for all his size he was incredibly slow and what was worse he was a sucker for a right cross as well as having a glass jaw. When I tried to intervene he slapped me and then committed his big mistake. He allowed me to get up. The fight was very one sided and before anyone could yell “FIGHT FIGHT” it was over. And three other seniors were pulling me off him as I was attempting to smash his face through the concrete of the pavement.  

It was only later in the morning when I spoke to Mrs Roux, Aunty Amber, that my butt began to twitch and I knew that I was in for it. As far as the school was concerned I had stopped a guy beating up on a girl and the school decided not to punish me. Mom however was a totally different matter.

Aunty Amber tried to intervene on my behalf but I told her mom would still punish me for fighting. I went home with a heavy heart as the prospect of a spanking from my beloved mom loomed ever closer.

I decided to have an early bath before mom got home and was almost finished when mom came into the bathroom with fire in her eyes. Before I could even plead for mercy mom had reached out and grasping my ear hauled me to my feet.

“I SMACK thought SMACK I SMACK told you SMACK no more SMACK fighting” SMACK. This first salvo of six spanks were all directed to the tops of my legs, I twisted and wriggled, trying desperately to escape the stinging slaps to my legs.

“Get out of the bath Mario, Now little boy, don’t make me tell you again” Mom said, her voice stern and I discerned the anger, but more than simple anger, there was disappointment in her voice.

I climbed out of the bath my hand immediately rubbing the tops of my legs, trying to rub away the sting.

“Mario”, said mom; “you know better than to rub young man, take your hands away from your bottom before I fetch the strap.”

“Yes mom,” I said moving my hand to my side.

“What did I tell you about fighting Mario?”

I knew that I had to answer mom’s question, I also knew that if mom did not like the answer she spanked me until I gave her the correct one.

“You told me I was not allowed to fight mom, but mom…”

I got no further as mom dragged me closer to her , pushed her left leg out and bent me over her leg, wrapped her arm over my shoulder thus effectively pinning me in place and proceeded to spank.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK, all 8 spanks landing on exactly the same spot, right where thigh meets bottom. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK seconds later the other side got the same treatment.

I had never been spanked while I was wet, mom’s hand was also wet, oh boy it stung like a thousand ants all biting at the same time.

“Tell me Mario, what did I tell you about the next spanking you would get for fighting?”

I was so busy trying to get rid of the sting from those slaps to my sit spot and to cover my bottom that I failed to answer straight away.

“I spoke to you young man”, each syllable punctuated by a stinging slap to the top of my legs again and again.

“mommieeeeeee, I’mmmmmmm sorrrrrrrrry,”  I cried out in agony, the stinging in my rear driving all thought of dissention out of my mind. Mom kept on the slaps, only now she branched upwards, her hand covering every square millimetre of my bottom and upper thighs.

“Mario, I can keep this up longer than you can stand it, in fact lets up the ante a little.”

The slapping stopped and as I opened my eyes to see the reason why, I cried out in horror, screaming out “ No mommieeee please not the bath brushpleaseeeee”

CRACK   CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK   CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK

CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK  CRACK   CRACK CRACK

Again and again the horrible brush struck home, every spank causing fresh agony to my already sore bottom. It was as though every spank caused the drops of water clinging to my skin to boil, the tiny burns causing excruciating agony that drove all coherent thought from my mind.

Mom was like someone driven, she totally ignored my cries and my pleas for her to stop, intent on driving home the lesson she wished to teach me and that was never to fight again.

Long after I gave up screaming and simply hung over mom’s leg sobbing afresh as each spank of that horrible brush struck home mom finally stopped. Later I was to learn that mom had only given me 24 spanks with the brush. To this day it remains as the most severe spanking I ever received from my mom.

Andrew meets a Lady

Hi all, I started writing this story during the dark days of depression. I decided I did not like the story line as it was too depressing so I re wrote it at 2am this morning.

The night was still young when Andrew and his friends arrived outside the night club. Already fuelled by a considerable quantity of alcohol consumed before they had even left the college campus, the three young men were out to ‘paint the town red’. After all reaching your majority was surely an excuse for a celebration. Andrew was 21 years of age.

Raised in a succession of foster homes, Andrew never knew his parents; his father had absconded the moment his mother announced she was pregnant leaving the 16 year old girl to fend for herself. A succession of men all used and abused the young girl and at the age of three Andrew was removed into care and never saw his mother again.

The party got really loud and everyone had a good time, Somehow during the course of the night Andrew had got separated from his companions and after getting chucked out of the night club he staggered down a side street where the urge to throw up overwhelmed him and leaning against the fence he succumbed to the inevitable and emptied the contents of his stomach. Now the initial heaving withdrew and he was left with a sickly taste in his mouth. Spying a tap on the back wall of the house Andrew decided that anything was preferable to the vile taste still lingering on his taste buds so he tried to scale the wall in order to get to the tap; however in his drunken state he lost his balance whilst still perched on top of the wall. He fell with enough noise to wake the dead and a splash as he fell into a pond. A loud expletive issued from his lips as he emerged coughing and spluttering, the stagnant smell reacting with the vile sick smell and taste in his mouth. As he wiped his face he stopped as he saw that his antics and the fact he had made such a noise he had woken the occupant of the house up.

He looked at her, all dressed for bed and wearing a long T –shirt with a logo that said “Don’t try to understand me, just love me”. At the moment however the look on her face said anything but. She was pissed, really pissed. Grabbing the startled young man by the ear she marched him through her garden, up the stairs into her kitchen where she directed him to a chair. Releasing him she told him to sit “NOW”

She fetched a towel from the closet in the hall and on returning to the kitchen she handed Andrew the towel and told him “You smell like a brewery and you stink, there is a shower through that door, use it, leave your clothes by the door, I will bring you something to wear until your clothes dry. Is that understood? ”

“Please Miss, I am sorry for waking you, there is no need for you to...”

“Young man, I did not ask you for an apology, I asked you if you understood what I told you, did your mother not teach you anything.”

“I don’t have a mother Miss, and I do understand. Through that door, you said Miss?”

“Yes and my name is Vicky, what is your name?”

I am Andrew Miss Vicky and thank you”.

Fifteen minutes later Andrew emerged from the shower feeling much better. Vicky had, true to her word, gathered his clothes and put them in the washing machine. She looked up as Andrew entered the kitchen and smiled at him. “Feeling better now?” she asked as he sat down across the table from her

“Yes maam, I err mean Vicky”

Without asking she poured a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

“Andrew, I would like to apologise for my insensitivity earlier when I asked if your mother never taught you anything”

“That’s ok... Maam, I mean Vicky, I never knew my mother you see I was a ward of the state until...” He looked at his watch and then looking up again he said “until 3 hours ago”

“So” she said, it is your birthday and you decided to celebrate with your mates I take it. If that is the case, you have a poor choice in friends if they left you all alone on your birthday. What happened to them?”

“I really don’t know, one minute they were with me, the next, they had disappeared and I was getting chucked out into the street. We were watching a dancer. My friend tried to give her some cash but he ended up falling all over her.”

“He ended up falling all over her because you got sick and threw up all over his feet, he slipped and that was why he fell on top of the dancer.”

“You mean...that’s why they disappeared, the fucking rats...”

A hard slap stopped the young man in mid sentence

“I do not like the swearing young man. If you were my son and you spoke like that, you would be getting your mouth washed out with soap. In fact if you swear again I will wash your potty mouth out with soap.”

Andrew quickly apologised, promising to mind his language.

“It was you then, the dancer. I’ve kind of messed up, haven’t I?

“Nothing that cannot be put right, your coffee is getting cold; drink it before it is cold and I will make you a fresh cup.”

“Yes Maam”, said Andrew as he drank the coffee in a single gulp.

Maam, may I ask a personal question.”

After giving Andrew permission Vicky sat down after first putting a fresh cup of coffee in front of Andrew.

 “Well Maam, when you told me off you mentioned a son, yet here you are alone.”

“Yes Andrew I do have a son, but I have not seen him for 17 years, you see I got into trouble because of alcohol and my son was taken into care. He is 21, in fact it was his birthday yesterday. Hardly a day goes by when I don’t have him in my thoughts. To tell you the truth, I was simply going to call the police when you woke the world up, you for some reason remind me of him. I decided that you deserved a break and that’s why you and I are sat in my kitchen drinking coffee.”

“Thank you maam...”

Vicky interrupted Andrew saying “there is no need to be so formal, I told you my name is Vicky.”

“I know Maam, for some reason I find it difficult to be so forward but you remind me of my mother, what little I can remember of her. She must be around 40 now, she had long light brown hair, I know she was very young when I was born, that is all the social services would tell me”

“That is ok Andrew, if it will make you feel more at ease then by all means call me what you wish.”

“Thank you Maam, it is good of you to care and I appreciate your kindness, after all I have done and the way I have messed up tonight. Yet something tells me I am still in trouble.”

“Yes you are in trouble, but I want to know why you think you are. Can you tell me why you are in trouble?”

“Yes maam, I am in trouble because I climbed over your property wall, fell into your pond and woke the neighbourhood.”

“Not bad, you are a bright boy, now what do you think should happen to you.”

“I am not sure, I suppose that depends on you, I mean I could repaint the wall, do some chores for you”

“Not quite what I had in mind, however you did say that it depended on me, is that not so.”

“Yes Maam, it does depend on you, but I don’t think I am going to like what you have in mind.”

“Andrew I can tell you that I would do exactly what I plan to do with you with my own son if he was foolish enough to do what you did tonight.”

“But I was celebrating my birthday; surely there is nothing wrong with that?”

“Tell me Andrew, how much did you drink tonight?”

Andrew hung his head and while looking at the floor softly said; “a lot”

Vicky reached out and gently lifted his chin, forcing the young man to look at her. “How much is a lot Andrew?”

“Feeling very sheepish Andrew began to count aloud, “Well there was the four pints at the college dorm, three more at the Slug  and Fiddle plus about four or five Vodka and red bulls”

“Tell me you are kidding” said Vicky in shock as the young man recited the litany of alcohol abuse he indulged in. “Do you want to kill yourself or worse kill someone else”

Andrew hung his head in remorse as Vicky scolded him for being so foolish and drinking like he did.

“I am sorry Maam”

“You ought to be young man, you see I lost my son because of my drinking and I have never forgiven myself. The last thing I would want is for you to do the same. For this I think you deserve a spanking.”

Before Andrew realized it he had jumped up “You have got to be fucking joking, a spanking. I am too old for this shit...”

Vicky stood and grabbed the startled young man by the ear again and half dragged him still muttering into the bathroom where she after delivering a series of hard spanks to Andrew’s backside, released his ear and after lathering a bar of soap said; “open”.

Andrew kept his mouth shut, eliciting a series of hard wet smacks as Vicky punished his thigh. Andrew opened his mouth to protest only to find his mouth filled with the soap as Vicky shoved it in.

Coughing and spluttering Andrew stood meekly as Vicky proceeded to thoroughly soap his mouth, gagging all the while on the vile taste. Allowing Andrew a glass of water to rinse his mouth she directed the chastened youngster to the kitchen with a hard spank on the seat of his shorts where he sat down with alacrity, anything to avoid those stinging spanks.

Looking down at him from her position Vicky said “Too old for a spanking indeed. You are definitely not too old for a good bare bottomed spanking my boy and that is exactly what you are going to get”.

All the while she positioned her chair so there was plenty of room, sat down and calling the trembling youngster to her she directed him to stand next to her right knee and proceeded to remove the youngsters trousers and underwear before gently guiding him over her knee.

Before Andrew quite realized it he was staring at the kitchen floor, the tiled surface about 4 inches from his face and his backside strategically placed.

Vicky gently rubbed the palm of her hand over the trembling  boy’s upturned bottom watching as he involuntarily flinched. The moment she saw his bottom relax she raised her hand up high and brought it down hard on the lily white bottom lying over her lap. A few seconds later there was an equal hand print on the opposite cheek.

The shock of the first two spanks to land took Andrews breath away, he gasped unable to believe that it could hurt so much. No sooner had the pain disappeared than it began all over again as Vicky began to spank in earnest.

Vicky, for her part was amazed at how quickly the pristine white cheeks reddened. Alternating from side to side each succeeding spank overlapping the previous one slightly. Satisfied at the colour of Andrews bottom, Vicky switched attack to the tender joint, the so called sit spot, where bottom and thigh join.

Andrew meanwhile was struggling, the constant barrage of spanks quickly brought him to the point of tears. His gasps and grunts of pain became cries, interspersed with the tears came entreaties for mercy, promises of obedience, pleas for the torment to stop, all to no avail. Finally he broke down and began to sob, great wracking sobs from deep within his soul, the agony and pain of his childhood combined with the very real pain he was experiencing at the hand of Vicky caused the fountain of tears to burst forth.

Vicky kept a watchful eye open for signs that the spanking was effective , when she saw the floodgates open and heard Andrews cry of anguish knew the end of the spanking was near. She increased the force and speed concentrating the last explosive volley on Andrews sit spot.

Meanwhile Andrew was totally unaware that Vicky no longer spanked, instead she gently whispered to him that it was finished. It took a further 5 minutes before the sobbing boy raised his head, his vision blurred and snot and mucus all over his face.

As he stood up his hand flew to his bottom and gently cradled the steaming flesh. The touch bringing a cry of pain and anguish again Drumming his feet he danced totally unaware of the fact that Vicky could and saw everything.

Vicky meanwhile had fetched a facecloth and gently proceeded to wash the still crying youngsters face. Satisfied he looked reasonably presentable she opened her arms and enveloped Andrew in a hug, gently drawing him onto her lap soothing him all the while.

Andrew relaxed as he felt Vicky draw him onto her lap, he felt safe, instinctively knowing this lady would never harm him. Never in his life had he experienced such a sense of safety and security. Finally the drink and spanking began to take its toll on the exhausted young man .

Vicky offered Andrew a bed for the night and as she made up the bed in the spare room she noticed a scar on Andrew leg. Alone in her bedroom, Vicky opened a photo album, a picture of a smiling blonde headed young boy with an identical scar on his leg.

“ You are home my precious boy, at last I have found you”…