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 16th 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 7th 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.
