When I was younger my mom and dad went away on a business trip.

Since they could not take me with them, mom asked a friend if I could stay with her until they returned.

The friend said yes, and I was taken to her home.

 

The friend was a little younger than my mom and very attractive.

She was not yet married and lived alone.

It would be fun to have a youngster around the house, she said to mom.

However, boys of my age group, mom assured her, often got themselves into trouble.

Before mom left, she told the woman exactly what she should do, if I did not behave.

“If he doesn’t do what he’s supposed to do or gets out of line,”

mom instructed,

“make sure you put him across your lap and give him a warm bottom.”

 

The woman giggled at this and smiled at me.

I assumed nothing of the kind would actually happen.

However, I quickly discovered how very wrong my thinking was!

 

Things went fine for the first few days, without even a threat or scolding.

However, I began to fall into my usual routine of doing as I pleased and getting away with as much as I could.

I was soon to find out that my Mother’s friend was not a pushover.

I was also soon to find out that she could – and would – carry out the instructions she had been given to the letter.

 

One very wet morning, I was sternly warned to not get my clothes dirty while playing.

The rear yard was sopping wet and the bare patches on the lawn were muddy.

Needless to say, I did not stay clean for very long.

By the time I was finished playing and went back into the house, I was caked with thick brown mud.

I also had left a tell-tale trail of thick mud, from the kitchen to the living room.

“You are a naughty boy!”

Came an angry female voice from behind me.

“Look at what you’ve done to yourself,”

“never mind my clean floor and carpet!”

Grabbing me by my right hand, she led me into the bathroom.

“I’ll have to wash everything you have on while you take a shower”

“Leave your clothing outside the door, take your shower. put on your pajamas, then come to the living room”

I did as told,  placing my muddy clothes on the floor outside the door.

I then showered, after which I put on my pajamas, and made my way to the living room

 

Now we can take care of the second order of business,” she said as we arrived at the living room sofa.

I asked her what she was going to do.

She replied by seating herself and pulling me face down across her knees.

This was a position I was more than familiar with at home.

However, I was used to mom doing it, not a complete stranger.

I became quite contrite.

Hoping to beg my way out of my just desserts.

But Mom’s friend was not buying into that.

She encircled my waist with her left arm.

Raised her right.

And her open palm came down across the summit of my left buttock.

Yelping from the sting, I pleaded with her not to spank me.

However, my pleas were to no avail.

Her hand began coming down briskly and readily and alternated from cheek to cheek.

I began to cry and wiggle as the sting spread and my cheeks burned.

Each spank was a white-hot needle.

There was no escape.

 

I can’t say for sure just how many spanks I received that day.

But it seemed to go on forever.

Finally, I just lay there taking them, gritting my teeth.

I promised I would never disobey her again.

Then it was over.

The last spank fell.

I heard my own breath coming in gasps.

She left me there over her lap for a minute, then helped me back to my feet.

Then I was hustled into a corner.

There I stood for a while, to ponder on what I had done.

 

She did not tell mom she had spanked me.

She feared mom might spank me again if she reported the incident.

She explained that I had been spanked for my misdeed, and the case was closed.