Matthew was the naughtiest 4 year old I had ever met. He was incredibly disobedient and seemed to have selective hearing, especially when it came to an adult telling him to move his bike off the road to make way for a passing neighbourhood car.
I was sitting at home around lunch time when my phone rang. I was more than surprised when Matthew's mother asked me if I could babysit for the evening. Apparently, their usual sitter was out of town and I was the only person available.
I picked Matthew up and began the half hour drive back to my place. He was to stay the night and I would drive him home in the morning. His mother had told me to pull his pants down if he misbehaved and I knew that it wouldn't be long before Matthew gave me the opportunity to do just that.
Matthew was riding his bike around the cul-de-sac I live on and I was sitting on the front portch supervising. A car that belonged to the neighbours at the end of the street rounded the corner and drove slowly towards their driveway, only to be cut off my Matthew, who seemed oblivious to its presence.
"Matthew, get off the road." I called out. Matthew continued to ride around in circles, completely ignoring me or the car. The car's driver gave a short toot with his horn, but Matthew didn't budge. I stood up and walked to the edge of the road.
"Matthew, get off the road now!" Still no response. I'd had enough and no doubt the driver, returning from a long day at work was in no mood to be held up at the last minute by a cheeky little boy.
I walked over to Matthew and grabbed a hold of his arm. "What did I say?"
Waving an apology to the driver, I led Matthew down my driveway with one arm, his bike in the other. Leaving his bike in the back yard, I led Matthew inside and took him into my bedroom.
"How many times do you have to be told, Matt?"
"Shut up!" He yelled, defiantly.
"Excuse me?" I asked rhetorically in my sternest voice. Matthew was silent after that. I think he realised he was in enough trouble as it was.
I grabbed the waist-band of Matthew's tracksuit pants and yanked them down to his ankles. Then I gave the same treatment to his Spiderman undies. I picked up the struggling boy and placed him over my lap. His hands were covering a tightly clenched bottom, but I had ways around that. Moving his arms forward, I raised my right knee just enough that Matthew could no longer clench. I picked up the hairbrush from my nightstand and placed it next to me.
For a few seconds, I just admired the sweet curves of his round, tender little bottom. As long as I had known him I had always maintained that what he needed was a decent spanking on his bare bottom, I just didn't think it was me that would get to do it.
"Now you're going to learn what happens to naughty little boys who don't do as they are told and then talk back to grown-ups." I told him as I let my right hand glide over the soft curves of his up-turned backside. I picked up the hairbrush and raised it to shoulder level.
The hairbrush made a swooshing sound as I brought it down for the first of many stining swats to his bottom. Matthew jolted and began to cry as the brush connected with his left sit-spot. I raised it again and began spanking him rhythmically, covering as much of his bottom as I could. Matthew tried to squirm away, but he was powerless against my left arm, which held him firmly in place.
Matthew's bottom turned pink fairly quickly as spank after spank after spank with the flat side of my wooden hairbrush landed on his tender bottom.
I decided that I wanted to make the last few smacks count. I placed the hairbrush beside me and raised my hand high. I brought it down full force on his sit-spot and then landed another 10 of my best and hardest, making certain that my hand met every inch of his pink bottom, turning it to crimson. Four more, the hardest I could muster, across his sit spot and I was done.
Matthew was crying loudly as I rubbed his hot bottom soothingly. It was very red and felt very hot to touch. I rubbed and stroked, grabbed and groped the most tender little bottom I had ever had the priveledge to have across my lap.
With a few gentle pats and a last little squeeze, I let him up. Matthew was sobbing as he pulled his pants back up. At that point, I didn't know what was redder. His face or his bum.
"If you ever disobey me again or talk back to me like that, you'll get it longer and harder. Understand?"
Matthew nodded, his bottom lip stuck out, the full puppy-dog routine in effect. I got up and left the room, leaving the door open. Matthew would come out when he was ready.