Eversince I was 7-years-old I spent the summers with Uncle Don. I always enjoyed being out at place because it was real private, and if you like to explore around like I do it was the perfect place to do so. I wasn't a bad kid, but I did have my moments disobedience. My mom's idea of a spanking was simply four or five swats across the seat of my pants. Of course when I was with Uncle Don he had my mom's permission to discipline me however he saw fit. Uncle Don's view on spanking was a bit different from my mom's. He believed in the full-fledged, pants/underwear-down spankings over his lap until the kid's butt was blistered. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time over his lap during the summers since he was quick to spank.
Uncle Don sometimes went a bit further than spanking. He often gave me long, bare-bottom butt-rubs, thorough rectal exams and enemas, and he would often carress my small penis to get me to go to sleep. I really didn't mind him touching me, and after awhile it just became a normal part of our daily routine with each other.
One afternoon when I was ten I wanted to go down by the creek to explore, but Uncle Don wanted me to move some bricks that were by the side of his house. I was a bit stubborn then, and I was used to getting my own way. That's why I got upset when he said I couldn't go to the creek until I had done what he asked.
"I ain't a God-_d_a_m_n_ slave!" I yelled, too upset to realize what I was saying until it was too late.
He didn't say anything. He just walked over to me, bent me over, peeled down my shorts and undies and gave me five of the most blistering smacks.
"Now, are you gonna do as I asked?" he asked me.
"Yes," I sobbed, holding my sore buns.
We went outside and I angrily went over to the pile of bricks that I was to be moving. I began to angrily throw the bricks carelessly into the wheelbarrow. The fourth brick went over the wheelbarrow and crashed into the birdbath. Uncle Don had seen me throwing the bricks, and even warned me about it, but I hadn't stopped. He was quite furious when he saw what had happened.
"It was an accident," I said, unable to hide my guilt.
"I told you that you had better calm down," he told me. "Now I'm going to whip you within an inch of your life. Get over to the tree!"
The tree he was talking about was a fallen tree about twenty yards from where we were standing. I nervously walked over to the tree.
"Get your shorts and underwear off now!" he angrily told me.
"Please don't do this," I begged.
"I said now!" he demanded.
As I began to undress he cut five birch switches off one of the birch trees in his yard. He got a large towel and placed it over the fallen tree.
"Bend over!" he demanded.
I nervously bent over the tree where he had placed the towel. He pulled my legs slightly apart, and then he reached under and positioned my little balls and _c_o_c_k_. He held the switches together, raised them up, and then brought them down with all his strength across my bare bottom. It took a few seconds for the pain to register, but once it did it really hurt. I let out a loud cry and he continued to whip me. He held me down with one hand, and whipped me with the other. It was more excruciating than anything I had ever felt, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I could feel blood trickling down my legs, and he still continued to beat me. I didn't think it would ever end.
After the whipping Uncle Don tended to my welted buttocks, almost fully saturating a towel with blood. It was three days before I could put a thin layer of clothing on, and another day before I could even think of sitting. Much of the time was spent with him rubbing ointment on my bottom or masturbating me to sleep. I received many more punishments from him, but this was the only time with the switch.