I grew up in a suburban community of older homes, mostly 3 story. It was a good time to be a kid, in the early '50s.
There were a lot of kids in our neighborhood. I can clearly remember one summer day, sitting on the steps, and seeing a moving van appear at stop at the Miner's old house next door to us. A new family was moving in, and they had a son, who I was told was exactly my age (9 at the time). The next day, the family arrived, and I got to meet Danny.
He was about as opposite a kid from me as there could be, looks wise. I was blonde and skinny, and he had dark hair, a darker complexion, (his family was Italian), and, while not fat, had some meat on his bones, as my mother would often say. We became fast friends, and did most everything together. We swam every Saturday at the YMCA pool. We would have to ride our bikes there, but our parents would let us do it, as we lived in a small town, and kids just were allowed to do more things then. A peculiar rule of our YMCA was that boys had to swim in the nude. Girls who used the pool could wear bathing suits, but boys could not. Of course, there were strict times when boys could swim and when girls could. We could never understand why we had to swim nude, but it was the only way we could swim. (I once heard someone from the Y say that the reason we couldn't wear suits was that the lint would clog up the pool filters, but if that was the case, why wouldn't the girls, whose suits had a lot more lint than a boy's suit, clog up the same filters?) Oh well, if it wasn't for that rule, I might never have a reason to write this story.
One Saturday while swimming, I noticed Danny's butt when he dove into the pool. It had peculiar reddish marks on both cheeks. I asked him about it, and he gave some lame answer. I didn't think much about it until about 2 weeks later when I saw the same thing. He finally admitted that he had gotten a spanking that morning, and those were the marks. Now, all kids in the 50's were spanked. Either at home, school, or even at scouts, so it wasn't a big deal. It did rouse my curiosity though. I couldn't remember seeing my own butt with such marks. Later that week, I received a typically well deserved spanking with mom's wooden spoon over my jeans. I did rush to the bathroom, stand up on the toilet seat and look into the medicine chest mirror. My butt was pink, with a couple of small marks, but nothing like Dannys.
A week or so later, we were playing outside when Mrs. Diamato yelled at Danny to come inside. Something in the tone of her voice, and the look on Danny's face told me to pay attention. Houses didn't have air conditioning in those days, so, if you listened closely, you could hear most things that went on inside a house through the open windows. I heard her yelling at Danny, and finally telling him to go up to his room. He was crying, and begging her "not to" I wondered not to what? Danny's bedroom window was opposite our bathroom, and we had no window on that side of the bath. We did, however, have a finished attic (where my American Flyer layout was), and the attic window did look into his room. Due to the layout of the land, I knew I could look right into his room, at a slight down angle. I told my mom I was going to go play with my train, and rushed to the attic window. Danny was sitting on the edge of his bed, with his hands covering his eyes, his head held down low, and apparently crying. Just then, his mom came in and started yelling at him for hitting his little sister, Beth Ann. He stood up, and told her how sorry he was. She said something that we have all heard, about his going to be a lot more sorry, and went to his closet and opened it up. There, on a hook, hung one of those "Fli-Back" paddles. They came with a rubber ball on a long rubber band, and you could get it to bounce back and forth, if you were good. Apparently Danny's mom had found another use for his. She turned, and told him to get ready. She pointed the paddle at him as she said it. He unbuttoned his jeams, and pulled them and his underpants right down, and then stepped out of them and turned and laid over the end of his bed, which put him butt-on to my vision. His mom came over to him, smacked him a good one with her hand, and told him to get up. He stood up, and she took his pillow and folded it in two and placed it on the edge of the end of the bed. She said something to him, and I could see him standing rubbing his butt cheeks. She seemed to be angry at whatever he said, and picked him up and sort of threw him over the pillow. His butt was now up higher than his head, and his legs did not touch the ground. His mom picked up the paddle, and just started spanking him. I could hear her voice at first, but it was drowned out by Danny's cries. I watched in fascination as his butt cheeks turned from pink to red, then redder. His legs started to kick up and down, and back and forth, exposing his bag, and occasionally his hole to his mom. I am sure that at that moment, he wasn't thinking about the show he was putting on! One of his shoes flew off, and hit his mom on the leg. That seemed to just make her more angry. I watched as she put her hand on his back, and laid several real heavy smacks in. Then, she just walked back to his closet, rehung the paddle, and left his room. I watched as he laid there for quite a while crying. He was running his hands over his cheeks, up and down and back and forth, in an apparent attempt to put out the fire. I noticed when he finally rolled over and got up that he had an erection. I don't know if he got it before, during, or after his spanking, but he had one. He got his underpants and pants from the floor, and put them and his shoe back on, and left his room. I went outside and waited for him to come out. When he did, you could tell that he had been crying. I asked him if he was OK, and he just shrugged is shoulders. I told him that it sounded like someone had "gotten it" in their house. Danny looked at me and said that he had gotten in trouble for hitting his sister, and his mom had just spanked him. I asked him if I could see his butt, to see if it was as bad as the week before, at the Y, but he was afraid his mom might see, and said he just couldn't take another spanking. I pressed him for details, but he woldn't talk about it. I never told Danny that I had watched him "getting it" that day, I kept that little fact to myself, and was able to see him spanked on many occasions. Once, he and Beth Ann were both spanked at once by his Dad with a belt. But, that's another story.