It was the Spring of 1962. I had just mustered out of the Navy, and was about to start college courses at a small college in North Carolina. I knew that I would eventually have to work to support myself, but determined that if I was frugal, I could spend my first year with no distractions. I learned from a friend that the cheapest way I could live would be to buy a trailer in a trailer park, and later sell it. There was such a transient group of folks going in and out of trailers then, that while you didn't make money on the deal, you usually didn't lose any either. So, I got into my trusty 1958 Ford Custom 300, and cruised around within a 10 mile radius of the campus. I found a nice small trailer in a trailer court (Ocean View Trailer Court) (which was miles from any ocean!) and purchased it that same day. It came furnished, and was all I needed.

I was busy unpacking clothes, and generally cleaning the place up, and had all of the windows open (this was prior to air conditioning, especally in trailers), when I heard a female voice yelling, and a repeated "crack" sound that my trained ears told me was the sound of somebody getting their bottom beat! Now, trailer courts have a lot of things, but one of the most noisy things is the group of kids who live there. Lord, you almost could walk on them, they were so thick. Of curiosity, I listened, and determined that the sounds were coming from the trailer to my left. A few minutes later, the noise stopped, and a boy about 9 or 10 ran out of the trailer, slamming the door as he left. The next time I looked over, I saw a lady sitting of the stairs leading into her trailer, smoking a cigarette, and apparently crying into her hands as she sat there. Being the galant yet stupid type, I gathered two cold sodas from the fridge, and walked over to her. She was indeed crying. I guessed that she was the recepient of the spanking I had just heard, and if that was the case, I didn't want to embarass her, or worse, hack off whoever had spanked her. I started to turn and walk back, when she looked up and saw me. Although she was crying, she had a really pretty face. She was about 10 years older than I was (if I am any judge of such things), and just sort of sat there slumped over, like she was extreemly tired.

It was obvious that I had to offer her a soda, since I was standing there with two in my hands. I introduced myself, telling her that I had just moved in next door, and saw her sitting out, and wondered if she would like a cold soda. She smiled, and reached out for the bottle. She asked me some small talk type questions, you know, like where did you come from? and where do you work? and do you have a family? etc. I briefly filled her in. She then told me that she was a divorcee, her name was Shelly Bonner, and she lived there with her 10 year old son Billy. She said she was a waitress during the evening, and worked part time at a bakery during the day. I asked her if it was just the two of them living there, and she said yes, and looked at me in a puzzled way. Finally, I just told her that I had heard some yelling, and what almost sounded like a spanking, and..... Shelly started to laugh, she finished my sentence for me. ...and you saw me sitting out here crying, and figured out I was the one who had just been spanked? She laughed harder, her sides shaking as she did so. I was embarassed, but could see some humor in what she said.

She asked if I really wanted to hear her tale of woe, and I told her I really did. It seems that her husband left her for another woman 10 months ago, and then divorced her. She was left with her son, who had always been a great kid. Since his dad left, however, he had become a hellian. She was constantly getting notes from his school, and complaints from the neighbors, as he would just destroy things, or pick fights without provocation. She said she had tried to reason with him, and finally had even broken down and started to spank him (which was what I had heard). Unfortunately, her spankings had no effect on him at all. As a matter of fact, he had laughed at her a few minutes ago, as she was spanking him. That was why she was crying.

I told her how bad I felt, and asked if I could help in any way. I could see that she was desperate. She looked at me, and asked what I thought I could do. I told her that I was the oldest of 7 kids, and as my father was in the Navy, and gone for long periods of time, I had evolved into a sort of discipline figure for the other kids, especially for my 3 younger brothers. I asked her how she went about spanking her son Billy. She told me that she had tried just smacking his butt, but that didn't do anything. Then, she had pulled his pants down, and smacked his underpants, and that didn't do any good. Her latest thing was spanking his bare butt, which made a lot of noise, and hurt her hand, but never seemed to affect him. She asked what I would do, if he were my brother. I told her that I would just spank him harder and longer. If she didn't think she was strong enough, I recommended she use something else beside her hand, like a paddle, or belt. I could tell she was at her wits end. She said she just didn't have the strength left to control him, and started to cry again.

Then, out of the blue, she looked up at me, and asked me if I would spank him for her! I told her I wouldn't feel right doing that, after all, I didn't even know the boy. I couldn't just walk up to him and blister his butt for no reason. She sighed, and said she understood, and then started to sob again. I asked her who watched Billy when she worked, and she said old Mrs. Wilson who lived near the entrance to the park. But she had called her and told her that she couldn't watch him any more, as he was so disrespectful, and had destroyed so many things in her home when he was there. That was the reason she had spanked him earlier.

A light went on in my head, and I made a suggestion to her. I told her that I had 3 weeks before I had any classes. I asked her what she thought about me watching Billy, and if she was serious about my spanking him like a little brother, I would do so. Her face lit up! It was like I had offered her a million dollars!. But, just as quickly, sadness came over her, as she told me that she really couldn't afford to pay me enough to both watch him, and discipline him. I told her that I was willing to do it for nothing for the 3 weeks before school started for me. She started to cry again, but this time it was tears of joy!

Shelly yelled for Billy to come home, but he did not respond. So, she and I walked around the park. We found him a block over (well within hearing distance) jabbing at a neighbor's tied up dog. Shelly yelled at him to stop, and he slowly turned, then turned back and threw the stick at the dog. Shelly grabbed him, turned him around, and smacked the seat of his shorts 6 times. I watched Billy's eyes, and he never even blinked! Oh, this was one tough 10 year old! Selly pulled him home, with me following. She told Billy that I was the new neighbor, and was going to watch him for a while, until she could find a new sitter. She also told him that she had authorized me to spank his little butt if he gave me any trouble. I saw a spark of reaction in his eyes, but then he just looked away again.

Two hours later, dressed in a waitress uniform, Shelly came to the door, and asked if I really and truly wanted to do this. I told her I really did. She asked if I wanted to watch him at my place or hers. I told her I would keep him at my house tonite, and see how that worked out. She smiled, and went over to her trailer and brought Billy over to my home. In a few seconds, she had turned, and cimbed into a rusty old Chrysler, and left for work. Billy walked around my trailer, and picked up a few pillows and tossed them down. He turned on the TV without asking, and flopped down on the couch. I walked over, turned the TV off, and told him that we needed to have a chat. I told him that I knew it was rough for him and his mom, and that I wanted to help, but that I would not accept rudeness, nor destruction, nor his nasty comments. I told him if he tested me, he would soon find out that I could cut him down to size in a heartbeat!

Billy studied me for about a minute, and then said something that he would learn to regret. In a rather loud voice, he looked at me, and said "bite me, you ain't my dad." I walked the two steps to him, pulled him up, and sat down on the couch. I told him that I had hoped we could become friends, and I had hoped that "this" would not be necessary, but that he had brought it on himself. With that, I reached for the elastic on his shorts, and pulled them down to his ankles with one pull. He was wearing a pair of worn looking fruit of the loom briefs. I turned him around, and stared at his butt, which was being held in by the almost too small undies. There was a hole on the right cheek, and I cold see his pale skin peeking through. I grabbed the elastic on his underwear, and peeled them down also, exposing a beautiful little boy butt. It was deeply creased, and had two really cute dimples at the top. I lifted his leg, and pulled his clothes over his shoe. Then, I did the same thing for the other foot. When I turned him back around, I could see his little penis, which was shriveled up until it looked like a pink mushroom, with a slit in it, riding over a set of little balls whose bag was riding low due to the extreem heat. I looked at Billy's face, and could see a smile. He seemed to be mocking me, as if to say, "You can't hurt me."

I didn't say a word to him. I just pulled him down over my lap. I ran a hand up and down his butt cheeks, which were as flacid as if he were laying down for a nap, not getting ready for a spanking. My brothers and sisters always clamped their bottoms tight, in a vain attempt to lessen the pain of what was to come. Billy just lay there. I gently pinched the skin of his right cheek together, to see if he had any feeling at all back there. His cheek pulled away, and tightened, so I knew he could feel something! I couldn't help staring at his butt. It was soft and warm, and actually a kind of healthy looking pink color. I was just amazed at how soft it was. If you looked closely, you could see little bitty white hairs on his cheeks. I rested my hand on the center of his butt. My palm could touch one cheek while my fingers could touch the other. This was good.

I lifted my hand over my shoulder, and brought it down with all my might, purposely pushing through his bottom, and keeping pressure where I had just hit. I heard a surprised intake of breath, but no other reaction from him. I raised my hand, and brought down number 2 stroke, in exactly the same spot, with the same follow through. When I pulled my hand away, you could see a red hand mark showing. He made no noise, nor motion. So, I gave him 4 more incredibly hard smacks in the same spot. Finally, his butt started to give him away! He clenched his cheeks together, and moved his butt slightly to the side.

I took a break to check out my target. Angry handprints were showing exactly in the middle of his butt. I ran my finger over them, but there was no swelling, nor discoloration. I thought to myself that this was indeed a tough bottom. I recalled the last spanking I had given, to my 12 year old sister Carey, when I was home on leave. Strokes like I just gave Billy would have had her screaming and begging for mercy, but not little Billy! I started at the top of his right cheek, and pounded down a smack, followed by another in the same place. Then, I moved down a hand width, and gave two more, then lower, until I reached just one hand above the little crease where his butt cheeks met his thighs. I moved to the top of his left cheek, and repeated the journey. Then, I raised back with all of my strength, and smacked on that "sweet spot" on his right side, followed by his left side, then back and forth, as hard as I could hit, one after another, over an over. At first, Billy continued to have no reaction, other than slight movements of his butt. Then, he started to make a "mewing" noise, followe by a gasp, then a sob, followed by crying, which rose in tempo, as I continued on the same spot.

His butt was red all over, with visible handprints, except at his sweet spot, where it was dark red, and the handprints overlaped because they were so many. I started back up and down his cheeks, never letting up, never slowing down. He was howling now, and I could see the tips of his ears had turned red. I now heard him saying "stop" and "please stop", followed by crying which now took on a fevered pitch. I gave him ten more smacks on his sweet spot, and ten stopped and picked him up off of my lap. He was sobbing. I asked him how he was enjoying his warm up spanking. It seemed to take a second to sink in, and then he just started sobbing. Tears and snot ran down his face onto my rug.

I turned him sideways, and moving my legs apart, bent him over my left leg. I was then able to hold hig legs down with my right leg. His face was now near the floor, and his arms were flailing around. The extreem bent over position seperated his cheeks, and for the first time, I saw his little butt hole, as it peeked its way out of his deeply cleft bottom. This separation of his cheeks showed an area of untouched white skin along his crack. It was here that I would spend the next few minutes spanking. I pulled his cheeks apart with my left hand, and spanked as hard as I could along his crack. I finally lifted up my left leg, thus bringing the area higher, and smacked him right over his little hole. I repeated this over, and over, even moving down toward his little bag, covering his perineum area with explosive spanks. His screaming had subsided to choking sobs as he begged to be let up.

I pulled him upright and asked him if he were going to be a good boy, obey his mother etc. He sobbed that he would. I told him I wasn't sure that I believed him, but to make certain that he understood what would happen if he didn't, I moved him and sat him down on my lap. Then, I pushed him back on the couch so he was facing up, as scared look on his face, as I lifted his legs up in to a "diaper" position, and smacked his butt. Then, I moved his legs apart and gave him 5 more hits on his little hole. Two things happened then. First, he farted, then I noticed he had an erection. First things first, I told him I didn't know if he had farted on purpose, or not, but if it ever happened again, I would strap his little butt hole, and give him an enema. I asked him if he knew what that was. He was crying, but stopped enough to say that he didn't. So I explained that it was a way to clean out dirty nasty little boys. That it worked by putting water in this here (I gently pushed my finger into his little hole). Oh yeah, that got a reaction from him. He clamped down, and squealed as he promised it was an accident. I acted like I did not notice his hairless little erection. I do know that pain, and pressure can cause them to naturally occur during a spanking. I plopped my finger out, and pulled him up onto my lap. I stood him up, and, holding one hand on his butt, I looked into his eyes and asked if we were going to have any more problems. He said "no" in a soft sobbing voice, and I honestly believed him. I told him to get dressed, and went to get a soda for us both, as we both wre worn out!