When I was a young boy just going to kindergarten, I was a total opposite of how I was at home. I was an angel. A cute puppy like boy that was very well behaved. I knew that if I misbehaved, I would get a good spanking on the seat of my pants. My parents didn't believe in pulling your pants down, but made up for the clothing by using rulers, sticks, and the belt too. Mostly my dad did this. I remember one time we were going out, and my brother began to act up, and my dad wasn't going to put up with it anymore. So my dad stopped the car pulled to the side of the road. Opened the left rear door and rolled my brother over, and spanked his light blue cotton overall covered bottom real good with his hand. My brother cried like there was no tomorrow. You can bet that after seeing that episode, I was not ready to get my dad mad any time soon, lest I wanted the seat of my pants warmed real well too.

I have to admit that I was intrigued with spanking at my very young age especially after seeing my brother get his spanking. I wanted to learn more of what it was like. But I was afraid at the same time, so then came along school.

My first day of school in kindergarten. I was a very curious and a mischievous boy of 5. I looked under a girls' dress one time, and I couldn't understand what I saw but I was caught by my teacher and sent to the corner for my misdeed. I continued on with other disruptive behavior. I just remembered disobeying my teacher when it was time to finger paint. I wanted to continue building my fort of blocks. She insisted though, and of course I had a tantrum, and began throwing blocks at the teacher and knocking down the fort. My teacher had had enough of my behavior and grabbed me by the arm and spun me around and gave my gray colored levis a good sound hand spanking. I never felt this sensation before and it was strange. Before I could relish in this curious activity she increased her strength on my spanking warming my seat of my jeans real well. I began to cry because it was hurting.

Then my teacher led me to the corner and I stood there while she delivered her last volley of hand spanks on my cute naughty jean covered bottom. I couldn't believe how much it hurt. That wouldn't be my last spanking for kindergarten either. I started being disruptive again in line outside of the classroom because my teacher wouldn't release yet to leave. My sister was pestering me to leave and go home with her because mom was waiting. My teacher stood fast and told me to stay in line and don't talk. I said " No!! Stupid!!" and I left the line and went home with my sister.

Little did I know that the teacher had phone called my mom, and when I got home, my mom was mad. No lecture no nothing. She had a ruler in her hand and she sent me to my room and a few minutes later came in and told me to bend over the bed. I obeyed, and she immediately began delivering a good spanking to my bottom. My jeans offered little protection to her swats. Over and over again, she pasted my bottom, and I just cried and cried as she spanked me long and hard. Finally she stopped and told me that I was not ever to disobey my teacher again or I would get another real good spanking.

Of course being the stubborn brat that I was, I just couldn't behave myself to save my own butt. Young and maybe a little slow in learning was not a valuable asset to my cute spank able bottom. Well I did one more thing wrong in class and I was grabbed by the arm by the teacher. She dragged me to the principals' office, me kicking and fighting the whole way there. Finally I was in the principals' office and he wanted to know why I was behaving like I was. I gave that all famous standard kid response and said ,"I don't know". So my principal said that I needed a spanking to stop my misdeeds in class. So without further ado, he picked me up and turned me over his knee, and my blue jean covered bottom was ready for his spanking skill. He picked up his thick ruler and began spanking me. Yeooowww. It really hurt. I was kicking and carrying on like a typical naughty brat that I was. Over and over again, that ruler played a painful melody over the seat of my jeans. I was bawling like nobodies business. Spank after spank rained down on my poor bottom. He then put down the ruler and proceeded to spank my jeans with his hand finishing me off. He next put me in the corner in his office, and called my parents.

My parents arrived a short time later, and I was told by them that a good sound spanking was what I was going to get when we got home. I was expelled from kindergarten that day, and my dad after we had gotten home bent me over my bed and spanked me with his belt over my jeans. I couldn't believe how much that belt hurt. It cut through my jeans like paper. The thin black fast belt made a whish sound before landing making that sharp unmistakable contact with cotton fabric of my jeans. I was a very naughty boy and I deserved it every stroke, but wow, the intensity was incredible.

My mom spanked me later too the same way with her ruler. I couldn't sit down for a long time without the pain throbbing in my bottom.

The school district decided that I was not "emotionally" ready for regular school and recommended that I be sent to a special school to get my schooling. A week into the my new class, I was caught talking in class while the teacher was talking, and she called me up to the front, and I stood next to her at her desk. I was thinking with the black corduroy pants I was wearing that maybe I would have better luck and not feel her spank me as hard. Boy was I wrong about that. She pulled me over her knee again and spanked my cord pants till I thought they were on fire. Over and over again, more spanks on my seat. I couldn't believe it.

For the next 3 years of my schooling, my seat of my pants had always been warmed, and when my folks found out, it was double trouble. Today now I am grown up and I think of those quaint days of my misbehavior, and how sometimes when I have my tantrums from time to time, how it would be great to get a good spanking over my thin docker pants, or my thin soccer shorts now. I am still a naughty pup, as they call me this at work, and kid me about spanking me if I keep it up. Well one could only hope, right?? M. P.