IN 1997-98, I POSTED A SERIES OF TRUE-LIFE STORIES THAT GOT A LOT OF VERY POSITIVE E-MAIL RESPONSE FROM READERS OF THIS WEBSITE. I NEVER FINISHED THE SERIES, UNTIL RECENTLY. IN REVIEWING THESE ORIGINAL SUBMISSIONS, I HAVE EDITED THESE STORIES AND NOW REPOST THEM WITH TYPO CORRECTIONS, ETC...ALONG WITH NEW STORIES LIKE THIS ONE. THIS SERIES BEGINS WHEN I WAS 11, AND ENDS A YEAR AGO, WITH THE STORIES POSTED CHRONOLOGICALLY. ENJOY!
When I started dating my second wife Sandy, it was renewal of a high school friendship. Ours was one of those things you have in high school. We knew each other, spoke to each other in the halls, but never dated. Sandy was two years behind me, and I didn't like dating girls that much younger than me. I should have made the effort, because she had the best looking butt in high school....and that is saying something.
When we did finally meet again, she had been married and had two boys, Paul & Mike.
Paul was 8 and a cute little skinny kid. He had a round face with blonde hair, blue eyes and a natural con artist _s_h_i_t_-eating grin, and still does 25 years later.
Mike was 6, and not as outgoing as his brother, but a very similar skinny kid build, with brown hair and brown eyes and a slender face.
On our third date, I picked up her up at her Dad's house, where she and the boys lived. As soon as I walked into the house, both boys tried to jump into my arms. It has been my experience with kids, that most of them have pretty good radar. I am a kid magnet, boy or girl. Between my voice and physical presence, kids feel drawn to me. Never let a kid down either, even though some of them have gotten what they deserved over my knee.
I had started our dating in early winter, and that winter was a really cold one. The pool in back had frozen over solid. If the vinyl sides had been protected, it could have made neat small ice rink.
In mid-February our weather pattern had changed and the pool ice rink was no longer the solid ice cube it had been a month earlier. In the meantime, Sandy and the boys were beginning to spend more and more time at the house on the weekends, much to the dismay of my roommate Mark.
As the boys spent more time with me, it became apparent that Sandy was a terrible disciplinarian. Like a lot of women, she is a screamer and nothing more. Kids learn quick how to tune out screamers...just like a bad boom box.
The boys also learned that I was not a screamer. Just the opposite. I did not raise my voice, and have very rarely ever had to with any child. An icy glare and a snap of my fingers normally stops the unwanted activity on the spot. (To this day the Paul & Mike react to this sound, much to their dismay as well as my other two kids, all young adults, especially my daughter. She absolutely hates it when my granddaughter, her daughter, reacts the same way to my snap of the fingers and glare.)
This fateful afternoon I took a business call in my office area next to the recreation room. I heard Sandy pull open the sliding glass door leading to the pool area and scream at the boys to stay off the ice. This was done several more times before I got off the phone to stop her screaming and the boy's misbehavior.
When I got to the sliding glass door and looked out I saw the two boys having a blast on the ice, while Sandy just stood there, glaring at the boys and complaining about how they ignored her. I pulled open the door, causing Paul to look back and lose his balance, landing hard on the ice.
He must have hit it just right, because I heard this horrible crack....and he screamed. About that time Mike fell down next to him screaming his head off. I knew the boys weren't in any mortal danger because it was a four-foot pool, drained to 3 feet for the winter. But they were scared, wet and cold.
The pool was about 30 feet from the sliding door and by the time I got there, the boys were on their hands and knees, jeans totally soaked and crying their eyes out. The icy water was coming up through the cracks in the ice fast. I pushed the pool surface skimmer out for them to grab onto and had them safely on deck with no more trauma...for the moment.
I hustled them into the recreation room. Sandy and I stripped them naked quick, wrapping them in blankets and having them stand in front of the Franklin Stove, and all it's warmth.
"Don't move boys, we are going to have a 'come to Jesus' meeting in a few minutes. The heat you feel now from that stove is going to be mild to the heat coming off your butts. Do I make myself clear?"
They shook their heads, tears starting up fresh, blankets tightly clutched to their chests as they looked up at me with faces painted with fear.
I tossed their wet clothes into the dryer and pulled Sandy aside.
"Your choice. I will not tolerate them ignoring your orders. Either I spank them here and now to set the course for our future relationship growth, or you pull their clothes out the dryer in a few minutes and hit the door. Your choice!"
She looked up at me and started to stammer and stutter at the black and white nature of my comments. I put my index finger to her lips and shook my heard "no". She got the message and looked down at the floor for a few moments and spoke with tears in her eyes, "I'm a rotten mother aren't I?"
"Nope, just a typical female screamer. Make up your mind, because I won't put up with this kind of crap from you or the boys".
She then spent a couple of minutes apologizing and agreeing that I needed to step in and spank the boys for this situation because it was my house and my rules. We then went back to the boys.
By this time they had stopped crying and were just plain scared about the unknown of their butts, as they stood their wrapped in blankets.
We all sat down on the floor in front of the stove, the boys wrapped in their blankets, backs to the stove; Sandy and I sitting cross-legged. For the next 10-15 minutes we talked about their future, their mother's future and possibly theirs with mine. We emphasized what was going to have to change in their behavior and what the consequences would be if they did not. The conversation was good, because the boys reacted verbally, rather than just sit there taking it in. Then I hit them with a stress question.
"Boys, based upon all the things we just talked about, what should happen to you both for disobeying your Mother's orders to stay off the ice?" The expression on their faces was priceless.
The Paul blurted out, "We'd get our butts beat."
I grinned and went into a discussion about the difference between a beating and a spanking. It was made clear to them that I didn't beat little boys, but I most definitely spanked little boys, finishing with this set up question, "Do you boys deserve a spanking for disobeying me and your Mother?"
They looked at each other and then back at us and nodded their heads "Yes".
There is an old saying that goes something like this; "Necessity is the Mother of Invention". That was totally true in this situation.
I could not use any paddle or strap I had on the boys, because their backsides were too small for such tools. I then remembered an item I had once swatted Matt with in kind of play reminder about his chores, and the reaction it had gotten from him as he rubbed his brief covered butt, "_d_a_m_n_ that little thing really stings!"
One of my retail shoe storeowners/clients had given me a shoehorn, after one of my sales calls. This is no ordinary shoehorn. It was bright orange, almost 18" long, with a curved crook at the end, which fit your fingers perfectly. I still have that tool in my clothes bag to this day.
Also, a duplicate of it in black from the Johnston & Murphy shoe store in an area mall. That is in my spanking tool case. Both are plastic, very lightweight, curved like a shoehorn....and sting like hell. (It got such a great reaction from my daughter, that I never needed to use anything else on her, spanking her with it until her final session at age 19 a few years ago.) It never bruises, just stings and reddens...plus you can go a long time with it, really making a punishment statement with it.
Paul and Mike were going to be the first ones to experience an actual spanking with the orange shoehorn.
I directed Sharon to get a chair out of my office and put it in the middle of the rec room floor, as I was going to get the boy's underpants and a tool to use for their spankings. When I said spankings, versus spanking, all three of them looked startled.
I got the shoe horn from my closet and then pulled their briefs from the dryer. They were dry and warm, only their jeans still damp. I took the shoe horn and briefs to the waiting boys and said, "Drop the blankets and put on your underpants guys."
Paul wore Carter's white boys briefs with cartoon characters on them. Mike wore Sear's brand white briefs with Winnie the Pooh characters on his. Both fit snug as they pulled them up, as I sat down in the chair.
"Guys you have two spankings coming, one for not obeying me about staying off the ice, and the second for not obeying your mother. The first one will be on your underpants, the second on your bare butts. Paul you are first."
He didn't hesitate as climbed up on my lap. He probably didn't weigh 60 lbs. at that time, his buns were a very small target, snuggly covered in their cotton protection. I raised my right heel off the floor, jacking his butt up a little higher, giving me a target about the size of two small grapefruits encased in white. Rather than swing the shoe horn, I set my hand in position parallel with his butt and began a series of rapid wrist flips.
"OOWWWW" "NNOO, PLEASE". Paul started kicking and screaming from almost the first swat. The swat pattern was simple, 10 on the briefs, followed by 2 on the thighs. The briefs were too thick to see through, but the thigh swats showed me all I needed to know about how effective the tool was.
Every couple of sets I would stop and lecture, watching Mike's eyes get bigger and bigger the more his big brother screamed and kicked. Sandy grabbed hold of his wrists, keeping his hands from flying back to protect his increasingly hot butt.
When his thighs were totally dark pink I stopped and ordered him to stand and watch his brother, without rubbing his backside and keeping his hands on top his head. He hopped around for a couple of minutes, trying to shake the sting out of his butt and legs.
Mike was not nearly as courageous as his brother. Not then, not to this day. Sandy had to drag him over to me for his spanking. Mike was just a little smaller target, with thicker briefs than Paul's. From the reaction he gave from swat one, you would have thought he was getting it bare butt.
He screamed and kicked harder and more frantically than his big brother through out his entire spanking. He wobbled when he stood up, and then started frantically jumping up and down, begging for me to let him rub.
Finally both calmed down and I announced their second spanking. "Twelve on the bare boys, let's get this over with. Lay down on the arm of the love seat over there, one on one end, the other on the other end, facing each other".
They did and I instructed them to hold on to each other's hands and not to let go or they would get extra. This position gave them a bird's eye view of their brother's butt, jackknifed over the arms of the love seat.
Next came the peeling down of their warm briefs. Each of their bare butts was red, as the briefs came down and off.
Mike was on my left, Paul was on my right. I kneeled down facing Paul and had Sandy kneel down facing Mike. Sandy is left-handed, I am right handed.
I raised the shoehorn over my shoulder and brought it down sharply in the middle of Paul's butt. Not a hard swat, but a real stinging swat. He screamed and sent his feet towards the ceiling. The second swat caught his butt and thigh line square sending his feet towards the ceiling kicking.
I gave the shoehorn to Sharon and she duplicated my swats on Mike's bare butt, though she swung a bit harder. Mike reacted even stronger to her swats.
Five more times, each boy felt two swats, until all twelve were given. They didn't let loose of their hands, though several times Paul had to yell at his brother not to let loose.
That was the boys first spanking from me. Seven months later I married Sandy and adopted her two boys, raising them as my own. We later had a boy and girl of our own. Subsequent stories will tell you about their memorable spankings and those of some of their friends.
THIS STORY IS TRUE, JUST CERTAIN NAMES HAVE BEEN MODIFIED. I TRAVEL IN MY OWN BUSINESS, AND HAVE THE FREEDOM TO SAFELY SATISFY THE SPANKING NEEDS OF INTERESTED READERS.