A true story.
One day, when I was just nine, I was taken to the doctor's by my mum. It was a nine o' clock appointment, and so I was dressed in my school uniform, grey shirt with elasticated red tie, grey pullover, grey shorts, knee high socks. We didn't wear caps, as mine was a state (free) primary school in England. I did have my duffle-coat on, which reached half-way down my thighs, about in line with the hem of my shorts, but didn't keep the stinging rain off my exposed delicate legs. Mum planned on taking me to school after the doctor's, but she also intended doing some shopping whilst we were in town. In those days we walked, it was over a mile to the doctor's, and the shops were on the way back. School was about half way home from the shops, so a convenient trip for mum.
It was cold, and raining hard as we trudged to the doctor's. I remember feeling a bit poorly, but can't recall the exact reason for the visit. Certainly I was not seriously ill, maybe just a chesty cough, or it might have been regarding my bed-wetting. Other events that day occupy my memory more vividly.
You see, after the doctor's appointment, it had stopped raining. We walked towards the High Street in weak sunshine. I asked mum if I could go into the play area for a bit. She was anxious to get on with her shopping, but still agreed to let me have a few minutes on the swings.
"But," mother insisted, "You are not to go on the slide."
"Aw mum, I will be alright, please" I whinged. The slide was new, very big, and steep. An exciting new challenge for the local boys.
"No" Mother was firm.
I went onto the miserable swings, and got under way. There it was, the slide, right in front of me. Mother went towards the ladies toilets. This was a good sign. If she went in, I could stay and play for ages.
Mum entered the toilets, and was some way off. I figured that she would not see me, so in a flash jumped off the swing, and raced up the steep steps of the slide. I had to be quick, in case she was only checking her face in the mirror. At the top, I grabbed the handrails, swung my legs through, and sat down onto the highly polished smooth surface. I was away, descending rapidly to earth.
But as soon as the seat of my shorts landed the horrible realisation dawned. My duffle coat had ridden up as I swung, and I was sliding with it half-way up my back. My shorts were the only item in contact with the slide. The soaking wet slide. As I descended, my bum was mopping up the freezing cold water. There was a spray flying onto my bare thighs, and my bum was soaked, and very cold. Also, the water helped me to go faster, so much faster in fact that I shot off the end, and landed in a muddy patch on the grass.
Mother had not remained in the toilets for very long.
"Oh dear, mother has seen me!" I thought.
Mum came swiftly over. I stood up, crying already, and waddled towards her. Mud and water oozing down my thighs. We converged at a park bench.
Mummy sat down, and I stood in front of her. She lifted the rear of my duffle-coat. "You're soaking" she snarled.
"I'm sorry, mummy" I sobbed genuine apologies.
"You'll have to take these off" mummy reached for, and then undid the clasp of my shorts, and I dutifully stepped out of them. She wrung them out and put them in her shopping bag. A big hand squeezed the seat of my previously white underpants.
"These too," and mum slid them down. I stepped out of the underwear, crying profusely. The underpants were squeezed and put into her bag.
For the third time mummy lifted my duffle-coat up.
SMACK. A stinging hand swiped my upper left thigh, almost on the buttock.
SMACK. SMACK. Two more wickedly painful slaps landed square on the bared buttocks. My tears turned to screams, as the pain and remorse surged through me.
"Now, we'll have to go home before taking you to school, and you'll be getting a good hiding." Mum announced. She straightened up my duffle-coat. I felt very strange, wet bare smacked bum, in the park.
Mum took my hand and marched me to the exit. The exit that led to the shops. I had expected to via the other gate, the one that led straight home, now I learned I was to be paraded round the town with no pants.
"But Mum, I can't go into town like this" I cried.
"It's alright, nobody will know if you don't run around, and don't undo your coat." As we approached the first shop, mummy wiped my face with her handkerchief. I stopped sobbing.
So, with a naked rear end I stood quietly next to mum as she shopped. I must have been the best behaved boy ever to tour the town, clutching mummy's hand, never straying from her side. I was a very subdued. It was such a strange feeling, walking the streets with no trousers or underpants. Every time we had to go up steps, I paused to check that there was nobody behind me, and kept close to the wall, away from the railings, to ensure nobody noticed my bare bottom.
Several shop-keepers commented about my quietness.
"He's a bit poorly" mum explained, "been to the doctor's"
"Oh the poor thing" one shop-keeper even gave me a lollipop. Mum said I could have it later, after my medicine. The shop-keeper had visions of tablets or tea-spoons of syrup, but I knew what she had in mind.
That trip seemed to last for an eternity. Mum called at almost every shop on the way home, I began to think she was doing it on purpose. But finally we did head for home. I had hoped that she would have forgiven me by the time we got home, after all I had been so good in the shops.
Maybe mum had. She had been talking quite harshly to me at first, but after a time became less abrupt. And she had been right, I had checked in the mirror in a few shops, my naked buttocks were quite secret, hidden beneath the hem of my grey coat.
The rain had started again, and the wind was getting stronger. My coat hem was flapping against my bare thighs, and the drops stinging my legs as usual. I felt quite safe, comforted in my wise mummy's presence. I squeezed her hand and hugged her. She gave me a peck on the forehead.
However, when we got in, I went and hung up the coat, as a good little boy had been trained to do. I had to reach up to the adult-height coat peg, and that was when mum must have seen my bum. As I stood on tip-toe, I must have reminded her about my breach of her orders. And now here I was, cleared for action. What a sight I must have been, a white little boy wearing just his school grey shirt and pullover, damp white vest poking out, long grey socks pulled up neatly. Bare bum cheeks reddened by the earlier smacks, thighs reddened slightly by the rain and wind.
Mum, following me, hung up her coat, then went to the kitchen drawer, and took out her favourite big wooden spoon.
"Come here" she ordered as she sat on a kitchen chair. I was smartly upturned over her knee, and swiftly corrected. It did not take many smacks to make me cry, but it took a great many to satisfy mum. All the while she scolded as she spanked.
"You will not disobey me young man" SMACK. SMACK.
"You were told to stay off that slide" SPANK, SLAP, SMACK.
"You don't think, do you?" SMACK. SMACK .......... SMACK.
On and on it went, the cold dampness on my buttocks quickly replaced with a fiery heat, but worst was the sheer pain, gosh it stung.
Finally, it was over. I was left to cry it out on the settee. Corner-time was never a feature in our house. But pants were not yet replaced. I was to stay bare-bottomed until after lunch. Mum decided that the incident had taken up too much time up, she would take me to school after lunch, on her way back to the shops.
So I spent an hour or so lying on the carpet, face down, reading my school reading book, with a bright red bottom on show to the whole world. Thankfully, nobody came calling. After lunch, I even had to wash up, bare-bottomed, whilst mum found some clothes for me.
The final indignity was then applied. I had not thought of it until it happened. I only had one decent pair of grey school shorts. Mum dug out some old ones, which were very short and tight. What a sight I made, as I walked to school sucking a lollipop, anybody seeing me would think I had no pants on under my duffle-coat.