I hated being twelve....
The pain of the whipping I had received 30 minutes ago was gone except a few small spots where I knew there had to be welts. My face was still wet from tears, but I had stopped crying five minutes ago. I stood with my nose in the corner and my back to television and my brothers and sisters who sat around the TV probably gawking at me every chance they got. My pants and underwear were still down around my ankles and I was embarrassingly naked except the too small white t-shirt I wore.
I hated being twelve and hated whippings and right now, with the memory of my dads face and the pain of the whipping he gave me fresh in my mind, I hated my dad. I had punched my younger brother in the arm and instead of the little brat taking the slug, he bawled and ratted me out and when my dad came back from the kitchen, I knew I was in for it big time. He didnt even give me a chance to explain. He just pulled off his belt and glared, then came at me, big and angry. I was scared, but I couldnt help but be scared. I was the oldest of my brothers and sisters and bigger, but I was still small compared to my dad, almost three times smaller. He could pick me up by the arm and drag me across the room without even stopping to catch his breath, and he did. I felt helpless and afraid and I said nothing, too afraid.
I found I was facing the end of the couch, several feet from where I had been a few seconds ago and my arm hurt from my dads grip. I rubbed and whined, but knew, at least with my dad, it was going to get me nowhere. The dreaded demand was spoken in front of my brothers and sisters and there was no taking it back.
It was embarrassing. The only time my brothers and sisters saw me without my clothes were times like these.
Except once. I had a tick to the right of my penis and my mother had insisted it had to be removed. It was bedtime and I was in my pajama bottoms. It was too warm to wear a shirt and so when my mom insisted she had to take a look and get it off me, I felt so embarrassed when she pulled me closer to the light and pulled down the front of my pajama bottoms and briefs, almost fully exposing my penis to her and the light. She didnt care that I was embarrassed, it was a tick after all and that was life threatening. I wished I had just pulled it out and kept my mouth shut. She got my sister to get some alcohol and tweezers from the medicine cabinet, while she kept my penis exposed. Then she did the unexpected when my sister came back with tweezers and alcohol....she let go of my pajama bottoms. They fell to my ankles and landed in a heap and when I looked up I saw my brothers and sisters all gawking, all staring and before I knew it, my mother had pulled on the elastic of my briefs and pulled them down so she could get a better look at the tick. I had quickly grabbed them before they fell, but stood red faced with the cool living room air caressed my bare butt and my mother worked on the tick while my hairless penis bobbed to life....
"Pull your pants down."
"Please dad, please," I had pled and started crying, "I didnt hurt him, Im sorry."
He was deaf. His face got angrier and I knew I had to pull down my pants. I did. I unsnapped my pants and lowered the zipper and with my eyes staring at the floor and my stomach feeling sicker with each second, I stuck my fingers in the elastic waistband of my cotton briefs and tugged down. I could feel my brothers and sisters watching me, and I felt the embarrassment I had tried to forget before come over me again as my penis flopped from its cover and my creamy white butt became exposed while I pushed my pants past my quivering kneecaps.
I straightened up, holding my left hand over my exposed genitals and bent across the end of the couch.
In a few seconds, after holding my breath for what seemed forever, I was screaming, feeling the bite of the leather belt slap across my bare cheeks, squirming madly against the rough material of the couch and gripping leg and butt muscles as the fire from the whipping sizzled against my tender skin. The pain made me hold my breath, grit my teeth, bawl like I was an infant and my small body danced, straightening, squirming side to side, grasping the couch like I was going to fall off if I let go. I could feel the belt bite welts into the tops of my legs, the sides of my cheeks, across the middle of each mound as the belt slapped across my crack. The belt burned with every contact, slicing against my throbbing buttocks and across the tops of both legs when I squirmed away and wrapping around to the sides of my hips. The slapping sound the belt made when it connected to my bare flesh was punctuated with the high pitch of my squeals and screams and occasional pleas.
Then, mercifully, it ended. The last smack of the belt crisscrossed my throbbing, welted butt cheeks and left me sobbing uncontrollably across the end of the couch while my dad re-looped the belt and dropped into his recliner.
"Stand in the corner for a while."
I slowly straightened, reaching back to feel the warm, clammy moist of my butt and the emanating heat, not caring anymore that my penis was exposed, flopping about while I rubbed my butt cheeks. I reached gingerly to pull up my under shorts but was stopped by my dads voice.
"You can keep them down," He grumbled, "and put your hands on your head."
I did. I continued to sob, scuffling to the nearest corner and folding my fingers on my sweaty blond head and thinking how much I hated being twelve. I hated whippings and I hated being just a kid. And I hated birthdays most of all.
Today was my birthday. This wasnt my present but this was what I got for my birthday. When I was ten I had gotten a brand new bike....when I was eleven I had gotten a CD player that I could carry everywhere with me. Now that I was twelve I was wanting a computer game or something but I got a whipping instead.
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear....
I did get a couple of computer games later, after dinner when my mom brought out the birthday cake and I blew out the candles. I also got a bigger bike, a ten speed. But I couldnt ride it yet, not until my bottom stopped being sore....
I guess it wasnt too bad being twelve....sometimes....