MY BUDDY
It was 1987. My teenage years had become just memories, some fond, some not. The most important thing to me in the world right now was that I was a dad. Buddy had just turned 11. His mother and I had divorced about 5 years ago. There was nothing at all friendly about the divorce proceedings; in fact, they were incredibly ugly, but there was never a point at which I considered not fighting for custody of Buddy. This was life and death for me. I totally hated to put him through that tug of war, but I couldnt bear the thought of being anything other than his full time father. My lawyer had explained that the odds of winning this battle were extremely long, but I believe partly due to the judges unusual step of interviewing 6 year old Buddy, I was granted full custody.
As I implied in the preceding paragraph, Buddy was my whole life. Summers consisted of taking him to tennis tournaments, winters to hockey practices, games and special competitions. I had a good job, but devotion to my son clearly impacted possibilities for promotion. My career could wait, I figured, until he was old enough to look after himself. Buddy was without question an athletic prodigy. I had no idea where he got that from. He was in the top 10 in Ontario in his age group in tennis, and in hockey, playing in a league with older boys, he was a star. There was no other way to describe it. I had colleagues suggest to me, in a friendly manner, that I was living vicariously through my son. I felt that maybe they were right, but I knew I had never pushed him too hard. His drive came entirely from within and I just encouraged and guided him.
One thing was absolutely certain. I wanted his childhood to be better than mine. I had very few friends and had been plagued by bullies. Buddys sports activities had seemed to make him a lot of friends. There was some jealousy, but he was considerate to others and generally very popular. I considered his childhood to be idyllic and I felt just great about that. I knew I over-compensated for the fact that his mother was virtually un-involved in his life, but I was careful to ensure that he had rules, boundaries and consequences. Grounding is not always an effective punishment, but it was for Buddy. The threat of being excluded from a hockey game or something was a major deterrence to any transgression. Wed found a way to be best buddies (I felt his name was so appropriate), while never losing sight of the fact that I was his dad.
He told me that his friends often talked about getting spanked by their parents, and said he was glad that I didnt believe in spanking. Well I had never told him that I didnt, and he had received the odd swat from his mom or me when he was very young, but likely didnt remember. I just hugged him and said I hoped Id never have to spank my best buddy. When he turned around to walk away, I gave him a whack on his tennis shorts. He gave me a funny look, said "oww" and scampered off. Id never ruled out spanking him but preferred not to. It partly related to something that nagged at me a bit. The few times that I had administered spankings, beginning from the time I was 12 and spanked the bully in the laneway, I discovered that having a defenseless young bottom at my mercy totally excited me. I had only spanked a few times, however and I knew that all the spankings I had given were richly deserved. Not only that, they seemed to have been very effective.
One of Buddys favourite activities in late August and early September was playing road hockey on the street with the neighborhood boys. I came home from work one day and watched the boys play a bit, on the quiet cul de sac where we lived. They had 4 boys per team and the action seemed a little intense. I recognized 2 of the boys as living about a block away. Patrick was 12 and his brother Kyle was13. I knew the boys from my sons hockey team and had spoken to them occasionally. I had seen their dad at games but had never actually struck up a conversation. I was watching the road hockey game from a bit of a distance when I saw Buddy running toward the net with both Patrick and Kyle defending. Although I was a little bit back, I saw Patrick and Kyle simultaneously stick a foot out and trip Buddy, who proceeded to fall face first on the concrete, protecting his fall with his left arm.
As I rushed out to check on Buddy, both Patrick and Kyle, said "sorry Mr. Jones, it was an accident", and they ran off. My immediate reaction was accident like hell, that was a coordinated assault, but I said nothing as I tended to Buddy. His arm had gone limp. I was amazed at how loudly he was crying as he was generally fairly stoic. I think it was the realization that his arm was hurt badly enough that it would interfere with his hockey season. We immediately got into the car and I drove to the local hospitals emergency department. After taking an X-ray, they concluded that there was a cracked bone in the wrist and hed need a cast. I ended up driving one totally forlorn little guy with his arm in a sling back to the house.
On the way home, he asked me "Dad, was that an accident? I just looked at him and didnt say anything. He started sobbing and said he had felt both boys feet tripping him at the same time. I just hugged him and said Id speak to the boys father.
I knocked on the door of Patrick and Kyles dad, later that day. He immediately invited me in and offered me a drink. Before I could even tell him why I was there, he said that he was glad Id come over. Hed been meaning to invite me for some time. He explained that he was a widower and that his wife had died at a similar time to when I was going through divorce proceedings. He seemed very glad to have someone to unload this on. He eventually apologized for going on like that and realized that he hadnt even asked me why I came over. At this point, I found myself quite liking him and it was difficult to say what I intended to. I explained what I saw at the road hockey game and what happened to Buddy. He was incredulous and said he couldnt believe it was more than a careless accident, but he said hed call the boys down and we could both question them.
The boys came downstairs from their room and stood in front of us. "Hows Buddy", Kyle asked.
"He has a broken arm", I replied
"It was an accident" came the response, almost in unison.
It wasnt that their dad didnt believe them, but he decided to probe every detail of what happened. I also told them that I actually witnessed the whole thing. As they started to grow more uncomfortable, their dad lost patience and yelled at them "Why did you trip him". At this point they both seemed to breakdown and started sobbing.
Patrick blubbered: "We were jealous of him. We talked about tripping him if we had the opportunity"
"Why", I said as I directed the question toward Kyle.
"I dunno", he said. "We didnt think". Patrick nodded.
Their dad was totally exasperated and told them to go back upstairs. He turned to me with a look that seemed to say, what do I do now? "Theyve never done anything like this in their lives. Ive never felt ashamed of them before, like I do now." I asked how he normally disciplined them. He said he would ground them, withhold their allowance, or withdraw privileges. "This seems so cruel, though", he stated. "I think they need something that theyre not used to, to reinforce how serious this was". He asked me if Id ever spanked Buddy before. I said no, although I had occasion to spank a few boys as a teenager. Hed made up his mind, he said. Patrick and Kyle were going to get a proper spanking, and he wanted it to be something they would remember. He told me, however that he had no experience with spanking. Hed never been spanked as a child and wasnt even all that sure how to do it. Would he have to use some type of implement? Or would a hand have a sufficient impact on 12 and 13 year olds? He indicated that he didnt think he could hit them with anything more than a hand. I said that the hand could have a fairly significant impact if applied to the bare bottom, but having to spank 2 boys, his hand might get sore.
Having heard this, he turned to me and asked if Id help him spank the boys. I was a little reluctant but eventually agreed after discussing it with him further. We started talking about how we were going to do this. The first thing he suggested was that Buddy be allowed to witness it since he was the aggrieved party. My reason for agreeing to this sounded rather callous but I thought it would make Buddy feel a lot better than he was feeling right now. Mr. Black (their dad) also had another suggestion to which I quickly nodded my head. I then called my mom who had been staying with Buddy at my place and asked her to send him over to Mr. Blacks place for a bit. When he knocked on the door, I told him to have a seat on the sofa, and that we had called him over so that he could witness something. Mr. Black then called for the boys to come downstairs.
He asked them to face Buddy and if there was anything they felt they should say to him. They said they were sorry for tripping him. "Was it an accident?" Mr. Black asked.
"No", said the boys. Mr. Black then said he was going to get right to the point. Both boys were going to get a proper spanking. They looked at each other with a somewhat shocked expression, and in unison sputtered "were too old".
"I thought you were too old to do something that stupid, cruel and thoughtless" said Mr. Black. Anyway, lets get on this. The boys seemed somewhat resigned their fate and waited for Buddy and me to be asked to leave. Their mouths were wide open after Mr. Black told them that hed asked me to assist and that Buddy would be allowed to watch. I suggested to Mr. Black that it would be simplest if Patrick and Kyle were told to remove all their clothes. At this suggestion, their jaws totally dropped. They never imagined that they were going to get it on the bare. Mr. Black then ordered them "undress now".
The boys removed their shoes and socks, then their shirts and reluctantly their pants, eventually standing before us in their underwear. "Take them off" he shouted. They slowly complied. He told them to wait there and he went to the kitchen to fetch two straight back chairs without arms. He placed them a bit apart from each other in the living room and we proceeded to sit down. He told Kyle to come over to him and bend across his lap. As he positioned him in a manner as we discussed earlier, I told Patrick to also bend over my knee. I had told Mr. Black that he should redden every part of his bottom, but if he wanted maximum impact, he should move him forward on his lap and concentrate on the spot where he sits down for a while.
We both started spanking the boys, not so hard at first and then building in intensity. Their reactions made it very clear that they werent used to this. Hand spanking a 12 and 13 year old should not create this degree of agony, I thought. But clearly the intention was to cause pain, and we ignored their howling. In fact the louder they howled, the harder we spanked. They caught on eventually and toned it down. After a few minutes, we glanced at each other and let the boys up. They began furiously rubbing their bottoms and started to walk away. We both told them to wait and that its not over. We had only agreed to exchange boys. I told Kyle to get his red butt over my lap and Patrick lay over Mr. Blacks. We had been spanking fairly slowly and deliberately previously, but decided that this round would consist of a rapid volley of sharp smacks on their vulnerable sit spot area. They were both placed head near the floor and bottom positioned directly over our left knee. After about two minutes of what sounded like machine gun fire, we let them up as they were crying so hard, they could barely catch their breath. Mr. Black told them to stand in the corner with their hands on their head, and said we were almost done.
He went briefly into the kitchen, came back into the living room and walked up to Buddy who was still sitting on the couch watching the show, in the corner, and handed him the thick breadboard that he got from the kitchen. Mr. Black had reasoned that an instrument used by an 11 year old would not be too severe and ordered the 2 boys in the corner to lay side by side over the arm of the sofa and raise their shiny red bottoms in the air. Buddy was told he could give each of them 6 whacks with the breadboard. I wondered if Buddy would feel sympathy and go easy on the boys.
Well I didnt have to wonder too long. Buddy was glad he only broke his left wrist and laid into those boys with all the power his barely 11 year old body could muster. He tried to remain expressionless, but I could detect a broad grin forming on his face. Oh Lord, I thought. Im raising my own little spanko.
When Buddy was done, the boys were told to just lay there for a bit. Buddy and I left fairly quickly and headed for home. Now Buddy was grinning from ear to ear. It was clear he felt that was the best show hed ever attended or participated in. I put my arm around him and just told him that if I ever heard that hed teased the boys about this, hed get the same treatment. He just laughed as if to say, who me, tease anyone? But he did have a bit of a look that seemed to indicate that he was a little uneasy at having witnessed what I was capable of doing to a naughty boy.
Did I ever actually spank Buddy, You ask. Well, if I had, that would be another story, wouldnt it?