textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/boy.txt

I was spanked twice after I "came on" to it at age 12.  Once when I was
13, because, as I said, I had been caught stealing from the neighborhood
Mom & Pop store.  This is the account of that incident:     .

Briefly, Mr. & Mrs. Rathkey had a store two blocks from our house, and all
the kids stopped in there to pick up small groceries for their parents, or
to buy penny candy for themselves.  The store had been there forever...in
fact, my Father had stopped in there when he was a boy and the Rathkeys
were a young married couple just starting out.  I say that by way of
letting you know that they knew my family very well.  At 12 1/2, I started
stealing.  Just for the thrill of it I guess...something that kids do.  At
first, just penny pretzels when Mrs. Rathkey's back was turned, later I
progressed to magazines, and Hostess Fruit Pies. (Cherry was my
favorite!).

One day, feeling cocky as usual that I had gotten away with it, I was on
my way down the concrete front steps of the store when I heard Mr. Rathkey
call my name.  

"You wouldn't happen to have anything extra in that bag today, would you,
Darla?" he asked.  "Not a comic book, or a little pie, perhaps?" My blood
froze in my veins, my heart rattled my ribcage.

"No, no sir" I sputtered.  "Nothing like that at all!!"  I fled down the
stairs and onto the sidewalk, terrified that he was going to call the
police!  I ran around the corner, and threw the "Archie and Veronica"
comic and the cherry pie into the nearest garbage can.  I shook all the
way home, my stomach in knots.

I knew from the look on my Grandmother's face when I ran up onto the front
porch that Mr. Rathkey had already called my house.  She looked at me
gravely, and said that I had better get upstairs, my parents wanted to see
me.  I hung my head and clutched my stomach, anticipating a screaming
lecture and not being allowed to go to a play the next night (a Sunday, I
recall) with Frank Sullivan...my first real date.  I didn't know what was
going to happen, but I certainly didn't expect what DID happen.  I hadn't
been spanked in over a year...I was too big a girl for that now, my Mother
had said.  In the meantime I had rocketed into puberty, and for the first
time I was having spanking fantasies on an almost nightly basis.  It was
odd to me...I certainly hadn't enjoyed them when they had happened, and
suddenly, imagining being over my boyfriend's knee with my panties down
was making me wet and wild in my bed alone at night.

Both my parents were in the kitchen.  My Mother sat at the table, her eyes
wet.  My Father stood over by the sink, his thumb hooked in his belt.
Neither spoke at first, each waiting for the other.

"What...we don't feed you enough?" my Father began.  "How can you shame me
like this, Darla?  You think Mr. Rathkey didn't call as soon as you left
the store?  You think he didn't tell me this has been going on for some
time, and that he let it go because our families have been such good
friends all these years? How do you think your Mother and I feel?  Look at
your Mother!  Look at her!!  Half of what you are going to get is because
you hurt your Mother, Darla!!"

I was sick to my stomach, wishing the last year had never happened,
wishing I had never stepped into Rathkey's this afternoon, wishing
..."what I was going to get?"  What did he mean?  I looked up at him,
tears in my own eyes, half from remorse, half from fear.  "Daddy?" I
questioned.  "Daddy, I'm really really sorry I did this...I didn't
think..."

"Yes, I know about that Darla...you didn't think.  You didn't think you
were going to be caught, you didn't think we would find out, you didn't
think how it would hurt us...and I'm sure you didn't think that this kind
of stupid, childish act was going to earn you the worst spanking you've
ever had!!"  The words hit me like a wall of bricks. Spanking??  No..that
can't be...

"Daddy, no, I don't get spankings anymore, I..." "Your Mother and I have
already discussed this, Darla.  Yes, I know we said you were too old to be
spanked anymore.  But this is a very serious business, and the punishment
has to be something you will remember all your life.  Do you understand?"

I was frantic.  There were NO thoughts of arousal, no little fantasies
now...this was for real, and they were angry, and all the terror of an 8
year old came back to me, along with the utter horror of having my
developing body exposed for such a humiliating punishment.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND??" he thundered again.

"Yes, Daddy", I said faintly, my hands protectively behind me already.

"And after that, there will be corner time.  And after that you will stay
home tomorrow night and nurse your bottom instead of seeing the play with
Frank.  Do you understand THAT?"

"Yes, Daddy", I started to cry.

"Now, here's what is going to happen, young lady.  You are going back to
your room right now.  I want you to put your desk chair in the middle of
the floor, and I want you to sit quietly on the edge of the bed until your
Mother and I come back there."

"Both of you?" I looked up from under my wet lashes, frightened.

"Both of us. You hurt both of us, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir.'

"Then both of us are going to punish you.  Your Mother is going to warm
your panties for you, and then they are going to be pulled  down, young
lady, and your Mother is going to give you the best paddling you've ever
had!"

"Oh, no Daddy...please...." I started to beg, backing away.

"Never mind that, Darla.  It won't do you any good.  When your Mother is
finished with you, you'll have five minutes to compose yourself and rub
your bottom.  Then, young lady..." he patted his belt..."you are going to
bend over for Daddy,. and I am going to give you the strap!"

I threw back my head and wailed. "NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, Daddy
PLEASE, I'll do ANYTHING, I'll be grounded for a month...a
year...PLEASE?????"

He grabbed my arm, pulled me away from the stove, and cracked my bottom
twice, very hard, with his hand.  I wailed and wiggled frantically.
"NOW, Darla.  Go to your room..NOW!!!"

They let me sit in there at least 15 minutes...it seemed like an hour.  I
tried to think of how to escape...I actually thought about crawling out
the window and jumping from the second story back porch.  I was crying, I
was frantic...but in my heart I knew I deserved it.  The look on my
Mother's face, her wet eyes...I felt like dying of shame and remorse. 
When at last they knocked softly on the door and came in, my stomach
twisted and I began to cry again.

"Do you have anything you want to say to us, Darla Lynn?" my Mother asked
as she sat down hard in the straight-backed chair from my desk.

I looked up at her, and the words came straight from my heart. "I'm so
sorry I shamed you Mom...I promise nothing like this will ever happen
again.  I feel so bad..."

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Dar" she said softly, "and the second part is
feeling your spanking so that the lesson sinks in.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mom" I sobbed.

"Come over to me, young lady!"

I walked to her side, she tugged my corduroy pants down to mid-thigh, and
with one swift movement she took hold of my wrist and pulled me down
across her knees. I felt my face redden as my white nylon panties pulled
tight across my upturned bottom...I knew from bitter experience that they
wouldn't offer any protection.

"I...I'm sorry Mommy..." I managed to choke out before her right hand
slapped down across both cheeks.  I yelled and my leg kicked up...I had
forgotten how much her hard hand could hurt.  Twenty times it rose and
fell, me crying after spank number 3 and not stopping even after she
stopped.  She held me in place across her knee, letting me cry it out for
a few minutes.

"Darla?"

"Yes, Mommy?"

"I'm going to pull down your panties, young lady, and begin your
paddling."

"Mommy, no please...it already hurts a lot, I think I've learned  my
lesson, Mom, ..."

"That's enough, Darla.  The simple fact that you are still arguing shows
Daddy and me that you haven't learned anything yet."

My Father had been so quiet that I'd forgotten he was in the room.  I
blushed furiously at the thought of him seeing my bare behind.  It was as
if she read my thoughts.

"You may stay in position, Dar, you don't need to get up.  Just lift your
tummy a little...there, good girl!"

I groaned in humiliation as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of my
panties and pulled them down to keep my corduroys company.  She patted my
bottom.

"You're nice and pink after your spanking, Darla, but you evidently have a
long way to go to learning your lesson!"  I heard movement, and realized
Daddy was probably handing her the hairbrush.

"Mommy, no please, don't paddle me Mommy, I'll be a good girl, I'll never
steal anything again, Mom, please...not the hairbrush, Mommy, it stings so
bad...please!"

I was already twisting and crying, and she grabbed my flailing right hand
as a precaution and pinned it to the small of my back.  She re-arranged my
bottom so it was at the highest possible point over her right knee, and I
heard her raise the brush.

It cracked down hard on my tender right cheek, then left, then center,
then the place where bottom meets thigh, then back to my right cheek and
the cycle began again.  I howled and bucked and begged and pleaded and
kicked to no avail. The hairbrush came raining down, leaving angry red
oval imprints all over my 13 year old fanny.  By the end of the paddling,I
was broken and sobbing in complete submission.

"Mommy, I'm sorry" I wept, laying limply over her lap as she stroked my
flaming cheeks with a cool hand.

"Ssshhh, baby, I know you are.  But what you did was very very bad...you
know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mommy" I sobbed, gasping for breath.

"And you know your punishment is not over yet, don't you?"

"Yes, Mommy" I groaned, all fight gone.

"Five minutes, Darla Lynn" I heard my Father say.  "You may have five
minutes to rub your bottom and get ready for the strap.  Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy"

They both left the room, and I threw myself down on the bed, crying as if
my heart would break.  I had glanced at my rear in the mirror...it was
flaming red and I had no idea how I was going to be able to take the
strap.  I massaged it tenderly, trying to remove some of the sting before
my next punishment, but the five minutes were up in a heartbeat.  They
both came back into my room and I turned my head to look at them...with my
red bottom and tear-streaked face, I must have been quite a sight.
My Dad had rolled up his right sleeve, and was flexing the strap as he
entered my room.  He doubled it, holding the loose ends firmly, and
stroked it across his left palm.

"Darla?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Time for the strap, young lady. You may stay on the bed...just swing your
legs around so they are over the side, and let's get some pillows under
your tummy so your fanny is up nice and high for Daddy."

I was crying softly, but I knew there was no point in arguing, so I
stuffed my two pillows under my belly and pushed myself into position.  I
felt so completely exposed and helpless, my bottom up high and bare for
the leather strap I knew would sting like wildfire.  I buried my head in
my arms and cried again.

"Darla, it's your choice.  This can be the last spanking you'll ever get,
or it can simply be the first of the last.  Your Mother and I will not
tolerate this kind of behavior.  We taught you better than this, and we
demand better than this.  Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy"

"And we will not hesitate to take your panties down over and over again
until you leave this house for good if there is any repeat of this kind of
activity.  Do you understand THAT?"

"Yes"

Yes WHAT?"

"Yes, Daddy!" I sobbed.

"That's better.  Count for me Darla.  And if you do not count,or miss a
count, we start over, is that understood?

"Yes, Daddy.....oooooohhhhhh Daddy, I'm so sorry, please don't strap me
hard Daddy, my fanny stings so much!"  I couldn't help myself.

The strap hissed through the air and cracked across my red bottom like a
live wire.  I threw back my head and screeched "ONE" through my sobs.
He punctuated the strapping with questions...

"How does that feel, young lady?  As good as stealing?  Are you learning
your lesson, Darla?  Is the strap teaching you?  Can you only learn when
your panties are down and Daddy is strapping you?"

I shouted and tossed my hips and bucked my bottom and cried and counted
until I was hoarse...twenty-five strokes in all.  When he finished, he
left the room, and my Mother sat on the bed, holding me and pressing a
cool washcloth against my scarlet bottom as I sobbed in her arms.

"I love you, Mommy" I wept, burying my face in her shoulder.

"I know you do, Darla, and we love you too.  That's why we were so upset,
and why we had to spank you so hard...do you know that?"

"Yes, Mommy. Thank you."

"Corner time, Sweetie."  I groaned again.

"Leave your pants and panties where they are, and go into the dining room.
 You'll stand with your nose against the wall for one half hour, young
lady, to think about what happened today.  And then to bed.  I'll bring
you a sandwich later."

I was beyond shame.  I hobbled into the dining room, thankful that at
least my brothers had evidently run downstairs to my Grandmother and
wouldn't see my humiliation.  I pressed my hot forehead against the cool
wall and thought about nothing other than the burning sting of my behind,
and how I never wanted to see another Hostess Cherry Pie as long as I
lived!