An Eventful Weekend

This is one of those orphan stories in my library for which I have no identifying data. I’ve changed it up quite a bit, so it’s part original, part rewrite. A coming-of-age story.

 

An Eventful Weekend

It was the Labor Day weekend and I was 17 years old. I was about to start my Junior year of High School, had just received my driver’s license, was a “jock” so to speak, and felt very grown up. I was about 5’9” and a solid 140 Lbs. of virile young man (or so I thought). I had worked all summer at a series of lawn mowing jobs and was taking the last week of summer off to relax and get ready for the return to school the following Tuesday. I was invited to spend most of that week at a lake cottage thirty miles away owned by my close Aunt Mary and Uncle Harold. My Uncle Harold owned a business in town, so he commuted back and forth each day. I was the man of the house so to speak during the day. I did odd jobs around the place to show my gratitude, and had ample time for swimming, sun bathing and fishing. It couldn’t get any better than this.

 

Or could it? I discovered that two cottages down was a very attractive girl I’d not seen in over three years. Her name was Vicki, and her maker did not skimp on the parts or misplace any of them. This girl had it all — a terrific high set firm bust, long gorgeous legs and a round and shapely ass. We soon became a threesome swimming, sun bathing and just goofing off. Vicki was one year younger than I was, so Vicki and my cousin Ellie looked to me as the leader and honcho of the group.

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Things started to unravel on the third day, the Saturday of the weekend. I am an avid fisherman and was out fishing late that morning. My uncle was working in town and my folks were not due to join us for the weekend until late that PM. The fishing had not been good, so I was a little frustrated. To make matters worse, Ellie and Vicki decided to take the paddleboat and pedal out to where I was fishing. They became pests, constantly circling the boat and making fun of the few small fish I had caught. I eventually called it quits and went back to the cottage.

 

I was steamed, but did not say anything out of line to the two pests in the paddleboat because I really liked Vicki. However, I was about to really tell off my cousin. Vicki went back to her cottage to change into her swimsuit, as we were to go swimming soon. After she left I really lit into my cousin. She took exception, and the next thing I knew we were in a hot sibling type argument. Words (the wrong one‘s it turns out) flew as we were nose to nose. This drew the attention of my Aunt Mary who came outside and was more upset about the words being exchanged than we were with each other. My aunt grabbed each of us by the arm and escorted us into the cottage. There she held court…as judge and jury.

 

Eventually it came out that their pranks had upset me. My aunt was really mad. First she was upset that the prank had been played. Second she was mad because we were fighting over such nonsense. But she was really livid over the foul language being used by each of us. After about five minutes of ‘he said – she said,’ Aunt Mary decided each of us were to be punished. The rule in their family was zero tolerance for certain language and we’d both violated that one big time.

We had separate bedrooms in the cottage, and we were directed to go to our respective rooms, stay there in silence, and talk to no one. She would be in to deal with each of us in turn. I did as I was told, because I respected and loved my aunt and had to agree I had let loose with some pretty bad words. Little did I know what would happen next.

 The bedrooms shared a common wall that was pretty thin. The first inclination I had that this was serious was when I heard the lecturing in the next room start and heard those chilling words…”Ellie, pull down your shorts. You are going over my knee.” This was followed by pleading bordering on hysteria about ‘being too old to be spanked’ and the word ‘hairbrush’ mixed in somewhere. At that point I began to really sweat. Based on prior knowledge, I was aware that Aunt Mary believed in spanking, and now it appeared that was exactly what was going to happen to Ellie. My cousin was making most of the noise and it was obvious she was about to get it good. Then I heard the very clearly stated command to ‘get yourself over my knee, young lady,’ followed a few seconds later by the unmistakable sound of a firm hand striking bare flesh. The percussive sound of steady and rhythmic slapping was accompanied by cries of pain, lots of begging and pleading, eventually turning to sobbing, and I am sure, plenty of tears.

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At this point I still had no idea of what I was in for, but I wanted no part of what was going on in the next room. I felt like a prisoner listening to a fellow inmate being tortured in the next cell. I could visualize the scene. Ellie was cute. She had a curvy little butt, and I imagined it was presently bare and propped up over my aunt’s knee taking a sound whacking. Her butt probably wobbled as her mom spanked it. She likely was kicking her legs as much as the shorts at her knees would allow and bucking and squirming as her mom’s arm rose and fell, planting crisp smacks all over those bare cheeks of her fanny. I was getting a hard on listening and seeing it in my mind’s eye. Still, I was becoming increasingly worried about my own fate. I wasn’t part of their family so surely the rules didn’t apply to me, did they? I mean, I expected to get chewed out, but that would be that.

 

Finally, the racket in the next room began to subside. It was at that moment I heard a knock on the screen door just a few feet away from the door to my cell/bedroom. I had no idea who was knocking or how long they had been at the door. I thought my Aunt Mary had not heard the knocks, so I decided to answer the door. I was about half way out the door when I realized my aunt had heard the person knocking at the door. My aunt shot a glaring laser like stare at me and coldly asked if I insisted adding disobeying her instructions to everything else I had done. At that moment I realized the person at the door was Vicki, decked out in her swimsuit and carrying her towel. What a scene — me caught in mid-stride being ordered to return to my room, my Aunt half way to the door with a large wooden hairbrush in her hand, and Vicki, wide eyed and taking it all in. That was embarrassing enough, but the conversation that followed made me want to just evaporate. My Aunt asked Vicki very cordially what she wanted. Vicki asked if my cousin and I could go swimming. I think she knew the answer, but did not know what else to say. My aunt stated in a firm but friendly voice that Ellie and I were being punished for fighting and would not be available until later that afternoon. Vicki asked if she could use the diving board off the end of our pier and do some sun bathing. My Aunt said sure, but to be careful. Vicki assured her she was lifeguard qualified and everything would be just fine. Fine for her but not for me.

 

I know Vicki heard what transpired next, and I’m not sure she didn’t somehow see it, too, as I’ll explain later. All I know is Aunt Mary walked into my room carrying the dreaded hairbrush in one hand and I knew I was in big trouble. She was extremely composed, very calm and self-assured. She started out by reminding me of the no foul language rules she enforced in her home. Then she made me feel about 2 inches tall by telling me how ashamed my mom would be with my behavior and if this was the way I showed my gratitude for their hospitality. After a couple of minutes of this lecturing I was really ashamed, saying how sorry I was and just wanting to get this whole thing over with. Then she laid the magic phrase on me… ‘I just gave Ellie a sound spanking, Rob, so to be fair I’m going to have to spank you, too, for your misbehavior.’ I felt like someone threw a bucket of cold water on me. I was in a panic. I thought, what!!? A spanking?

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I started stammering I was too old to be spanked, this was not right, I was sorry, I’d do anything, but pleeease don’t spank me. I mean, I was seventeen, for God’s sake.

This obviously made no difference whatsoever. I was told in no uncertain terms that the rules applied to me too. She did not waver. Instead, she gave me that dreaded command I can hear to this day:

“Take your shorts down, Rob. Underwear too. Spankings around here are given on the bare bottom, young man. That applies to you just like it did to Ellie.”

 

On my bare bottom? I could not believe it. I begged her, but it was no use. Here I thought I was “the man’, but I was in such a confused state, I put up no resistance. I undid my belt and shoved my pants to my knees.

She gestured with the brush. “Underpants, too. Get ‘em down.”

 

I blubbed and moaned about not wanting to be seen like this, but my aunt just reassured me she had seen me many times before and this was not a concern.  She pulled an old straight back oak chair into the middle of the room and sat down. I came around to her side and laid myself across her lap. It was absolutely humiliating for me, a seventeen year old boy, to lie over the knees of my aunt, bare butt up and completely exposed. I realized this was really going to happen and fear and shame kicked into over drive. I have no idea what was said, but I know much begging, pleading and some crying took place before the first spank was delivered.

 

All she said was, “Hold your legs straight out, toes pointed. Do not get up or struggle. This will hurt, but part of discipline is accepting correction. If you get off my lap or try and block the spanks, we will stay here until you get twice as much, understood?”

 

I managed a weak, “Yes, ma’am.”

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She put her hand on my bare bottom and I clenched up and grit my teeth. Then she let loose with a series of hard spanks with her palm. The first few don’t really hurt that much, it’s a shock to the system. The real stinging comes after about ten whacks. After that it’s an escalation of painful stinging heat that gets worse and worse with each smack that lands. My aunt was a very accomplished spanker. She must have delivered about 50 or 60 hand spanks to my bottom in the first three minutes of the ordeal. It stung like nothing I’d ever felt. I was in agony. The searing heat she applied to my fanny was unbearable. I tried my best to be stoic but I wanted to sob. At one point she actually said, “Stop fighting this, let yourself go, cry it out.” Cry I did. She began to scold me and ask questions. In between sobs, I tried to answer each question honestly and accurately. I still had hope I might survive this encounter without experiencing that awful hairbrush.

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My Aunt’s hairbrush was a fairly large oval brush about 3/4’s of an inch thick and made of a heavy wood. Just about the time I was convinced she was going to release me, she said in a low firm voice, “Now I’m going to spank you with this brush, just like I did with Ellie. Twenty spanks are coming. Get ready. Do not attempt to wrestle free or this could take a long time to finish”. With that the first strokes of the brush hit me. I shrieked in agony and began kicking my legs furiously. My Aunt just tightened her grip on my waist and kept on delivering the spanks. It was slow and methodical. She delivered one stroke about every five seconds. Enough time for each one to be felt and distinguished from the previous, and close enough together that the heat and pain kept building. I was beside myself, it was so painful.

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I blubbered. I howled. I must have sounded like a six year old, not a young man. At one point she paused long enough to withdraw one of her legs from under me and use it to pin down my flailing legs. In this position I was completely immobile and at her tender mercies. I felt one hot stinging spank after another impacting my throbbing bottom, sending me into a paroxysm of squirming and pleading. I have no idea how long this lasted, but it must have been another ten minutes. All during my punishment she lectured to ensure I was getting the point, (I fervently tried to convince her I was) punctuating her points with spanks from the brush.

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Finally she stopped, and I must have cried my eyes out for a minute or two until I realized it was over. Then I just hung over her lap until I had regained my composure. At this point she helped me up and directed me to go stand in the corner opposite the doorway with my hands clasped on top of my head until I was told I could move. She emphasized that I was forbidden to rub my bottom and that she would be checking back every so often. If I disobeyed, I could expect more of the same. Needless to say I followed her directions to the letter.

 

The door was left open to the room so she could spy on me at any time. I was kept in this position for almost an hour. At that time she returned, asked if I had learned anything (to which I rattled off everything I could think of) and was then told to put my shorts back on, wash up, and come out for lunch. I believe my cousin was standing in a corner in the other bedroom all the while. I am sure she heard every word and sound. We made up and have never brought up the subject of our respective ordeals to this day. I was so embarrassed I felt I could barely face Vicki that afternoon because from where she was, she probably heard the whole thing too.

 

To my surprise, Vicki was fascinated. I was reluctant to talk about it, I was so humiliated, but later that day, Vicki cajoled me into opening up. She wanted all the details. So, I told her. That led eventually to one of the most intense, most insane make out events of my young life. It turned out Vicki was curious. She wanted to know what a spanking was like – and she wanted me to show her.

 

To be continued……

 

 

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One response to “An Eventful Weekend

  1. Another good one. I really like the context of this. Look forward to what happens to Vicki and maybe even beyond that.

    Like

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