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In 1997, I posted a series of true-life stories that got a lot of very positive e-mail response from readers of this website. I never finished the series, until now. In reviewing these original submissions, I have edited these stories and now repost them with typo corrections, etc. These repostings will be done every couple of days, and the series completed with all new stories. This series begins when I was 11, and ends a year ago, with the stories posted chronologically. Enjoy!
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My brother, sister and I, all attended summer camps from the time we were 10 through 16. This gave my parents time to be by themselves, because of my Dad's constant traveling. Once such camp for me was at a military school. I loved it. During the second summer of that camp, my Mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Back then the prognosis was not good. My parents decided that in view of my Mom's health, they better get us kids used to a boarding school. Since my brother was going from elementary to junior high, they put him in at the start of the school year. I played football at our local junior high and then transferred. Three stories will recount some of the memorable spanking experiences I had during my 7th & 8th grade years in military school.
That spring semester was absolute pleasure, after I adjusted from my mid-term transfer in the fall. The structure and discipline of a quasi-military life was beginning to shape me up. I was getting the best grades of my life. I was now the second floor NCO in our junior school barracks. My Dad & Mom had become personal friends with the junior school commandant. Everyone was very proud of me....until one fateful day, at the end of the spring semester.
Every three weeks my brother Bill and I went back home on the train, for a Saturday morning visit to the orthodontist, to adjust the braces on our teeth. We left each Friday on the 5:30 train and returned on Sunday, in time for the chapel services. In early April, we were scheduled for such a trip.
We arrived at the train station; 30 minutes prior to the scheduled stop/departure dressed in our dark blue, dress parade uniforms. As soon as we got our tickets, we saw that the train was running 45 minutes late.
We decided to go across the train tracks to buy some magazines. We took our time about it, and got back to the station about 5:25. The 45-minute delay message was still written on the schedule board. At about 5:40, I felt for my wallet and realized I must have left it at the drugstore when I bought the magazines. Bill and I both ran back out the door and across the tracks to get my wallet. Sure enough, the clerk smiled and gave it back to me.
Just as we started out the drugstore door, we heard the train whistle, and saw the track crossing lights and bar activate. We ran as hard as we could, but knew we couldn't make it. After the train finally stopped, we knew we were had. The train was long on Friday nights, and we didn't think we could run around it and make it back to the boarding platform. The train stopped only long enough to board the few passengers that were at our small town station. I then got, what I thought was a brilliant idea. We would go under the train.
"Bill, let's crawl under the train. It's our only chance to make it", I shouted over the train's noises. Bill didn't want to, but I quickly convinced him and under we went.
All hell broke loose. First, a maintenance man at the crossing saw us do it, and he called the school. Since we were the only ones taking a train that night, it was easy to name us. Next, the conductor and porter all the way to our home stop raised hell with us, over the danger we took. I got the brunt of their lectures, since I was the oldest. By the time we got to the station, the junior school commandant had called our parents.
The train conductor escorted us to our parents at the gate and told them the whole story. My parents apologized for our conduct and then informed him that the school was going to deal with us. On the ride home, we got more lectures and more lectures. My Dad then made a terrifying statement.
"Colonel Smith and I have discussed your punishments, and we are going to let him deal with you both. Your Mom and I feel that since you did this stupid act wearing their uniform, in their town, they should punish you. I did tell Colonel Smith how I would handle it, and he didn't disagree." He looked back over this shoulder and glared at both of us in the back seat.
That weekend was miserable. My parents were nice enough all right, but you could tell they really were mad. A number of references were made to my stupidity. The train trip back on Sunday afternoon was worse. When we got off the train, Colonel Smith himself was waiting for us.
On the drive back to the school, he let us know that we were in for the worst punishment spankings he had ever given as a commandant. We were both going to be paddled, and the whole academy would know about it. Then he made the most frightening statement of all.
"Sgt. Parker, Cpl. Parker; your Dad and I are in total agreement on how I am going to do it and long I am going to do it", he growled as he looked at both of us in the rearview mirror.
We couldn't get inside the barracks fast enough. We had about 20 minutes before Sunday dinner and everybody in the barracks saw fit to tell us off. It seems as though the school had made a new rule after our stunt, informing the entire cadet student body that leaving the train station would no longer be permitted on any trips, unless accompanied by a faculty officer. Everyone let us know what they thought of us and our stunt.
At dinner that night it was even worse, because the upper school cadet officers made it by our table and let us know what they thought of our conduct. The chapel services that night couldn't get over soon enough. We felt like everyone in the school was visually beating the crap out us as they sung a hymn. At end of chapel service, Colonel Smith stood up and publicly ordered us to his office after the service.
"Sgt. Jason Parker and Cpl. Bill Parker will report to my office immediately after service, dressed only in your underpants". There was a small amount of applause and laughter at his remarks.
We both ran to our separate rooms, with some of our classmates chasing us, yelling their own ideas to what was obviously going to happen to us. Bill and I both made it to Colonel Smith's office before he did. We were both standing at attention, facing the walls by his office door, our white cotton covered butts on display. He unlocked his door, went into his office and prepared for our spankings, in full view of all the cadets passing by to their rooms. Taking his time, everyone saw us at attention outside. He finally ordered us to enter his office. We quickly did, assuming a stance of attention in front of his desk.
"As I said several hours ago, you are both going to be paddled. Sgt. Parker you will be paddled last, because yours is going to be much worse than your brother's. Your parents and I feel that Cpl. Parker would not have attempted such a stupid stunt, if it weren't for your actions. His paddling will be short and to the point. Yours will be long. He will return immediately to his room. You will stand at attention outside my office for one hour, underpants at your knees. Gentlemen do you have anything to say for your actions and yourselves?" I asked for permission to speak.
Over the next couple of minutes I tried to explain my actions. His only response to my speech was to come from behind his desk and put a chair in the middle of the floor, behind us and sit down. He waited until I was done and then he said.
"If that's the best you can do, you really do need the paddling I am going to give you now. About face!" We both spun around and saw that he had positioned the chair so that anyone walking by could see us getting paddled. He already had in his hand the dreaded paddle that I had seen him use on the uniform trouser seat of other cadets. It was thicker, wider, darker and shorter than the paddle our Dad used on us.
"Cpl. Parker, assume a position over my lap. The same you do with your Dad." Bill took several steps and did exactly as ordered. As he went over Colonel Smith's lap, he gave me the worst look he ever gave me, and then bent his head. By that point, there was an audience outside the door.
"Cpl. Parker, you are 12 years old. You will receive 12 swats on the seat of your underpants. If you stay in position, that will be your punishment. You will then return to your room and prepare for bed".
He then raised the paddle up and gave Bill as hard a swat as our Dad would ever give. The big difference was the terrible sound the bigger paddle made as it covered Bill's angled buns. It was a louder and heavier sound than our Dad's paddle. Bill reacted to it with a loud "OOWW!" It took less that a minute for Bill to get his, but he was screaming and squirming through out his paddling.
"Get up Cpl. Parker and return to your room." Bill did so, walking out the door in a most unmilitary posture, frantically rubbing the seat of his briefs.
As I watched him leave, I realized I was going to get one of the worst....if not the worst paddling of my 13 year old life.
"Sgt. Parker, you will assume the same position, but first let me tell you first what I am going to do. I will spank you 14 times on your underpants. Then I will pull down your underpants and give you 50 more. If you do not stay in position, four of your classmates have been ordered to assist me in your spanking....and they will hold you in position. Do you have anything to add, Sgt. Parker?"
"No, sir!"
"Then bend over Mister." I did as he ordered. He took his time, first motioning to four of my classmates to sit on the couch about 3ft away from my jackknifed body; then he positioned my buns for the best possible spanking target.
"You will count out each of the first 13 swats Mister. If you do not keep count, that swat will be given again. Do we understand each other Mister?"
"Yes, sir."
Crack! I yelled "One, sir"....and couldn't believe how much more his paddle hurt than my Dad's.
Crack! "Two, sir"....and I twisted my butt in reaction to the pain.
Crack! "Three, sir"....and I started to cry.
Crack! "Four, sir"....and I was crying and kicking my legs.
By the time he got through with the first 13, I was in the worst butt pain of my life. I couldn't believe how much more his paddle hurt!
"Sgt. Parker, it is obvious that you will not be able to lay here and take 50 swats on the bare. Therefore your classmates will assist me." He quickly pulled down my underpants to my knees. One of my classmates pulled them completely off. Then they grabbed an ankle apiece. The other two, each grabbed a wrist. Colonel Smith then warned all four off them to hold tight. If I got off his lap, they would feel the same on their underwear. Boy did they grip hard!
Crack! I screamed and begged. Then for the next couple of minutes I put on a terrific display. Each swat increased my crying's volume and body squirming. My classmates held tight, and then it was over.
"Stand up Sgt. Parker and pull your underpants up to your knees." With the terrible pain in my butt, that was not an easy task.
"Assume a position of attention outside my door, Mister!" I moved as quickly as I could, with my briefs hugging my knees. I pressed my knees together and assumed a position of attention outside his door. For the next hour, all of my classmates either laughed and giggled or stood in horror at the sight of my well paddled, multi-colored butt.
My classmates never let me forget the scene I made that night....particularly the guys that held me down. The rest of the school didn't let me forget it either, each time we went to the train station.
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This story is true, just certain names have been modified. I travel in my own business, and have the freedom to safely satisfy the spanking needs of interested readers.
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