Thirteen was a traumatic age for me. My father had left my mother, younger sister and I, and we pretty much had to go it on our own. Mom worked 2 jobs, waitress during the day, and as a mail sorter at night. She couldn't afford a baby-sitter, so I became a combination big brother/baby sitter for my little 7 year old sister Abby. One thing about having mom gone most of the time is that it gave me time to have my friends over. Of course, nobody wanted anything to do with Abby, so she complained to mom that I was always having boys over, and wouldn't let her have any friends over. I think she hit mom up on a wrong night, because she proceeded to yell at Abby, AND me. I was told I couldn't have any friends over unless mom was home, and Abby was told to stop her tattling. Now, mom had told me once before that I could spank Abby if it was absolutely necessary, that she didn't want to come home exhausted, and punish either one of us, if she didn't have to.
I began to think of a way of "getting even" with the little tattle-tale. I figured that since I couldn't have any friends over, I would just wait for her to do something wrong, and I would blister her little butt! I know that mom has spanked her before, just as she has spanked me. The difference is that I haven't been spanked since I was 12, and Abby hasn't been spanked since Dad left. It never seemed fair to me anyway. I always got it with a wooden paddle which had this little saying on it "For the cute little deer with the bear behind." It had animals painted on it. Man, that thing could sting. Mom always made me step out of my pants and undies, and climb over her left knee. Then, she wold hold my legs with her right knee, thus keeping my butt bend over at a sharp angle, as my hands dangled in front of me. She would then just blast away on my butt. I don't know if she counted her strokes, or just spanked until her arm was sore. I know that I cried after every spanking, and would carry red marks for days afterwards.
Abby, on the other hand, was usually just spanked over the seat of her panties (if she had a dress on), or over her jeans. I can only remember her getting it bare when she was in the tub naked, and splashed water all over.
So, my plan was to get even with her by spanking her little butt whenever she did something "wrong". It would have to be something bad, or mom would see right through me. Now that I had to be alone with her at nights, I would have plenty of time to watch her! Sure enough, about two days later, she spilled grape juice on the couch and when I yelled at her to clean it up, she yelled back, and said that I wasn't her mother. I saw my opportunity, and seized it! Going to mom's closet, I found the paddle hanging on a hook, and brought it back into the living room, where Abby was sitting watching Tela-Tubbies. When she saw the paddle, her eyes bugged out, and I could see her pulling the edge of her skirt down in front. She asked me why I had the paddle, and I told her that mom had said I should spank her if she did something, and her little spilling and yelling tantrum was just too much. I had decided she needed to learn a lesson. (Now, Abby was in a pickle. She too had heard mom tell me I could spank her if I had to, but she also had never thought I would spank her with that paddle.)
I sat on the edge of a padded footstool, and told her to come over so that I could spank her butt good! She started to wail, and just sat there. I told her I was going to count, and if I got to ten, I would come over and spank her there, then sit down and spank her again when she finally came over. She scooted forward on the couch, turned off her tears, and started the bargaining routine that every kid is familiar with. You know the one where you say that you are sorry, and will never do it again etc. I interrupted her by counting. At 5, she stood up, and slowly walked toward me. She grabbed her butt as she walked over. She also kept asking about the paddle, saying mom had never paddled her, and why did I have it out. I told her she would find out soon enough. She finally made it to me, and I set the paddle down, flipped up her skirt, and put my hand into the leg holes of her panties, and pulled them straight down to her ankles. She really started to scream then!
I pulled her over my lap, and raised up her little pleated skirt, and looked at her little butt. She was squeezing her butt cheeks together, and trying to cover them with her hands. I grabbed her hands and held them on her back, with my left hand. I then proceeded to spank her little bottom with my right hand, until it was a pink color. She was crying, but I could tell it was mostly fake crys. I then moved her farther out on my lap, and picked up the paddle and just smacked it down on her little butt.
Three things happened, she screamed so loudly that I thought the neighbors would call the cops, she kicked her legs out so quickly that her panties flew off, and she rearer her butt up in the air just as I was bringing the second smack down.
I guess the laws of physics worked against me, or I really didn't know how much strength there was in my arm, or the combination of her going up in the air, and the paddle coming down worked to put a strain on it, because it snapped at the handle!
Abby screamed like she was being skinned alive, and her little butt turned a bright, bright red. I stood her up, and told her that I was through, and said some lame thing about obeying me, but even at her young age, she knew she had me, and she had me good. She stood up, hands on her butt, not bothering to even pull her skirt down in front, and simply said through some hic-cupping sobs. "Wait 'til I tell mommy what you did to me." I told her to go take a bath, and go to bed, but I also knew that I was a dead kid.
I went in to check on Abby a bit later, and she was laying on her bed, laying on her tummy, with her bare, red bottom sticking up. She said she was waiting on mom. I couldn't help but notice that there were small bruises on her right cheek. I tried to say I was sorry, but she just turned and smiled at me.
Sure enough, mom came home, and as soon as the door opened, and before I could even say anything, Abby started wailing from her bedroom. Mom went to her, and heard the whole story. She spent some time "consoling" Abby, and then came out, with fire in her eyes. I tried to explain what had happened, how it was all her fault, for raising her butt up, but she wouldn't listen. She just picked up the pieces of the paddle, and went to the kitchen drawer. She pulled out a slip of paper, and wroted some things on it. Then she turned to me, and sweetly said that since I enjoyed the paddle so much, she was going to see to it that I got to spend some time with one. She gave me the slip of paper, and told me to go to the Disciplinarium that was two blocks over on Franklin Street.
(Readers, if you have not heard of a Disciplinarium, please refer to the original FutureSpank article for details.)
I knew what a Disciplinarium was, as all of my friends had been to one at one time or another. I tried to beg my way out, but mom was tired and upset. She told me the machines were open all night, and that I had just 30 minutes from the time she signed the punishment slip to get there, or I would get extra. She then turned, and went back into Abby's room.
I held the dreaded slip in my hand. It said "4" in the level of punishment, and she had punched out the code that now allowed parents to choose the means of punishment, rather than having the machine do it for them. I knew that a "4" meant 4 times my age, or (quick math here) 52 strokes! I was just shaking and trembling, but I couldn't let her know how bad I felt, or she would send me there all the time, just like my pal Victor's mom did him.
I slipped out of the apartment, and walked the two blocks to the Disciplinarium, which, according to its sign, was indeed open 24 hours "to serve you". I can think of better ways to be "served" than to have some machine paddle your butt! I swiped my ID card in the card reader, and then fed mom's punishment slip in. I then walked into the room, which was deserted! In seconds, my social security number was running across a board, and it told me to report to "Unit 1". I stepped up to the door, and pulled it open. It was a heavy door, which moved surprisingly easy. As I entered, I could see that there were 4 machines, and in fact, one of the machines was "in operation" and had its door shut. "My" machine had a blinking light on it, and I went to the front of it. There was a sign telling me to remove all clothing below the waist, including any shirts which might fall below the waist. It instructed me to leave my shoes on. It also said that I had two minutes to undress, and enter the machine, and step onto the yellow footpads and grab the yellow straps. Then, the clock started ticking down from 120.
Victor had told me not to mess with the machine. If you were too slow, it would just add more strokes on to your sentence. My hands were shaking, as I undid my belt, and slid my jeans and underpants down to my ankles. I had a hard time getting them off over my shoes, and the clock said 28 when I finally stood up. I realied that my shirt tail hung down in back so I just pulled it over my head, and threw it on the bench. There I stood, naked except for a pair of Nikes, as the door opened to the other machine, and a boy of about 15 came out. He was crying his eyes out, and sporting a raging erection on what appeared to me to be a huge penis. I was just starting to get a patch of blonde hair there, and my balls were getting bigger, but I was ashamed at my little guy when I saw this kid! I spotted the clock on "9", and ran for the machine. I stepped on the yellow foot pads, and grabbed the arm straps.
With a hissing sound, restraints formed around my ankles and wrists. I soon realized that I could not move my hands nor legs. A bench like thing in front of me lifted and bent in half, and finally pushed right against my pubic bone, thus forcing me back, as the arm restraints pulled me forward. I found myself bent over, naked, inside a strange machine. I was scared, but also a little amazed. Just then, a large monitor came to life in front of me. I could see a close up of a butt, and with a quick movement, figured out it was mine! It was weird to see your own butt like that. I could see my bag hanging down, and when I pushed out, I could even see my hole. Then, I wondered who else was watching this little show, and I squeeezed my cheeks together.
Another whirring motion brought me back to reality. I saw the number "52" light up in the corner of the screen, and then heard, rather than felt something wicked smack my butt. I gave an involuntary "ouch" and looked back to see a plastic type of paddle, with a lot of holes in it moving back, as a twin smashed into my butt from the other side. At first, the pain wasn't that big of a deal. Mom's paddle actually hurt more than this, I remember thinking. Then, the paddles hit again, just below the first two marks. They seemed to be timed so that one could be hitting while the other re-armed itself. WHACK, WHACK, pause, WHACK, WHACK, pause it went on. The paddles started at the top of my crack, and were working their way down. I could see the red marks on my butt in the monitor, and realized that these things hurt more than Mom's paddle! By now, they were at the spot where my butt ends and my legs start. They seemed to stop there, and just keep smacking in the same spot. Man it hurt! I felt tears running down my face, and snot running out of my nose, as the paddles just continued to slap away. I looked at the screen, and saw "26" light up, as there was a pause, and another hissing sound. Apparently the paddles were reprogramming themselves for the last half of my spanking!
Another inflatible strap pulled tight over my waist, along with one on each thigh. The machine moved my legs apart, and then the paddles went to work again. They now worked so that they actually went inside my crack area as they worked back down my butt.
I don't recall ever knowing such pain, and terror. If this thing can hurt this much, what else is it capable of doing? I found out at numbers 11 and 10 on the monitor, as the paddles started to hit right on top of my butt hole! Then, they moved down, until I was certain that my now wildly flinging balls would be hit. Apparently the machine is too good to let that happen.
As quickly as it started, it ended. I could see my butt was in terrible shape, with welts from the paddles, and little raised blister like things from the holes. The machine stood me up, turned on the lights, and released me, as the door hissed open. Now, I was the one to walk out into the light, gently touching my butt and sobbing tears which seemed like they would not stop. There was noone else there, as I gingerly got dressed, and left. I swiped my card to show I was done, and the machine, in a metalic voice said "thank you". I remember thinking what a dumb thing that was to say. I walked slowly home, feeling the pain in my butt with every step. I know mom will be happy with the results. I can't wait to tell her that Abby is old enough to go also!