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Date Posted: 15:01:00 10/29/13 Tue
I didn't understand this till I was much older, but one day as my sister finished spanking one of her daughters and was about to deal with her son, she explained to me that she determined when to stop by the sound of the crying. She said that mom had shown her, using my heiney as the example, By then mom's illness had caused her to have either my sister, who was actually a little younger than me, or an aunt who lived close by to do the actual spankings, as her arthritis made it impossible to grip the family clothes brush firmly.
I didn't recall then what I had done or if it was something I had done wrong, but Kathy had called me into the living room and said to remove my pants and shirt for a spanking. I began to balk and ask why, but mom was in the kitchen with some friend having coffee and she called out to me that I'd Damm well" better behave or my sore behind would be worse.
Kathy said that she recalled reaching out to unbuckle my belt and unzip the fly, something she seemed to like to do.
Down they fell to my ankles and she had me step out of them, off came the shirt, and all I had on was a pair of jockey shorts and my socks. By then I was about fifteen and Kathy had done the family spankings for about a year or so, and she had asked mom if she had been spanking me or our younger brother too much as she was afraid of hurting us.
Kathy said that mom told her to listen carefully to the tone of the crying as the long wooden handled clothes brush was being applied to our behinds. They would change and false crying was very different in timbre from genuine bawling.
The watery sobbing that sometimes had started as the drawers came down were often insincere. The first series of crying sounds were also able to be mimicked by a boy who thought he was clever. But eventually at some point he (In this case me) would lose control and the sound would become stronger and deeper. The body would quiver noticeably and the hind cheeks would release from the way they were usually clenched at first and I, or my brother, would let the legs loose as we would no longer care if our "Privates" could be seen by the spanker. Or anyone else, for that matter.
"So" she said,"I decided to pull your panties down slowly and listen to the sounds as I began the spanking ritual."
"Jockeys" I said, correcting her, "They were jockeys." Kathy often teased me about things like that.
"On you they might just as well be panties, you always kept old ones that were two sizes too small and almost threadbare enough that we could see your thingy through them. And you liked them like that, right ?" Smiling with the sly look as she seemed to be about to remind me that she had caught me once or twice trying on some of her favorite undies.
"So I slid your panties down slowly and listened to you trying to not sound like a baby."
I'm not sure if I recalled that exact afternoon, but I do remember the way she did that, pausing at just the right point so that my thingy would pop out and bounce once it was freed of the elastic. It seemed to me that she always took her time making me stand there all exposed for longer than necessary and telling me what mom had told her to tell me about my behavior. Despite my determination to hold on, standing there completely exposed to whoever was in the room or even in the kitchen, especially if it was my cousin Patty, or one of their girlfriends, it was always difficult to not get teary eyed.
Once I was over her lap she would adjust my legs so that my heiney was at the apex between my body hanging on one side and my legs drooping off on the other, even reaching down between the cheeks so my "were against her often bare legs.
That was the point when her soft hands and fingers, probing around between my hind cheeks and stroking my inner thighs created a naughty feeling that competed with the dread of the on coming strokes for control of my body.
Kathy continued, "I was careful to start slowly and increase how hard I spanked you, still listening and after a while there it was, your hind cheeks were suitably reddened, your body had a tremor, you relaxed the partly clenched cheeks and your legs really flailed out wide as you didn't care what I saw, again. And sure enough the sound of your bawling changed and I knew that you were at the right point," laughing.
"I only went a few more smacks on each cheek and then I stopped".
I guess she had just used the same system on her 13 year old daughter but I had watched, unaware of this plan, possibly distracted by her maturing pubescent body although I had noticed her flailing legs spreading out just before that spanking her stopped.
I guess I smiled a bit and Kathy said "That was the afternoon that mom called you into the kitchen after a few minutes of standing near the wall, to show Mrs Wentworth your red behind and she made you stand there explaining why you had failed the History quiz and not admitted it when you had been first asked".
I guess I did remember because Mrs W lived a couple of houses down the street and often came with a group of women to play Canasta with mom. She was a lot older and several times after that she caught me doing something in the open field near her house and gave me a choice,accept a spanking from her or she would explain to my mom what she had seen.
My sister then said that I should sit there and pay attention to how she handled her oldest boy,Roger, as she went through the steps of her family spanking ritual.
They were about as described and sure enough his crying and body did change at some point after which he made almost no attempt to control or hide his bawling aloud.
What struck me then was that all those years when I was spanked in front of everyone I tried so hard to keep that macho control, not crying and not letting anyone see how much it hurt, I could have gotten off a lot easier by just surrendering to the emotions sooner as Mom, or later Kathy, would have stopped sooner.
She capped the thought when she said, "There were times when I felt bad for you, Danny, and worried at how sore I had to make your behind to get you to that point so I could stop. But mom often watched, or listened from her bed room. Do you not recall that many times I came up to your room and applied that menthol ointment to your heiney and thighs after things calmed down. I felt terrible for you.!!!"
That I did remember, as she did come and sit on my bedside and soothe my wounded psyche, applying some cooling salve with her soft hands, even telling me several times not to fight it so much. But I never connected that then with the idea that I'd get fewer spanks.
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