[carl35]

"An Insider's View" -- Part Three

After what seemed like an eternity, Mom called the family to dinner, and that included me. "Don't forget your brush, Carl," she called. Blushing furiously, I took the spanking brush down from the wall and hung it around my neck by the yarn. Taking a deep breath, I turned and walked to the dining room table, only to feel like the ultimate loser at Musical Chairs.

Every chair was taken but one, The Punishment Chair. This had started life as a normal wooden chair, but had evolved into something of a monstrosity when my dad glued his entire collection of Michelob Ultra bottle caps to the seat. Reluctantly, I placed my bare bottom on this surface, and winced as I felt all those little metal biters sink into my fanny flesh.

"Hey Carl," my brother said, "wanna trade chairs? PSYCH!"

Carrie decided to get into the act. "Nice necklace, cousin. I'd love to borrow it sometime...NOT!" She and Gwen collapsed in giggles.

"Okay, everyone, let's eat." With that, my dad put a temporary end to the fun at my expense. I picked at my food, constantly trying in vain to find a comfortable position on the chair. When dinner was over, I stood up, grateful for the reprieve from those nasty little biters. Bobby and Reid quickly positioned themselves to get a good look at my butt.

"Whoa, check out all those red marks!" Bobby exclaimed.

"Man, getting spanked on that butt's gonna be rough!" Reid observed. They were playing their part well. I was about to ask my mom for permission to go the bathroom when she dropped a bomb.

"Girls, please take Carl to the bathroom."

WHAT?! Would the humiliations never end? This was just too much for a 15-year-old boy to handle, and I had to say something.

"Mom, PLEASE! I can go to the bathroom by my..."

"Quiet, young man," she said sharply. "Your sister and cousin are going to escort you to the bathroom and then back to your corner."

God, I hated when she referred to it as "my" corner! It made it sound like I was the only kid in the family who ever got punished! Carrie and Gwen grabbed one hand each and started walking me slowly toward the bathroom, while my blushing reached new heights.

"His bottom is certainly well marked already, wouldn't you say, Carrie?"

"Yes, dear cousin. I believe he's been properly tenderized for his spanking."

They kept this kind of banter up all the way to the bathroom and continued once I was inside. I found it impossible to go with them talking about me right outside the door, so I sat down, wincing audibly. More laughter from outside the door.

I opened the door to find my two escorts smiling broadly. "Did you wash and dry your hands properly, Carl?" Carrie asked superciliously. She was getting int o this just a little too much, and I found myself hoping she would be sentenced to a Type Two in the near future (yes, my aunt and uncle employed the same discipline program at their house).

Once I was back in "my" corner, Mom turned the vibration up to full power and dropped the control into her apron pocket. I stood and suffered while everyone watched my favorite TV show but me. Time crawled. Too soon, I heard the command,

"Carl Philip Michaels, front and center!"

I gulped and turned around and saw in the center of the family room the armless wooden chair -- a chair that was brought out for one purpose only. Everyone was seated and ready for the "show." Mom sat in the chair and I took my place next to her for a long lecture about the evils of smoking, the importance of showing a good example to the younger kids, etc. Conspicuous in its absence was any mention of the lying; this reminded me that I had to face this misery again tomorrow!

Finally, the lecture was over. "Alright, young man, over my knee."

Miserably, I placed myself in the classic spanking position. Mom employed a technique she'd learned from her own mother: she took her time arranging me so that my hands almost reached the floor and my bottom was high. Then she took my right hand in her left and pinned it behind my back. Finally, she rested her hand on her target. I drew in a breath sharply, painfully aware that all the preliminaries were over. Then she waited. And waited. And waited some more. Talk about building tension! It grew in the room like a living thing, until everyone's nerves were taut. Then I heard,

"Carl, why are you being spanked?"

"Um...be-because I smoked."

"That's right. What else?"

"Because I lied?"

"No, that's being dealt with tomorrow. Lift your head up and look around."

I complied, and felt fresh humiliation wash over me as I saw the eager faces of my siblings and cousins.

"Well?" she asked.

"Because I was a bad example to the other kids."

"That's right. Gwen, Reid, Carrie, Bobby, watch and learn."

She raised her hand up high.


[End of Part Three]

Copyright 2010 Carl Philip Michaels