My parents wanted to take a two-week road trip with time divided between relatives, museums and tourist traps. I most definitely did not want to spend so much time with them especially in such close quarters. My wish just to stay home alone was rejected. It was decided that I would visit Uncle Homer and family. My cousins, Ted and Garry, were two and three years younger than I. I could interact with them until I meet some boys my age at the community center.
I knew that my cousins were spanked by their father. Furthermore, I expected that I would imagine myself being their father when they got spanked and enjoy watching their butts turn red. Of course, I would also be empathetic to my fellow youths as well. I did not have long to wait for the first spanking I witnessed was on the second day of my visit for Ted brought home a failing test.
Uncle Homer returned home a half hour before dinner and it was less than five minutes before he was enthusiastically and gleefully spanking Ted. It all took place in the front room. Garry and I had been summoned to watch the execution, er, spanking. Ted insisted that he had studied hard for several days and half the class had done worse but the cold hard fact was that he had failed and thus earned a spanking according to the immutable rules.
Without any delays, Uncle stripped Ted and then pulled him over his lap. It was a very hard spanking for Uncle was a big man who did physical work. I watched fascinated as spank after spank landed and turned my cousin’s tail pink and then flaming red. Surely the pain was intense. Ted was parked in the corner until dinner time. He was required to remain naked through dinner and then sent to his room to study. I gave him high marks for not crying during the ordeal.
Within the week, I had witnessed two more spankings of my cousins. They were always the same – hard and brutal – and my uncle seemed delighted that he could beat his sons savagely. Because of the brutality I discovered that my enjoyment level of the spanking plummeted to next to nothing.© YLeeCoyote
On Saturday, the brothers had a special event to attend. Close friends had moved across town and were having a barbeque for some of their new and old friends. My cousins would take the city bus both ways and were due home at four.
Unfortunately, they returned almost two hours late without calling. Uncle was absolutely furious and even screaming. They tried to explain both failings but they couldn’t get even a word in edgewise over the clamor. They were dragged to the garage where they immediately had to bend over the car trunk with their pants and undies at their ankles for severe strappings.
Even though it was terribly exciting I was horrified by what I saw. Uncle Homer was quite out of control and was determined to severely punish the two brats. Uncle yelled at them for being late (Missing your bus!) and not calling even on the bus riding home (Disrespectful!) and careless (Uncharged phones!) and being terribly irresponsible (generally). The pair was not actually crying but their eyes were very, very wet when they were sent to bed without supper after their brutal ordeal.
I sensed that there was more to the story. I thought maybe it was best not follow them so I went into the garden to text them. There was not any signal although my phone worked proving it was charged. I then checked with my cousins and found that they had been on the bus as they should have been but it had gotten stuck in the tunnel for an hour without any bars. When they finally got moving the bus crept on a detour and they saw a lot of emergency equipment and a fire that surely caused the traffic issues and other problems. Also, there still was not any signal on their phones.
I went and asked Uncle if his phone worked. It did not! I told him that none of ours had signals either and that Ted and Garry had encountered all sort of trouble FAR BEYOND THEIR CONTROL while on schedule the way home.
The cable TV was also messed up but there was some information on every channel simultaneously about an explosion and a fire that knocked out both cell phone service and internet service. The carrier was desperately working on repairs.
It was immediately overwhelmingly clear that my uncle had overreacted without knowing the true facts and beaten his boys harshly and unjustly. I was sure that this was not the first time but probably the first time that there was hard evidence that he had to acknowledge. It was far from clear how to obtain justice and prevent repeat offences. Uncle certainly was not going to get over my lap on his own and there wasn’t anyway I could force him to like he was a boy.
I think that Sherlock would have thought this was surely a three-pipe problem. After a while I recalled something from years before. It happened at home after I had been sent off to bed, however, I could not sleep but could hear Grandpa and Dad arguing loudly downstairs. The one thing that I could recall clearly was “I should put you over my knee like I did when you were a know-it-all brat.” that Gramps yelled at Dad. I imagined that I also heard a spanking but surely that could not have been.
I had a long conversation with Grandpa. He was quite in agreement with me that Homer was way out of line although not as sure of the solution as I was. “I think that Uncle Homer needs a good hard spanking. A spanking like you used to give him and Dad when they were teens. Exactly like the one that you gave Dad a few years ago that I heard after I was sent to bed.” I said to explain.
After he stopped laughing, and commenting on little pitchers having big ears, Grandpa agreed with me.
“You could come over here and do it or make me your proxy to swing the belt while you’re on the phone.” I said simply.
Gramps had the obvious question but I explained that I did have experience spanking a few older men and could handle the job except for overpowering Homer who was still, in many ways, an immature brat.
I was delighted that a few minutes later Gramps called back and said he was going to talk with Homer and that I should standby. I took a minute and gave my cousins a heads up that something might happen but to keep out of sight.
Uncle Homer did not take it well at all. He pretty much lost it within a couple of minutes so that he reminded me of a bull enraged by the picadors’ attacks. It was not a short conversation but eventually Gramps convinced Uncle to submit to a strapping from me as his proxy rather than waiting for him to come over and do it himself. I did not inquire about any details being most satisfied with the result.
I accepted the phone back and got my orders from Gramps to make it all formal and Homer compliant. I managed to say “Yes, Grandfather. I understand that I am your proxy for this strapping.” so that Homer would not be so mad at me.
I accepted the vicious belt when it was offered and watched in awe as Homer dropped his pants and bent over the end of the couch. “Ready?” I asked remembering to be deferential and preferring to let the belt speak for Gramps. It was a great feeling swinging that belt at my very unfair uncle. Grandpa had ordered twenty cuts rather than the ten he would have delivered assuming my cuts would be less effective.
Uncle took the first few silently but I must have been effective because before the end he was showing that they were truly hurting. I managed to make his butt as red and as swollen as he had made Ted and Garry’s just couple of hours earlier.
It was most satisfying as you can imagine. I’m sorry that my two mistreated cousins could not have witnessed it all but I had even given them a heads up and they listened from the top of the stairs. They were grateful for this.