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Horrible Timing
Part III

by Oates

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 13 Apr 2018

Just like my friend Jimbo, I had a similar horrible timed event in my life. There were actually two. Like Jimbo, I had been offered the opportunity to give up spankings when I turned 13, which I very much appreciated. Mom had always paddled me with one of those paddles with the little girl looking at her red butt painted on it. The norm was for me to bend across the side of my bed, and she’d hit me 5 to 10 times. Whether it was on my pants, underwear, or bare bottom depended on the severity of the sin. So, grounding became the new norm for me, and I worked hard to keep the new form of punishment to a minimum. And, it worked. But, like you would expect, I would usually end up grounded on the weekend of a special event. But, I was too old to be spanked, and I took the groundings or allowance reductions like any respectable teenager should. I suffered through it.

However, at age 17, there was one weekend when I was determined not to miss a party that everyone in my class would be attending. I didn’t even bother to ask if I could move my grounding time to another weekend, I just accepted the horrible timing and proceeded to make plans to find a way to get to this party, at least for a few hours. So, I schemed and plotted, and tried to find an acceptable way to make it happen. Finally, I figured it out. I worked it out where I would go spend the weekend with my grandmother and then slip out after she went to bed. It was the best thing I could come up with that seemed reasonable. So, the plan was made. I had not visited grandmother in a while, so it was ideal.

When the weekend arrived for me to stay with grandmother, I was driven there by my mother. That messed up the plans, but not severely. My friend, Jerry, would come get me at 10pm, about an hour after grandmother went to sleep. I’d go and stay a few hours and return at 2am and no one would know the difference. That was the plan. And, it all worked as planned for the most part.

The party was going well when that horrible timing event took place. Yes, there was drinking, but not by me. I knew better, and, though sometimes a little outside the lines, I tried to lead a moral life and obey the law. It just so happened that my grandmother had awoken to a loud noise about 12:30am. We eventually figured out that a big limb off of a big tree had fallen on her roof, directly above her room. She had come to my room to see if I would check on it and found me missing. Of course, mother was called, other parents were called, and I was easily found where all the kids were. Mother appeared, and I was caught.

The ride back to grandmothers was quiet and uneventful. I went back to bed and grandmother and I got up the next morning and went to church together. While her church was not as exciting as mine, the preacher was very friendly, and was easy to understand. His sermon on obedience to those in authority over us was not horribly timed, but ideal for my situation. I even listened intently and felt convicted by the end of the message. The preacher was so happy to see me, and we talked for a short time before I thanked him for speaking to me personally, and then we left for lunch. Grandmother loves Applebee’s salads, so we went there and had a nice lunch, and mother even joined us. After driving grandmother home, mother and I left for the ride home, which I didn’t look forward to undertaking.

Finally, after a period of silence, mother broached the subject of my actions on Saturday night. I explained the reasoning for wanting to attend, and apologized for taking advantage of grandmother for my plan. While spending time with grandmother is good, I would not have done it that weekend had it not been for the party. But, mom and I agreed that I should spend more time with her, and we came to the conclusion that I should stop by and visit once a week, and perhaps spend the night every other month. If anything good came from the weekend, it was that plan.

The time for discussing the upcoming discipline for my sin finally arrived. Mother said, I guess you know your grounding will need to be extended for about a month after this little escapade, don’t you?I sat in silence and didn’t respond to this painful announcement, though I knew it would be coming. However, I had already given some serious thought to it and had decided that an extended grounding would have a drastic effect on my social life, which was becoming more involved with each new day. So, I finally responded and said, you know, mom, how about we go back to the paddling form of discipline since I’ve been grounded so much and it doesn’t seem to work that well? I know it’s been a while, but, you made the offer when I was 13 to stop it and it was my decision. How about if I revoke that decision? Mom seemed to ponder the idea for a few seconds before responding that she thought I was too old and that a paddling probably wouldn’t hurt at my age. So, we rode in silence a few minutes, and I felt sick at being grounded for over a month. And, I felt almost equally as sick about being paddled again. But, Jimbo was paddled. His Dad paddled him completely naked recently. My friend Garrett was paddled also, by his mom and dad with a paddle that he had to make himself. So, not everyone is too old to be spanked as a teenager, I thought.

As the ride home was coming to the last 10 minutes, I decided to break the silence and offer a suggestion, which was something like, Well, mom, if we went back with the paddling, I think it would be more effective, and I’m just not wanting to spend my junior and senior years at the house. Now, I could be better, yes, and I should, and I will, but you just never know when something is going to happen to get you in trouble. But, I will try not to get in trouble now that I’m older. But, with the paddling, it’s quicker and more painful, and it works well with people like Jimbo and Garrett, they get them. So, it would probably be better for both of us. She smiled and agreed that it would be better on everyone, but I knew she didn’t think it would hurt as bad, so I proceeded to close the deal. Mom, look, you still have that paddle, don’t you? To make sure it hurts, I’ll pull down my pants. You can paddle my actual butt with it, and if you hit 20 to 25 times, that’s going to hurt. And, you’ll be able to see the damage and know when to stop. If it doesn’t work, I’ll get you another paddle like Garrett’s Dad has. He actually made it. Can we agree to that? I hated to offer to bare my butt, but that is what it was going to take. She agreed to try it.

Once we arrived a home, we did a few things around the house and I found the paddle for her. It looked a lot smaller now, but the girl was still there looking at her red butt. Mom and I walked to her room in a rather awkward way, knowing what was about to happen. Without hesitation, I lowered my pants and underpants, leaned across her bed, and she proceeded to hit me as she had done 5 years ago. My butt had not changed much, and her swing had not changed much, but she applied about 20 licks to my bared bottom fairly quickly. It was embarrassing, yes. My butt turning red and jiggling around did not cause any enjoyment, for sure. And, after 20, mom just stopped. I think you need some more, she said. So, I stayed in place and she hit me 10 more times. I really didn’t want to cry, but it stung really bad, and I felt like she wanted me to cry, so I did sniffle some and make a few painful noises. When she stopped, I pulled up my pants without any delay, and then I thanked her and left the room. We had made it through the first paddling of my teenage years, and I was sure that there was more to come. However, I was committed to behave in such a way that that would be the only teenage paddling that I ever got. We shall see.

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