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My Brothers and Me
1: Don't Run From Mom

by Csd3819

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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: 06 May 2005

Don't Run From Mom

"WHAT do you three think you are doing?" Mom yelled.

Huh?? We had Mom's huge jar of buttons spilled out on the floor. We had made a track with the buttons and were racing our matchbox cars around them. My brothers and I looked up at her innocently.

"Put all those buttons BACK the jar and put your cars away. I told you I just cleaned in here and I don't want all your toys in the family room again! If you want to play with your cars, do it in one of your rooms or in the basement," Mom yelled and walked away. "I swear, if you boys do one more thing today, all three of you are going to get your butts beat!"

We shrugged at each other and put a few of the buttons in the jar, while continuing to have a demolition match with our cars.

"I'm bored, lets go outside," Nick finally said.

We got up, leaving most of the buttons and our cars on the floor.

"Tag! You're it!" Nick yelled as he smacked Sammy upside the head and ran outside. I quickly followed him.

"No fair! I'm gonna get you Nicky!" Sammy yelled and ran after both of us.

We had a good game of tag going on. All over the back yard and into the woods. It had rained the day before and we got pretty muddy, but mud to a nine, eight and seven year old boy is nothing.

I was chasing Sam. For a seven year old, he was pretty quick, but I could still outrun both of my brothers. I gave him a big head start and then tore off after him. Nick was running with Sam. They ran on the patio and into the house from the kitchen door. I got there a few seconds after them and chased them to the basement. I cornered Sam on sofa down there.

"Now I got you!" I said and tackled him.

We wrestled for a few more minutes when heard Mom yell down the stairs, "BOYS, GET YOUR ASSES UP HERE NOW!"

"What did we do?" Nick asked.

"Who know, but Mom sounds mad," I answered him as we trudged up the stairs.

Sam was the first one up the stairs and Mom grabbed his arm and pulled her towards him. With her other arm, she grabbed Nick.

She pulled them into the kitchen. "What is this?" Mom demanded.

"What's what?" Nick asked.

Mom let go of Sam and shook her finger at Nick. "Don't be a smartass, Nicholas!"

"I'm not. Really, I didn't mean to!" Nick defended.

"What is THIS?" Mom repeated and pointed to the open kitchen door.

"Oh...oops, I'm sorry, I was the last one in the house. I chased them in there and forgot to shut it I guess," I answered.

"Yeah, well, you better learn to shut it because I'm not going to air condition the whole world," Mom told me.

"Sorry," I answered. Air condition the whole world. Is that even possible?

"And, what about this?" Mom pointed to the mud.

Huh. Didn't see that before. Looking around there was mud all over the kitchen floor, and on the carpets heading to the basement.

"Do you see this? You tracked mud all over the place! I am not your maid! You know better then to be tracking mud all over the house!" Mom scolded.

"Sorry, Mommy," all three of us said.

"I told you, if you did anything wrong, you were going to get a spanking, so now you are getting a spanking!" Mom announced.

"No!" all three of us practically yelled/begged.

"No, please!" we begged her not to do this. We were wasting our breath.

"Christopher, come here!" Mom ordered.

"Uh-huh," I said and shook my head. I was just out of her arms reach so she couldn't grab me.

"Christopher! NOW!" Mom yelled.

Shaking my head, "No, no, Mommy please...." I said as I backed up.

"Christopher Stephen! You come here right now!" Mom started towards me. She shoved Nick out of her way to get to me. I could see she was pissed off. Big time.

I did the only thing that came to my head. I ran.

"CHRISTOPHER!!!" Mom screeched at me. "When I get my hands on you, little man, you are going to be one sorry little boy!"

Mom stopped and turned towards Nick and Sam. She took a step towards them and they both ran too.


Mom's voice was getting really screechy. She sounded more like she was whining then yelling. I was pretty stupid, I should have been scared, but I wasn't.

I ran into the family room. Mom chased me. I ran past her and over the chair into the open area by the kitchen. I was enjoying this game of chase. I could still outrun Nick and Sam, so having someone faster them me try to catch me was fun. Mom followed me, going around the chair, not over it, but I darted into the dining room. I ran around the table, and then under it to escape.
Sam started for the stairs, but Mom blocked his way and he scooted over the chair into the
family room.

For the next minute or so, Mom tried to catch at least one of us. She was getting angrier and angrier. While we weren't as quick as Mom, we were smaller and could duck under something or leap over things faster then she could.

Mom almost had me in the kitchen, but I zipped into the dining room and went behind the table again. Nick was by the foyer and ran into the dining room as I made it behind the table. He stopped short when he saw Mom and did a 180 and beat feet back to the foyer. I started
laughing when he did that.

Mom was hot on his heels and I thought she was going to catch him when I suddenly felt myself stumbling backwards and my facing feeling very hot. I felt Mom's hand grab my arm. With my mouth open, I put the hand on my free arm on my face.

"Owwwww...." I cried. My face stung and it felt very hot. For the first time in my life, I was slapped in the face. I looked up at my mother. She was really, really angry at me.

"Don't you ever laugh at me again, young man!" Mom yelled at me. She shook my arm as she scolded me. "Don't you ever run away from me again!" She pulled out a chair and sat down on it. She pulled me in front of her.

"You slapped me," I accused.

"Yes, sir, I did. Didn't like that much, did you?" She asked.

"No, it ...hurts," I said. I was still shocked I had been slapped.

"Not as much as your butt is going to hurt," Mom told me. She was pulling down my pants as she was telling me this. I stood there and allowed her. Once she had my butt bare, I was pulled over her lap and she started spanking me.


"Owww....Mommyyyyyyyyyy....." I started crying almost immediately.

I could hear her scolding me, but I was crying too hard to understand what she was saying. I was too busy begging her to stop.

"Oowwww!!! I'll beee goooooddddd" I cried.


Mom continued to spank me; I continued to cry.

Finally after what felt like hours, Mom stopped. She stood me up in front of her, pulled up my pants and put her hands on my face making me look at her. I continued to cry and tried to shake my head away from her. Mom wouldn't allow me to not look at her.

"Look at me! Christopher," Mom ordered.

I looked at her through teary eyes.

"Don't you ever run away from me again! When I tell you to come to me, you better listen. Have I made myself clear?"

I shook my head and said, "Yes, Mom."

"Go stand in the corner," Mom ordered, pointing to a corner in the kitchen.

I nodded and shuffled my way there, rubbing my poor spanked rear the whole time. I glanced over my shoulder and Nick and Sam were standing in the dining room.

I put my head in the corner and started to cry again. From behind me I heard, "Nicholas, come here."

"No, Mommy....please...... please don't spank me....." Nick whined. I looked over my shoulder and saw Nick slowly walking towards Mom while he was begging. When Nick got close enough to Mom, she pulled him in front of her, pulled down his pants. She pulled him over her lap and started spanking him. From the first spank, Nick screamed and cried. I put rested my head in the corner again, listening to Mom spank my brother and him crying and begging.

"Nooooo....Mommy!!!! I'll be good! I'll be a good boy!! Pleaseeeeee" Nick cried.


Mom spanked him twenty times. She didn't spank him as long as she spanked me. I just know she spanked me about a million times and she spanked me for hours and hours..... I felt the anger rising up in me. It wasn't fair! She spanked me forever and she only spanked him twenty times.

She sent Nick into another corner and then called Sammy to her. By this time, I was mad and wasn't crying any longer. I took a tiny step back from the corner -- I was mad, but I wasn't stupid. I turned slightly to see her with Sam.

Sammy was crying before Mom called his name. Poor kid, I thought. She didn't have to spank us. She doesn't have to spank him. We didn't do anything wrong. She's just being mean.

Mom had to get up and pull Sam back to the chair. She pulled his pants down too and pulled him over her lap.


Poor Sammy screamed bloody murder. He cried and cried and cried. I looked at his butt; it was a nice shade of pink.

Pink? Pink??!!! Wait a sec..... She spanked Sammy only ten times. Nick twenty. I wish I had looked back at Nick's butt. Sammy's is only pink. I'm sure I have permanent scars on my butt from this spanking. It's probably black and blue. And bloody.

This is so not fair. All three of us did the same thing, but I got spanked more. I was getting madder and madder. Mom sent Sam into a corner and she walked into the kitchen. Before she walked in, I stepped back into my assigned corner. I could hear Nick sniffling and Sammy was still crying.

I don't know what they are crying about, they got off easy. I am the one that was spanked a zillion times. Those cry-babies.

We stood in the corner until Sam stopped crying. Mom called us to her in the family room.
Slowly we made our way towards her.

Mom didn't look angry any more, but she looked at me and I know she could see that I was angry at her.

"Christopher, you better wipe that look off your face, or you'll be over my knee again," Mom warned.

"Yes, Mom," I answered with as much attitude as I dared.

Mom started to lecture us again on how we were old enough to realize we were tracking mud in the house, and how we were old enough to pick up our toys when we were done playing with them. She also said she took the toys we left in the family room away we'll get them back when she feels we can put our toys away.

I was livid. First she spanks me more then my brothers and then she takes away MY toys.

"Alright Christopher, what's your problem?" Mom asked me directly.

"It's not fair!" I announced.

"What's not fair?" Mom asked.

"YOU! You slapped me in the face and then you spanked me about a gazillion time! You only spanked Nick twenty times and Sammy ten."

"You were spanked twenty-five times," Mom told me.

"No way, you spanked me a lot more then that!" I accused.

I felt Nick nudge me with his elbow. "What?" I asked him.

"Chris, I counted twenty five times," he told me quietly.

"No way, it was more then that!"

Nick shook his head.

"Ok, fine, but you still spanked me more, that's not fair! You always spank me more. You're mean! You hate me! And…and….I hate you too! You're mean!!!!!"

"Chris," Mom started, "You got spanked more because you are the oldest. You should have known better. And, if you don't knock this shit off right now, you are going to find yourself getting another twenty-five. Do I make myself clear?"

My eyes got wide. Another spanking?? On top of that one? Yeah, that got my attention. "Yes, Mom," I answered, still with attitude.

Right then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to look, and it was Dad. Where did he come from?

"What did you just say to your mother?" Dad asked me.

"Ummm...uh...nothing," I stammered. Anger quickly melting away and fear taking it's place.

"Did you just tell your mother she was mean and that she hates you?" Dad asked.


"And that you hate her?"


"Christopher," Dad said sharply.

"Yes, Dad," I answered, barely audible.

"Boy, I got half a mind to take a brush to you, right now," Dad told me.

"No, please, I'm sorry. Please no…. Please…. I didn't mean it....Daddy, please," I begged.

Dad grabbed my arm, slightly bent me over and

WHUMP "Boy, what did" WHUMP "I tell" WHUMP "you about" WHUMP "begging?" "If you want" WHUMP "to not be" WHUMP "treated like a" WHUMP "little boy, you better" WHUMP "stop acting like one!" WHUMP "Do you" WHUMP "hear me?"

"Yessir! Yessir!" I cried.

Still holding my arm, Dad looked at Mom. "So, what did MY sons do?"

I stood there with new tears in my eyes as Mom told him. When she was finished, Dad turned me again and


"Oooowwwwwww!!!!" I cried. My butt felt like you could fry a burger on it.

"Don't you ever run from your other again!" He bellowed at me. "When your mother calls you, you better say "yes, mom" and high-tail towards her. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"Nicholas, Samuel?"

"Yes, sir," they both answered.

Dad let go of my arm and he grabbed Nick and

"Owwww.....ohhhh...ohhh....owooooowwwww Dadd.....oooowwwww...."

Dad released him. Stepping towards Sammy, he did the same with him.


"Dadddddddyyyyy...nooo...ppppllllleeeeesssssss....ooooowwwww!" Sammy

When Dad finished, he looked at Mom.

"Dad, Sammy just begged, why did you bust him more?" I asked boldly. "That's not fair. You just spanked me for begging --"

"Christopher, your brother is only seven. I expect him to act like a little boy. You are nine. You are the one telling me you are not a little boy any more. Little boys beg; big boys don't. When they do, they get their butts spanked. If you are old enough to do the crime, you are old enough to take the punishment like a man. And, little man, big boys don't whine, tattle and complain." At this point, Dad regrabbed my arm and started spanking me again.


I think he was lecturing me while spanking me, but I couldn't hear it. My butt felt like it was getting spanked off. That's twice my big mouth got my butt spanked. I have to remember to keep my temper and mouth in check.

I was crying my eyes out. I hated to cry in front of my little brothers, but there was no stopping.

When Dad was finished, he said "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," I answered automatically. I have no clue what he said, but I figured that was the correct response.

We were sent up to our rooms. I never ran from my mom again, and I learned to keep my big mouth shut. Well, I learned to keep it shut most of the time.

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