|by The Babysitter|
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: 02 Dec 1996
Andre was eleven; he wouldn't turn twelve until that fall. His father wasn't quite ready to leave him home alone every day for the whole summer, but he also knew that the boy found it embarrassing to be babysat by the teenage girls in the neighborhood.
I was fifteen, a year too young to get a "real" summer job. I'd lived next door to Andre his whole life, and he looked on me as a sort of surrogate elder brother. His father put two and two together and hired me to keep an eye on him.
Most of the time he was no trouble at all. Rarely did I have to pull rank on him.
Those first stages of puberty can wreak havoc on a kid's attitude, and that's part of what happened to Andre. His father caught him engaged in several petty acts of theft. He also began to lie. I was instructed to keep an eye out for these things.
His father wasn't a particularly stern man, but stealing and lying were high up on his list of pet peeves. When my keys were mysteriously missing one day and nowhere to be found, I mentioned it to his father when he came home from work. His father found the keys in Andre's room and promptly gave him a thorough spanking in front of me.
His father made the boy take his pants off and bend over. The kid was still in the beginnings of puberty and was visibly embarrassed about being exposed in front of me. The man took off his belt and let Andre have it. He swung his arm back, and the belt scorched the kid's ass.
Smack! Smack! Smack! He cringed and squirmed, but stayed mostly in position.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Tears rolled down his cheecks, but he never once cried out.
Smack! Smack! Smack! I didn't count, but it must've been a good thirty-five or forty licks he took before dropping to his knees.
His father put the belt down, pulled the boy across his knees, and gave him a good fifteen slaps with his bare hand. Andre's buns were bright red.
I felt a bit awkward watching the whole thing, but after all the kid had stolen my keys and then lied about it. After apologizing the next morning--part of his punishment--Andre never mentioned the incident again. The summer went on.
One day my wallet mysteriously vanished from my back pack that I always carried. Since neither my friends nor Andre's had come over that morning, I had only one suspect. I let his father know about it when he got home, and Andre was sent to his room. I knew what awaited him.
It wasn't until I got home that night that I realized my own grave error. My wallet was sitting right there on my dresser. I'd forgotten to put it in the back pack! Poor Andre had been blamed, and it had been right there at home all along.
The next morning, I clicked the tv off. He began to apologize, but I interrupted.
"Andre, I owe you a huge apology. I went home yesterday and found my wallet on my dresser. I honestly thought I'd packed it, but I must've forgot."
"I told you I didn't take it!" he boomed.
"Yeah, you did. I wouldn't listen. I'm sorry."
"I was right and you were wrong."
"You were right and I was wrong," I stated.
"But you never listen to me. Some friend you are."
"Andre," I said, "I'm listening now. Honestly, did you take my keys that time?"
"No. What the hell would I want your stupid keys for?"
"But they were in your room."
"You were in and out of my room that day. Maybe you left them there just like you left your stupid wallet at home. But Jeez, no one ever believes me."
"Okay. I believe you."
"Lot of good that does me now. You know my Dad gave it to me again later on, after you left."
"Damn, I'm really sorry. I really am. It looks like I owe you a couple of favors, pal."
"You owe me bigtime," he said. "Bigtime."
"Yeah, I do. Tell me how I can make it up to you."
He sat quietly for a few minutes. Then he looked up at me.
"I should give you a spanking."
"I should give you the kind of punishment I got," he said. "Or I could just tell my Dad about this incident."
That got my attention. If his father believed him, I'd certainly be out of a job. I could hardly lie about it after I'd admitted being wrong, and Andre would surely make my summer a living hell if I tried it.
It was the hurt in his eyes that really got to me, though. I'd been the one who'd hurt him. It was up to me to make things better.
"Okay, sport. You're the boss. I'll do whatever you think is neccesary."
"You mean it?"
"If that's what will make things right, I guess."
"You know what to do, then," he said, testing my seriousness. I took my pants and underwear off and waited, head bowed.
He slipped his belt out from around his waist. He paused, perhaps in disbelief that I'd actually obey his commands. Then he shoved me across the arm of the couch. My bare ass waited for his belt.
Since my parents hadn't ever given me anything beyond a quick swat, I didn't know what to expect. The first lick stung.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Yow. I wiggled a bit. He certainly was developing his upper body strength.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Yikes. I breathed deep but held back from groaning.
Smack! Smack! Smack! He laid into me without mercy.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
My eyes soon watered. I was pretty damn embarrassed to be crying from a firm strapping administered by an eleven year-old. But boy did my buns hurt. Smack! Smack! Smack! He gave me about forty, just as he'd been given that time, and then, as I suspected he might, he pulled me across his lap for fifteen slaps with his hand.
Those last fifteen didn't hurt as much as the belt, but they were more humiliating. Being taken across his knee like that made me feel all of five years old. He kept me on his lap for a few minutes, tears in my eyes, sore red ass sticking up. Finally he left me alone to ponder my actions. He'd humbled me, and I let it sink in (how could it not sink in with my pants down and my red bum exposed?). Then he returned.
"This isn't over yet," he informed me. "It's enough for today, but you remember: my Dad punished me on two separate occassions. You still owe me. Got it?"
"I got it."
The next day Andre spent mostly playing Nintendo with his friend Eddie, a lanky twelve year old from down the street. Then they went upstairs, and returned a while later.
"Okay," Andre announced. "Let's play you owe me bigtime, part two."
"What do you want?" I asked.
"What do I want . . . " he taunted. "It seems to me that you owe me another spanking. And since my father gave me one in front of you, it's only fair that I give you one in front of somebody. See how you like it."
That the witness he'd brought was Eddie was no accident; he was as tall as I was, and there was no way I could fight both of them at once. I wasn't getting out of that one.
I stood up, sighed, and dropped my pants. Andre winked at Eddie as he shoved me into position. They both got a kick out of this, and I was more embarrassed than ever. He pulled off his belt and smack! Smack! Smack!
I tried to be as stoic as possible in front of my audience, but my butt couldn't help but squirm as his belt struck. I grasped the arm of the couch tightly and squinted my eyes, determined to hold back the tears. I sniffled and wiggled under forty strokes of his belt. Smack! Smack! Smack!
I stood up, knowing that fifteen hand-delivered blows were waiting.
"Hey Check this out," Eddie said. He pulled the front of his pants down to reveal a lanky dick a good two inches bigger than mine.
"His is way bigger than yours, and he's only twelve," Andre pointed out to complete my humiliation. "Lean across his lap."
Eddie tucked his massive one back into his pants, sat down, and leaned me across his lap. Andre let him give me the fifteen swats. I tucked my blushing face in my arms; I was utterly mortified. I didn't know which hurt more, my ass or my pride.
"Well, now I guess we're even."
"I guess," I mumbled.
"And I bet you'll believe me next time."
"Don't worry, I will."
And that was the end of the incident with Andre. But it was just the beginning of the story with Eddie.