It had started out of boredom. I was a young 8 year-old and really knew better but the game of the day was to see if we could skip a rock underneath a moving car. My best friend Mark and I had been practicing on our quiet street for ages it seemed when a likely car appeared. It was up to me and I had my little stone ready to go. The plan was ridiculous of course. The rock took one bad bounce and flew up into the side of the car with a resounding 'thunk'. To Mark's and more my horror, the car came to a screeching halt and the driver, a man of about my father's age emerged, red faced and obviously furious.

In a flash, he had me firmly by the arm and I was pointing out where I lived. My Mom was the only parent home at the time and seemed horrified at the behaviour of her eldest child. I was banished to my room to await my sentence. It was late afternoon as I remember and I was brought a light sandwich in my room for dinner. The Chalertons would be by after supper and my parents would be discussing my punishment with them. My stunt had scratched the car in question and so I was in serious trouble.

This was new territory for me. Punishments in the past had been quick and simple. My parents would get loud and I was always dressed down for my bad behaviour. I was usually grounded or sometimes put on a chair in the corner but "serious" punishment had never come my way. It was the era of Dr. Spock and young people were to be reasoned with rather than chastised.

I had been in my room from about 4 o'clock until 7 when I heard the arrival of my parent's new guests and pressed my ear to my door to hear what was going on. I couldn't make out words but the tone was low and serious and seemed to go on for ages before I heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs toward my room.

I dashed to my bed and was sitting on it looking contrite (it had often worked in the past) when my Mom came into the room.

She pulled the chair from my desk towards me and sat down facing me.

"You're in serious trouble young man," she said. "We've had a long talk about it downstairs and your father and I have decided that the way we've been disciplining you is simply not working. So, you're going to find out that your actions have consequences and that bad behaviour will get you punished."

I was stunned. I had never heard anything like this conversation and was certainly not expecting it.

"Stand up," my mother said.

Her tone did not invite question and I was suddenly on my feet. My Mom had stood up and pulled out my pajamas from my bureau. Turning towards me she started pulling my t-shirt off over my head. Now, at 8 years old, I was used to dressing myself. I was going into grade 3 in the fall for goodness' sakes so my mom pulling at my clothes had me reach up to resist. A sharp slap on my hands left her in charge without a doubt.

My shorts, running shoes and socks quickly followed, leaving me in only my briefs. My mom pulled my pajama top over my head and then reached down to yank my briefs down to my ankles.

"Step out of them," she said. Her voice was cold, determined.

Dressed now only in my pajama top which didn't quite cover either my bum or my privates, my mother grabbed me by one arm and dragged me from my room.

"Mom!," I cried. I was quite modest for an 8 year old and I was stunned that I hadn't been given my pajama bottoms.

"Not one word, young man," she answered without breaking stride.

Down the stairs we went, me being pulled by my Mom until we were in the sunken living room.

My father was sitting as were the Chalertons and Mark's parents. All eyes were on me. Mom pulled me to a convenient living room corner and placed me with my nose pressed right to the merging walls.

"Hands up," she said.

Not understanding I slowly raised my hands higher, feeling the movement of my pajama top rising up above my very bare, very exposed bottom. My mother reached to the bottom of my pajamas and with a whoosh, they were up, up and off my hands leaving me absolutely, completely naked in a room full of adults. I had never felt so embarrassed in all of my short life and burst into tears.

"There you go Shirley," said Mrs. Chalerton to my Mom. "You can see the embarrassment factor is already having a direct effect. No amount of scolding will get such a quick reaction as putting a naughty child bare into the corner knowing that they'll soon be spanked."

Spanked?! I had never ever been spanked. I choked back my tears in horror. Here I was, completely nude with my bare bottom on display to all these people and now I was to be spanked? My hands crept slowly to my bare bottom.

"Hands by your sides, young man," said my father in a low but very firm voice. It took everything I had to move my hands back to my sides.

Conversation between the adults started up again but the subject was stunning to me. The talk was all about punishments and what each couple had tried and what was successful. Mark's parents had tried spankings I discovered but the rare times they'd tried corporal punishment, it had been a couple of spanks over whatever the kids were wearing at the time. Mark and his older sister had both gotten a sharp spank or two but it hadn't made a lasting impression. Mrs. Chalerton explained that spankings at their home had become much more effective when mixed with a high level of embarrassment.

"The pain from a spanking fades quickly," she explained. "After all, you don't want to injure the child. But the embarrassment of being exposed or being displayed to others or some of the other 'special' punishments we were describing can last for ages. It's the combination that works."

"Well we're certainly ready to try something different," said my father. "His behaviour has been getting worse and worse. How old are your children?"

"Emily is 15 and Jason 12," said Mr. Chalerton. "Caitlin is 8 like your son. They all get spanked and they all spend naked corner time. What they hate more than the spanking itself though are all the embarrassment punishments. Emily in particular hates being on table display and cries as soon as she sees the digital camera. Jason becomes instantly repentant if he knows a rectal punishment is coming."

The sounds of these punishments were like code to me. What did 'rectal' mean and what was a 'table display'?

There was movement behind me. It was my Mom.

"Alright, time to pay the piper, young man," she said as she grabbed my arm and turned me around.

My hands reached down to my crotch in reaction to showing everything to everyone in the room.

"Oh no, you don't get to cover up when you get punished from now on," my Mom declared. "Get those hands clasped up on top of your head."

My face was beet red in embarrassment and tears trickled down my cheeks as I inched my hands up to my head. I could see the faces of the two sitting women looking right at my now fully exposed privates.

With one hand still on my arm, my Mom propelled me into the middle of the room where she had been sitting. A moment later I was bent over her knee, grateful in some way that at least my hairless cock was no longer visible.

"You can expect to get to know this position very well," my Mom said.

It was surreal. I was staring at our living room carpet. Behind me, my bare bum was sticking up as the highest part of my body and everyone behind me had a complete view of what up until now had been a very private place. My Mom's left hand was firmly over the small of my back and her right, rested on my left buttock.

Suddenly the right hand was in motion and a moment later I heard the sharp slap of her hand an instant before the burning sensation of its impact on the left side of my bottom reached my brain. As the tremendous sting finally registered, the hand had already descended again, this time on the right side. It was sharp, burning hot and took my breath away. My Mom was up to her 5th or 6th smack before I could catch enough of my breath to start crying in earnest.

The spanking was fast and furious and seemed to last forever and ever. When my right hand involuntarily reached back to protect myself, it was grasped firmly by my Mom's left who held it at the wrist and left me feeling even more unbalanced. My crying was now non-stop. In reality, the hand spanking couldn't have lasted more than a couple of minutes but it was a sobbing young man who was finally pulled to his feet. All thoughts of modesty had vanished as my hands lunged backward to rub away the tremendous heat in my bum.

Such relief was short-lived as my Mom firmly put my hands back on my head and told me in no uncertain terms to leave them there. I was maneuvered back into the corner to wait with my now bright red bottom on display to the room. When my sobbing finally settled down to a soft cry, I realized that the adults had all been talking about punishment techniques. Surely it was over, I thought but with a pang of fear deep in my belly, I wondered if there was more to come.

A hand grabbed me by the arm again but this time it wasn't my Mom, it was Mark's Mom Mrs. Verro. I'd always liked her. She, like my Mom was young and attractive and had always treated me like her own son. I guess in some way, she was doing that still as she pulled me into the room again and sat me down over her knee. Where my Mom had been wearing slacks, Mrs. Verro was wearing a short skirt and nylons. That put my bare thighs and my crotch right over her bare nyloned legs which felt very strange. To be frank, I wasn't thinking much about it at the time as I was terrified I was now in for another burning hand spanking on an already hot bottom.

If only it had been.

Mrs. Verro reached for something with her right hand and a moment later, I could feel a weird scratchy feeling on my still stinging bottom.

"Do you know what that is?" she asked.

"No," I whimpered.

"It's a hairbrush which you're going to feel on your bottom whenever you're very naughty," she said.

"My reply was a whimpering "Nooooo..."

"Oh yes," she replied. "Now, were you naughty today?"

"Please don't," I whispered.

A blowtorch hot "whap!" came down on my bottom. I cried out.

"That wasn't an answer, young man," she said sharply. The brush was back on it's bristle side brushing on my stinging bottom. "Now, were you naughty today? The correct answer would be 'No Ma'am' or 'Yes Ma'am"."

I paused for a moment. There was no way out.

"Yes Ma'am"

"You see Shirley?" it was Mrs. Chalerton again. "He's not even fully punished and already he's respectful."

My Mom chuckled in a way that made me feel more nervous than comforted, "You're absolutely right Margaret. I can see this has been missing."

"Alright then," said Mrs. Verro, still holding me firmly over her lap. "This is what happens to naughty boys."

The hairbrushing was slower than the hand spanking. Each horrible smack of the brush seemed to take my breath away. After each one, there was a pause to make sure I knew that smack had arrived and then the next would come. I had no idea how long it went on but I know I was sobbing and begging from the beginning. Finally, when I was crying so hard that I couldn't speak the brushing stopped.

Mrs. Verro kept me over her knee for a couple of minutes more, rubbing the bristle side of the brush over my crimson buttocks as my crying died down and I gradually caught my breath. While I was still bent over, the adult's conversation picked up again as they talked about how effective the hairbrush was and how it might compare to a wooden spoon, a belt or a paddle. I half heard the conversation as my crying slowed but something else very strange was happening. With my bum way up in the air and Mrs. Verro's shifting lap, my pre-pubescent cock had been rubbing against her nylons for several minutes and I suddenly realized that when I stood up, I'd suffer the most dreaded of humiliations. Everyone would see my boner!

Sure enough, I had no sooner thought it than I was being pulled to my feet. I tried to bend over and then use my hands to hide it but Mrs. Verro knew what she wanted. A moment later, I was standing back in front of them all with my hands clasped on top of my head. The ladies noticed my little boy's cock hardon instantly. It got a giggle from both Mrs. Verro and Mrs. Chalerton.

"I suppose he liked it," joked Mrs. Verro as she tapped the tip of my boner with the brush. I was mortified.

I thought I'd be put back in the corner but that was wishful thinking. I was left facing the adults, unbelievably embarrassed as the conversation continued. Punishing the boys was most effective when delivered by the mothers Mrs. Chalerton explained. The girls were equally embarrassed by punishment by their fathers. Of course, either parent could deliver a good punishment when required but the effects of the parent of the opposite sex seemed to last longer.

"What about the rectal punishment and the table display?" my Mom asked. I was sure I didn't want to hear either.

"I can show you both if you like," said Mrs. Chalerton. "Come here Robbie," she said to me and I shuffled over to her.

Once again I found myself over a female knee. This one also covered by nylon. At least my boner had gone down but now I was sure I was going to be spanked again and I started to cry even before the first smack arrived.

"Shhhh," said Mrs. Chalerton. "You're not going to get another spanking right now. This is an embarrassment punishment."

"Shirley, let's try the candle and the Vaseline please," she said to my Mom. I didn't know what she was talking about. A candle?

Mrs. Chalteron's right hand was rubbing across my buttocks gently which both made the sting feel a little better but made me feel, if possible, even more vulnerable. Here I was eight years old, having my bare bum rubbed by a complete stranger who I had never seen before a few minutes ago!

My Mom was handing something to Mrs. Chalerton who placed it on the small of my back. A moment later, I felt both her hands spreading my bum wide, wide open and showing her my bottom hole. I gasped and held my breath. What was this?

The touch at the very center of my anus was cold and squishy. What WAS that?! The object pushed at my back hole with some pressure. My anus naturally clenched tight. The pressure released and so did my bottom hole. Then it pushed again, and again I clenched down, resisting. It released again and again I relaxed. The pushing, clenching and releasing happened a third then a fourth time. On the fifth push when the pushing stopped, my anus relaxed, and the object was pushed in hard just as I did. It popped past the sphincter as I let out a little cry. I had been holding my breath the entire time.

"Noooo," I whispered. "Please, take it out."

She didn't, of course. The Vaseline covered candle was now holding my anus open and was being slowly twisted back and forth creating the most bizarre squishy sensations deep in my body. With every twist, it slid a tiny bit deeper until the candle was lodged deep in my bottom. With each tiny movement of the candle, my breath gasped.

Suddenly I was back on my feet as Mrs. Chalerton pulled me up. My hands went behind me but a sharp word and they were back on my head clasped tightly together. My face was deep, deep red, as red as my freshly punished bottom and my treacherous cock had erected into a boner again. My Mom and best friend's Mom giggled at its return to tumescence.

It's the candle. Said Mrs. Chalerton with a grin. They can't help themselves. It's a powerful message. Their bodies are available for you to punish both inside and out and there is no part of them which isn't in your control.

While she spoke, Mrs. Chalerton had kept a firm grasp on the part of the candle poking out from between my beet red buttocks. It was like a handle which she kept moving and twisting in tiny motions as she spoke.

She got up from her chair, still holding firmly onto me by the candle and moved to the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Up on the table Robbie," she said. "On your hands and knees."

She used only the candle to get me to move into the position she desired. My back was to the audience and at her direction my knees were placed wide apart and I rested my head and then my shoulders down on the table. I couldn't imagine a more exposing position. My genitals were completely exposed from behind along with my stuffed bottom hole which everyone could see.

"Alright Robbie," said my punisher. "Reach back with both hands and hold onto your bottom please."

I reached back as instructed. The fight was truly spanked out of me.

"Spread that bottom wide open please," she said. I pulled at my buttocks.

"No, much wider Robbie, open yourself up," said Mrs. Chalerton.

I pulled as hard as I could, spreading my buttocks as wide apart as I could. It was the final indignity as everyone could see everything I had.

"Stay just like that please," said my Mom's newest friend. "That's a proper table display. You can see why the kids will do almost anything to avoid the embarrassment, especially the older ones who are in mid-adolescence. The effect is profound even if they have to do it with only one parent present but if you need a much deeper effect, the presence of an additional audience such as we have here this evening works wonders. Of course, even siblings or other neighborhood children can add to the effect.

"I can imagine for little Robbie here, the presence of our fifteen year old, Emily would have a salutary effect.

I shuddered at the thought. Wasn't this bad enough? Would they really show me off to some strange teenage girl like this? My life as I knew it was shattered.

The adults were getting up now and moving to the front door. I could hear some of the conversation but it seemed they were on their way to Mark's house now and that Mark was also in for a punishment session. My sister was already there waiting with Emily as a babysitter who would bring her home I heard.

My Mom told me she'd join them shortly after she'd seen to me.

The door closed leaving me alone with my Mom. Her footsteps came back into the living room. I felt her hands on the candle deep in my bottom.

"Stand up Robbie," she said.

With my hands back on my head and her hand on my candle/handle, I was guided back upstairs.

She placed me on my bed and told me to get into 'table display' position. I had learned my lesson and was soon back in the knees apart, head down position, with my hands holding my buttocks wide apart.

"Have you learned you lesson Robbie?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am" I replied, thankful I'd remembered how to reply.

"Very well, you'll be on probation for awhile and you can expect more punishments like today when you're naughty."

"Yes Ma'am," I replied again.

"Very well, you'll stay like this for a few minutes. I'm going over to your friend Mark's house who is in for a similar punishment to the one you just received. Your sister Karen is being brought back by Emily Chalerton. She will be removing this candle and tucking you into bed."

"Oh Mom, No!" I cried.

There was a long pause. "Perhaps you need a reminder already?" she said in a low but threatening voice.

Tears were filling my eyes again. Was I really ready for another spanking?

"No Ma'am" I choked out.

"Good then. I'll look forward to a positive report from Emily but you can expect she'll see you punished on a fairly regular basis in the future."

I listened as my Mom's footsteps moved down the stairs and then out the door and then, obediently waited in this exposing position in my own bedroom for the door to open again.

It was only five minutes or so before I hear our front door opening and then footsteps coming up the stairs.

I closed my eyes tight as though I might be able to squeeze the experience away. The footsteps moved toward my sister's room and I could hear a female voice talking with Karen as she got ready for bed. In all it was another five minutes or maybe ten before the footsteps made their way into my bedroom.

"Hmmm, looks like a nasty spanking," she said. "I'm Emily as I suppose you guessed."

"First table display huh?" I nodded my head miserably.

"I know, it makes you feel pretty exposed," she said.

"Is this your first rectal punishment?" she said touching the end of the thick wax candle buried deep in my rectum. She moved the end in tiny circles, which of course translated into big circles deep inside my body.

"Well, you're lucky it was just a candle. There's lots of worse things they can use."

My imagination was overloaded. What could be worse than this?

The movement of the candle was a twisting motion now as she grasped the candle firmly and moved it in and out.

"Hmmm, what do we have here?" she said as her delicate cool fingers reached between my legs to grasp my cock and balls.

I was helplessly erect.

The candle was slid in and out in steadily longer motions until finally it was pulled from me. I was gasping when it was finally gone, feeling strangely empty.

The delicate fingers rubbed tissue down my widely exposed crack, still held open by my hands. With the bulk of the Vaseline gone, I was finally told I could let go and get under the covers.

Emily was gorgeous as I finally saw her. She was wearing a little tank top and tight shorts with bare feet.

"The best thing about punishment is when it's over," she smiled as she reached down to kiss me on the forehead. "Believe me, I know." With that she turned and headed out the door with a swish of those tight shorts and a smooth curved bum.

The image of Emily being up on a table display with her bottom filled with a candle suddenly shot through my mind and my eyes widened at the image. My little cock, still bare under the covers shuddered and I gasped helplessly. It would be another year before my first ejaculation but there was no doubt I'd just cum for the first time.