Just like Nascar and Boxing
By Sir Cum Sizemore

copyright 2007 by Sir Cum Sizemore, all rights reserved 

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains
explicit  depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of  a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such  material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *


I was the eleven year old eldest of three.  My sister was
two years my junior and my youngest sibling, Max, was only
seven years old when our mother died of cancer.  My father
was a hard working man who spent many hours at his office. 
He took Mom's death very hard and spent a lot of time
reminiscing with us about their times together.  It was a
very emotional and trying period for the four of us.

Like Mom, Dad was a very strict disciplinarian.  Before my
mother got sick she could wield a belt on our bare bottoms
as hard as any man.  As I recollect, she was almost so good
at it you'd wish Dad was doing the honors instead.  That
said, there were really only two behaviors that warranted a
whipping—disrespect or defiance toward any authority figure. 
That included them, teachers, any other adult, or
babysitters.  They were fair but strict when it came to
other misbehavior, but if you were in violation of either of
the two greatest commandments, you would be stripped naked,
bent over the arm of the sofa or a chair and soundly whipped
with a two inch wide belt that was kept in plain view on a
rack in the kitchen.  That is, unless you were my sister. 
She usually got scolded and sent to her room for three or
four hours.  Both my mother and father were somewhat old-
fashioned about gender and discipline—boys only learned if
their bodies were hurt and girls did alright with having
their feelings hurt.

Now with Mom gone, my father was at a point where he
couldn't keep an eye on us, keep house and still earn a
living.  He assigned extra chores to each of us, especially
me.  Among my responsibilities were cutting the lawn weekly,
weeding the gardens, washing the kitchen floor (always on my
hands and knees), and keeping the car vacuumed.  It did
cramp my space.  Something had to give and it did.  

Two weeks after the funeral he informed the three of us that
he had contracted a neighbor girl to stay with us and
supervise the chores and keep us in line.  Though she was a
neighborhood favorite she was barely thirteen.  I remember
resenting the fact that such a young girl was more my age
mate than a superior.  Dad didn't agree.  His perspective
was aligned with his old-fashioned gender view.  Girls were
more mature than boys and she was old enough to be in-charge
during his absence.

I remember the day Kathy arrived.  She brought her mother
with her.  I guess the mother had some questions and wanted
to get to know us too.  The discussion was basically an
introduction of the three of us and an outline of what he
felt the responsibilities of the position were.  He and
Kathy's mother chatted about those things and seemed to hit
it off from the get go.  Then a bomb dropped.

"Kathy, we don't let the children talk back, refuse or
ignore what they're told to do, or in any other way show
disrespect.  When Susan does, she's to be sent to her room
and must stay there from three to eight hours and may only
come out to go to the bathroom.  Can you do that?"

Oh, but then it got worse.  After she agreed that she could,
he continued.

"If the boys are disrespectful or disobedient they need to
be whipped.  You just tell them to strip naked, and after
they have, put them over the arm of the couch and let 'em
have it. You should never hear anything but leather on skin. 
Do you feel you can do that?"
She nodded her understanding and he continued, "When you do
this, you need to keep going until their bottoms are deep
red, not pink, but deep red.  They should be crying
uncontrollably and begging for you to stop before you even
consider it. When I get home the stripes you made should
still be clearly visible.  If you do it right the first time
or two, they'll think twice before they try you again."

But then her mother interrupted and for a moment I thought I
was safe.  "If Jack's eleven, he's only a couple of years
her junior, isn't it a little much for him to have to be
naked in front of her?"

"The humiliation of it is part of his well deserved
punishment, should it happen".  That was my Dad, and even my
Mom's reasoning, God rest her soul.  There was no
understanding of male modesty for my brother and me.  We
weren't allowed any.  But, my sister was treated like a
goddess on that account.  "Girls are supposed to be modest."
Anyway back to the predicament.

You could see the gleam in Kathy's eye.  I don't know if it
was the new found authority or the anticipation of the body
shows that were inevitable.  But she was smiling and her
mother was satisfied so far.

"Now, Kathy, if you should have any problem either with
finding your way around, wondering what punishment to use,
or with them not cooperating, you can call me at this number
and I'll help you get your message across.  Susan shouldn't
be a problem and really I don't anticipate a problem from
Max other than testing some limits.  Jack," and he pointed
right at me, "I fully expect to be cooperative, but it
wouldn't surprise me if he doesn't test you because of the
closeness in age."  Then with his finger still pointed at me
he made eye contact and sternly said, "And I wouldn't try
that, because you will regret it."

After all that was solved, she got the expected hours of her
employment and other incidentals like bed times, including
mine, and having to inspect my brother Max after his shower
to make sure he cleaned every where (I'm glad he didn't try
to have the same procedure for me, I wouldn't have been too
cooperative), and making sure my sister helped with the
dishes and I did the lawn. 

We lived very close to a state park and I used to ride my
bike down there often.  I was really a nature buff and that
park was my boyhood paradise.  My friend Eddie and I used to
skinny dip in a secret place well off the trials.  Besides
the unbridled feeling of no clothing at all, we kind of
liked the suspense of the possibility we might get caught by
passing hikers.  At times we'd dare each other to stand
exposed, hands on our heads, facing an opening which could
be seen from the road just to get the rush of the
possibility of being seen by some passing cyclist or
motorist.

On Kathy's second day, I asked if I could go to the park
with Eddie.  Dad had told her it was alright for me to do
so, but to make sure she set the parameters, not me.  She
made a point of telling me to be home by four.  I'd never
had to be home until dinner which wasn't until six as Dad
had to be home before we ate.  (It was the old-fashioned,
"we eat as a family" thing).  I balked.  I tried to reason
that I'd always been allowed to be out until five thirty and
it always worked out well. She was insistent on four.  I can
remember thinking she was just trying to be bossy and prove
she was my superior.  Words, however, are not how boys set
pecking order.  They need to know who is stronger than whom
more than who can out talk the other.  Maybe that's why Mom
and Dad were sold on whipping the boys and not the girls. 
Girls used words and boys reacted to physical prowess. 
Anyway I left and met Eddie. I remember telling him about
four o'clock and even he thought it was a bummer.  

We rode our bikes down the paved road in the park and
decided to be semi-naughty and skinny dip in the stream at
our 'private spot'.  We locked our bikes to a tree and
walked the quarter to half mile into the woods, stripped
naked and jumped in.  I remember losing all track of time as
we waded and splashed.  Eddie was up on the shore holding
his shorts up and digging through the pockets.  I remember
him glancing at his watch and hollering, "Jack, if you have
to be home at four we need to go.  It's already three
thirty."

It was then that I hollered back, and I remember, to this
day, my words, "Screw her.  Let's just swim a little longer
and I'll get home by five thirty.  She doesn't run our
family."

Eddie shrugged and came back in the water with an iffy
"Okay".

I got home at about five fifteen.  Kathy had a smirk on her
face as she noticeably looked at the kitchen clock.  Then
the bomb fell.  She asked me when I was supposed to be home. 
I told her "four".  Then she said, "And, what time is it
now?"  And I told her "five fifteen".  She instructed me to
go to the living room and take my clothes off and that she
was going to give me a well deserved reminder of who was in-
charge.  

Shit, I wasn't about to expose myself in front of a girl who
was just over two years my elder.  I remember telling her it
wasn't going to happen and she could do whatever she wanted
about it, but I wasn't going to be naked in front of her. 
She told me if I didn't go that minute she'd call Dad.  Even
though I knew Dad would probably beat my ass until it bled,
I'd rather that than expose my dick and balls to this girl. 
I do remember her picking up the phone and as she started
dialing, I tried to negotiate.  I offered her unbridled
access to my clothed butt by telling her she could whip me
over my clothes.  She'd have no part of it.  I knew she was
anxious not only to whip me but to see my package, and that
wasn't on the table as far as I was concerned.  She finished
dialing and began discussing the matter with my Dad.  Then
she handed me the phone, "He wants to talk to you."

Dad told me to get in the living room and to strip
completely naked and let her do what she had to do.  He told
me that whatever she did was just a warm up for what he had
in mind when he got home.  He also said I'd better be
totally naked when he did get home.  Now, comes a time when
every boy has to admit he's been licked in these battles. 
My penis on display for Kathy was pushed back on the mental
priority list by the words my father had just spouted.  I
was scared and thought it best to comply and not make
matters worse.  I remember Kathy standing there and watching
me strip.  When I got to my underwear, I again tried to
negotiate.  "Can't you just whip me on my underwear?"  I do
remember the point at which she let slip her true
intentions.  She flat told me that that wouldn't do she
wanted to see my boy parts as much as she wanted to whip my
ass.  I slid my underpants down and was at the time fully
erect at the thought of her inspection.  I remember my penis
slapped my pubis right under my navel as it sprang loose
from the elastic.  She told me to put my underpants over on
a chair with the rest of my clothes.  As if that weren't
enough, she then summoned my brother and sister to the
living room to watch.  

That girl was smiling with her new found prowess over my
complete condition.  My little sister just laughed and told
her this was the first time she got to watch.  Mom and Dad
usually sent the others to some other place.  In fact, I
don't think my sister or even Max had seen me naked in
years.  They both were smiling in anticipation of the
spanking.  Funny how other kids love a good ass whipping as
long as it's somebody else's.  It's kind of arousing.

Kathy began her spanking task.  The first hit was pretty
good for a novice I remember the snap it made as it made
contact with my butt.  I also remember it hurt.  The second
was kind of whimpy and glanced off my hip.  Then she got her
rhythm and landed one every ten seconds or so.  I remember
wondering during the first few if she needed that time to
take aim or was just trying to make them more memorable for
me.  On the sixth or seventh my butt was warmed up quite
well, on the ninth or tenth it stung badly and was hot, on
the fifteenth I was crying and telling her I'd had enough
and she stopped.  Then true to instruction, she took me to
the kitchen and put me in the corner Mom had dubbed the
"little boy jail".  Unlike Mom she made me put my hands on
my head and face out instead of facing the corner.  I was,
and to this day, am still sure she did that to watch my
genitals.  

I was there until Dad got home.  He was cool, calm and
collected.  He glanced at me and said something like, "I see
he got the message!" and Kathy nodded her smiling agreement. 
When it was time to eat, I started to the living room to
retrieve my clothes.  Dad then told me to eat naked.  He
said I wouldn't need my clothes for awhile.  I knew what
that meant. He was going for his sloppy seconds probably
right after we ate.  But it got worse.

"You know Jack I got to thinking about today.  Your mother
and I always felt boys didn't need to be so modest and we
treated you and Max like you should be proud of your bodies. 
Today, I think being naked in front of Kathy here was a
problem for you.  Am I right?"

I started to expound how she was the same age as I was and…

"I didn't ask you that.  I asked you if the idea of having
to strip naked in front of Kathy was the problem."

Kathy spoke up.  She told him she thought it was.  She
commented on my failed negotiations to have her whip me over
my shorts or even my underwear.  She also told him how
embarrassed I was when she invited Max and Susan to watch.

He responded with a smile and a nod and then the ax fell. 
"Let's get you to where being naked isn't such a big issue. 
Let's get you to where your penis and testicles aren't so
much of a problem for you.  I've decided you will stay naked
all week long.  You will play naked, you will do your chores
naked and you will present yourself to anyone who comes here
naked.  You will be naked if Kathy wants to take you
somewhere and then if she has to spank she won't have to
argue.  How does that sound?"

I remember begging with the promise never to argue with her
again.  But, I also remember the smiles all around the table
at the idea I would be on display for a week.  It wasn't
just Kathy, it was my brother and my sister too.  I sat
there, teared up and pouted for the rest of the meal.  I
couldn't eat.  I just bawled.  Then, it got worse.

My sister asked if she could touch my 'things'.  I couldn't
believe she would be so brash.  I knew Dad wouldn't agree to
that.  But, I was a little mistaken.  He told my sister that
was up to Kathy to decide.  I was to allow whatever she
decided and if I didn't I'd get spanked from both of them.
It was very apparent who the new "alpha dog" was in our
house—Kathy.  She sat there with a grin on her face which
told me she intended to make my boy parts toys for anyone
who was interested in exploring them.  And true to form, it
turned out that was the case.

The next day, Kathy purposely planned to walk with us to my
sacred park.  Not a bike ride, not a run but a walk.  She
was going to take us to play.  I knew she was going to put
me on display to the general public.  I tried the excuse
that I had to cut the lawn, but she said she couldn't allow
me to do that without someone else being home.  It was a
safety issue.  Yeah, right!

I then made mistake two.  I told her I wasn't going to the
park naked.  She just stood there with a gaping mouth as I
ran upstairs and put on a pair of gym shorts.  When I got
downstairs she told me to take them off.  I refused and the
phone got another work out.  This time when Dad spoke to me
he just said I'd earned another spanking and now a month of
nudity.  He also said if I intended to get my clothes back
anytime soon I'd better not push the issue again.  It was
clear he'd make me be naked any time I wasn't in school for
the next year, if I balked again.  I wasn't going to push
the issue.  Off came the shorts.  But before we left she
took me in the living room and whipped me again in front of
the mini audience for defying her.  She also told me the
belt was coming with us to the park, just in-case.  

We walked down the sidewalk slowly.  Kids passing on their
bikes laughed and pointed and many playing in their yards
ran down for a closer look.  I remember all too well the
boner I had nearly all afternoon.  Kathy in her teacher
voice would ask the younger kids if they wanted to "touch
it".  Most did.  Her facial expression reflected her joy at
my humiliation as what seemed like hundreds of four to ten
year old hands manipulated my penis and testicles.  She took
special pleasure in the interest of the little girls.  As I
recall many of them said they'd never touched a boy's
'wiener' before.  Some admittedly had never seen one before. 
It truly was an educational process for many.  

At the park, and I remember this vividly, when we arrived at
the playground, I was going to try and stay seated on the
bench and hopefully close my legs so my genitals were
shielded from view, but no way.  Kathy made me go play on
the monkey bars and the merry go round and she reminded me
she'd be watching that I didn't cover up even for a second. 
Again, my body was the hit of the gathered crowd.  One
mother even took several photographs of me while her two
little cherubs held my dick and/or balls.

That night, I pleaded with my father to lift the naked
thing.  I told him he could whip my butt every night if he
wanted to, but the naked thing was too much.  He then calmly
reminded me I was in for another butt whipping that evening
anyway as I didn't do what I was told, but he also said it
was evident my naked state was far more punishing so he
thought both were still in order.  As with the night before,
after dinner Kathy and the two little ones gathered to watch
big brother get his ass beaten to purple by Dad.  He didn't
disappoint. When he was finished I couldn't talk and there
was snot and tear moisture over the cushion of the couch.
Kathy loved it she just kept that smirk.

"You know Mr. Cummins, I think I need to get as good at it
as you are.  I need to be able to make more of a point." 
She remarked as I was positioned in the corner for my hour.

He just reminded her she wasn't strong enough to swing with
his force, but that she could offset the quality
shortcomings with more quantity.  Actually, if memory serves
me, he said if I had to be whipped she should stop at
nothing less then twenty swats.  She agreed to do that.

For some reason Max hadn't had one spanking and I'd already
had four.  I couldn't understand how he managed to stay out
of trouble.  I was getting deeper in trouble and he was
getting more angelic.  He didn't even balk at Kathy bathing
him every night, and, yes, after his bath he was stiff as a
board.  His little peter stuck out about three inches and
bounced to and fro as he went to the living room to get his
pajamas on.  He did tell me Kathy had a special way to clean
his butt hole and he didn't like it at first, but it was
okay now.  Curious, I asked what.  He said she put soap on
her finger and stuck it in him—all the way in him.  I asked
if he'd told Dad about that.  He said Dad was in there
shaving once when she did it and he didn't say anything, he
just told her to 'make sure he's clean all over'.

Now, Max was a good looking little kid.  Mom loved boy legs
and always bought short shorts for us when the weather got
warm.  The styles were getting longer, like Bermuda length,
but not for us it was athletic short shorts with the wide
open legs. Shoot even when the knee socks were in style, we
couldn't wear anything longer than ankle length. That was
embarrassing enough but she often made Max go without
underpants so his little boyhood was on display to others. 
She even made him go to school like that.  Tell me again
girls and women don't like having their little boys exposed. 
Nobody complained.  When I wore those shorts, always with
underwear after fourth grade, I couldn't help but think if I
was a girl they'd send me home to change.  But I wasn't. 
And no one, not teacher nor principal ever made a remark
about how short my shorts were.  They did stare up my legs
though, even when I did have underwear on.  I watched them
do it.  In fact, Mrs. Emerson in third grade made me sit
with my legs spread apart. That was the last year I had to
go without underpants.  Mrs. Emerson knew and enjoyed the
view.  She told Mom it would toughen me up if she made me
wear those shorts all year round.  So that year many times I
trudged to school in six or seven inches of snow with my
bare legs and lightly covered genitals open to the cold air. 
I don't know why she waited but she didn't stop the winter
thing until shortly before she died. Who knows?

My teachers and the principal used to paddle me when I
misbehaved and they'd take me to a private area, make me
pull my pants down and tear up my bare bottom.  My mother
and father were never ones to complain.  They expected them
to do it.  During my childhood, parents didn't complain when
their kids were spanked at school.  They only complained if
they weren't.  Man, how times have changed.

Anyway, back to my predicament.  As the summer went on,
Kathy used the strap on me every chance she got.  I was
completely nude for two months.   She decided I should stay
that way an extra month and Dad agreed.  She loved bringing
her girl friends over and making me succumb to their
examinations and touching.  She also loved to find some
reason to whip me while they were there.  She loved showing
off her power over me.  

And that, my friends, is the story of one boy learning that
spanking isn't anything when it comes up against
humiliation.  Don't let anyone tell you they are embarrassed
at the sight of nude eleven year old boys, they secretly
love it.  Watching their firm young scrotums and smooth
young dicks and hoping for an erection is akin to going to
NASCAR and watching expectantly for wrecks. Don't let
anyone—especially females of any age—tell you that
witnessing a young boy getting his ass torn up isn't
exciting. It's akin to the thrill watching boxing. 
Thankfully, there's some sadistic part of human nature that
loves both.

  
JLNB_Just_like_Nascar_and_Boxing