Kim, Kelly, and Me

When I was that young, they didn’t have kindergarten in most public schools; at least, not in the ones in Bransom, TX. Because of that, I went to pre-school and kindergarten at a private church school. One of my best friends was a girl named Kim, who only lived a few blocks from us. On occasion, one of our parents would pick us all up, or sit for us. Kim had a little brother, who I recall as being a year behind us.

One day, I went home with Kim and Kelly for the afternoon. We’d stopped to get a few groceries. While their mom was carrying the groceries in, and we started playing around. She told us to stay in the yard. We started running around and decided to have a race. After the first race, we decided the yard wasn’t big enough, so we were going to race down to the stop sign and back. Of course, their mom came back out while we were out of the yard. That’s how we found ourselves in the kitchen, standing in front of her, being lectured on how only naughty children don’t mind.

At this point, I was probably still 5 years old, since my birthday comes over halfway through the school year (late March). I’d been spanked by my Mom, David, and at least a couple of my grandparents at this time, but had never thought about someone else spanking me. Since the only other child in my immediate family at this time was under a year, you can imagine that I’d never been spanked with, or in front of, anybody either.

I couldn’t believe my eyes, when their mom pulled Kim over her lap, lifted the back of her skirt, and began to smack those little, white panties. Their mom was apparently pretty practiced at this, and it didn’t take long for Kim to be kicking, squirming, and having a good, loud cry. Mom let her up, but I was in for an even ruder shock. Even as Kim’s skirt dropped back down to cover her panty-clad, glowing red bottom, their mom reached over and undid Kelly’s pants, then pushed them down to his ankles, before doing the same thing to me. My own mom had spanked me before, so I knew better than to fuss or argue. I just stood and watched, feeling a little embarrassed to have my pants down in front of a girl. That didn’t last long though.

I thought I’d been fascinated when I watched Kim’s spanking, but it was nothing to how I felt watching Kelly get his. It wasn’t much different, yet it was. His undies were just like mine, but only a little different from Kim’s. I can’t put my finger on it; but, for some reason, where I was just interested in Kim getting her spanking, watching Kelly get his gave me feelings I’d never had before. I totally forgot to be nervous about my soon-coming turn. My stomach felt so weird, like a kind of delicious ache. It was a feeling I’d never had before, but would have many times again. By the time I was 12, I’d recognize it as pure, rampaging, horniness.

Of course, Kelly’s spanking didn’t last any longer than Kim’s had. Then it was my turn. I have never liked being spanked, and having watched Kim and Kelly’s didn’t change that. Their mom didn’t spank as hard as my David, so I wasn’t howling, but she still did a pretty good job and had me crying pretty good.

When she finally let me back on my feet, Kelly’s pants were still down, and he was rubbing his little bottom. I could see he had his hands down the back of his undies. Kim had the back of her skirt up, so she could rub her own bottom. Hating to be left out, I started to rub my own bottom, but their mom made us pull up our pants, keeping me and Kelly from rubbing as effectively.

I don’t remember seeing Kim or Kelly after kindergarten, and I know we were never spanked together again. It never even occurred to me to try to get Kelly to show me his bottom, even though he and I bedded down together for an afternoon nap. Still, that time has always stayed with me as the first time I ever saw someone else spanked, and the time when I started to learn about my real interest in life.