It started when I was nine years old. My mom’s job changed and she wasn’t going to be home until 6.00 pm on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. So, after school on those days I went to Mr and Mrs Miller’s house until my mom got home. The Millers lived five houses down from us. They were in their mid-40s and had two older sons who were both away at college at that time. Mrs Miller didn’t work and Mr Miller would get home from work around 5.00 pm. Mrs. Miller was a bit cold and distant and I was a little bit afraid of her. Mr Miller was a bit downtrodden and clearly deferred to his wife.

At some point during the first few weeks going over to the Millers, I got my first hint at what was to come. Apparently, I got a little too fresh for Mrs Miller’s liking and she told me that if it happened again she would have Mr Miller “give me the belt on my bare butt” when he got home. I remember feeling weak-kneed when she told me this. Although my mom occasionally spanked me with her hand, I had a few friends whose dads spanked them with a belt, so I knew what Mrs Miller meant.

The following week it happened. I had forgotten all about the previous week’s threat. Mrs Miller asked me if my homework was finished and I told her that I was. Of course, she pressed me a little bit more and finally I admitted that it was not finished. She sat me down at the dining room table and had me finish up my homework. When I finally finished, Mrs Miller took me into the living room, sat me down and sternly told me that lying was not tolerated in their house. So, as soon as Mr Miller got home from work she was going to have him give me the belt on my bare butt. I was to go to their bedroom, sit on the bed, and think about why I was being punished until Mr Miller got home.

I sat in their bedroom and waited, and all I could think about was the impending punishment. What would it feel like? How bad would it hurt? Would I cry?

After what seemed like a very long time I heard Mr. Miller return home. My heart began beating hard and butterflies appeared in my stomach. I heard footsteps up the stairs and then the bedroom door opened. The Millers entered.

Mrs Miller asked, “Have you been thinking about your punishment?”

I could only nod, yes.

She asked, “And why are you being punished?”

I said, “Because I lied.”

And she said, “And now you are going to find out what happens to little boys who lie in this house. Stand up.”

Somehow, my weak knees got me to my feet. I saw Mr Miller start to unbuckle his belt.

Mrs Miller said, “Pull down your pants.”

I was watching Mr Miller take his belt off. It was a wide brown leather belt. With shaking hands, I started to unbuckle my belt. I unzipped and unsnapped my pants then meekly pushed them down to the top of my thighs. Mr Miller now had the belt doubled up, clutching it in his hand.

Mrs Miller said, “Down below your knees.”

So I pushed my pants down to just below my knees.

Mrs Miller said, “When I say pull your pants down, I mean both your pants and your underwear. Little boys in this house are punished on their bare butts.”

My heart was racing as my shaking hands pushed my underpants down to join my khakis below my knees.

Mrs Miller said, “Now turn around.”

I turned to face the bed. I could feel the cool air on my bottom.

Mrs Miller came up behind me and said, “Now lay over the side of the bed.”

As she said this, she firmly pushed me forward face down over the bed. I was bent over at the waist, my legs dangling over the side, my stomach and face against the bedspread. She then went over to the other side of the bed and sat down. She took my arms so that they were out in front of me, above my head, and then she took firm hold of both my hands.

A few seconds later, Mr Miller started spanking me with the belt. Hard, methodical licks across both bare cheeks. The first couple took me by such surprise I could only gasp. Then the stinging pain started to take hold. I instinctively tried to reach back and protect my backside but couldn’t do so because Mrs Miller had a firm grip on my hands. I wanted to kick my legs but my pants bunched up below my knees made that very difficult. I started crying as the belt continued to strike my bare buttocks. Slow and methodical. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore the spanking stopped.

Mrs Miller asked her husband, “Sufficiently red?”

Mr Miller responded, “His bottom will be stinging for a few hours.”

I was allowed to get up and pull my pants back up. And, indeed, my bottom stung for the next few hours. Later that night in bed all I could do was think about the punishment I had received from the Millers. The sting of the belt was still fresh in my mind. I replayed the whole thing in my head and got butterflies in my stomach. Although it had been painful and I cried, I was now wondering if the Millers would give me the belt again sometime.