Cinders

~42~ Adult

We get home and mom is fuming—She hasn't calmed down even a little bit.

"I promise that if I see even a HINT of a smile on your face, you're gonna get double the spanking. Am I understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

I know she's told me not to call her that, but this just kinda felt like a 'yes ma'am' type of response.

"What's wrong with you?!?! You put it in her lunchbox!!! Honestly, if you would've only done the other two things, I probably would've just lectured you to tears—But you PUT. IT. IN. HER. LUNCHBOX," mom screams, enunciating each word.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to take it that far. It was supposed to be funny."

"I don't care that those two imbeciles were laughing. It. Was. Not. Funny!!!"

"No, ma'am," I say, looking at the ground.

"Do you even understand the severity of this? When are you gonna start realizing that your actions have consequences? One of these days, you're gonna get yourself arrested. I'm not always gonna be able to just lecture you and send you on your way—You need to grow up!"

There's mad, and then there's this—I don't like this.

Mom throws her hands up, exasperated, and goes into her room. I know exactly what she's doing.

"Bend over," she says as she comes back out, pointing to the table.

I sigh but say nothing as I walk over to the table to accept my fate—My dark, twisted fate.

Mom usually waits until she's calm—She isn't calm. I put my elbows on the table, stick out my butt, and stare at my hands...Just waiting to die.

Mom wastes no time as she lets the first smack fall. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. Mom's furious—That hurt.

She doesn't even take a break as she slams the paddle into my backside over and over. The force of its smack flings me forward each time.

"Ah," I groan as it escapes from my lips. I've been trying my hardest not to make any noise this time—I'm almost a man for crying out loud.

I'm starting to feel moisture in my eyes, and I'm ashamed to admit that I'm almost in tears. Mom starts lecturing, every word bringing a hard, blistering smack.

"Pranks. Are. Funny. This. Wasn't. You. Will. Never. Destroy. Someone. Else's. Property. Again. Do. You. Understand. Me.?"

Now normally, mom gives a pause after each whack of the paddle.

There's no pausing.

She smacks hard and fast, and I'm now bawling like a little baby—Actually, I'm giving babies a bad name. I'm sobbing like a wiener.

"Yes Ma'am," I barely get out. Talking is becoming impossible. The burning in my butt is becoming desperate. She's NEVER hit me so many times with the paddle. I don't know how much more I can take before she actually bruises me.

Mom must sense that too, because she puts down her paddle and lifts me by my arm again, pulling me to her. I'm still crying so hard that I can't see her—The tears are too thick.

"I'm gonna do something I haven't done since you were little—You're acting like a child, so I'm gonna treat you like one. Go put your nose in that corner, and don't move until I tell you to."

I just nod, still sobbing my dignity away. I go to the corner in the living room, and stick my face in it.

This blows. This is the most humiliating thing in the world. Your mom spanking you, and then putting you in a time out? Stupid.