StepbrothersWhen I was ten my mom married a man who had two sons by a previous marriage. One of them was my age and the other a year older. My stepbrothers didn't live with us, but we spent a lot of time together, including vacations. This was in Texas in the '70s, so spanking was still pretty much the default punishment for most parents and my step-dad was no exception. He was real old school and whenever me or my one of my stepbrothers got into trouble he used the belt on us. Most of the time he would take the offending kid into one of the bedrooms so that the other two could hear the punishment being administered but not see it. None of us was too stoic, so we all got an earful. Lots of crying and pleading, even when we were in our teens. My step-dad's usual method was to make us lower our jeans and underwear and then lie face down on the bed. Hearing one of my stepbrothers get a whipping was always real dramatic and frightening. My heart would be pounding a mile a minute while it was happening. I didn't much like either of my step-brothers, but I didn't dislike them enough to want them the get whipped. But I have to admit that it was sort of exciting too. My step-dad whipped hard, so you couldn't blame the kid on the receiving end for putting on quite a performance.
But if I got into trouble with my stepbrothers, then I got to see the others get whipped, but at the price of getting a whipping myself. That happened several times over the years, the last time when I was 14, so my oldest stepbrother would have been 15.. I was basically a quiet kid who was desperate to do anything to avoid a whipping, but my stepbrothers were both hell raisers who were always getting into trouble and I often found myself caught in the middle, with terrible consequences for my rear end. For example on vacation I would be in the back seat with the two of them who were always punching and provoking each other. I would try to keep out of it, but somehow it always seemed to end up that all three of us were roughhousing, which meant that when we arrived at our motel, my mother would beat a quick retreat to the restaurant while my stepd-dad whipped all three of our butts in our room. Once again, this was Texas in the '70s, so the sound of kids getting spanked in motel rooms was not at all uncommon. Whipping three teenaged boys, one right after the other, must have been exhausting for my step-dad, but he always did a good job, making sure we all ended up with sore red butts and tear stained faces. To put it mildly, it was real intense. Watching my step-dad tear up the butt of one of my stepbrothers, knowing that I was going to be next was terrifying. And taking a whipping while the other two were watching me twist and squirm to avoid the belt, while crying and pleading for mercy, was about the most humiliating thing that ever happened to me.
My stepbrothers are now both married with kids and I know for a fact that my oldest stepbrother is just as strict a father as my step-dad was. Several times I have heard him refer to spankings he administered to his sons, and I can't help remembering the times I saw him get his own bottom blistered while he cried and squirmed. Looking back, I smile when I think about it, but it was hell at the time.