JUSTICE?

(A True Story by JLB)

I LOATHE my cousin, Toby. He was always doing bad and hateful things but never seemed to get into any real trouble. Uncle Sam and Aunt Debra didn't believe in “spanking.” I heard them say that spanking doesn't allow the child to learn from their mistakes. So, Toby got away with everything. He never had really been punished for anything and certainly had never been spanked.

Dad sort of believes the same as Uncle Sam. My mother doesn't share their beliefs about spanking. She had spanked me MANY times, bare bottom and sometimes with a hairbrush. ACK! However, Dad had only spanked me once for lying. Well, I wouldn't really call it a spanking. It was three medium swats on the back of my jeans. It didn't hurt or leave any marks (I checked). Actually, the fact I had made Dad so angry hurt me even more than his mild spanks.

Toby also gets everything he wants. This year he turned ten and Uncle Sam bought him a bb gun. When Toby showed it to me, I knew nothing good would come of him having it.

You see, Toby is MEAN! He teases the animals on the farm. He chases the cats and throws rocks at the horses and cows, just to make them run. Once, he even grabbed the electric fence and the family dog, just to shock her and to see what happened. He knew he wouldn't get shocked. So, Toby with a gun was bad news.

One day, while Uncle Sam and Dad were trying to fix the engine on the tractor, I decided to go to the pasture to see the horses. I liked watching the horses and a foal was born the past spring.

As I was walking, I heard a pitiful squeal which made me stop in my tracks. I looked towards the field and heard the squeal again. I started running to the pasture and saw Toby with his bb gun. He was pointing it at the foal and shooting it. Each time the foal was hit, it squealed and jumped away. Toby would then wait a few seconds and then fire again. I felt hot rage welling up inside me. I looked around for Uncle Sam or Dad or any other adult but I saw no one. Even though I was only eight, I decided that I was going to teach Toby a lesson.

“Hey, Toby,” I called. “Can I try your bb gun?”

“Uh-uh! No! It's mine and you can't have it,” Toby sneered.

“Oh, come on. Just once?”

“Well, just one shot. Then you have to give it back because it's my gun!”

“Whatever,” I mumbled.

When Toby handed me the gun, my first thought was to bash it against the fence post. Boy, would that have made him mad. But then I thought about the foal and my anger fired up even more. I came up with a new plan.

“Is this thing ready to shoot?”

“Oh, yeah. I've got to pump it up.” Toby took the gun and pumped it several times. Then he handed it back to me. “Just one shot,” he said again.

I looked at the gun for a minute, holding it loosely at my side, thinking, very carefully.

“Oh, come on Shoot already!” Toby said. “I don't have all day!” I brought the gun up and pointed it straight at Toby.

“Hey! Don't point that thing at me!” Toby shouted. I didn't say anything but I didn't lower it either.

“Don't point that thing at me!” Toby said again, and began to back up. Soon the fence blocked his way. “Quit it, Massie! QUIT IT!” Toby's voice was sounding more fearful.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said, without lowering the weapon. “Does it hurt when you get hit by a bb from this thing?”

“Yeah, it hurts. Give it back.”

“Are you scared?”

“GIVE IT BACK!” Toby's voice was now extremely desperate.

I said evenly, “I'm going to show you what it feels like to be shot by this thing, you ol' meany!”

“NO! DON'T! DAD!” Toby screamed.

“I'm going to count to three”, sounding like my mother. “One... two... ”

“MACEDON!” A booming voice made me jump clear out of my skin. I whirled around and saw Uncle Sam was running to us.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” Uncle Sam demanded, yanking the gun from my hands.

”DAD!” Toby screamed. “HE WAS GOING TO SHOOT ME! ”

All of a sudden, Uncle Sam threw the gun on the ground and grabbed me by my arm. Then he delivered ten or more very hard whacks to my rear end. My shorts did little to protect me. I let out a loud yelp of pain.

Then Uncle Sam spun me back around towards him and yelled, “THAT WAS A VERY, VERY DANGEROUS THING YOU DID! YOU GET INTO THE HOUSE! RIGHT NOW!”

I didn't move. I was so shocked. I had just been spanked by Uncle Sam. AND in front of Toby! “NOW!!!!!” Uncle Sam shouted.

I made my feet move and within a few steps, I was sprinting up the hill towards the house. I ran upstairs to our guest bedroom. Uncle Sam had just spanked me. UNCLE SAM HAD JUST SPANKED ME! I couldn't believe it. I went over to the mirror to look at the damage (I did this every time I got spanked). I saw several large handprints on my backside but nothing really serious. My mother had made my bottom much redder many times before.

I pulled my shorts up, went over to the window and looked down. I saw Uncle Sam, Dad, and Toby talking. A wave of fear went through me. What was Dad going to do? Surely, I wasn't going to get spanked again. I had just been spanked. HARD! As I looked down, Toby slowly looked up at me and smiled a most EVIL smile. I didn't know what to think. Dad turned abruptly and headed toward the house. I could hear him coming up the stairs. I sat on the bed, waiting. What was he going to do? Then he was in the room. When I looked at his face, I saw something I had never seen before. His face was stern and his eyes were glaring with such intensity that I shuddered and looked down at the floor.

“I want to know why,” he said through gritted teeth. ”You know better. YOU KNOW BETTER!”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Tears started to run down my cheeks. I wanted to tell him what Toby had done, but I simply mumbled the classic child response, “I don't know.”

Dad turned and went into the bathroom. I didn't move, still sitting on the bed. He was gone for what seemed like an eternity. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Then he came out of the bathroom and my eyes widened and I gasped with horror. Dad was pulling up his sleeves! I knew what was coming. DAD WAS GOING TO SPANK ME! I WAS GOING TO GET SPANKED AGAIN!

He said slowly, “What you did was inexcusable! And stupid. And Dangerous.” I've taught you better than that. You never, EVER point a gun at anyone!. Now, you are going to be punished. I am going to spank you.

Now, I made my voice work. I pleaded, “NO, DAD! DON'T! Uncle Sam already spanked me. HARD! And in front of Toby!”

“I don't care what Uncle Sam did,” Dad said sternly. “ I am going to spank you now.”

“Dad, Dad, PLEASE!” I really began to cry harder now. “I won't do it again! I PROMISE! I'm SORRY!” My tears were flowing like Niagara Falls. ”PLEASE don't spank me! I'm so sorry!“

Dad pulled out a desk chair and sat down. “Come here.”

I didn't move. I couldn't. “Dad, please. I'm so, so, so sorry! I won't do it again. I SWEAR! I'm sorry! I'm Sorry! I'M SORRY!”

“Don't make me come get you. COME HERE! NOW!”

I still didn't move. Then Dad suddenly got up, crossed the room at lighting speed, grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the chair. I was sobbing, begging, pleading.

Dad sat back down in that awful chair and in one swift motion, pulled my shorts and underwear down to my ankles. My cries intensified as he unceremoniously tossed me over his lap. For some reason, I wondered if he could see the handprints Uncle Sam had left on my bottom.

Dad repeated, “Massie, you NEVER, EVER point a gun at another human being. EVER!” And with that he let his hand fall!

I let out a horrific scream. My mother had never spanked this hard on the first strike, not even with the hairbrush. I began to push away from him but his strong grip held me fast. The next blow came and was even harder than the first! His hand rose and fell again, and again, and again, and again! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! I wiggled and bounced, and writhed, and twisted, and kicked but Dad was strong, in more ways than one.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! I screamed and screamed as his hand found its mark. Fire was exploding in my bottom.

The spanks kept coming, on and on and on. I lost count after about 20. And still Dad kept going. Each time his hand struck, I hollered. I was sure the whole house was aware of what was happening up here in the guest room. My mother had never spanked me this hard or for this long before. This was the worst spanking I had ever or would ever receive. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

When I thought I couldn't take any more, Dad stopped. He pulled me to my feet and gripped my arms. Then he shook me saying, “Don't you ever point a gun at anyone again. Do you hear me?!?! NEVER!”

“Ye-es, sssss-ir,” I managed to sputter through my sobs.

“Don't you dare come out of this room tonight!” Dad got up and walked out of the room without turning around. As he left slamming the door, I saw Toby take off down the hallway.

I flung myself on the bed and sobbed into a pillow. After a long while, I got up and went back to the mirror. Uncle Sam's handprints had been replaced by a huge crimson splotch that covered my entire bottom.

I don't think my bottom has ever been that red or that sore. I looked around for my shorts and underwear. In the frenzy, they had been kicked across the room. I went over, picked them up and, very gently, put them back on. I then went back over and lay down on the bed (on my stomach, mind you). I felt very sorry for myself and a terrible, unrelenting hatred towards Toby.

About an hour later, Dad came back into the room. His face was softer this time. He came over and sat on the bed beside me. Then he began gently rubbing my back. I started to cry again.

Dad whispered, “Mass, I need you to tell me what happened and why you did what you did.”

Now, I found the voice to tell him everything. I told him how Toby was always being mean to the animals and that he was shooting the foal with the bb gun. I told him that I just wanted Toby to know what it felt like to be hit by a bb.

Dad listened quietly. When I finished Dad said, “What you did was wrong. Guns are dangerous. You know better than to point them at people. Why didn't you come and tell me or Uncle Sam or Aunt Debra? We would have taken care of it.”

I shrugged and buried in the pillow again. I couldn't tell him that I didn't think they would have done anything to Toby. That I had wanted Toby to suffer like the foal did. Now I was the one suffering. Dad leaned down and whispered, “I think I need to go have a word or two with Uncle Sam. I love you, Mass.”

Dad gave my back another rub and got up. I watched him walk out of the room and then went over to the window. In a few minutes, I saw Dad and Uncle Sam talking. Then they went out to the pasture and looked over the foal, pointing and talking. Then they came back towards the house. Toby ran to meet them, still carrying his bb gun. Uncle Sam snatched the gun out of Toby's hands. I couldn't hear very well what was said through the window but I could tell Uncle Sam was yelling, pointing, and shaking his finger at Toby. Dad stood by and watched. Then I heard, very clearly, Uncle Sam Shout, “GO TO YOUR ROOM! NOW!”

Toby ran. I heard him pounding up the stairs and then I heard his bedroom door slam. I turned back toward the window. Dad and Uncle Sam were coming into the house. Uncle Sam was taking off his belt!