Waiting your turn for a spanking

WAITING YOUR TURN FOR A SPANKING

It was awful waiting for a spanking or belting; knowing full well that your turn was coming shortly! I much preferred to go first since at least you would get it over with. Though when you were over Mom's knee as she applied the Hairbrush; or lying across the bed or the back of the sofa as Dad wielded the Belt you would rather be anywhere else in the World then there at the moment in time!! LOL But having to watch a spanking or belting was almost a punishment in itself - when you were going to receive one yourself anyway! In particular, watching or hearing my Sisters, Cousins and Female Friends, get spanked and/or whupped was an ambivalent experience! Whilst, especially as I got older, I found it erotic and sexually thrilling; these feelings were always tempered by the fact that very shortly my own butt would be getting the VERY SAME TREATMENT!!!!

On the vocal scale it would have to be a toss up between my sister Sarah and I as to who 'sang' the loudest when we were on the receiving end of a spanking! My other sister Ruth and brother Mark always tried to be more stoical when enduring a punishment. They also might possibly have had 'less sensitive skin and nerve endings as well! Be that as it may, all of us were soon 'putting on a show' long before Mom and Dad's spankings were through. Not because they were overly severe or brutal in any way! Simply that Mom's cherry wood hair brush and Dad's hard and heavy hand HURT!!! Even Mom's hand, though not as hard as Dad's, would soon elicit a definite reaction when applied to your bare behind!

I recall hearing my sisters get their spankings and the 'orchestral performances' that accompanied them. When I was due a spanking, however, the 'entertainment element to the event' was always overshadowed by the knowledge that I was next! Talk about ambivalent feelings!

Hearing your siblings, cousins or friends get their spankings before you got yours was A PUNISHMENT IN ITSELF!

Watching others being spanked is always fun and was my first introduction to the sport.

When, a little later in life, I would stand in a queue of ten or so boys in the hallway of the boarding house, waiting for my turn to bend at the foot of the stairs, receive three strokes of the cane and then head up those stairs to the dormitory and my bed with a stinging bottom, it was rather less fun.

Watching and waiting is fertile ground for fiction.

Geoffrey Stirling.

Neither Reader68 nor Geoffrey mention the 'fun' of waiting before, or standing after, in a corner, exposed, hands painfully raised for a never-ending period of time to one's head. Or, oh joy, wall time before and after. However, adding wall time does not resolve waiting and watching into a preference for first or last.
I never had the 'pleasure' of a mixed-gender spanking-fest in a family of all boys. Given my kinky preferences now, I'm sure I would have preferred to go first and get to watch the girls get theirs.
However, since my eyes were blurred with tears after, my better vision before my spanking might have spotted something. LOL.

I remember in grade school, waiting in the hall as a group of us boys got paddled, watching one after another bend over to get his licks knowing my turn would be long before I was ready for it. As I've said in stories, we were all over it and all ears when someone else was taken to the hall for a paddling, not so much when it was your butt on the receiving end of a paddling.

But, that started me on the journey I'm on now, writing spanking fiction, both from the POV of receiving, and of witnessing.

I was always the one receiving - so there was no waiting

@ cwh
I never had to wait either, but you were not too keen on getting home, if you got busted or knew there was a whistle blower out there. The most disturbing part is that 40-50 years ago you didn't care about your chance to get away with it. You even tried if you had a fictional chance of 1 percent.
I was lucky that my father more often only told me off and reminded me "You can do anything, .. (.. as long as you don't get caught.) As if you didn't know. After your first spanking you knew that not getting caught made for a far more comfortable life.
Now we have a law in Germany that forbids Physycal and Psychological tortur. Let's you wonder if you call the police for a spanking if you get punished for the totur inflicted on a second deliquent waiting for a spanking.

Interesting topic, I would call it 'anticipation'. I had two experiences that might add to this story trail. 1st - I had clearly been spotted smoking and my Housemaster told me the Headmaster wanted to see me at morning break the following day. Knowing that a caning was almost a certainty, I had an uncomfortable night. Reporting at 1030 to the Headmasters secretaries office, there was one boy in front of me who was summoned in and after a minute or so there was the clear evidence of a caning taking place - six strokes, each making a resounding sound . I remember looking at the secretary who was simply going about her work as if nothing was taking place. My turn came all too quickly. 2nd - the music master told me to report to him at the end of the day and I had a very uncomfortable six hours knowing that his 'end-of-the-day' canings were special. After locking the door, the instruction to remove everything below the waist followed by a very painful and humiliating six stroke caning given over at least three minutes. The actual punishment was worse than the anticipation. PG

Over the years I have often pondered the scenario of waiting in line for a spanking, one administered by a lovely lady well practiced in her craft. Of course, I would be the only male participant, though all the participants would be adults,. An unlikely scenario that hasn't happened yet.

I did a story along those lines called "Middle Names". It draws off the story of John "Babbacombe" Lee - who was also known as the Man They Couldn't Hang.

Jakexyz, it did happen to me at Kinematics in the early 2000's. We all waited in a line in the hall that ran down the rows of Spanking DVDs on both sides of the store. The punishments were over the knee. We heard the "Crack" of the round wooden paddle and looked at each other in both anticipation and uneasiness at the same time. Afterwards, I checked at my nearby hotel room and my bottom still was a cherry red hue. I remember still feeling my butt as we were seated for a Broadway matinee. However, I had planned to be there that day as part of our vacation.