It was Sunday evening, and the aunts, neighbors and some of their daughters would be over for tea. They had heard the thwacks of the belt against the lad's bare bottom echoing from the den. The poor shy Henry had even had to count aloud to 10...
The lad folded his arms and stared down at his shuffling feet, hoping to slip past.
Henry.
He had to stop.
Commenters, what did they say?
He swallowed the knot in his throat, before resuming his trudge toward the corner.
He would be facing a body-length mirror.
2 comments:
“Henry, don’t try to slip past like that. Say hello to your Aunties and Mrs Gallagher and Mrs Ironsides. And the girls- who are very keen to see you.”
“Aw Mum...Dad’s been whacking me...got nothing on...gee!”
“Don’t be silly. Nobody’s interested in looking at you. They just want to say ‘Hello.’ Isn’t that right, young ladies?”
There was a murmur.
“He looks like he’s developing well, Gwen,” said old Mrs Ironsides. “He plays a lot of games, I take it?”
“Yes he does, football and swimming. Come on, Henry, turn around and show the females your physique.”
“Aw Mum, I’m too old for that. I’m 18 now...”
“But not too old to be smacked by his Dad,” declared Mrs Gallagher. “And in the old fashioned way, I see.”
“Mum, what’s that mean- ‘the old fashioned way,’” asked his nosey cousin Christine of her mother, his auntie Sylvia.
“Well, in the olden days boys were spanked and paddled more than today. Sometimes on a bare bottom...”
“Always on a bare bottom,” giggled his other aunt. She was his Dad’s sister. “Yes, certainly in our home...but, more often, with all their clothes off. That’s how Henry’s Dad was punished. His sisters loved watching, I can tell you! Bare as an egg, he and his brothers were!”
“Just like Henry now!” declared his cousin, Julie. “Everything off. He’s completely bare.”
There was a reverential silence.
“It must be very embarrassing for him,” said cousin Gillian. “Us seeing his red bottom...and all.”
“No boys don’t mind,” said his mother. “No, girls are allowed their modesty. Boys are different. In fact they love getting around with nothing on, up to their tricks, when they think it’s safe and we’re out of the way!”
Henry stood, shame steaming off him. He knew what was coming.
“So turn around, Henry, and talk to us. Otherwise I might have to tell them some of the things we’re caught you at in recent months.”
“Aw, Mum...”
But there was nothing to it but to swing around.
And face them.
And have the old ladies and the giggling young females see his...well, his everything. On display. His sausage, uncut, hanging from the hair...the tip just emerging from his foreskin (oh hell!)...and his ballbag behind it...
Their eyes were all over him, every inch.
They loved to see him humiliated like this.
“Well, well, well...”hummed Mrs Gallagher.
“Still got some developing ahead of him,”opined Auntie Sylvie.
“What’s that mean, Mummy?” asked cousin Christine.
He could feel himself getting stiff.
He wanted to die.
And he knew his mother would make him stand like that, answering questions about school, and sport and his friends, and whether he had a girlfriend, before he would be allowed to slink off.
And yes, it was- damn it- getting stiff.
"got nothing on" to put it politely. Henry had been punished in his undies a few times, but he hadn't taken his uncle's threats seriously... And of course the women of the household were quite modest, never even venturing into the hall in a robe. How those seconds stretched to hours. He stood there, arms crossed nakedly across his chest, shrugging forward and staring at his toe he was rubbing into the background as if trying to escape...
He knew more were coming over for the tupperware party, and he would have to stand at attention in the corridor.
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