My name is Jennifer and I’m 42 years old. I have two grown-up daughters (20 and 22 at the time of writing) and two grown-up stepdaughters (19 and 21). The last one of my girls just left the house to live on her own.
Fifteen years ago, my best friend died of leukaemia. My husband and I decided to adopt her two daughters, who were then four and six years old. My husband was, and still is, a businessman and travels a lot and is away for 40 weeks in a year, so I practically raised the children alone.
Between the age of three and twelve, I sometimes spanked my children as a form of discipline. I didn’t spank them very often but when it was necessary, I didn’t hesitate.
When my two stepdaughters came into my house, my two daughters were five and seven and were used to spanking. My two stepdaughters had never been spanked but I decided to raise them the same way as my daughters.
At first they were shocked when I started spanking them too. I was far stricter in some ways than their own mother had been. I regularly punished them for things they had been allowed to do when their mother was still alive. For example, I had to give them a lot of scoldings and a few spankings before they realised that they were not allowed to get food or candy from the refrigerator without asking.
My spankings were never severe but always firm enough to give a clear signal to one of my girls that she did something wrong. I always spanked them with my hand, sometimes over my knee, sometimes standing. I usually pulled their pants and panties down and spanked them on their bare bottoms, because I wanted to see what my hand was doing to their skin.
As they approached their teens, they protested against bare bottom spankings so I stopped spanking them when they reached 12. I’m glad I had courage to spank my children because I know they became better persons by it.
I remember the first time I spanked my youngest stepdaughter. It was four months after her mother’s death and things were pretty normal again. The rest of the girls were in school. Gundred was too young (four) to go to school at that time.
It was a sunny, warm day and Gundred and I went shopping. We went into a supermarket and for a few moments, I didn’t pay attention to her.
Suddenly, a supermarket employee came towards me and asked: “Madam, is that girl your daughter?” I looked at Gundred and I saw to my surprise and anger that she was eating a candy bar which she had taken without my permission. I rushed towards her and took the candy from her. I promised the employee that I would pay for the candy, and so I did.
To my shame, I saw many people watching me with disapproval in their eyes. As fast as I could, I grabbed Gundred’s arm and dragged her out of the store.
A few weeks ago, she had done almost the same thing in another store. That time I had given her a scolding but this time I had other plans. We walked through a park and nobody seemed to be there, so I decided to deal with her right away.
I stopped at a place sheltered by some trees and bushes and knelt beside her. I explained to her what I was going to do and why I had to do that. Gundred was never spanked before so she didn’t fully understand what was about to happen – but she soon found out.
I unbuttoned her shorts, unzipped them and pulled them down toward her ankles. I hesistated for a moment but with a quick look around to see if anyone was near, I pulled her panties down too. I stood up and took hold of her arm. I looked around me again but nobody was near, so I focused on Gundred’s bare bottom.
Then I started to spank her, right there standing in the park, on her bare bottom. I gave her only five or six spanks but they were firm and fast and her bottom became pink.
When it was over, Gundred was in tears and started rubbing her bottom. Quickly I pulled up her panties and shorts and dragged her with me again. She soon stopped crying and I talked with her for a while. She promised me to never do it again and together we ate an ice-cream before we went home again.