As children, when we were naughty mother would take us across her lap for a spanking using her bare hand. The ritual was always the same, even when both of us had earned spankings together.
We would be led to mother’s bedroom, where she would sit on a blanket chest at the foot of her bed and explain why we were going to be spanked. She would then have us remove our shoes and bare our bottoms. Often, if we hesitated, there would be a flurry of quick spanks on our bare legs.
There was never a fixed sentence – Mother would spank until our cheeks were rosy and then we’d be sent to our rooms for an hour to recover.
When I turned 11, I got the hairbrush for the first time. The ritual was the same except that after removing my shoes and jeans, she took me over her lap without asking me to remove my panties. Then, as I lay there waiting for the spanking, Mother told me that because this was my first experience with the hairbrush, she would apply my age (11) plus 24 more but that if I failed to stay in position, there would be extras and those would be applied on my bare bottom.
Then Mother laid the flat side of the hairbrush down in rapid succession and I felt stinging and smarting sensations so intense that I wriggled free and fell off her lap unto the floor, screaming all the time. Stopping the spanking, she lifted me up, removed my panties and resumed my punishment, counting each stoke up to a dozen as it was applied.
After it was over and I was allowed up, she kissed me while I was picking up my clothes. Running to my room, closing and locking my door, I observed my scarlet cheeks in the mirror, then lay over my bed and cried for a long time.
As I grew older, spankings grew less frequent but the threat was always there. Even during my senior year, I got one sound hairbrush spanking for forgetting to call that I was going to be late coming home.
So now, when my children say they are too old to be spanked, I know differently!