His name’s Mud

Where I grew up, spanking was a part of everyday life. It was not that we were abused or anything – it was just that when a kid got in trouble, he or she just expected that some swats to the bottom would not be neglected. This was certainly true at school as well as at home.

I was 15 when this story took place. I had been looking after a seven-year-old boy most afternoons to earn some pocket money. Danny was usually a good kid and he seldom gave me trouble. His mother was divorced and generally kept him in line with pants-down bottom warmings.

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