No risks

I was never a risk-taking child – my mother made darn sure of that. As a pre-schooler, I walked to the end of my dead end street to look at the lake that was visible from the ‘dead end’ sign. Enjoying the view, I didn’t even hear my mother come up behind me.

She was mad, and grabbed me by the arm. My little feet hardly touched the ground as we walked back to the house. We flew through the front door and down the hall.

Into my bedroom we went. I was stunned, and didn’t say a word. Suddenly, I was across her knee with my little red shorts down. I was a chubby child and my big butt must have made quite a target. Down came her hand.

“I’ll spank one cheek red and then I’ll do the other one” Ow! Again and again and again, her hard hand came down on my bare cheeks. Ouch, ouch, ouch…stop! “You won’t sit down soon,” she said.

Afterwards, I lay on my bed with my red shorts still down around my ankles. My bum throbbed, and even more so when I touched it.

I’ll never forget that day.

Contributor: Jeanne

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