“I said no!” my mother yelled as she pulled my little hand out of the enormous plant and gave it a sharp slap.
I was four years old at the time, and I had been jealous of my little two-year-old sister Sara the whole day. It seemed as though she had been getting all of the attention that day. So I was doing the best I could to push my mother’s limits and try to get some of the attention for myself.
Well, continuously shoving my little sister and touching my mother’s valuables (such as sticking my hands in her plants and flinging the dirt around the living room) certainly gained me attention – just not positive attention, as I would soon find out.
Upon my mother slapping my hand, I became quite angry and knocked a vase off the plant table, sending it flying to the carpeted floor. The vase didn’t break but the water and flowers came out right on my mother’s white carpet.
“I have had enough, Stephanie!” Mother walked me to the couch, sat me down, cleaned up the mess and then asked my 12-year-old brother Robert to keep an eye on Sara while she and I went upstairs for a few minutes.
When we reached my bedroom, my mother sat me down on the bed and told me – as she untied my shoes and took off my socks – that behaviour like mine that day was something I knew was not allowed in that house and that I would have to be punished. I fussed as I nodded.
Mother stood me up and gently shook me to hold still as she took down my pants. I was only in my little panties now and I fussed more as she picked me up and placed me over her knee. Mother placed her left hand on my back, right above my bottom, so that I couldn’t squirm around.
“I understand that you might be sorry,” she said, “but you will just have to learn that you will have a proper spanking when you misbehave.”
Smack! The first spank landed on my bottom and I began to sob slightly and tried to squirm around – it hurt! Smack! Mother kept on punishing me. Smack, smack, smack!
After five moderate spanks, she stopped. My bottom was on fire. “Now,” she said, as she put me in a standing position, “you stay here!”
My mother left the room and a moment later returned with the hairbrush she always used to spank Robert –and occasionally me. I had a feeling it would happen today but I cried just at the sight of it.
Mother told me: “I love you dearly, Stephanie, but when you misbehave, you will be spanked. Now, take down your panties! I slowly and gingerly slid them down to my knees and she placed me over her knee again. She placed the hairbrush on my bottom for a second before she raised it to spank me.
Smack! It hurt like hell but I tried to keep still. I squirmed under her firm grip as I lay there and took the punishment I knew I deserved. Smack! The brush hit my tiny bottom. Smack! “This will teach you that you don’t hit or shove your sister (smack!) or touch things after you have been told not to!”
The brush made contact with my bottom one last time and then mother stood me up. She pulled up my panties and helped me back into my pants, then made me stand in the corner until dinner time.
I certainly learned my lesson that day – and didn’t go near mother’s plants for a while after that.