When I was nine and my brother six, we were caught stealing sweets from our local store. The shopkeeper knew our mother well and told her that this was not the first time he had caught us and he would report us to the police if it happened again.
Mother was furious and dragged us home, with threats of ‘a bloody good hiding’ ringing in our ears. We were used to being punished but this time, mum was really angry.
She sent us straight to our bedroom when we got home and told us to wait for her to calm down a bit. After about 15 minutes, she came into our room carrying her leather-soled slipper and told us both to remove our lower clothing.
We obeyed straight away and soon my brother was over Mother’s knee, having his small chubby bottom spanked first by hand and then her slipper. She carried on until his buttocks were red raw and he was sobbing.
Mother let my brother up and stood him in the corner, then immediately pulled me over her knee and my own thrashing started. How long I was over her knee and how many spanks I got, I do not know – but my backside felt like it was on fire.
When Mother decided I had been spanked enough, I was stood next to my brother, with both our sore bottoms on show and both of us sobbing. We were sent to bed and I slept face down that night, with my sore bottom uncovered.
The spanking worked, as we never stole from that shop again.