When I was nine, I got invited to a classmate’s birthday party. Debbie was a very popular girl and her parents were well off, so it was quite a large affair, held at their spacious home.
Unfortunately, on the day, Debbie herself seemed very out of sorts. She was acting up, being rude to the other children and generally being a pain in the ass. Finally, she said something rude to her mother which I didn’t catch, but to which her mom replied in a much clearer voice: “Oh, you ungrateful little girl! I’ve had enough of this – you come with me, young lady!”
She grabbed her daughter by the hand and took her upstairs. Only a few of us children had overheard the conversation so the mood of the party wasn’t dampened at all by the birthday girl’s unexpected exit. Most didn’t even notice, to be honest.
It was then that I decided I badly needed a pee. There was a downstairs bathroom which all us children had been asked to use but a girl just beat me to it. She closed the door firmly behind her and I decided to wait – but then I heard her grunt and a distinctive ‘plop’ sound. I realised she might be some time. I presumed there was a bathroom upstairs so went to find it, unable to hold myself much longer.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I heard Debbie’s mom lecturing her. I went past the door of (presumably) Debbie’s parents room, from where the rather one-way conversation was coming. The door was not quite closed, and as I went past, I realised I could spy through the small crack. I looked and my jaw dropped.
At the foot of the double bed was a high stool, and Debbie was draped over it, her panties at mid-thigh and her dress turned up over her back. Debbie was a bit overweight and her bared bottom was broad and womanly. Beside the stool stood her mom, holding an old paddleball paddle, which presumably was kept for the job of warming her daughter’s behind.
No sooner had I begun observing when the lecture stopped, Debbie’s mom placed her free hand squarely on her daughter’s back and brought the paddle down hard with an enormous smack. Debbie screamed at the top of her voice. I watched her receive maybe about half a dozen swats, yelling the house down as they were given, then it occurred to me that the spanking wouldn’t be lasting long, and I better not be anywhere nearby when it did. I snuck downstairs again quietly, and by now the girl before me had vacated the other toilet – though leaving behind her a pretty bad smell, I recall.
I had my pee and rejoined the party and not long afterwards Debbie and her mom returned, the little girl very red-faced but not half as red as her rump presumably was!
I heard her mother say to another mom who was helping run the party: “Well, that’s a birthday she won’t ever forget!” Me neither, as it turned out.