When I was about 12, I used to visit a large family living nearby. There was one daughter about 17, two others Jean and Susan about my age, and Susan’s twin brother Tom. There were also a several younger brothers and sisters – a typical Catholic Irish family. The elder sister, Maeve, usually ignored me when I was at the house, but Tom had warned me not to cross her, or else…
One evening Tom, Susan, Jean and I had been messing around in Tom’s bedroom. We started bouncing on the bed. Unfortunately, while Susan was having her go, she struck a glancing blow to Tom’s ceramic-base bedside lamp – it fell on to the lino-covered floor and smashed into about a dozen pieces.
We tried frantically to collect up the evidence, but Maeve walked in and caught us. She made it clear from the start that she didn’t care which of us had actually broken the lamp. As far as she was concerned, we were collectively responsible and her siblings at least would be disciplined accordingly.
I noticed at once that the other three had gone very nervous and red-faced, trying to sweet-talk their way out of this trouble. But Maeve was having none of it and told them she would deal with them after she had spoken to me. Tom, Susan and Jean were told to wait outside the bathroom.
Maeve closed the door and turned to me. “I would have expected better from you”, she said. “Now – you have a choice. Either I phone your mother and you can explain all this to her, or I will deal with you along with those other three naughty children – which is it to be?”
I was stunned for a moment, not knowing what to expect. I knew my father would have something unpleasant to do if the story went home, so forgetting Tom’s warning I said I would go along with the others. “Very well,” said Maeve “I look forward to teaching you a lesson. Wait with the others.”
Maeve went into her parents’ bedroom and came out carrying one of her father’s slippers. It had a chequer pattern on the upper and a hard rubber sole. We all looked at one another – then Susan was called into the bathroom and the door was shut.
We heard Maeve and Susan speaking but couldn’t hear what was being said. Suddenly there was the sound of a terrific wallop, followed by a yelp from Susan. Tom, Jean and I were horrified. There was a long pause then another terrific wallop and yelp, just as before except that this time after the yelp we could hear Susan begging Maeve to stop. No chance – another wallop.
Susan was now howling, yet Maeve seemed to wait forever before delivering the next wallop and again and again and again. We could hear Susan crying loudly even before she came out red-eyed, clutching something, and ran into her bedroom. “Those were her knickers – she got it on the bare bum!” whispered Tom.
Then he himself was called into the bathroom. The process was repeated in exactly the same fashion; brief instructions (we now knew what these were) then the walloping, slowly, deliberately. Tom came out, carrying his trousers and underpants, very red in the face and even redder across his bottom. He went straight into his room and closed the door, behind which we soon heard crying.
Then Maeve called in Jean. I now knew the procedure and felt sick waiting for my turn, listening to Jean getting it. The embarrassment of even having to take my trousers down for Maeve would have been bad enough, but she was clearly going to make me pay a much higher price with that slipper. Jean came out. Like Susan, she was clutching her knickers, and ran crying to join her sister. All thge juds were still sobbing.
My knees were wobbling as Maeve called me in. She was seated on a straight backed chair, looking slightly red in the face, no doubt from her exertions on the other three children’s behinds. She held the slipper in her right hand and had her feet on a low foot stool. She told me to stand to her right side, which I did, then she told me to take down my pants. I knew I was blushing madly, even before she told me to lower my underpants as well.
Once I had been suitably bared, she ordered me to lie across her lap. I leaned across Maeve’s skirt until my head and arms were hanging down beside her left leg. She told me to move further across, which had the effect of bringing my bare bottom right up in front of her. Then she started to tap my buttocks with the slipper, very lightly, teasingly.
“I want you to lie quite still for this. No leaping around – do you understand?” “Yes,” I whispered. She continued to tap my bottom, as if sizing it up for the walloping to come. “Don’t bother telling me that it hurts. I know it hurts – it’s meant to teach you a lesson. Is that clear?” “Yes, Maeve”. Tap, tap, tap…
I was desperately scared of what was to come yet wanted to get it over, but Maeve seemed quite happy to keep tapping away lightly, no doubt enjoying the delicious position of advantage she had gained over me, and getting a good look at my naked bum and privates.
Then she stopped. There was a moment’s silence and then a huge wallop, followed almost immediately by a terrific sting and burning on my right bum cheek. I yelped and wriggled despite myself. “Stay still,” Maeve ordered. She waited until I had stopped squirming, then wallop! Left cheek this time, same effect – sting and burn combined. Again I yelped and wriggled and again she warned me to lie still. Wallop! Right cheek again, already stinging and on fire, now reinforced.
My eyes were watering. I was wriggling and gasping. I tried to put my hand on my stinging bottom but simply Maeve pushed it away. Wallop! My left cheek caught the fourth blow. I simply could not believe that a girl of 17 could deliver so much pain. Now I knew why the others had come out with tears on their faces – and there was more to come.
Maeve waited patiently until I had settled again to her satisfaction. She tapped my right cheek a couple of times as she had done before she had started then…
Wallop! Again, the amazing extra sting and burn. I wriggled and writhed on her knee then she started to tap my burning left cheek again, warned me to lie still and then struck me again with the slipper. Even after five hard previous strokes, this sixth smack was still a terrific shock.
Maeve told me to stand up, which I did with some difficulty. I clutched my bare bottom with both hands, which gave her a good view of my genitals, but I was hurting so bad behind I really didn’t notice at the time.
Maeve looked at me with amusement running across her face. “Are you sorry you didn’t face the music at home now?” she asked. “Yes,” I mumbled. “Well, I’m not – you needed to be taught a lesson, and I am sure you have.
“You can stay in here as long as you want – the others have been sent to bed without tea, but your mum isn’t expecting you till seven.” I nodded a dumb acknowledgement.
Maeve got up to leave. As she went out the door she looked back at me and smiled. “If I have to deal with that little bottom of yours again, I’ll look out my dad’s cane. The other children will tell you, it’ll make that slippering I just gave you look like a walk in the park. Make sure you behave yourself in this house in future.”
She went out, leaving me to try to squeeze the sting and heat from my bottom. By the time it was time to go home, I had recovered some semblance of composure. My mother remarked that I was very quiet, but seemed happy to drop the point as I busied myself with my homework.
Tom and I compared notes on our shared experience a few days later, “I did warn you,” he said. Susan and Jean never mentioned the topic again.
I tried to avoid Maeve after that, but inevitably we met. She asked if my bottom had recovered. I assured her it had. She grinned: “Ready for more, then, are we…?”