My mum did all the spanking when we were young, mainly because my father was away on military service. There were five of us kids, so she definitely had her hands full.
Most of the time it was just her hard hand that smacked our bottoms but as we got older, she used her special wooden hairbrush which really blistered us.
The brush was used on our bottoms from about eight years old until around 14. I used to dread the sight of it, even when it was being used on my sisters or brothers. I certainly took no satisfaction when one of my siblings got tanned, as I always remembered just how paintful it felt.
As an ‘Army Brat’, it was very common to see or hear other kids getting spanked, and we certainly compared notes – but the hairbrush was feared the most. From 14 onwards, if we still needed corporal punishment, it was the strap and again a different level of pain altogether.
We lived in Singapore during the 50s and Dad was away most of the time up in Malaya. Mum ruled with the hairbrush and did not hold back when we were naughty – we were always sent to bed with a very sore bottom!
Our amah (maid) would supervise us while Mum was out and if we played her up, she would tell report our misbehaviour upon our parents return and we would get a serious spanking with the brush.
I think the amah enjoyed seeing us getting sore bottom and laughed about our spankings with her colleagues working in the house next door.
One day, our amah caught us children red-handed breaking our 7pm bedtime curfew, making drinks and feasting in the pantry. She offered us a choice – either she would tell ‘Missy and Master’ about our naughtiness when they got home, or she would deal with us there and then.
The servants weren’t actually officially allowed to smack us – but it seemed a better deal to us at the time, as long as she didn’t tell Dad.
The amah took both my brother and I into her room at the back of the house and without explanation or scolding she just took my underpants down, hauled me over her knee and spanked me very hard indeed. There was no ‘warm up’ – just her large, housework-hardened hand applied to my bare bottom. I yelled, cried and pleaded with her but to no avail. All I could see through my tears was the concrete floor of her room.
She let me up after what seemed like forever, pushing me to the floor and grabbing my brother for his bare-bottomed dose. The punishment hurt a great deal but we didn’t complain as we had been caught in a trap of our own making.
The amah spanked us children a number of times after that, until she left our service to return home. My brother and I still laugh about this incident today, as a classic example of ‘be careful what you wish for’!