There was really only one time during my boyhood when my parents punished me severely, and it happened one summer when I was 12 years old.
My sister Janet and I were playing outside with some other kids, when I suddenly got it into my head that it would be funny to pull her shorts down in front of everyone. So I crept up behind her, grabbed the waistband of the shorts and yanked them downwards, exposing her knickers.
Janet screamed, quickly pulled her shorts back up and, now very red-faced, ran into the house. She immediately went to our mum, and told her what I had done.
I was still enjoying the joke with my friends when I heard my mother’s voice calling me. “Paul! Come here this minute!” I reluctantly slunk back to the house. “Go up to your room,” Mum ordered, “I’ll be up to deal with you in a minute.”
Five minutes later, she came into my bedroom. “That was a very naughty, wicked thing to do!” she told me, looking me squarely in the eye. “What happened was embarrassing enough for your sister, but you could quite easily have caught her pants as well – then everyone would have seen her bottom and vagina. Have you anything to say for yourself?”
I hadn’t really. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, “it was just a joke.” “Well, young man, you will be sorry – and you’ll find out in a moment that it’s beyond a joke. Come here!”
Mum began to take off my clothes, and I was sure I was going to be whipped on the spot. But once she got me down to my own underpants, she stood up again and said: “Stand still, and don’t you dare move!” She left the room, her wayward son standing there in just his white pants.
About 10 minutes later, I heard footsteps on the stairs and Mum came back into my room – but this time, she was accompanied by my dad (who was ominously holding a leather belt) and Janet. This was the most embarrassing thing of all at my age, my sister seeing me nearly fully undressed.
The embarrassment was made a thousand times worse seconds later, as Mum walked straight up to me and yanked down my underpants, leaving me completely naked. I went to put my hands in front of my privates but was peremptorily ordered to place them on the top of my head instead.
“Well, Paul,” Mum said, “your father and I have had a talk and we both think you need a good sore bottom, so you will get a spanking from him, followed by 10 strokes of the belt. And in front of your sister!”
With those words, she placed a pillow in the centre of my bed and I was told to lie on it in such a manner that it raised up my bare bottom in readiness for my punishment. Mum came to the head of the bed and held my arms down firmly, while Dad began to soundly spank my backside. It seemed to go on for ages, and I was in floods of tears.
Towards the end of the spanking, I began to kick my legs about, as I could no longer bear the pain. Dad stopped and said to my sister: “Janet, hold your brother’s legs down, please, while I belt him.”
I felt my sister’s hands on my calves as she pressed me firmly into the bed – then the searing, overwhelming pain as Dad put the leather smartly across my arse ten times. I could barely hear anyone above my crying by now, but eventually I did hear my mother telling me to get up and go stand in the corner. “And don’t move until I tell you too!” she added menacingly.
Needless to say, I was left with a very sore bottom and it was a long time before my sister let me forget what she had seen and helped with. It was my first and last spanking from my parents but in retrospect, the punishment did fit the crime and I definitely deserved to have my bottom well thrashed that day. I’ve never forgotten it.