The humiliation of threats

Unlike most of your correspondents here, I don’t think I ever received a smacked bottom throughout my entire childhood – certainly not the formal, knickers down and over mother’s knee kind anyway.

That’s not to say my parents didn’t believe in it. I am the middle child, with a brother either side of me, and both the boys got their arses tanned fairly frequently, mostly by our dad, who would take the boy in question up to his room and belt him, pants down. On a couple of occasions these punishments were administered in front of the whole family, so I saw for myself how much it could hurt and how red it left your backside.

I must admit to being fascinated by witnessing these incidents and some of my earliest experiences of playing with myself revolved around me replaying those punishments in my head while I masturbated.

Maybe our parents thought only boys needed spanking, but that’s not to say I was never threatened with it – it just never happened to me.

However, Mum didn’t think twice about threatening to spank me, especially if I played her up while we were out somewhere. On several occasions, I was asked the mortifying (and mystifying) question: “Do you want a smacked bottom, Stephanie?” I mean, what’s the correct reply to that! Or: “If you don’t start behaving yourself, I’ll take your knickers down right here and tan your arse in front of everyone.”

Needless to say, these threats always had the desired effect. I was really quite a modest girl, and the mention of my bare bottom (and what might happen to it) in front of complete strangers was just awful. I would blush to my boots if Mum made a threat like that, though to be fair my brothers did too!

Having said that, spankings were quite a rare event in our house and I think that 99% of the time, Mum had no intention whatsoever of following through on her threats – they were just made to humiliate us and take us down a peg, something which all kids need from time to time of course.

However, those threats have stayed with me right into adulthood and I now regularly see a female disciplinarian, who has finally introduced me to what a real maternal spanking feels like.

I must say, I have a love-hate relationship with my fetish – it hurts like buggery when you’re being smacked, but I love the warm, buzzy feeling in my pants afterwards, with the material sticking to my big girl’s botty, and when I get home from being disciplined, I always indulge in a long and luxurious wank.

Contributor: Stephanie

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