A smacking at bath time

I grew up primarily grew up in the 1960s,  a little bit in the 1950s and a little bit in the 70s.  Some boys in my village were given casual slaps, some were viciously beaten – but most of us got traditional ‘smacked bottoms’. 

In our own home, my father would give my brothers and I the belt across the seat of our underpants while my mother tended to give the girls the hairbrush. 

I hated the belt and avoided it at all costs, but when my sisters got the hairbrush I listened carefully.  For the most part, the punishment would be given in the privacy of their bedroom,  although Mother would sometimes slap the girls’ legs where she stood if they had behaved particularly egregiously.  

I only ever witnessed one ‘proper smacked bottom’ given to one of my sisters – Jenny [name changed – Ed], who is just over a year older than me.

Because of the closeness in our age, when we were young at least, Jenny and I were sometimes bathed together. We bathed properly three times a week when we were little, and as we got older we were trusted to clean ourselves – and to be ‘in and out’ as quickly as possible. 

For the most part we were good as gold – with the sanctions available to our parents, you can be sure we were a generally well-behaved family! 

However, one night the devil got into Jenny. Once we were in the bath, she kept pinching and kicking me – basically, being the typical annoying older sister! I tried to irritate her back but Jenny had far greater staying power than me. Eventually, she dug her toenails so hard into my inner thigh that I screamed – that was the cue for my mother to come running upstairs.

Mother had heard my howl and pulled me rather roughly out of the bath to establish what was wrong. I think I was even more surprised than her to see a trickle of blood running down my leg from where Jenny’s nail had actually cut me. 

Mother’s face set into a firm line and now Jenny was plucked from the bath too. She was already protesting her innocence but Mother was having none of it. She sat down on the toilet and hauled Jenny across her lap, still dripping. 

Mother didn’t stop to look for the hairbrush but gave Jenny the fastest, most furious smacking I had ever seen. She must have landed two or three smacks on my sister’s wet behind every second for a solid minute. 

I vividly remember staring at my sister’s bare bottom as it flushed pale pink and then very quickly stained red. Her howls were tremendous, and she kept begging Mother to stop. 

Once the deed was done and Jenny’s bottom was a dark,  angry red,  Mother plopped her back into the bath and swept out of the room,  presumably to change her soaked dress, as she hadn’t bothered to dry her daughter before administering the spanking.

As for me, I got far more smackings at school than I did at home, but I’ll tell you about those another time. Thank you for your excellent site.

Contributor: Chip

All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.