Bared for my birthday

I was so chuffed to see my first story published on Maman, I thought I’d strike while the iron was hot and the memories fresh – so here is what happened next! My mum has a regular line she uses: “You were such a cheeky, funny, handsome, naughty little boy – how did it go so wrong?” Thanks, Mum!

Writing down these memories did get me thinking – I often wonder how many parents (mothers, mostly) enjoy smacking their children for a little bit of fun? Having read all the stories here, I think it’s fair to conclude that at least some mums do enjoy a little harmless spanking fun.

For myself, I certainly get the distinct impression that my mum enjoyed smacking my bottom – I should add, however that although we talk freely about many things, I have never ‘gone there’.

Certainly, I think she must have known that I enjoyed being playfully spanked – it was so obvious really, once the cat was out of the bag, and I never tried to hide it. I can remember on more than a few occasions, Mum threatened to ‘turn me upside down’ if I wasn’t ready for school, or out of bed, or down for dinner. However none of these threats ever amounted to anything other than just that.

There was always a smile or ‘the look’ – of course, we now knew that I was not too big or too old to be put across her knee – she’d proved that point in no uncertain terms! 

As I explained in my previous attempt, as long as it was a bit of fun between us, I encouraged Mum any chance I could to turn me over her knee – I loved it. I pushed the boundaries with being cheeky – Mum threatened accordingly. It was fun – in fact, between the ages of 12 and 15 were my happiest childhood years. The period coincided with several fun spankings, and I felt this period also cemented an extra closeness in our relationship.

And so to my much anticipated 13th birthday – it was a stand-out day. As previously mentioned, I am still quite young (early 20s) and Mum is still a relatively young woman, having only just recently turned 50.

My birthday fell on a Monday that year, but during the school summer holidays. The day before, my parents had arranged a surprise trip to a theme park. Part of the surprise was that Tom and his parents came along – it was a brilliant day out.

On my actual birthday, Mum didn’t need to wake me – I was up early and excited. When I walked into the kitchen, still in my pyjamas, she greeted the birthday boy with a big hug and a soppy kiss. She showed me to my cards and gifts on the table. 

“Would you like me to make you some rock cakes?” she asked. These were my favourite at the time and answered ‘yes please’ as I opened my cards. I wasn’t really paying attention to what Mum was saying after that until she sat down right next to me read out aloud the recipe for the cakes.

Then she made up an instruction about letting the mix sit for exactly 13 minutes. “Oh,” she said. “That’s handy – that’s exactly how long it will take me to give you your birthday spanking!”I laughed, and corrected her. “It’s 13 smacks, not minutes!” She replied sternly: “Not in this house it’s not, young man!” Mum gave me ‘the look’ and began to get the ingredients together.

I opened a gift but my head was elsewhere. Was she really going to spank me for 13 minutes? If you have read my first account, you’ll remember that I came to realise that even a brief, playful spanking from my mother’s hand could sting my bottom a fair bit. That first smacked bum, although it seemed longer, probably lasted only around five minutes. There had been quite a lot of chat in between two, pretend scold etc, certainly not a continuous spanking. Despite some apprehension, I felt that warm fuzzy feeling inside and glowed with excitement – Mum was going to smack my bottom!

After mixing the ingredients, she made a big play of placing a kitchen chair in the middle of the room, where she could see the clock. She looked at it, sat down on the chair and clapped her hands together. “Right,” she said, “time for that smacked bottom!” I once more weakly protested that it should be 13 smacks, not 13 minutes, but she just said: “Right, you naughty boy, over my knee you go!”

Mum took my hand to put me in position – and for the very first time, I had an extra thrill. Even though it was all in fun, Mum wasn’t smiling or laughing – she kept a straight face and mum actually put me across her knee as she might if I was a really naughty boy.

Once I was in place, I heard her say: “You are such a naughty boy, Jay! Birthday or not, 13 is not too old for a good old-fashioned spanking!” I still get a shiver of excitement thinking about those words – if I ever find a girlfriend who is willing to spank me for fun, I will ask her to say that every time!

My erection began to form in my pants – I felt just like a naughty boy. Mum started to scold me as her hand smacked down on my pyjama-covered bottom. They were made of pretty thin material, so there was not a lot between my mother’s hand and my buttocks.

The tingling started after just a few smacks, and I played up accordingly. I complained bitterly, I protested, I threatened to call Childline, or report mum to the police. Of course, she simply laughed out loud at my protests and carried on regardless.

In the end, my birthday spanking lasted just shy of 13 minutes although, as before, there were several breaks for conversation. However, Mum had a bigger surprise for me.

“Right, Jay. I will indeed be giving you 13 smacks – and one to grow on – after all. And just to make sure you learn your lesson, I think these had better be on your bare bottom!”

Well, I didn’t see that one coming. In one surprisingly smooth, easy motion – and before I could even think of protesting – my pyjama trousers were slipped down and my bare bottom was exposed – the first time Mum had seen it for quite a few years. I instinctively reached behind with one hand to protect myself, but Mum grabbed it and held me firmly. She was becoming very skilled in spanking technique! “You, young man, are going nowhere,” she said. “Now, birthday boy, count these smacks for me – nice and loud, mind!”

So here I was, my bottom already very warm from a 13-minute spanking on the seat of my pyjamas, and my mother was about to go to work on my bare buttocks. I had wondered what a spanking on the bare bum would feel like – very unpleasant, I imagined – yet here I was, about to receive that treatment and yet looking forward to the experience.

Smack! “One!” I jumped and yelped. Bloody hell, that stung but I was still laughing – and so was Mum. “Betcha felt that one, birthday boy!” she said. The second smack landed and boy, did it sting. Mum could really smack hard, but we both still laughed out loud like idiots as I groaned and flopped around on her knee.

The fire in my bottom was well and truly stoked as she took her time with the rest of the spanking, spacing the smacks out evenly. She made a big thing of giving me an ‘extra hard’ one to grow on. In truth, it was no harder than the previous 13 – but they were all plenty hard enough.

Finally, she released me and drew me in for a cuddle. We howled with laughter – I couldn’t believe my bum could sting that much and yet I was having so much fun. Perhaps fortunately, I did notice that the hard smacks had got rid of my burgeoning erection.

She released me from her embrace and added: “That’ll make sure you remember your 13th birthday, won’t it?” And yes, I remember it as clearly as the day it happened.

Mum and I have laughed about that day many times over the years since. I do wonder if she had planned the bare bottom element or whether it was a spur of the moment decision.

I pulled up my pyjama bottoms and stood rubbing my well smacked behind, Mum looked very smug – she had the biggest smile on her face as I sat back down, gingerly, at the table with my cards and gifts as she finished off the rock cakes before they went into the oven. 

What a morning, and what a birthday spanking! The rock cakes weren’t bad either. But more fun was to come.

A bit later on, Tom arrived with his mum. She had driven him over with an ulterior motive – to give yours truly that birthday spanking I had asked for all those months ago. I presume that at some stage, Mum had given her the green light to smack me.

Tom’s mum gave me a card and a gift, wished me happy birthday and then began scratching her head. “I’m sure there was something else to do… Oh yes, I remember – I’ve got to give you a birthday spanking, haven’t I?” Mum chipped in: “You have my full permission to give Jay a soundly smacked bottom.”

Oh heck! Another smacking on top of the one Mum had already given me earlier. Tom’s mum made a meal of it. “Have you got a comfortable chair I can use, Mum, as this might take a while? As I said previously, I do think some mums must enjoy this sort of thing more than they might admit to!

Tom laughed and my mum was laughing at my predicament, knowing full well how sensitive my behind must already be from our earlier encounter. Then, I heard Tom’s mum say ‘come here, birthday boy’ and I presented myself for my second spanking of the day.

Of course it was different, because it wasn’t my mum. But once I was dangling over her knee, the experience felt very similar. At least I was now dressed in jeans, so I had a little more protection for my rear end.

Tom’s Mum gave me 13 fairly mild smacks. Then I heard her say: “If he’s ever cheeky or naughty over at our house, it is OK to smack his bottom, Mum?” “Absolutely!” my mother replied.

The 14th and final smack – the one to ‘grow on’ – was an absolute scorcher. On top of all the other smacks I’d received that day, I felt it for real. I grimaced and rubbed my bottom furiously as Tom’s mum reluctantly returned me to my feet. The two mothers and my friend roared with laughter. I think Tom and his mum thought I was play acting – but Mum and I knew different!

Tom stayed for tea. I sat uncomfortably. Mum caught my eye on and off and smiled knowingly. Dad came home and asked me how my day had been. I told him it had been the best birthday ever – which was true.

Mum and I had a chat and a cuddle before my bedtime. I remember her saying: “That smacking is nothing compared to what will happen on your 14th birthday!”

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait that long before I found myself back across mums knee. It was always just for fun, always consensual, and always given and received with love.

Tom’s mum threatened to warm my bottom almost every time I went round to his house after that. However, in the event she only laid hands on me once more – on my 14th birthday. The spanking was again pretty mild. The outstanding memory of that one was that she was wearing a skirt when I went across her knee. I think it was the first time I’d been spanked by a woman wearing a skirt and I held on to her nylon-stockinged leg throughout. When Tom’s Mum stood me back up, I remember my hand resting on her knee and wanting to leave it there.

Mum and I remain very close – and I believe those fun spankings have a lot to do with the strength of our relationship. In fact, as I was typing this story, she called me – it’s almost like she knew what I was up to!

Contributor: Jay

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