I grew up in a traditional family, the second youngest six kids. I wouldn’t say my parents were quick to spank, but it was definitely their ‘go-to form’ of discipline for anything that didn’t have a natural consequence. If you didn’t do your homework, Mom would come up with extra assignments; didn’t clean up your room, any toys on the floor were confiscated for a few days and that sort of thing.
But for things that didn’t have a natural consequence or were more serious – repeated misbehaviour, lying, fighting, trouble at school or church, deliberately disobeying – you could be sure you were going to get a spanking.
From high school, our parents phased out corporal punishment for everything but the most serious offences, but we all earned a few trips over the knee in high school, and we all knew it was a possibility right until we left for college.
Spanking wasn’t a secret in our family or my parent’s social circle, which revolved around our church. Spankings in front of immediate family weren’t shocking. We almost never got it where cousins or friends could see, but if they happened to be in the house when someone earned a spanking, they definitely heard or knew it was happening, when the offender was led away by Mom or Dad. The only other adults who had spanking permission were my mom’s sister and our grandparents – but to get spanked by them was really rare.
I was fortunate in that for me, it was near the small of my back so my upper body wasn’t effected, but my lower body was. I started walking later than most children and couldn’t walk without a special type of walker for toddlers until I was four. I did PT several times a week throughout most of my childhood, I had several surgeries and wasn’t out of daytime diapers until I was almost 11.
I could usually feel the need to go, but couldn’t adequately control the muscles used to go to the bathroom. Even after that, I wore pull-ups during the daytime because of limited bladder capacity, spasms and pelvic floor dysfunction.
I never once got teased by my siblings for being in diapers; even at the school we went to, it was just known that you ‘didn’t make fun of Alex’. When I started kindergarten, Mom came and gave a talk, to my class and each of my siblings’ classes, about my disability.
The ‘bathroom part’ of the talk was about four seconds long – the real point of it was to explain why I went to the nurse a lot, had a lot of doctor’s appointments, didn’t run at recess etc. It was a small, private, Christian school, so there was usually only me and a few other kids with a visible disability in the school at a time.
Although I got treated differently from other kids at school, the same was very much not the case at home. My parents were sort of evangelical about not treating me any different – so if I did something that would’ve earned my siblings a spanking, I got a sore bottom too and got it just like they did. I tried to argue my way out of spanking based on my disability a couple times, and learned never to try that again.
So, as I say, I got spanked just like my siblings did – except for a couple of extra embarrassing aspects. For instance, I don’t think I ever got spanked any way other than bare bottom after I turned five. Basically, if I was going over Mom’s knee, my pants and diaper were coming down.
Every time I tried to beg to not get it bare, I was told that I wouldn’t even feel it through my diaper (which isn’t exactly true – I got swatted a few times on the way to wherever my spanking was taking place, and it did hurt some).
It’s always embarrassing to have your pants lowered for a spanking, but it’s a whole other experience having your diaper taken down and even worse when it’s in the living room in front your brothers and sisters. Even worse is standing there naked from the waist down and being quickly wiped off before going over your parent’s knee. I will say that I never had to do bare bottom corner time, so I guess I had that going for me.
The other issue was that once you turned 10, spanking didn’t take place in the common rooms anymore, and Dad spanked the boys and Mom punished the girls – except for me.
Mom didn’t work, so for my brothers spanking after 10 became a ‘wait ’til your father gets home’ deal, and neither my brothers or sisters ever got spanked in a common room or on the spot after that age.
It took me a long time to work up the courage to say something about the situation – I was 12, I think – but when I finally did (after getting spanked bare over Mom’s knee in the kitchen and having a good cry about it in my room after), my mother looked like she hadn’t even realised the potential unfairness of the situation.
My parents were always very honest with me, and Mom and Dad apologised to me the next day. Mom said that given my disability and me needing certain kinds of help even after I turned 10, it just hadn’t occurred to her that it might feel extra embarrassing to still get spanked by her.
As for getting it where others could see, I and my family had a different relationship with my nudity since there were times it was just unavoidable that my siblings were going to see me naked, like if one of my older siblings was babysitting when my parents were out or when we were on vacation and sharing a smaller house (one thing I will say about my disability is I was the only kid in the family who got his own room ). I didn’t feel weird about it until much later than most kids.
The thing was that I actually did feel a lot more comfortable getting that sort of help from Mom than Dad, and in what was one of the most embarrassing conversations to that point in my life, I said I didn’t mind that I was still getting spanked by Mom and not Dad (siblings’ opinions differ on who gave the harder spanking, but Mom’s hairbrush was, in my opinion, preferable to Dad’s belt).
But I did mind still getting it where someone else could see. I even tried the ‘I’m too old for spanking in general’ line because why not, but I was assured I wasn’t. However, it was agreed that Mom would give me all my spankings from then on, either in my own bedroom or theirs.
My parents did do a better job respecting my privacy outside our immediate family. My brothers and sisters got spanked in front of cousins and very close family friends every once in a while, but for me it was only twice. One of those times, well, I guess Mom deserves some credit for patience because I really tested it!
We went to my aunt’s house for the afternoon to go swimming. It was late summer, Mom was more than ready for us to go back to school, it was disgustingly hot and I was getting over one of my frequent urinary tract infections and wasn’t allowed to swim because of it (swimming can make a UTI worse).
I had spent the previous two days feeling awful, and then I felt much better, so I had all this excess energy and didn’t really understand the whole ‘you feel better but you’re still sick’ thing. I argued about not being allowed to swim from the moment Mom told me I couldn’t get in the water and pretty much every 90 seconds until it dawned on me that if I couldn’t swim, I could just be a royal pain in the butt to everyone around me instead. That’s almost as fun as swimming, right?
Mom was sympathetic and being extra patient, but I had exhausted all my warnings. She had me sit next to her for a 10-minute cool down and told me very clearly when I got up that I was in for a spanking if I didn’t behave myself.
So naturally, as makes total sense to a nine-year-old, the first thing I did after getting up was to push my seven-year-old cousin into the pool.
It’s kind of a blur after that. I remember Mom taking me by the arm and spank-marching me back to her chair while I cried like the most wronged person in history, and proclaimed every injustice I’d suffered since getting out of bed that morning.
I knew I was in for a spanking and probably a serious one, but it wasn’t until Mom had her thumbs hooked into my shorts that I realised she wasn’t taking me inside. Shorts down, diaper on display to my cousins, diaper down and over Mom’s lap. I swear she somehow managed to fish the hairbrush out of her pool bag without once slowing down the spanks. Let’s just say it was a seriously intense moment, all packed into probably no more than a minute.
I was bawling when Mom picked me up off her lap and carried me inside. Once I’d had a seriously serious cry on her shoulder, she took me to the bathroom to wipe me down with a cool cloth and get me into clean clothes.
My cousins knew not to ever make fun of me for my disability, but as Mom was putting me down for a nap in my aunt’s bed (where did all that excess energy go?) the cousin I’d pushed walked in, holding the diaper Mom had taken off me before putting me over her knee, pretending she was being helpful.
Like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, she said to my mom: “I brought his diaper in case he needs it.” Mom thanked her – though I don’t think she fell for it – and asked her to throw it away.
When Mom turned away momentarily, my cousin mouthed ‘baby’ at me. That made me cry again. I didn’t tattle on my cousin (she owed me one), and Mom just assumed that between the spanking, still being a little sick, and the heat I just needed to cry some more. She went and got the hand towel from the bathroom and wetted it again, and stayed with me until I fell asleep.
I don’t remember much else about the day after my nap except that I was Mommy’s little shadow until bedtime (and probably the next day). I tried my best to not be seen as a baby growing up, like all kids do, but there were also days when all I wanted was Mom (also, like all kids do).
I always felt that way after a spanking. The worse the spanking, the more clingy I’d be for the rest of the day. There were a few other incidents that stand out in my mind, but that was by far one of the most intense and embarrassing spankings I ever got. To say it contributed to the formation of my fetishes, well, that’s a major understatement.