I only found the Maman site a few days ago and have been reading the posts avidly each evening since, when I have some time on my own to enjoy doing so without interruption.
I am a UK grandmother and admit to enjoying reading about spankings that have been given as a shared event, for example with mum, auntie, friend or neighbour being present.
This incident happened back in the 1970s, when my daughter Ann and her best friend Jennifer (the daughter of a neighbour only two doors away) were both 12 and in their second year of senior school. Ann and Jennifer were almost inseparable as friends and, as both I and Jennifer’s mum Pam used to remark, ‘as thick as thieves together’.
Pam and I were also close friends and of similar outlook regarding the parenting of our daughters. I had raised Ann with the occasional trip across my knee for a smacked bottom in her younger years, and I knew Pam had done likewise with Jennifer.
For Ann’s part, at the time of this story she had not been across my knee for a spanking since she left junior school, about two years previously. Since then, I had used other means of punishment whenever necessary (such as being grounded, extra chores or loss of pocket money and privileges) in the hope that as she was now at senior school, she might begin to demonstrate growing self-discipline.
On this particular day, Ann had returned home from school and handed me a note. It informed me that my daughter and another pupil (as it turned out, Jennifer – surprise, surprise) had been caught out of bounds that lunchtime. Ann had been awarded demerit points and a half-hour detention, which unless I confirmed otherwise would be served that Friday after school.
I was furious with Ann. I told her she was grounded for the next two weekends, and that she would also get her pocket money stopped for the next two weeks as well as having extra chores.
My daughter started to protest and tell me how ‘unfair’. None of her friends got grounded like she did, she insisted. I told her that I doubted that very much – and asked what she thought Jennifer’s mum would have to say to her when she found out? To which Ann replied: “Well, she told me – all she gets is a couple of nights of being sent to bed early!”
“Knowing Auntie Pam as I do, I can’t believe that’s true,” I replied but Ann insisted that Jennifer had told her so. “Well,” I replied, “I’ll ring Auntie Pam later and see if that really is the case. Meanwhile, you can start setting the table for tea!”
I telephoned Pam. She confirmed that Jennifer was going to be put to bed early for a couple of nights – but only after she had been given a well-smacked bottom on each occasion. That very evening, Jennifer was to be put across her mum’s knee at bed time and have her bare backside smacked. The next evening, her knickers would be taken down for a dose of the slipper to drive home the point.
I told Pam what Ann had said. She replied: “I doubt Jennifer would admit to being put across my knee.” There was a pause. “Or maybe she did and Ann might have just conveniently missed out that bit, don’t you think?”
Then Pam said: “Can I suggest something? Why don’t you and I play them at their own game? You can tell Ann that I didn’t ground Jennifer and did put her to bed earlier. Then ask her if she thinks it would be fair to get exactly the same punishment her friend received?”
I readily fell in with the plan, as I was very cross about the girls’ misbehaviour and I suspected my daughter was trying to ‘play’ me.
After I got off the phone to Pam, I went back into the kitchen. I told Ann that she had been correct about Jennifer not being grounded. “So do think you should get exactly the same thing as Jennifer, then?” “Yes!” Ann replied emphatically, a look of triumph on her face.
“Well, all right. I’m still cross with you, young lady! Seeing as you’ll be going to bed early, you’d better get ready for that now. I want you in bed by seven o’clock, straight after your tea!” Ann harrumphed off upstairs to her room, and returned a short while later dressed in a brushed cotton nightie, slippers and dressing gown.
We then sat down to our tea. Around 6.45, we were in the process of clearing the table when the doorbell rang. Ann looked smug, obviously thinking her early bedtime was obviously about to be extended because of this unexpected caller. She looked very confused indeed when I came back into the kitchen with Pam.
I invited Pam to sit down, then turned to my perplexed-looking daughter. “As you know, I talked to Auntie Pam about Jennifer’s punishment, and you agreed to take the same. Well, what you didn’t tell me is that Jennifer would be going to bed for the next two nights with a good, sore bottom!”
As Ann looked at me in horror, realising her deception had been rumbled, I continued: “Auntie Pam has just given Jennifer her spanking and put her to bed. Now she has come round to do the same to you!” I grabbed Ann by the arm. “It’s bedtime for naughty girls – I think Auntie Pam needs us upstairs for this. Come along, up we go!”
Holding her with a tight grip, I marched Ann up to her bedroom, with Pam following behind us. She sat down on Ann’s bed, meanwhile I stripped my daughter of her dressing gown and propelled her towards Pam’s waiting lap. “Over you go, miss! You wanted the same as Jennifer – well, now you’re going to get it!”
Pam looked up at me for confirmation and I nodded as she pulled Ann bottom up on her lap. Pam reached down to take hold of the hem of Ann’s nightie and again looked up at me. Again, I nodded my approval. For Ann’s benefit, I added: “Yes, please, Auntie Pam – exactly the same way and exactly as many smacks as you gave Jennifer.”
I watched my friend lift my daughter’s nightie at the back to reveal her bare bottom. Pam was an experienced spanker and reddened Ann’s buttocks efficiently for several minutes. My daughter’s desperate crying, which began after only a few smacks, told me that the chastisement was obviously having the desired effect. Then, face stained with tears and bottom glowing like a lit cigarette, Ann was indeed put to bed early like a naughty little girl.
Unfortunately for her, the misery didn’t end there either. The following evening, I sent her up to her room again straight after tea and a few minutes later I went upstairs with one of her father’s slippers to complete the lesson.
A definite case of be careful what you wish for!