Wet and warm

As a child of the 70s, I was more than used to being across my mum or dad’s knee, skirt up and knickers down, and being given a ‘damned good smacked bottom’, as they used to put it. However, one of these punishments stands out in my memory even today, almost 60 years on.

I was seven years old, and for some reason I had developed a bit of a phobia about going to the toilet anywhere than in my own home. At first, Mum was very sympathetic, no doubt correctly believing it was just a bit of a phase that would pass. However, on this particular day, she lost her patience.

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