I thought I would write in and relate my childhood memories as regards to spanking. I don’t remember being that bothered about the subject, but there was a general sort of curiosity about the thought of having your bum smacked and what it felt like.
After a sleepover at my aunt’s house, us kids all drifted down for breakfast the next morning. After breakfast had been eaten, one of my cousins – a boy a year younger than me – asked his mum if we could play in the garden. He was leaning against her as she was drinking tea. He was sort of whining in a playful, childish voice, pleading repeatedly, and we were laughing including Auntie Jaquie.
Well, she had the last laugh. She slipped her arm around my cousin’s waist and tipped him forward and across her knees. As she pulled off this slick manoeuvre that all children were allowed to go outside except my cousin. He was staying right where he was – over her knee!
Of course, none of us went out – we wanted to see what she was going to do. Auntie Jaquie left my cousin hanging as she looked through a newspaper, once in a while scolding ‘keep still’ and enforcing her command with a smack. My cousin laughed, and shouted ‘ouch!’ at each smack. He never struggled at any stage, or tried to escape.
We all thought this was great fun, and encouraged my aunt to smack him some more. After a while she asked my cousin if he was going to ‘stop being an annoying little so and so’. He promised he would and, with a few smacks more smacks for fun, he was released. Auntie Jaquie pulled a satisfied ‘thought as much’ face and us kids laughed. Teasing my cousin about getting spanked, we ran outside.
It was there that I was surprised to find I had developed an erection. I had enjoyed this whole spanking thing that played out before me, and fancied a go myself. I’d never been spanked and although there was natural curiosity, the fact that I got a hard-on was surprising and somewhat perplexing.
Following the herd, I followed them outside, my erection bobbing away in my shorts – but my head was back in the kitchen. My eyes were on my cousin, who had spent a good five minutes across his mum’s knee at breakfast. I was excited, and I wanted a bit of the action!
I sneaked away at some convenient point and asked my aunt if she could smack my bum just like she had my cousin. I got fobbed off – Auntie Jaquie told me to speak to my mum, which deflated my excitement somewhat.
At home, once the heat of the moment had passed, it was very difficult to talk to mum about the subject. After a day or two, I picked a bad time to attempt a conversation.
Mum came in from work and she was a bit rushed. I chose that moment to start blurting out a quick version of what happened at breakfast after the sleepover.
I had just got started when Mum stopped me. She put her hands on my shoulders and explained she had a problem with work, she was in a rush to get some dinner and needed my help. Mum did promise faithfully that she would talk with me later, and rushed off upstairs to our attic office. I was left to lay the table and call her when the oven was up to temperature.
After dinner, Mum went to the office and I watched telly with Dad. Time passed, then Mum suddenly appeared at the door. She smiled and beckoned me over to her. Mum apologised and explained something had gone wrong at work, which she had now sorted. She was ‘all ears’ and ready to talk about whatever it was I wanted to discuss.
As Dad was still watching telly, we went back to the office, Mum leading the way. She closed the door behind us, pulled a spare chair out for me and sat herself down opposite.
“Fire away,” she said. “You said something happened at Jaquie’s?” I took a deep breath and gave Mum the whole story. I explained that my cousin getting his bum smacked had looked like fun but Aunt Jaquie had deferred me to her. After my full and detailed version of what happened, to which Mum listened very carefully, she sat back and there was a long pause – she was obviously thinking hard.
Finally, she said: “I’m surprised Jaquie didn’t just give you a few smacks as it was only for fun. Hardly a big deal, is it? Still, the good news is, I get to give you a spanking!” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation.
I couldn’t believe how casual Mum was about it. In fact, she seemed positively happy to be given the chance to spank me. She stood up and adopted a strict, stern voice. She was obviously plahying but wow, did it seem real at the time.
“Stand up, boy! Get those trousers off this instant!” she commanded, standing tall over me with her hands on her hips. “I’m going put you across my knee and spank you so soundly you will not sit down for a month of Sundays!” she said. Wow, she was good at this!
Mum sat down on the chair I’d been occupying. Unlike her office swivel chair, this was a plain seat with no arms, and therefore far more suitable for spanking naughty little boys!
As mum turned me over her knee, she scolded: “You are such a naughty boy – you deserve a good spanking. Come here!”
This couldn’t have felt any more real if it had been a genuine spanking. I lay across mum’s lap, looking down at the carpet. It suddenly occurred to me that this time I had no erection. Why not? What I didn’t expect was for Mum to then tug down my underwear. I was so surprised, I drew breath and froze.
Then I heard her say: “When I’m finished back here, you will sit on your very sore bottom at my desk and write 100 lines: ‘I’m sorry I was a naughty boy, Mum.’ You will then go straight to bed! Now, hold still –I am going to give you the spanking of your life!”
She didn’t mean it, did she? Not lines, she must be messing…ow! Mum started to spank me – and it stung! There wasn’t much playing around going on back there. I complained that it was supposed to be for fun. Mum’s reply was worrying: “Well, I’m having fun – aren’t you?”
A couple more sharp, firm smacks landed and then Mum started to laugh. “What a wuss! A few smacks and you’re complaining!” “It stings!” I complained, now laughing myself.” “Well, it’s a spanking – that’s the point!” “It’s supposed to be for fun – it’s not real,” I reminded her. She retorted: “I’ll decide what’s fun and what’s real, you naughty little boy!”
Mum tightened her grip, thoroughly enjoying herself. She started smacking me again, we both laughed as I complained and Mum accused me of being a total wuss, and a big baby. “Quiet, boy! Or I’ll fetch my slipper!”
I have no idea how long this game lasted or how many smacks Mum gave me. What I can say with certainty is that my bum really stung by the time she’d done with me. During the spanking she paused now and then to tell me how much fun she was having. She told me she really enjoyed putting me across her knee and thought she might do this once a week from now on just for fun.
In between these expressions of happiness, my bare bottom received a series of smacks. Each time I thought it must be the last lot, I got a few more. The funny thing was, my bum stung but because of the breaks in between smacks the smarting never really actually became unbearable. Mum seemed to gauge it just about right – she had me just on the edge, a stingy backside, but not enough to cause any serious discomfort.
“There, that should do it!” Mum declared as my spanking finally came to an end. “Any complaints while I’ve got you in a handy position?” she asked with a gentle pat of her fingers. “Not flipping likely, Mum!” “Oh, that’s a shame! Well, just to be sure, how about a few more, just for fun?” she teased. “It stings enough, thank you!” I replied. And it really did.
Mum rubbed my now very warm bare bottom vigorously, gave me a sharp smack on each cheek and continued to tease me. “Oh, go on! Let me carry on. I’m having so much fun – how about another 50 good hard smacks?” “Fifty!” I cried out, appalled at the prospect. “No way!”
Mum obviously thought my reaction priceless. She laughed her head off – but my bottom did get a further dozen sound, well-placed smacks before she let me slide to my knees. She bent forward and wrapped her arms around me and hugged and kissed me as we laughed together.
My hands were clasped to my newly spanked buttocks. “Flipping hell, mum! That stung!” “Oh, don’t be such a baby!”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to write those lines. Her face beaming, Mum dismissed me after a good long hug. As I left the office, she said: “Let that be a lesson to you, young man! There’s plenty more where that came from!” She looked very pleased with herself.
I went straight to the bathroom. I had learned by accident if you opened the mirrored cabinet door half way you could see yourself in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I looked at my bum and was disappointed to see it was merely slightly pink. Considering how much the spanking had stung, I was surprised – I was expecting at least a bright red! These days, when I see online depictions of spankings between consenting adults, I can sometimes barely believe how red some of the recipients’ bottoms get – it must be agony!
Luckily I didn’t get an erection during that spanking from Mum. However, when I returned to the privacy of my bedroom, I certainly had one.
We had a lot of fun that evening but I came away with no doubt about how painful a ‘proper’ spanking could be. Even my ‘fun’ one from Mum left my bum very warm to the touch, and it still stung when I went to bed.
Mum and I joked about the incident a bit more as I grew up. She always said that if I wanted another I just had to come and ask, because she had really enjoyed herself. I seemed to detect a distinct spring in Mum’s step for a day or two after my spanking. Needless to say, I never did ask her again. I had enjoyed the experience, but once was enough! Mum called me a chicken and a wuss!
Over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that Mum had used reverse phycology on me. I think she pretended to enjoy spanking me – and offered to smack me again whenever I wanted – in the hope that it would have the opposite effect. But in the end, it wasn’t the psychology that put me off – it was the pain!
That spanking she gave me was not a punishment – the smacks were well spread out and I had time to absorb the sting during the brief breaks while we talked and laughed. But it still stung, and continued to sting as I fell asleep.
I will admit I enjoyed the fun side, the bonding with Mum, the physical contact of being held across her knee – but even a fun spanking from my mother was enough to convince me that I never wanted to experience the ‘real thing’.
I suppose it’s possible she actually did enjoy smacking me – certainly, she seemed very skilled at keeping me just on the side of stinging but not suffering unbearable pain!
Today, I still like to read stories of other people’s experiences, which is how I found Maman. Real experiences of spankings for pleasure, fun or mild punishment are truly exciting. I’m just not too keen on the pain – which is pretty inconvenient when you like spanking!