Growing up through the 1990s in the UK, I became a huge fan of all things wrestling. I am of course referring to modern WWE bouts rather than the vintage English wresting of the 70s and 80s. Though I have, in later life, come to appreciate those early UK bouts, it was the pure theatre of WWE that grabbed my attention as a boy.
I was lucky enough to attend a live wrestling event and got hooked on all the drama. For my birthday, my parents bought me a wrestling outfit, a sort of spandex body suit and a mask. I wore that thing day and night. Mum had to wash it when I was at school – it was the only time she could get hold of it!
I witnessed my first spanking during a mixed wrestling bout. One of the women, a stunning blonde who looked like a model, sat on another woman’s back and slapped her bum really hard a few times. At least, it looked really hard and the recipient yelped and bucked dramatically at each smack.
It was very entertaining and a bit of a turn on for a young, impressionable boy. Once alerted to the fact that spankings were fairly common in wrestling it sort of stuck with me, especially when the pretty girls did it to each other!
I wasn’t obssessed with spanking, I knew what it was, of course, but had never received one. Corporal punishment for children was becoming increasingly out of fashion by this time.
I gave myself a wrestling name – Mickey, the Mad, Masked, Marauder! Quite a mouthful, I think you would agree? Dad shortened it to Mad Mickey, which sort of stuck.
One weekend, I watched a wrestling match on TV. My uncle and aunt were there. I was dressed as Mad Mickey, which amused the family, especially my 13-year-old cousin Rachel. She was a very pretty girl, and I fancied her something rotten.
After the wrestling match, my dad and his brother went for a drink and they promised to be back in a couple of hours with take away food. I was in wrestling mode, desperate to practice my moves. With the gorgeous Rachel to impress I offered all comers a chance to wrestle me. My aunt turned my offer down on the grounds that she would make mincemeat of me!
In the end, after a bit of badgering, my mum went and changed into some wrestling appropriate clothing – tight fitting leggings and a T shirt – and accepted my challenge.
The lovely Rachel and my aunt watched on as mum and I began to grapple. We went through some basic moves, then Mum eventually tripped me using a judo move and sat on my chest, with my arms stretched above my head. You can’t help laugh when you play games like this. I cried out ‘coorrr!’ (referring to Mum’s weight) and everyone else laughed.
I twisted and turned and wriggled, and after a minute Mum let me up. We grappled some more until I managed to get Mum face down on the floor – it would be fair to say that she rather let me do this!
I sat on Mum’s back, pulled her ankles towards me and held her like that, demanding she submit. Mum played along, refusing to do so. Meanwhile, Rachel and my aunt encouraged Mum to sort me out and stop ‘lying around on the job’.
My demands for a submission having failed, eventually I released one leg and held onto one of Mum’s ankles. She had thin socks on, so I cheated a bit and ran a finger down the sole of her foot which tickled. Mum shrieked and laughed. The ‘audience’ – in particular my aunt – reacted slightly differently! “Oh, that’s out of order,” my aunt said. “Come on, Sally – don’t let him get away with that!”
“Don’t you dare tickle!” Mum called back at me. Well, I didn’t. What I did – and would soon regret – was to copy what I’d seen done on TV – I slapped Mum’s bottom! (Wrestlemania-style, pretending to swing my arm really high and hard).
I managed to land two hearty smacks on her bum and called for a submission before things went south. Mum howled, turned over easily, pulled me backwards and rolled me like a crocodile. “Now you’re gonna get it, Mad Mickey!” my aunt called out, as Mum and I got to our feet.
Mum was laughing but threatening me with all sorts under her breath, and was on me in an instant. Our audience was definitely biased towards my mum, calling: “Sort him out, Sally! Come on – teach him who’s boss!” Even the lovely Rachel joined in: “Get him, Aunt Sally! Go on! Don’t let him get away with slapping you – get him and make him tap out!”
Mum turned me facing away from her, bent my head down and, being unfamiliar with the move she was pulling on me, I quickly found myself over one of her knees! Mum had knelt down on one knee, pulled my protecting hand into my back, and I was well and truly stuck!
I tried to scrabble away but there was nowhere to get any leverage. Mum had me across her knee, bottom up (and covered in just thin Spandex), right in front of Rachel and my aunt. My socks slipped on the carpet, so zero grip there. I really was trapped just like a toddler turned over his mummy’s knee for a smack bottom!
I was in trouble here – I couldn’t remember any victim I’d seen in WWE bouts ever escaping from this kneeling, over the knee position. It usually finished when the spanker pushed the victim off.
After some general rubbing it in (‘smack talk’ if you’ll pardon the pun), Mum gave me an ultimatum: submit and lose the bout, or suffer the consequences of the ‘below the belt’ tickling and smacking moves I had pulled on her. Thinking back, I really was pushing my luck smacking my own mother’s bottom – I suppose I just got caught up in the moment.
Now, when I say I was in trouble, I was – on three fronts. First, I was very stuck across Mum’s knee in front of my lovely cousin and my aunt. Not good. Second, my wrestling suit was extremely thin, so any smacks Mum gave me were going to feel as if they were landing on my bare bum – not good.
The third dilemma was that my current position, the gyrating and wrestling, and talk of smacking had all conspired to give me an erection a boy could be proud of – really not good! This was actually my main concern. What if Mum could feel it? Over your mother’s knee with a hard-on, what could possibly go wrong?
If I submitted and got released, all three of the females present could possibly have seen my erection. It’s true that there was a little bit of padding around the crotch of my costume, but it would still have been clear that there was ‘activity’ down there!
If I stayed put – and I didn’t seem to have much option there – I was going to be spanked, of that I was pretty sure. The worst part of that prospect was that Rachel would have a ringside seat to watch me being smacked like a naughty little boy.
All of these thoughts flashed through my mind in seconds – and I finally reached a decision. That was to stay put, hope my erection subsided meanwhile and keep my fingers crossed that Mum wouldn’t smack me too many times, or too hard. Hopefully she would ‘fake’ spank me with a huge swinging arm that looked like it was going to really hurt, only to land a relatively gently smack.
Mum asked: “Ready to admit defeat and surrender, Mad Mickey?” “Never!” I fired back.
“Show no mercy, Sally!” my aunt said. I was surprised to hear Rachel pipe up: “Go on, Aunt Sally – smack his bum, really hard!” My cousin’s comments excited me further, which was not very helpful given the current state of my penis.
Mum spoke again. “You can save yourself a world of suffering by submitting, or…it’s spanking time!” Mum said the last three words slowly and with considerable relish. Oh crap! Please, please let her be bluffing!
She wasn’t, though. “Time’s up, Mad Mickey – you are about to find out what happens when you tickle my foot, and dare to slap my bottom! Submit now, or I’m going to spank you until you do. Save yourself the pain, because this is only going to stop when you surrender, so you might as well surrender now!”
My aunt retorted: “He’s had more than enough chances, Sally. Time to teach the naughty little boy a lesson. Spank him soundly!” Thanks for that, I thought.
Out load, I objected to being called a little boy. I reminded the crowd that I was Mad Mickey, the Masked Marauder! On reflection, this may not have been the smartest move I’d ever made.
I was still hoping this was all talk, just bluffing to get me to submit. Then they would laugh at me and Mum would say: “I was never really going to spank you – had you fooled there!”
But no such luck. Mum said: “Right now, you look exactly like a naughty little boy who’s been turned over his mother’s knee for a spanking. And that’s what you’re going to get, Mad Mickey – a good spanking!”
Oh God – not in front of Rachel! Then…
Smack, smack, smack, smack! Mum spanked me good and hard, right from the start. The smacks were well spaced out, with Mum demanding I submit between each one. Despite the sting and the embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh at my predicament. My aunt said encouragingly: “That’s it, Sally! Keep it going until he surrenders!”
To cover my embarrassment I played along a bit. I cried out at each smack, wriggled as best I could under the circumstances, and waved my one free arm a little. Mum carried on delivering well-spaced firm smacks, asking after each one if I was ready to ‘tap out’ or ‘surrender’.
As I had feared, my Spandex suit offered zero protection, and even though this was all in good spirits and Mum wasn’t exactly going full tilt, after a few good firm smacks my bum was starting to feel decidedly tingly and warm, to say the least. Frustratingly, my erection remained rock solid. I gritted my teeth, pulled faces and tried as best I could not to catch Rachel’s eye. I had stopped laughing as the warmth from the spanks began to concentrate my mind.
Mum stopped and again asked if I was ready to submit. “Never!” I threw back, loud and clear. Unfortunately, I had underestimated my mother’s resolve to ‘win’ or at least get revenge. She consulted my aunt and Rachel, and they agreed there was to be no letting me up until I tapped out or submitted. They had decided that my below the belt tickling and slapping move was unforgivable.
My aunt spoke up. “Come on, Sally, finish him off! Smack his bottom good and hard!” Rachel backed up her mum. “Go on, Aunt Sally! Make him submit – he cheated!” Those two were out for blood – mine!
Mum began another round of firm smacks to my bum, saying: “Oh dear, look at Mad Mickey! Turned over his mother’s knee and getting his bottom smacked just like a naughty little boy!” This was awful, all in front of Rachel, who seemed to be enjoying the spectacle of her cousin being spanked. Clearly, mind games were being applied as well as Mum’s firm hand!
Meanwhile, my aunt remained firm in urging Mum to show no leniency at all, but to smack me until I submitted. She was really showing a side to her I’d never encountered before. Even though this was all light-hearted horseplay, my aunt’s reaction was nevertheless an eye opener.
The other thing that had not escaped my attention was that Mum had me in a vice-like grip, and she could smack hard! My bum was stinging and this was just mucking about. I had never been punished with an actual spanking, but it was certainly an interesting experience!
Mum telling me I looked like a little boy over her knee had not helped my erection issue. Strangely, I found that this kind of talk was rather a turn on, and I was becoming aware that although the spanking was embarrassing, it was also giving me a lot of pleasure – I was enjoying having my bum smacked!
I wriggled a bit, which not only made Mum laugh but also prompted her to smack a bit harder and remind me there was no getting away. Tapping out or submission was the only way this would end! All the gyrating had caused me a lot of pleasure and I felt I was getting to close to ejaculating. Obviously that would get rid of my erection issue, but it would cause another problem with the mess it would leave in my suit. What would Mum say next time she washed it? That thought was mortifying.
Although this has taken an age to write up, the whole scene lasted maybe five minutes or so, and I would guess half of that time was made up of chat, laughter and ‘smack talk’.
Finally, I came up with a plan that might save me some face or credibility. I told Mum that I really needed a wee, thinking that might at least explain my erection if any of the others noticed it. But Mum was uncompromising. “Tough! Submit, tap out, surrender and you get to go to the loo!”
I was obviously in a tough spot. Finally, I said that I was only submitting because I desperately needed to pee. “So you submit?” “Yes, Mum – I need to pee!” “Say it loudly,” Mum demanded. “Say: ‘Mum, I submit!’”
To my eternal shame, I submitted. “I submit mum, because I need to pee, badly!” There – I’d said it!
I had used the loo as an excuse but it was my erection (or rather, my imminent ‘happy ending’) that had really caused me to submit. I cannot deny that I was enjoying being spanked – it was fun, and a turn on. Quite a learning curve, an unexpected pleasure.
“Do we accept his submission, ladies?” Mum asked the audience. Yet again my aunt was stern, strict and unforgiving. “I say give him a few more good hard smacks for the sheer nerve he had to slap you, then release him!”
Rachel agreed – she was as strict as her mother. “You defintely need to smack him some more for that tickling and slapping, Aunt Sally! That was out of order!”
Mum laughed – far too much for my liking. “Agreed! A good spanking for the naughty little boy before I release him!” I got about 20 more good hard smacks, which had me squawking for real and the ladies laughing and encouraging Mum to make sure I felt each and every one. I bloody well did, too!
Mum released me, and my aunt said smugly: “Hecould have saved himself a smacked bottom if he had been smart enough to submit in the first place!”
Mum raised her arms in triumph. “Mum wins by a spanking!” She announced loudly, laughing and applauding herself. Rachel and my aunt clapped with her!
I scrabbled up from the maternal lap, covering my crotch as I scuttled off to the loo. As I left the room, Mum called after me. “I quite like this wrestling lark, so you’d better watch it from now on, mister, or you’ll be back across my knee – because I enjoyed that too!” So did I, Mum, I thought to myself ruefully. So did I.
After a fair old struggle to get out of my wrestling suit, I gave myself a few strokes and I came. Everywhere. I really made a mess. As I cleaned up both the bathroom and myself, I felt genuinely surprised at how much I had enjoyed being spanked. As I said at the beginning, I was aware of such childish sanctions but hardly fixated on them – although I did find those girl-on-girl spankings at wrestling matches very exciting!
When I returned to the lounge I was teased without mercy about surrendering. I stuck to my story, that I only tapped out because I was desperate for a wee. I’m sure they didn’t believe me. Hopefully they hadn’t worked out the real reason for my submission.
My aunt gave me a stern look. “Your mum let you off lightly, Mikey. Good job it wasn’t me you were wrestling!” In my head, I wondered if she ever spanked Rachel. Now that was an exciting thought!
Later, after Dad and my uncle had returned and we had eaten, my aunt told them how I tapped out to Mum. The men were quite sympathetic towards me, but both my mum and aunt continued to mock me. My aunt said: “Fancy losing to his mum! Tapping out after a few little play pats to his botty!” Play pats, my arse! My bottom was still tingling when I went to bed that night.
So, wrestling was the spark that ignited my interest in spanking. Indeed, I thought of little else for a while. Being spanked by Mum was fun, and we did have a few more wrestling bouts. However, I was warned that if I tickled or slapped her, there would be hell to pay! I took the threat seriously and although I would sometimes tease that I was going to tickle her, I never did!
The funny thing was that from then on, Mum often threatened to put me across her knee ‘like a naughty little boy’, invariably adding: “And you know that I can, don’t you?” She was still threatening me with a smacked bottom into my early 20s. She never made good on the threat, of course, but I enjoyed it nevertheless.
Contributor: Mad Mickey the Masked Marauder