My wife and I found the Maman site, and as a result we had quite a long conversation about spanking and read a few stories together, which was fun. We chose not to have children. Our relatives have several, although= we have never seen or heard any of them being smacked.
My wife wasn’t smacked at all as a child. I told my wife about my childhood and she encouraged me to write it down and send it to you. The reason my wife was so taken with my story was, why I was smacked. She was to be honest almost speechless. Trust me, that doesn’t happen often! This has also led to a renewed chapter of our adult sex life, so all in all I’m pretty happy we found the site.
I had two sisters and a brother, all older than me. On either side of our home when I was young were four other children, two each side, and we all played together in one big gang.
Although we are talking late 1980s, smacked bottoms were still fairly common for us. My mum tended to smack us children, I suppose, quite often – but never particularly hard. They were mostly short, sharp, shock affairs, done at the point of the crime being committed, and then life moved on. Mum normally delivered a few sharp smacks followed by the admonition: “Now behave!” It was rare that Mum would put the miscreant across her knee, as these punishments were, in the main, inflicted on the spur of the moment.
Mostly she would grab hold of your arm (that under-the-armpit hold mums are so good at!), her arm would wrap around your back and she drew you to her hip. Then she would deliver on average up to 10 firm, quick smacks that could land anywhere from the upper part of your bum to behind the knees. The only time Mum put anyone across her knee was if she happened to be sitting, or there was a convenient place to sit.
My middle sister committed some crime once and was taken to Mum’s bedroom, the door was closed. This was undoubtably the soundest spanking any of us ever received. I have no idea what my sister did, but it was a planned, over-the-knee spanking given on the bare bottom. Such was its effect that my middle sister never earned herself another smacked bottom ever again! She was very quiet and reserved for days after, and reluctant to answer any of our questions. The reason for and exact method of the spanking remain a mystery. I suspect either a slipper or hairbrush was used.
When playing in another house or garden we were never smacked by the other parent, but word always got back to our mum if we had misbehaved. We tended not to be smacked ‘after the event’, so often we would get away with an offence committed on ‘foreign soil’.
It wasn’t unusual for at least one of us to be smacked daily. All, that is, except yours truly. Mum never raised a hand to me. Maybe because I was the baby of the gang, or maybe I just didn’t do anything naughty enough?
Ironically, I realised early on that I was curious about receiving a smacked bottom, probably because I had seen and heard so many. One of my earliest vivid memories was of lying in bed listening to a scolding being delivered to my brother. Inevitably, the sound of a firm hand being applied to a soft bottom would follow. I would lay there listening intently, wondering what it felt like.
Oddly, it wasn’t so much the smacking that I listened for – I was more interested in the protesting voice as it rose in volumn, and then how the promises of better behaviour gave way to the word ‘sorry’ being repeated, over and over. That particular early memory stuck with me as I remember clearly the protesting and apologising giving way to a short silence before my brother’s crying started. My siblings were so used to the quick, short smacks they never cried from those – tears were only ever achieved from a prolonged session across Mum’s knee. No-one survived a trip across that lap without being reduced to proper all out, ‘don’t care who sees or hears’ crying!
Dad didn’t get involved much. I remember just once Mum told him to ‘speak’ to my oldest sister later in life when she became a little rebelious. I cannot remember the details of what happened, which leaves me to think Dad took Mum at her word and merely told his daughter off.
After a particular short but unhappy period (probably a school holiday) where at least three if not four of our gang had suffered a smacked bottom during the previous day or two, I became something of a target. I wasn’t exactly bullied, but they picked on me. I was called ‘mummy’s boy’ and made to feel like the odd one out, simply because I had not had my bum smacked.
One particular day, one of the girls who lived next door had been given a particularly sound spanking. She was a bit tetchy about it and clearly had it in for me, calling me a ‘goody goody’. I remember clearly that the results of her spanking were quite visible below her knicker line when her dress lifted slightly.
By the afternoon I was feeling a bit left out, so I slunk off to my room and entertained myself alone. Mum came to my room for some reason – housework related, I think – and found me feeling sorry for myself. She winkled out of me the reason I was inside alone when the others were all outside.
I didn’t tell on anyone specifically but explained that they were calling me names, because I never seemed to even get told off, let alone be given a sore bottom. Mum listened carefully, then told me to come downstairs to the dining room in five minutes, and off she went.
I had no inkling of why she wanted to see me in the dining room, but I went there as instructed. While I waited for Mum I watched my brother and sisters playing in the garden with all the other children.
Mum came in and opened a window as wide as it would go. Turning to me, she said quietly: “I’ll take it easy – you make as much noise as you can!”
With that, Mum started shouting my name and telling me to ‘get my backside’ in the dining room. She then turned a chair and continued to yell at me. “How often have I told you children not to do that?” she demanded.
Pulling me close, Mum tugged my shorts down, bared my bum and hauled me up and over her knees before I had time to work out what the hell was going on. My siblings and neighbours went quiet as the unmistakable sound of a bare bottomed spanking filled the dining room and drifted out of the window. “I’m sick of telling you! Perhaps this will remind you?” Mum yelled at me she smacked my bare upturned bottom. “Just because you are the youngest doesn’t mean you can get away with it,” she added, loud enough for those in the garden to hear loud and clear.
Back to my smacking. I must say, if Mum was taking it easy on me, then I’m a Martian! I didn’t need to pretend to make as much noise as I could – I hollered for all I was worth as my bare, upturned little bottom was soundly spanked.
Mum skilfully brought me to the verge of tears – I wasn’t quite at the point of breaking into real sobbing, but tears ran down my face and I was right at the point of total surrender when Mum stopped. Pulling my shorts back up as she helped me dismount from her lap, she shouted: “Now, get outside and don’t come back until tea time – or you’ll be back across my knee for another dose!” I was steered to the back door and shoved outside.
Once out in the garden, with both hands clasped to my glowing rear end, I was welcomed into the gang with open arms and words of sympathy. However, kind words did nothing to calm the burning sensation currently fizzing in my underpants! I wiped my eyes as I attempted to recover from both the shock and pain of an actual spanking.
I must say, one thing the ‘punishment’ did achieve was to dampen my enthusiasm to be smacked again. If Mum was really taking it easy, then I wasn’t so keen to be on the receiving end of one when she was actually cross with me.
When I explained all this to my wife, she sat with her mouth open, horrified. I explained Mum had simply spanked me to gain the sympathy of my gang – and it had worked!
Some time later, after my wife had time to mull this over, she asked me some more questions about the experience. This in turn led me to ask if she would like to smack me – for a bit of fun. I must admit it took a little arm twisting but later that day my wife turned me over her knees and spanked me for the first time. It was great fun, very sexy and we both enjoyed it. Impromptu sex followed, and once done, we had a giggle and worked on a plan to include spanking in our sex life.
My wife finds it easier to initiate some adult fun using the excuse to smack my bum. I am usually sent to the spare room now where there is a straight back armless chair and plenty of room. Minutes later my wife makes her entrance, usually wearing some outfit she knows I like. I am placed across her knee, and smacked gently and slowly for a long time.
Sex always follows – though there have been occasions when we haven’t made it to the bedroom. I am usually told off for this, and recently after we had enjoyed sex she took me by surprise and spanked me again. I found out then that it feels very different after than before sex – very different indeed!
Going back to my spanking from Mum, she never subsequently asked me if I understood why she did what she did, never came to explain or ask me if I was OK. We never discussed it at all – it was like it never happened. The plan worked. though, I was never called names again and was accepted as an equal within our little gang. And Mum knew exactly what she was doing – I understand that now.
Contributor: Vincent