I love your site, and as a contribution I thought I’d share my own experiences growing up in the Chicago area in the 1970s and early 1980s.
My first spanking is lost to the fog of time, but I clearly remember lying over my mother’s lap to be spanked, and while not frequent it was certainly not rare. She would spank me and my little sister out in the living room, and going over her knee filled me with shame and regret. You would lie over her knee as she sat on the couch in the front room, in full view of everyone. She would scold you and smack you a few times, definitely an unmistakeable punishment.
I don’t remember if she pulled our pants down or not. I think she didn’t, because this was done in public. At the time we lived with our grandmother, and I remember both her and my aunt watching me put across my mother’s lap for a spanking. It was really no big deal to anyone, except the little one who was receiving it!
We moved to our own house in second grade, and this coincided with a big escalation in corporal punishment for both me and my little sister, who was only 18 months younger. The event which marked this escalation was me breaking a lamp in our front room.
I remember my mother sitting down and grasping both my hands as I stood in front of her. She asked me if I had broken the lamp by accident or on purpose. “Tell the truth, young man!” she said sternly.
Now, at that age I didn’t really know what ‘on purpose’ meant – but I knew accidents were bad. So I replied: “On purpose.” My mother’s expression didn’t change. “I am very glad that you told the truth. But now you still have to be punished.”
I was pretty sure that meant a spanking, and it was too late to protest that it really was an accident. She continued her lecture: “Rules and consequences have been far too lax around here. If I had broken a lamp on purpose, your grandmother would have taken a hairbrush to my bare butt. I’m not going to use a hairbrush, but you are getting a pants-down spanking.”
With that, she turned me around and planted a solid swat across my rear. Then, in what was to become our punishment ritual from then on, I was sent upstairs to my parents’ bedroom. I was made to stand facing the wall, pants and underwear pulled down to my ankles.
My mother sat down on the parental bed and called me over to her. I was placed in the familiar over-the-lap position, this time with my bare butt perilously close to her hard palm. She raised her arm and smacked me hard 10 times. Then I was allowed to pull up my pants, get a hug and go back downstairs.
And that’s how it went for the rest of elementary school. It mostly happened for lying, and I still remember contemplating the paint grain of the wall in my parents’ room as I stared at the wall, my bare butt waiting to be spanked pretty hard.
My little sister got the same treatment, only she jokingly complains now that she got an additional 18 months of bare bottom spankings since Mom started with her at age six and continued to 11!
Both of us were reprieved from corporal punishment once we left elementary school. I think mom raised us right!
Contributor: Anonymous