The new paddle

When I turned eight years old, my mother decided that the hairbrush she paddled my bottom with needed to be replaced with an implement that would cause my bottom to hurt more.

My father was a carpenter, so she asked him to make her a paddle with an 8in handle, a spanking part that was 8in wide, 12in long and half an inch thick. She also asked him to drill several holes in it.

When my father finished making the paddle, my mother called me down to the living room and showed it to me. She explained that from now on, I would be spanked with it when I misbehaved. You won’t be surprised to learn that I was so frightened, I was on my best behaviour for a month, and avoided being spanked entirely – more normally I would get the hairbrush about once a week.

But then the day for report cards came. My parents’ rule for me was that I could not get a grade lower than a B if I wanted to avoid a paddling. Unfortunately I always struggled with spelling – and had already almost got my bottom tanned the last time for having poor grades in this subject. Mom told me that next time, I would receive 50 swats for every C grade and if I got a low mark for effort too, I would get a total of 100 swats.

When I got home on that fateful day, Mom greeted me at the door with a hug and a kiss like she always did. Obviously she knew it was report day so she instructed me to hand over my card. I opened up my backpack, took out the sealed envelope and handed it to her.

Mom opened it up and read it, and I could tell just from the look on her face that I was going to be spanked with the new paddle for the first time. The only question was how many swats I was going to receive.

She looked at me. “Tommy, you got three Bs and two As. I’m proud of that. However, I’m disappointed – you only got a C+ in spelling –and your effort grade is also way too low. I guess you know what this means?”

I certainly did, and I immediately began to cry as I realised my bottom was down for 100 swats with that dreaded new paddle. My mother grabbed a tissue off the coffee table and wiped my eyes. She then hugged me and told me to calm down. My mother was always very calm and kind to me even when I was in big trouble.

She then stood up, wrapped her arm around me and led me upstairs to my bedroom. Once we arrived there, she began her normal preparations for a spanking, ordering me to strip completely naked. Then she placed me in the corner and told me to put my hands on my head.

Shortly afterwards I heard the door to my parents room opening, and I knew Mom was fetching the paddle. The next sounds I heard were my mother’s returning high heel shoes clicking on my bedroom floor, then a scraping noise as she pulled out the chair from my homework desk and placed it in the centre of the room.

I heard a further creak as she sat down on the chair, then she instructed me to turn and face her. I saw the new paddle resting in her lap, and I immediately began crying again.

Mom ignored the tears this time and said calmly: “Tommy, you’ve been told the rules. I am going to spank you 50 times now, then you’re going back in the corner until dinner time.

“Once I’ve made dinner, I will come and get you and you can come downstairs to eat with me and your father. Once you’ve eaten, it’s straight back upstairs and into the corner with you until bedtime.

“When it’s time for bed, I will come back up again with the paddle and you will receive 50 more spanks on your bare bottom. Then it will be straight to bed and lying on that spanked bottom!”

The lecture over, she crooked her finger to beckon me towards the maternal lap. As soon as I got close enough she took my left wrist and guided me into the required position. I was already blubbing like a naughty toddler but my tears redoubled as the first swat of that spanking paddle struck my bare backside.

Mom always required me to count the number of swats out loud as I was spanked. I don’t know how I managed it, as the punishment hurt so much, but somehow I did.

By the time the 50 swats had been given, I was just a mess of tears and snot. Mom took a handkerchief out of her apron and dried my tears, then she hugged me close until I calmed down.

After my crying had subsided a bit, she put me back in the corner as promised and left me there, with strict instructions not to rub my by now very sore bottom. I immediately put my hands on my head to show her that I understood the order.

After a while my father returned home. I heard Mom telling him about what had happened and a few minutes later he came up to my room. “Well Tommy,” he said, “that little bottom of yours looks very sore. You know we love you, but you have to try harder in school. Now, do try to stop crying – Mom will be up in a few minutes to fetch you for your dinner.”

Sure enough, Mom came into my room shortly afterwards, put her arm comfortingly around my still naked body and took me down to the dining room. The chairs there had cushions on but mine was taken off that night and I was made to sit my very tender bottom on the hard wood seat.

I prayed for mercy to be shown but as soon as I had finished the last mouthful, Mom came over, took me by the hand and back to my bedroom and that corner I went, hands on head again. Despite my best efforts to be a brave boy, I was still crying quietly from my first spanking.

About half an hour before my usual bedtime, I heard Mom come back into the room and once again sit on my homework chair. She instructed me to turn around again. This time she had both the new paddle, and a tube of cold cream for my bottom.

“Tommy, come and stand by my right side again, please.” With shaking legs I did as I was told. To my surprise, Mom handed me the new paddle. “Hold on to that. Now, bend over my knee again.”

As I took the first chance I’d had to examine my new paddle closely, I heard Mom fiddling with the cream, then her hand on my bare buttocks as she began to rub the cream into them. The cream was soothing – but I knew from experience with the hairbrush that having a moist, oily bottom would make the promised second spanking sting ten times as much!

“Give me the paddle.” With the utmost reluctance, my hand went back behind me and I felt Mom take the instrument of correction from me. There was only a short pause before the wood was put right across my bottom crease – the paddle’s dimensions made it a very efficient tool for spanking both my small buttocks simultaneously. Once again, I was required to count the penalty as it was administered.

When my second paddling was finally over, and my bottom was buzzing like a beehive, Mom once again helped me dry my eyes and hugged me. “You’re done,” she said. “And now you are forgiven for being a naughty boy. Come along…”

She put back the homework chair, then drew back my bed covers and patted the mattress with her hand. I was then made to lay down on my back. “I want you to feel this chastisement, Tommy,” Mom said, “so no lying on your side or your tummy tonight. I’ll be checking on you through the night, and if I catch you on your side or stomach, I will take you out of bed and you will get another dose of the paddle. Is that understood?” I nodded obediently through my tears.

Mom kissed my forehead, bade me goodnight and went back downstairs. That was my first time with the dreaded new paddle but unfortunately for me, it was far from the last.

Contributor: Tommy

All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.