From the age of 11, it was almost a weekly event for either Mark, my stepbrother, or myself to have our bottoms smacked.
Many of these punishments were instant spankings there and then, and usually took place in the lounge. Mother would simply hit out at us, usually landing one or two good hard smacks across our trousered bottoms. If she missed, because we turned away or tried to avoid her slaps, then she would make sure by wrapping her left arm around our waist and applying several good spanks.
I must admit that Mark got spanked a lot more than I did, many times because of me. I was rather wicked and got him into trouble on purpose many times, just to enjoy the spectacle of his bottom being spanked.
However, when I was almost 13, I was caught out. I had succeeded in getting Mark – who was now nine – the longest and hardest bare bottom spanking of his life, when I lied that he had put a lit match through a neighbour’s letterbox. I remember mother saying that if she’d got a cane, Mark would have had it there and then – but she hadn’t, so he was given an over-the-lap spanking.
The next day, a neighbour told my mother that she had seen me playing with matches and had seen me put one through a nearby letterbox. When I arrived home, I knew I was in trouble when mother said: “Get up to your room and get your pyjamas on at once.”
When she came to my room, she told me what the neighbour had said and I denied it, trying to lie my way out of it. I was given a long lecture about my wickedness and told that I was to be spanked like Mark was, and then tomorrow she was getting a proper cane to ‘thrash my bottom’ with.
The spanking that followed left me sore and sobbing. I was left on my bed, not allowed to wear my pyjama trousers, feeling so sorry for myself. The next day, I really didn’t believe that I would be caned, so when Mother came in carrying a short length of bamboo, I was horrified.
After tea, it happened. I was told to go into the front room – never used except for special occasions – and to take my trousers off. I pleaded with her not to be caned, but to no avail.
I was told to bend over the arm of the settee – I was allowed to keep my underpants on. She gave me four strokes. They seemed to take ages, as she lectured me between the strokes. I was warned that if I was ever to get Mark into trouble by lying again, I would get my bare bottom caned.