It might be stating the obvious, but to anyone raised with spankings during childhood, no two punishments were ever really alike. Spankings are experienced differently depending on the context – family, school or extracurricular –but also your age at the time, the location, whether the chastisement was administered in private or public, and again, whether members of the opposite sex were present or not.
Personally, I’ve experienced various types of spanking, both as the giver and the receiver. For my own mother, a spanking for her children could range from a few slaps on our covered behinds to a long and severe bare-bottomed punishment.
She would begin by reprimanding the child to be punished, either alone or in front of their siblings, before spanking them. When these same siblings received a spanking immediately afterwards, the tanning was generally shorter but just as intense, ending with the punished children being put in the corner.
My memory of the spankings I received alone and in private remains very vivid. They were among the most severe reprimands I ever experienced. My mother would usually sit in my desk chair and make me stand facing her. Then she would look me straight in the eyes for a long time, explaining in detail the reasons for the spanking.
After making sure that I understood what was happening and why, she would pull down all my lower clothing – trousers, pyjamas, underpants. Then everything happened very quickly, whether lying across her lap as a little boy or (as I grew older, bigger and heavier) bent over her knee, my stomach resting on one thigh.
Then began a long and resounding spanking that neither my tears nor my pleas could shorten. I dreaded these interminable spankings, but they certainly discouraged me from repeating the experience – at least until the next time I forgot and was a naughty boy!
I only ever witnessed spankings in my family as a spectator, especially those my aunt gave her children. She, too, would give them a proper spanking, but hers had the advantage of being shorter. My cousins would be allowed up get from the mother’s lap after just a few minutes – but nevertheless to their great shame, since the spanking was always given on their bare bottoms and in front of the whole family.
By contrast, I didn’t experience any spankings at school, though I did get my bottom smacked at a summer camp I attended when I was 11 years old. These were administered by the camp’s counsellors, almost exclusively girls, and were memorable for that exact reason.
Of course, with hindsight, it’s probably true that they were getting a sexual kick out of being in charge of such discipline. I escaped such censure for a long time, merely wondering what happened to the naughty kids a counsellor took away in private for breaking curfew. The same children would return a bit later, faces tear-stained and suddenly quiet and strangely obedient.
Then, one day, I broke curfew myself and had my epiphany. I found myself in front of a panel of three girls who alternated between sternness and laughter, asking me why I’d been so rowdy. The most daring girl of the three crouched down in front of me, grabbed the elastic of my pyjamas and pulled them down to my ankles as I struggled to hold back my tears. She then made me lift my feet, one after the other, to completely remove my bottoms. I wore no underpants beneath, so I was now bare bottomed.
The girl waved my pyjama bottoms in my face. “These are being confiscated for a while to make you think,” she said, while the other two girls giggled. “Now, get on your knees and face the wall until you calm down!”
After about 15 minutes of exposing my naked bottom to the ironic gaze of these three young ladies, who meanwhile remarked on everything from my bare white buttocks to my little penis.
Finally, the same girl who had bared me took me by the arm and made me stand in front of them all again, everything still on show. With a twinkle in her eye, she inquired: “Jérôme, have you ever been spanked?”
With a blushing red face, I admitted reluctantly that yes, I was no stranger to a smacked bottom off my mother. The admission made all three girls laugh out loud. The one who had undressed me persisted: “How do you get it? Tell us!”
It felt like my face was on fire by now, so deeply was I blushing. “Um, over her lap.” “Does your mom take your pants off first?” I nodded miserably. I thought of myself as a ‘big boy’ by now but here I was admitting to three girls not that much older than me that I still got my bare bottom smacked like a toddler.
My inquisitor reached out and took hold of my pyjama top. “Well, with us, it’ll be completely naked,” she said, suiting the action to the word.
Now naked as the day I was born, I was then ordered to lie across each of the girls’ laps in turn. Their soft hands rested on my quivering bottom as they reprimanded me, then they smacked me, alternating between each of my cheeks, my buttocks vibrating under their adolescent hands. The spankings they gave me were nowhere near as painful as those my mother gave me, but for a boy of my age they were far more humiliating.
Contributor: Jérôme