This is the second in a series of memories of a regular reader.
I mentioned that I was spanked as punishment when I was a child. I grew up in suburbia in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Most suburban developments at the time shared a few common characteristics – lots of kids around, most moms stayed at home, and the spanking of children was common and socially acceptable. Mom did 99.9% of the spanking in our house – there was no “just wait until your father gets home.” My development was no exception, but maybe exceptional at least in one way.
One time, four of us kids were playing and had accidentally broken a neighbor’s window, we were all about 8 years old. We ran away and had chosen our house’s basement to hide. From the basement we could hear the phone ringing and my mother’s muffled conversation and several subsequent phone calls dialed and received. Mom came downstairs and asked if we knew anything about a broken window — we foolishly claimed ignorance. She left and we heard some more muffled conversation upstairs.
About 10 minutes later, all four of our moms came down the basement stairs, each carrying their favorite spanking implement – my mom with her paddle, David’s with her worn leather belt, Nancy’s with a hairbrush and lastly Glenn’s carrying 4 switches freshly cut from their weeping willow tree – we all had heard from David why it was called a “weeping” willow!
The moms told us that we were all going to be spanked severely – not because we had broken the window – that was an accident, but for lying about it. We had traded enough notes and stories to know that we were all being spanked at home in similar ways – all moms subscribed to the idea that the number of spanks was equal to your age, all of the moms first delivered a “warm up” by hand and then used their implement of choice and lastly all of them spanked bare. We had not figured out why all of them had convened in our basement WITH their favorite spanking implements, but were soon to find out.
The four of us watched as two moms moved a large table into the center of the basement. We were told to each pick a side of the table and stand facing it. By this time we had figured out that our spankings were going to happen right here and now. We figured we were actually pretty safe since Nancy was there and we assumed that our spankings would be administered over our clothes, surely we would not be bared in mixed company. Then my mom said to the group, “OK kids, get your pants down and fannies bare!” Glenn’s mom protested and said that Nancy should not be required to be naked in front of us boys – Nancy’s mom quickly disagreed and pointed out that she had already “played doctor” with all of us at one time or another and none of us would be seeing anything new (she was right!). Embarrassed looks were traded around the table as we dropped our pants and underwear and quickly covered our young genitals. We were told to bend over the table and not move. They explained we would be given our warm up from our mom, then our mom would give us “age spanks” with their implement, then the moms would shift around the table and spank the next kid, continue until they got back to their own child where they would again deliver age spanks a second time. So I got 8 by hand, 8 by paddle, 8 by belt, 8 by hair brush, 8 by switch, and finally another 8 by paddle from my mom. When they finished there were 4 very red and very sore young fannies around that table! Modesty had flown out the window as the four of us danced around rubbing our burning bottoms. The moms were all complimenting themselves as to what a good job they had done and the merits of their implements.
Once the dancing slowed down and the crying had subsided we were informed that these moms had made a pact – if any of us were seen to be misbehaving in the neighborhood – any one of the moms could spank any one of us with no pre-approval required. This lead to many “group spankings” in the following few years. If you were at another kid’s house and their mom decided that you and her kid needed a spanking – out came the implement, down came the pants and your bottom got warmed right then. I always wanted to be first in these group situations, that way I would be finished and would not have to watch my friend being spanked knowing that I was next. A phone call always followed these neighborly spankings and we all knew we would get another spanking when we got home.
This agreement remained in effect until we all began to enter puberty at which point the moms just “tattled” on us via phone. I’m not positive what happened in other houses, but in mine – my mom got a worn leather belt, a hairbrush and permission to cut switches, so I would get the same implement mix as if I had been spanked at the other house.
I continued to be spanked fairly infrequently at home until I was in college. Mom continued to use her paddle but adopted the use of the belt for more serious offenses – same general arrangement though – always bare, warm up by hand + paddled with “age spanks”, or if really serious – bare, age spanks with paddle + age spanks with belt.
I was usually spanked in the basement where there was a bit more privacy and mom had plenty of space to swing. When she decided I needed a spanking, I was told to “go get ready for a spanking” – protesting was futile. This meant I was to go to the basement, close the windows for privacy, remove my shoes, socks, pants and underwear; retrieve the paddle from the cabinet and wait for her – hoping that she did not bring the belt with her. She would arrive, review my offense and order me to bend over a stool for my spanking – when it was over – all was forgiven and the matter never mentioned again.
I mentioned that she had “switch cutting” privileges at the neighbor’s willow tree – I hated to be switched – that was the worst.
My very last spanking from her was when I was 27 and already 6 or 7 years into a spanking relationship with Wendy, my girlfriend / now wife. Mom and I were at home alone and I said something which really hurt her feelings – I regretted it the instant I said it, even before I saw the hurt in her eyes. I apologized immediately and then sheepishly (foolishly) suggested that she should give me a spanking for it – I don’t know why, it just popped out of my mouth. She thought about it for a moment and then simply said, “go get ready for a spanking”. I told her to bring the belt and to give me a few minutes while I went to Glenn’s (this was a truly crazy decision on my part). She seemed confused but said OK, to call upstairs when I was ready.
I got the clippers and went to the willow tree in Glenn’s yard and hastily cut 3 switches (drat! spotted by Glenn’s mom – who just smiled knowingly and waved…..). Back in the basement I stripped naked below the waist, fetched the stool, set out the paddle and called upstairs. Mom arrived shortly with the belt, I presented her with the switches and she asked why the paddle was out. I explained that I was much older and could handle much more punishment – that she should paddle me first, then use the belt and finish with the switches – 27 strokes each – that I deserved all of it for saying what I did.
I guess she agreed because she laid into me right away with the paddle, used the belt with gusto and the swung the switches with great speed. My burning fanny was crimson and well striped when she was finished! I was right, that was the most severe spanking that I have ever gotten and do not to ever want to repeat it. She gave me a big hug and told me I was a good son. We both said I love you. I collected myself and went back upstairs where we chatted as though nothing had happened, true to form, the incident and the spanking were never mentioned again. Although, I always suspected there was a conversation between my mom and Glenn’s mom! Something casual in the back yards, “Did I see Jim cutting switches a few days ago?”
I remember being very embarrassed at about age 11 by having an erection prior to being spanked by mom – she came down to the basement to deliver my spanking and saw me struggling to hide my erection (hard to do when you are naked from the waist down) – she merely commented – “don’t worry about that, your brother always gets a hard on before his spankings – it won’t last long!” I sometimes got one and sometimes not as I grew older – she never directed any attention to them, but they always embarrassed me when with her.
I did not get an erection when being spanked that last time by my mom – maybe because I knew I had committed to a v-e-r-y unpleasant experience or perhaps it was the context of the whole situation. I know that I was grateful to not have to suffer that embarrassment along with the very painful spanking that I had requested. But, it surprised me at the time since I was in a spanking relationship and whenever I was about to spank Wendy or be spanked by her, I always had a full erection well before any spanking started (and still do!). And who knows, perhaps my preference for being spanked while standing and bent over and my fondness for smallish paddles all goes back to mom – I just know what I like.