My spankings at home were relatively rare, not a weekly occurrence or anything like that. I think it was the knowledge that the person spanking (Mum or Dad or once, my grandmother) was going to deliberately hurt me (we’re not talking serious injury here, it was slipper, hairbrush or hand – never anything that left marks beyond temporary pinkness). When you hurt yourself by accident however much it hurts, it’s always completely unexpected and non-deliberate – falling over and skinning my knees while I was on my roller skates or whatever never stopped me from roller skating again.
But the prospect of a spanking and the fact that I knew my parents WOULD spank if I was really out of line, was the most terrifying thing even though skinning my knees, spraining my wrist while climbing a tree I’d been told not to climb (!) etc were far more lastingly painful.