I’m sure most of us have been embarrassed by our mothers at one time or another, and my own mother caused me much embarrassment at a family celebration fairly recently. There was, however, a happy ending.
Our family was enjoying a day in the in-laws garden, celebrating a wedding anniversary. There was a little boy running around in a pair of bright red shorts, and my mother seemed rather taken with him.
A group of mixed age adults, myself included, were sitting at a table eating and drinking and having a very nice time. Then my mother then piped up: “That little boy in the red shorts reminds me so much of Jason at that age.” Oh no, I thought – here we go! My wife, knowing I hate this sort of thing, grinned at me.
Then it happened. mother smiled at my Aunt Susie and said: “Jason used to run up to me and Sue and ask for a smacked bottom! Do you remember, Sue?” I tried to nip it in the bud. “mother! They don’t want to know!” I pleaded. But Aunt Susie just nodded. “I do indeed,” she replied, giving me one of those knowing looks.
Of course, the whole bloody table then begged mother to carry on with her story. Well, all except me – I just wanted the ground to swallow me up there and then! I started to get up but my wife grabbed my hand and insisted I stay.
With everyone now thoroughly enjoying my embarrassment, mother continued to turn the screw. “He used to run to Susie, get a pat on his cute little bottom and then back to me for another, laughing his socks off, bless!” My brother-in-law asked mother if this was when I was five or 25! Oh, how I laughed – not. Naturally, everyone else thought it was hysterical.
“That’s enough of the past, thanks, mother,” I said, losing my sense of humour. Did she take the hint? Of course not. She then brought up an even worse memory. Apparently, I walked up to mother aged six and asked her to smack my bottom for saying a rude word. When mother asked what rude word I had used, I became tongue-tied. I couldn’t think of any rude word that would be bad enough to warrant a smacked bottom.
Some of the other women started to join in the fun, helpful comments like: “Well I would have smacked his bottom for being so naughty.” “Oh, me too,” another added. “I’d have had his trousers down in a jiffy and warmed his little backside up.” Oh the laughter, oh my embarrassment! I tried in vain to explain I was only six but just got shouted down. Even my younger nieces and nephews were laughing at me.
Meanwhile, mother carried on remorselessly. “Because he seemed so keen on having his bottom smacked, I used to use it to my advantage. I would promise him one at bedtime if he behaved, or ate his vegetables. Worked every time! And most of the time I didn’t even need to smack him because by bedtime he was so sleepy he’d forgotten all about it!” I felt my toes curling at this revelation.
Aunt Susie turned to my wife and said: “There you go, Paula – if he doesn’t eat his veg, you know what to do!” Paula got a lot of encouragement from all round the table. My wife grinned and agreed. “Going to be a few changes in our house from now on!” More laughter and several crude remarks best left unrepeated.
Crucially, at that point, nobody knew I actually did enjoy having my bottom smacked – not even my wife. As always,mother had to have the last word. “Ah, he was so cute – such a happy little boy!” Yeah, not so happy today, I thought.
I was, of course, teased without mercy for the rest of the day. Several of the women threatened to smack my ‘cute little bottom’ or would remark: :Now, be a good boy, Jason – unless you want a smacked bottom!” One particular comment from a niece made me think she was definitely interested in spanking, saucy girl. Her fella looked a little sheepish, I thought. It must be said, I wasn’t terribly happy with my mother that day.
Fortunately, there was another incident in my past that no-one at that gathering knew about. Aged seven I attended a mate’s birthday party, run by his mother and either female relatives or other mothers. There were a fair few children there too, well into double figures.
We had eaten some food and were awaiting the big moment – the birthday cake and singing happy birthday. When that was done, my mate’s mother started to cut the cake. One of the other ladies clapped her hands to bring us all to order. She then asked in a fun way: “Who would like a piece of cake, and who would like a smacked bottom!”
It was just a fun aside, there was a chorus of “cake please.” Me being me, bit of a daredevil, asked if I could have both! The lady laughed and said “Oh, of course you can, darlin’ – would you like your smacked bottom before or after your cake?”
There was much giggling. “Before, please!” I answered quite cheekily.
The lovely lady obliged. In front of the other children, she asked a girl if she could borrow her chair for a moment. The little girl stood, the lady sat and patted her knees hard twice. “Right then, young man, come here!” The other children quietened down a bit as I stepped up.
The lady lifted me easily up and across her knees. “One smacked bottom for Mister , and then some cake!” This reminded me of the fun and games with mother and Aunt Susie. I looked around as far as I could to look at my mates as the lovely lady smacked my bottom a few times over my shorts.
“What do you think, children?” she asked. “Is that enough, or should I give him some more?” Ask any group of kids in that situation and there’s only one answer, of course. So she gave me a few more smacks, leaving no more than the slightest of tingles in my shorts. “Shall I finish with a good hard one?” she asked my friends. Guess what the answer was.
She counted ‘one, two, three’ then gave me a good hard smack, the first of my life! The children laughed, I laughed and the ladies serving cake laughed! The lady gave me a huge cuddle and told me that anytime I wanted a smacked bottom, I could feel free to come and ask her! She stood up and said: “Oh, I did enjoy that!”, making all the adults laugh.
My spanking, such as it was, rather upstaged my friend’s birthday. He was virtually forgotten as all the children wanted to know about my smacked bottom.
I never told anyone about this particular moment, not even my mother when she asked afterwards whether I had enjoyed the party. I think that maybe I was becoming aware that spanking was a pleasurable experience?
I did mention there was a happy ending to that day of embarrassment. By then I was 32, and it had been a long time since I had enjoyed wiggling across a pair of maternal knees.
But when we got home, my wife began to tease me about my discomfort. I was still pretending to be a bit grumpy about it. Finally, Paula slipped her arms around me and kissed me. “Go to your room,” she instructed. “You’ve been a very naughty boy using such bad words in the car coming home (most of them aimed at my mother, I should add!).”
Then she added: “I will be up in five minutes and you had better be ready for bed, young man.” She touched her finger to my nose. “When I come up, I’m going to put you across my knee and smack your bottom for being such a naughty boy.” With that, she turned me away and send me on my way with a smack to the seat of my trousers.
Well, of course I complied. As I had always kept such thoughts private, we had never played like this before. It was suddenly tremendously exciting.
So up she came, and after giving me a good telling off, she put me across her knees for the first time ever. The spanking she administered was short and sweet. Not hard – but enough to make another part of me very hard. Paula stood me up and looked at my little soldier standing to attention. “Oh!” she said with a hint of wonder in her voice. “You do like that, don’t you!”
I am regularly spanked in the bedroom for fun now. My wife is a quick learner and has a firm hand. So although my mother caused me a lot of embarrassment for me that day, things turned out very well in the end.
My biggest fear is if the subject ever comes up again and my wife lets something slip. God forbid!
