Whenever I visited my friend house, I would check out his mother. She had a habit of wearing jeans or jean shorts with a black leather belt that she always left unbuckled. I am not sure if she did it on purpose but I kept imagining her pulling that belt from its loops if she was fixing to whip my friend or his older sister.

I knew that my friend always stayed with his father every other week, so I dreamed up a scheme to find a reason to visit when he wasn’t home, and perhaps confess to something that would get me spanked.

So it was that one weekend, I rang the bell. My friend’s mother came to the door and invited me in, with a smile and a hard swat on my bottom as I walked past her into the hall.

She looked at me in an amused fashion and said: “John, you do know your buddy isn’t home this weekend?” I nodded. “So why are you here?” she asked. I made some lame excuses about seeing if she needed something from the store – but she could not help but notice that I wasn’t taking my eyes off that belt.

She took me into the living room, where my friend’s grandmother was seated. She also greeted me warmly. By now, I was almost dying of shyness but my friend’s mother took control of the situation. She put me on her generous lap, cradling me.
Gently but persistently, she teased out of me the reason for my visit. I burst into tears as I admitted that I liked being spanked and was very ashamed of my desire.

She shushed me gently and lovingly. “You know, John, many grown men also want or need to be spanked. Did you know that?” I shook my head. “All you need to promise me is to always be open with me, OK?” Another nod. “And if you’ve been a naughty boy, I want you to come around to tell me all about it, and I will discipline you. Do you understand?” Another nod. “It will hurt you very much and will last a long time.”

She looked across at her own mother. “Mother, I think this naughty little boy needs some attention right now. We won’t be long.” She stood me up and took me by the hand to lead me upstairs. The older woman gave me an indulgent, knowing look as we left the room which made me blush hard.

Once in her bedroom, I watched transfixed as my friend’s mother carefully took the belt from around her waist, folded it, and then placed it on her lap. She beckoned to me, and I obediently stepped forward. Then I was put over that broad maternal lap.

Downstairs, I’m sure the old lady could tell exactly what was going on, as the only sounds to be heard in the house were those of leather against my bottom, my spanker scolding me and me crying hard as she gave me what I needed that day.