I always find it quite amazing the shifts in attitudes. Where parent’s teachers, Aunties, uncles, Grandmothers, neighbors, friends of the family all used to talk openly about smacking bottoms, say 30 or so years back, they wouldn’t dare today because they know there is an element that is undoubtedly dare I say it, sexual.
One of the instances that has come to my mind whilst reading the postings is that of my aunt Sheila, who once threatened to pull my trousers down at a family party and smack me. This is going back in 1980 or 1979.
She was totally unaware of what this would do to me personally. Eventually, I managed to manipulate Saturday afternoon visits whilst she was alone for spanking games.
I wrote all the following Passage in 2003
. Now, if you don’t mind, please give me a while to explain as this relationship is a little complex.
Aunty Sheila was not actually an aunt.
By the time I was into double figures, my mother had remarried again to a bloke who, for argument’s sake we will call big ears.
Big Ears had an older brother whom for argument’s sake, we can call Bigger Ears.
Bigger Ears had a common law wife (meaning they weren’t married but living in sin, frowned upon in those days, I can tell you), and her name was Sheila.
But to me, she was Aunty Sheila. Why you may ask. Wel,l basically because they were adults and I was not.
Now Aunty Sheila was the type of person who would of made a top dominatrix without a doubt and made a fortune at it (That if you like the battleaxe sort)
Aunty Sheila also had a son who we will call “Poor Michael.” If you want to know why he was called “Poor Michael,” well, alas, it was because he was forever getting clumped round the head by either
Aunty Sheila or her common law husband, Bigger Ears,
I sometimes wonder how Poor Michael actually escaped without permanent brain damage.
Big Ears, who Ill remind you was my stepfather (Desperate to live out his David Copperfield bastard stepfather fantasies out and failing dismally each time) he looked up to his bigger brother, who had bigger ears. I think they used to have these competitions between themselves, like “Who could upset somebody else’s children first and clump the hardest?”
But, enough, this is getting away from the actual story, and I’m not writing this to whinge about the unjustified indignities I sometimes suffered as a child, and besides, there were always people who suffered
more.
The trouble with in-laws, outlaws and all the other laws is that they always seemed to be habitual nosey parkers. If say for instant, I did something wrong as a child, an in law would always take it upon themselves to correct my misdeed.
Now, having a new family thrust upon me at a tender age only added to the list of people who could not for the life of them mind their own business.
Anyway we are one night at big ear s mother’s house for a Christmas Party. I don’t know what it is I had done wrong that night (as I always claimed my total innocence under these circumstances) but apparently I might have just been a touch over lippy to a few of the really boring grown-ups.
So, because as my long suffering mother goes I was beyond parental control, in steps Aunty Sheila, having probably just freshly clumped poor Michael. This hulk of a lady takes me to a little corner and
quietly says to me something along the lines of
“I am going to give you one warning and one warning only. Misbehave once more this evening and I will take your trousers and pants down and smack your bottom in front of everyone”.
By the look on her face I did not for one moment think she was messing about,
infact judging by what poor Michael use to have to go through I would lay on a bet that she was very bloody serious and I was not about to take the risk in finding out.
However by this age I was already a fully into my spanking scenarios to the extent there was no turning back whatsoever.
So having this little threat thrust upon me really made my little imagination run riot about games me and Aunty Sheila could play in the future.
I started to look upon Aunty Sheila in a different light. It seems that we would visit Bigger Ears and Aunty Sheila every Saturday Night.
Whilst the Adult would sit about watching a boring film on the television occasionally having jolly topical conversations about smacking their off spring I would be eyeing Aunty Sheila’s Slippers and her ample lap thinking yes please.
Aunty Sheila started developing a soft spot for me (SUSPECT) probably because she saw traits of her own son in me (That’s not true I was a lot better dressed and I totally refused to wear Jesus sandals.
She started to make suggestion that I should come over on a Saturday afternoon and we could go shopping (I swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth). “YYYYYYEEEESSSSSSSS, I’ve Scored” I would now be able to visit Aunty Sheila and devise spanking games with her.
