Growing up in Missouri, I got spanked pretty much every day – but then, so did all the others around me.
Mostly, the spanking would be of the most informal kind – I often got a swat on the seat of my jeans for sassing a grown-up or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
However, things could get more formal and serious if I was judged to have deserved it. I would get a proper bottom spanking around once a fortnight. Mother
put me over her knee and spank my bottom with a spoon until my buttocks were really red and sore.
There were other grown-ups who spanked me, too. Father whipped us with his belt now and again – also on the bottom – but that wasn’t a common punishment.
I remember once when I misbehaved at her house, my Aunt Joyce made me cut a peach switch right there in her yard – she then switched my bottom! She whipped me until the switch broke into several pieces, but by then I was howling and my bottom was a mess of thin red lines.
Corporal punishment was common in schools too I grew up. I got paddled three times – once in fourth grade and twice as a freshman.
When Mother found out about my misbehaviour, she followed up by spanking my butt herself. To put the lid on a thoroughly miserable day, when Father got home he whooped me with the belt too. Boy, I was so sore – but I sure learned my lesson.
My grandma was generally more indulgent with us younger ones – she did like to pat our bottoms and give them a little pinch now and again – that was fine, unless we’d just been spanked!
However, Grandma wasn’t above giving us proper chastisement. One time, my ) and I stayed with GrandMother for a couple of weeks after Mother had surgery and Father was looking after her.
One day, us girls thought it would be fun to jump around on our bed, and we ended up breaking it. Well, GrandMother was mad as a box of snakes! She , took off her sandal, and both us girls were put over her knee for a very sound spanking indeed with it. We were put in time out immediately afterwards – being subject to such a sanction at what I considered a ‘grown-up’ age was highly embarrassing – but not nearly as embarrassing at the thought that GrandMother had seen (and spanked) my bottom for the first time since I was a baby.
She left us both in the corner, spanked bottoms on show and hands on heads. I vividly remember the throbbing in my bottom left by the sandal, and the sight of my sister’s small scarlet bottom out of the corner of my eye. The colouring in my own buttocks didn’t fully disappear for a couple of days.
Looking back, there wasn’t a spanking I got that I didn’t deserve, and we were brought up right, unlike many of the little monsters I see out in public with their parents these days.
