The part of spanking stories that appeal to me the most is the embarrassment.  I’m not sure why but as long as I can remember, it’s been that way. This story is pretty commonplace – but the aftermath is interesting and that’s where the embarrassment, that makes it so memorable, comes in.

I was in my formative years when this happened.  I was very much in the stage of life that is marked by knowing it all and having a bad attitude. Unfortunately for me, my mother was quite proficient at adjusting attitudes. We got into some argument – I’m not even sure about what now – and she sentenced me to a spanking.  Bent over with hands on the knees, five hard whacks with her old school paddle, followed by me jumping around and hollering.

It was all very normal and, at this difficult stage of my life, pretty commonplace – I found myself getting spanked for my attitude every other week, if not more often.

The afternoon is when this story begins to become more interesting.  I was on the swim team, as I had been for most of my childhood.  I had just gotten moved up to an older age class.

After our first practice, I discovered that nearly everyone on the team had already started to go through the changes of puberty. I had not. . I was extremely self-conscious of this, so I got into the habit of changing as discreetly as possible. I would face the locker, practically leaning into it, then change as quickly as possible.

Most days that was not a problem – but having just had a spanking in the past few hours, my butt was still rosy red. I did not realize how noticeable it would be and changed in my normal fashion, as quickly as I could – which was not quick enough.

I heard from behind me: “Oh my gosh! Did you get a spanking?” It was one of the oldest girls on the team – someone really wanted to impress. I tried to ignore the question – that definitely didn’t work. “Jillian, were you a naughty girl? Did your mommy spank your hiney?” she asked, laughing.

I turned around, hoping to quiet the situation down before my butt became a topic of conversation for the whole team. Another pupil chimed in: “I can’t believe you still get spanked! I haven’t been spanked since I was a little girl. Although,” she added and gestured with her head towards my still prepubescent body, “looks like you still are a little girl, so I guess it fits.”  There was some more laughter and I started to tear up.

Surprisingly, the first girl came to my rescue. “Lay off,” she said. “I bet most of us have had a whipping every once in a while. Tell me what happened.”

I told her that my mother had spanked me, but she wanted more details. She pressed me until I told her that I had mouthed off, that my mother used a paddle, and that I cried. She laughed at me throughout my account, but not really in a mean way – kind of like a big girl teasing her little sister.