The Bridge Game

In my younger days I was spanked quite often in front of company.

‘Misbehave in front of company and you’ll get spanked in front of company’

This was the general rule in our house during the 50s when I grew up.

 

But this one time was by far the most embarrassing punishment I ever received that was witnessed by others.

My mother was a member of a bridge club of eight women that met every Wednesday in alternating homes.

When they congregated at our home, one very hot, humid night in Kansas City, I was ordered, as usual, to stay upstairs and be quiet.

I needed a glass of ice water real bad and risked going downstairs to get one.

It was necessary to pass through the room where they had their card tables set up wearing only underpants and my pyjama bottoms.

When I peeked in and asked permission to get the ice water, I was rebuffed and told to drink from the bathroom faucet.

I said that the water was too warm and I wanted some water from the fridge.

My mom was always very strict about talking back, so she called me to her and slapped my face, then sent me to the corner to wait until their current game was completed.

I went immediately, without question, knowing from past experience it only made my punishment worse.

Corner time always preceded an inevitable spanking.

My mom and her friends continued their bridge game, all the while discussing how they each spanked their naughty children for talking back.

I’m in the corner sweating from the oppressive heat and the coming spanking and listening to how some of their offspring got it much worse than I ever did.

This continued for about the next 20 minutes.

I heard how many spanks each of their offspring would get.

What was the preferred implement was.

In what position they were placed, and so on.

My mom usually preserved a little of my modesty once she had me over her knees in front of company.

 

It never occurred to me that my mom was inspired by their conversation to show off her spanking capabilities.

After the game, she slid back in her chair and called me to her.

I went meekly, begging her to forgive me and not spank me in front of everybody.

This was to no avail.

She continued to scold me thoroughly for about five minutes.

 

She grabbed my arm and yanked me over her knees.

Holding on, she began one of the fastest barrages of full-armed spanks she ever delivered to my clenching, squirming bottom.

When I reached back for some respite, she spanked my thighs just as soundly.

She would always say that me covering my bottom must mean I would rather get it on my thighs.

My bottom definitely magnified the stinging to become completely unbearable.

A normal spanking from my mom meant 40 hard spanks.

The severity was determined by what she used.

She used anything that was flat or flexible.

Being caught in a lie about misbehavior would double the spanking.

However, this was done with time in the corner between applications.

This time she didn’t stop.

Mom kept up the furious volley of spanks till I lost count.

It seemed to go on forever.

I was told to stand up.

Bawling from the spanking I had just received, I was told to go and fetch Mother favourite wooden spoon.

Shuffling, I went out to the kitchen to get the spoon

When I returned, the women were all commenting on how good a spanking my mom had administered.

Mom informed them all that, that was just the beginning.

I was sent to the corner again and ordered to hold the wooden spoon in both hands.

This was whilst they all got refreshments.

I stood there sobbing the whole time.

When they all returned, I was again ordered front and center.

Again my mom put me back over her knee

 

With the wooden spoon, mom started in with a flurry of spanks all over my bottom and upper thighs.

I soon forgot all about the seven women watching whilst I kicked and twisted as much as possible.

 

Mom slowed down to a steady, and harder, pace.

She made certain that I was well and truly spanked.

Scolding accompanied this stage, along with promises from me to never talk back again.

When the spanking finally ceased, I was made to apologise to the women for disturbing them.

I humbly and gladly exited the room when allowed.

As I left the room I could hear the comments, all the way up the stairs about how well I had been spanked.