For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated with spanking.
I would come up with plans in my head to somehow get a spanking from my mum or grandma but would never follow through.
The most I got was a playful
‘I’ll smack your bottom for you, young man!’
I was obsessed with the subject, always asking questions about spanking.
One day, I went in the kitchen and Mum was washing the dishes.
She was wearing a summer dress and I admired her for a minute, imaging myself draped over her legs getting some good hard smacks.
With this in mind, and hearing grandma in the past talk about how she used to ‘tan her backside’,
I asked Mum what it was like to get your bottom smacked and if she had ever asked for one.
She smirked slighty, dried her hands and sat down at a kitchen chair, motioning me to sit at the table with her.
“Why do you keep asking about this?
Do you want a smacked bottom yourself?
Is that what it is?”
Mum was a pretty good mind-reader.
I went beetroot red and looked down, and she knew right away it wasn’t an idle question.
To be honest,
I didn’t really know myself –
it’s just that, as I say,
I’d always had this interest about spanking.