The smacks from Mum’s now very warm hand continued, and by now I was crying and kicking my feet.

I knew it was no use asking her to stop, because I was getting what she promised.

The sound of efficient smacking echoed around the room as I cried.

To my incredible relief, Mum finally put an end to my punishment.

I lay limp over her knee.

She told me how proud of me she was of me, and even though my backside was throbbing I was still happy it had happened at last.

After a few minutes, she asked:

“Are you ready to get up now?”

“Yes, Mum.”

She helped me to my feet and we cuddled for a while.

Then she told me:

“If you ever need to be spanked again, all you have to do is ask!” I blushed again –

I’d had quite enough for the time being.

However, that was the first of many trips over my mum’s knee over the next few years.

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