I received a couple of letters from a reader named Darryl recounting some of his childhood spanking experiences. I, like many spankos I believe, am fascinated by this sort of thing. He allowed me to reproduce it here. I hope you enjoy reading it as I have. More of my comments on it below [in red].
Hi Julie,
I apologize for the length of what follows. I got carried away. Don’t feel that you have to read it if it bores you. [Heaven’s no!]
Overview of Spanking in Our House
There were five kids: I had a brother and three sisters. I think sibling rivalry was intense because we were closely grouped in age. We all got spanked from early childhood to the verge of adolescence, but I believe my brother and I got it much worse than my sisters, either because my parents thought girls should be treated more gently or because the behaviour of boys actually merits harsher and more regular discipline. [who cares about yucky boys anyways ;-)]
My father worked long hours away from home, so my mother handled most of the discipline. Most spankings consisted of a few quick smacks to the seat of the pants, when she was breaking up sibling squabbles, for example. Sometimes she used her hand, but more often a large wooden spoon. If she was angrier she would use a doubled up strap. Sometimes, if we were in more serious trouble, she would spank us more formally, over the knee, sometimes baring our bottoms. [Nothing less than you deserved, I’m sure, Darryl]
In the worst case, my mother would say, “Wait until your father gets home.” That threat was mainly directed at us boys, as my mother usually handled the girls herself. Waiting for our father to get home was frightening because we knew it meant a harsh strapping with his belt, usually with our pants down. [Yes!] The belt hurt terribly even when he didn’t bare our bums, so I’m not sure why he added that humiliation of to a punishment that was already painful and humiliating. I suppose it indicated different degrees of displeasure.
My brother and I would make a dash for our rooms when my father took off his belt. That wasn’t to escape punishment but to try to have some degree of privacy. If he caught hold of us before we escaped, however, he might haul our pants down on the spot, which meant our sisters could see. Even if we made it to our rooms, my father wouldn’t close the door when he came in, so I always felt terribly exposed. Additionally, our house was one of the main places where kids from the neighbourhood came to play or hang out, so I always feared that my sisters’ friends might see or hear. [I would have taken every opportunity to be over there!]
On one occasion when I was 6 or 7, one of my sisters came into the kitchen with some friends just as my father had hauled my pants down. Instead of retreating they made their way silently around the perimeter of the kitchen on the way to the basement rec room as my father strapped me. [watching your bare bum intently]
On one occasion when I was 6 or 7, one of my sisters came into the kitchen with some friends just as my father had hauled my pants down. Instead of retreating they made their way silently around the perimeter of the kitchen on the way to the basement rec room as my father strapped me. [watching your bare bum intently]
Gender Inequality in Spankings
I don’t know how my sisters feel about it, but I’m sure spanking was way more humiliating for us boys. I don’t think I ever saw one of my sisters get it from my dad the way my brother and I did. I think part of it may also have been a simple consequence of wardrobe differences between boys and girls.
If one of the girls got an over-the-knee spanking wearing a skirt, dress, or nightgown, the garment would be flipped out and they would get it on their panties. The may have been a concession to female modesty. But maybe it was purely practical. Panties are skin tight and thin, so they don’t offer any insulation from a spanking. Because boys underpants are looser, they would often come down together with our pants. Or if we were wearing pyjamas, those pyjama bottoms with elastic waistbands would come down quickly and easily and there would be nothing underneath.
My Earliest Spanking Memory
I just realized that the first spanking I remember distinctly was actually a play spanking. I must have been spanked earlier because the game would not have made sense otherwise, but I don’t have any clear memory of any specific earlier spankings.
Because there were five kids close together in age, we had baths in pairs when we were small. Usually, I had my bath with my brother, but in this instance I was in the bath with my sister who was a year older. I don’t think I could have been more than 4 because I don’t think my mother would have put my sister in the tub with me if she was more than 5 or so. I say that because I had a fully developed sense of shame about nudity, even around my sisters, by the time I started school.
My mother had left us in the tub together, while she went to get my younger sisters settled for the night. My sister suggested that we should play a game where she would be “the mother fish” and I would be “the baby fish”. I asked her how to play, and she said we should pretend that I had been “a bad fish”, so she had to spank me. She sat sideways in the tub with her legs crossed and got me to float into position across her lap, face down. (Okay, I know that fish have neither bums nor hands, but being in the water was enough for it to make sense to us). Then she gave me a play spanking, her hand loudly smacking my wet bum. I recall she told me that “all the fish in the school were watching.” (I suppose she got the school idea from the expression, “a school of fish”). [Awwww!]
I found the game extremely exciting, and I began to squirm across her lap, discovering that the friction against the skin of her thighs was very pleasurable. After the spanking, she was amused to see that my penis had become erect, a phenomenon that was mysterious to both of us.
Later, I continued the game on my own in bed, pulling my pyjama bottoms down and squirming against the smooth sheets, pretending that I was being spanked on my “bare bum” in front of the “fish school.” I believe I discovered how to masturbate that night, and I connected those pleasurable sensations to the shame of being spanked. (I was actually able to have dry orgasms that way, as a little kid). [naughty naughty]
A F/fm Spanking
This memory may be a year or so later. My sister (the same one) and I picked a bunch of tulips from an elderly neighbour’s garden to make a bouquet for our mother. By the time we got home, my mother had a received a phone call from the angry woman who had spotted us as we left the garden. Our mother must have been mortified that her kids had ruined the neighbour’s tulip display, so serious punishment was called for. I seem to recall that my sister tried to put the blame on me. LOL But my mother would have none of that. She pulled a chair out from the kitchen table then took first my sister and then me over her lap for a dose of the folded belt on our bare bottoms. Then she marched the two us, still puffy-eyed and sniffling from the spanking, down the street to apologize to the neighbour. [Should have made you show her the damage, naughty tulip destroyers!]
I Get Spanked Outdoors
I must have been five or six. We visited my grandparents’ farm during the summer, and I was fascinated by a mousetrap I found in the woodshed off the back of the kitchen. My mother and grandmother both told me to keep away from it. The morning we left to go home, however, I stole the mousetrap. I guess it didn’t fit into the pocket of my shorts, so I stuffed it down the front of my pants. (I know. Yuck!) The first part of the car ride was uncomfortable because the corners of the mousetrap dug into me.
We stopped at a park with a large, crowded picnic area for lunch. While we were at the picnic table, my mother noticed that I was uncomfortable trying to sit down, and I guess she noticed me trying to adjust the position of the mousetrap inside my pants. She asked me what I had in my pants. I told her I had nothing. When she came towards me to investigate, I tried to escape, but she caught me a few paces from the table. She knelt down and unsnapped the front of my shorts. As she began to lower my shorts, I struggled to stop her, partly to prevent her from finding the stolen trap, but also because I was embarrassed to have my pants pulled down in a crowded picnic area.
When she found the mousetrap, she was angry and disgusted, angry because I had disobeyed her command to not touch it and because I had stolen it from my grandparents, disgusted because it was, as she said, “dirty”. Outdoor spankings were not unheard of, but usually an outdoor spanking would be on the seat of the pants. I suppose, however, that since my mother was really angry and my pants were already half way down, she figured modesty be damned and yanked my pants and underwear the rest of the way down. Then she wrestled me to a face down position across one knee and spanked me with her hand, scolding me in a loud, angry manner that must have attracted the attention of everyone at the surrounding tables.
When I returned to the table, my siblings had poker faces under the eyes of my parents. But they later teased me about getting spanked “on the bare bum” in front of lots of people, and they gleefully reported it to their friends when we got home. [Just punishment, appropriately meted out]
A Younger Sister Gets It
One of my sisters who was perhaps 8 at the time had learned how to belch loudly, and she liked to amuse her friends and siblings with her skill. My mother, however, warned her that it was a very bad habit to develop because she might forget herself and do it in an embarrassing situation. My mother’s warning proved prophetic. Our church pastor, his wife, and their two sons were at our place for Sunday dinner. Forgetting herself, my sister belched loudly at the table in the middle of supper. There was a horrified silence. Then my father quietly said that if she couldn’t behave in a proper manner at the table, she could go to her room. She didn’t wait to be told twice.
After the main course, my mother began to clear the dishes, and my father excused himself from the table to go have a talk with my sister. After an expectant silence, we could hear the sound of a spanking. A few minutes later, my sister returned to the table, red-faced and teary-eyed, and apologized to our guests for her rudeness. [must have been terribly embarrassing for the poor dear]
My Worst Spanking Ever
This happened when I was 13 or 14. The mother of my best friend caught my friend and me smoking in their attic. She was furious because of both the health and fire risks. She told my friend that he was in for severe punishment from his father, and then she sent me home, warning me that she was going to call my parents.
My mind raced the whole way of the short walk home. I knew I was in big trouble because smoking would be a really big deal to my parents. My father’s father had died of lung cancer a couple of years previously, and my father had warned us kids at that time that if he ever found out any of us had started smoking we “wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.” That was his stock phrase when he threatened harsh punishment.
[Wow – what a walk home, knowing that you had a severe belt whipping on the bare coming…]
It was Saturday afternoon, and my father often worked Saturdays, so I was hopeful he wouldn’t be home. In that case, my mother would have received the phone call, and maybe I would be able to persuade her not to tell my father. As I rounded the corner and turned up our street, I could see my father’s car in the driveway. Shit! [Now you’re ‘gonna get it!]
I considered briefly turning around and not going home right away, but that would probably make things worse. And there was an additional consideration. Two of my girl cousins, Cheryl and Nancy, were staying with us for a couple of weeks. Cheryl was two years older than me, and Nancy was my age. Getting punished while they were there would be beyond humiliating. But maybe they, and at least a couple of my sisters, would be out for the afternoon, so it might be better to get this out of the way immediately. [A forlorn hope, I am imagining, ha ha!]
As I approached the house, I saw movement at the front window. One of my younger sisters was looking out. A second later my cousin Nancy appeared at the window, followed by my older sister. Shit! Clearly my arrival was anticipated. [Did your tummy do a flip? Knowing they would hear, and most likely see, your bare bum belt whipping?]
I considered again running away, but that would only delay the inevitable. As I went up the driveway, I seized on another faint hope. I hadn’t actually been spanked for a while. Maybe my parents considered I was too old for that now, especially with my cousins in the house. Girl cousins! [Not this time, my boy, Daddy promised you a severe whipping if he ever caught you smoking, does not sound as if your Daddy would go back on his word like that, girls or no girls.]
When I entered the back door in the kitchen, my father was waiting with his doubled up belt in hand. I tried to stammer an excuse or an apology, but he was clearly intent on spanking first talking later. Three inside doors opened into our kitchen. I tried to make a dash for the closest one. If I could at least make it to my room…
But my father caught my upper arm in a crushing grip and yanked me into the centre of the kitchen. He set the belt on the table and yanked hard on the back of my pants. The snap of my jeans popped open. He yanked again. The zipper came open from the force and my jeans and underwear came part way down my hips. “No, please, not…” One more hard yank bared me from the waist to mid thigh, hobbling me so that I couldn’t escape even if I broke free. The belt bit into me again and again, raising welts on my bum, my hips, the top of my thighs. I couldn’t see clearly for the tears in my eyes, but I was vaguely aware of being watched from outside the kitchen doors.
When my father finally let go, I started for the door to the back stairs, pulling my pants up as I tried to run. The belt lashed me a couple more times on the way. I passed my older sister sitting on the stairs. Through my tears it looked to me like she was frightened.
When I got to my room, I closed the door, threw myself face down on the bed and cried into my pillow. At first I cried mainly from the pain. Then I cried from the humiliation. How much had my cousins seen? Had they watched? How could I face them again? [They saw everything, from your pants coming down, to your private parts, to your bare bum, to your whipping, to your tears. No way would they have not.]
I wished I could skip supper that night, but I had to eat at the table with everyone. Usually there was animated conversation at our supper table, but everyone was quiet and subdued. I was too embarrassed to look anyone in the eyes. I think my sisters and my cousins may have had pity for me. I’m not sure. They were all nice to me for a while. But a couple of days later my older sister made my cousins giggle by asking me in a gently teasing way whether I wanted a cigarette.
I would say that was an emotionally scarring experience. But miraculously, I somehow turned it into a source of erotic pleasure as my cousins became characters in my masturbatory spanking fantasies. [Of course you did, you’re a spanko, like the rest of us!]
That was the last time I was spanked by my parents. I theorize that my mother empathized with the extremity of my humiliation and told my father that he had gone too far, so they agreed to use more age appropriate punishments in the future. [Awww!]
Embarrassed by Masturbation
We lived in an old house where all the doors had large keyholes. You could actually see into rooms through the keyholes, even when the key was in the door. If you wanted a guarantee of privacy, you needed to hang something on the inside doorknob to block the keyhole. As an adolescent, I used to masturbate in the bathroom sometimes, since it had a lockable door. One day I was doing that, but I had forgotten to hang something on the doorknob. My sister who was a year younger peeked through the keyhole and saw me jerking off to the women’s underwear section of the Sears Catalogue. You can perhaps imagine my horror when I heard her burst out laughing behind the door and realized she had seen me.
To my intense humiliation, she told everyone what she had seen: my other sisters, her girlfriends, even my mother. My mother scolded my sister for invading my privacy, and she tried to console me by explaining that what I had done was “normal” for teenaged boys, but the humiliation was intense and enduring. For a long time my sisters and their friends teased me. [So humiliating!]
My Big Crush
I was aware that all three of my sisters were good looking and popular with boys. They were sexually quite precocious, whereas I was a shy, late bloomer. Thus, my sisters all had boyfriends before I ever had a girlfriend.
One day when I was about 17, I was home alone with my 15 year old sister and her really hot friend. I had a real crush on her, so I tried to sort of hang out with my sister when she was there, but I felt invisible to her. I was quite excited to be home with just my sister and her, and I was hoping to make some kind of impression. However, my sister and she invited a couple of “hot guys” (their words) to come over. I was embarrassed and extremely jealous when the two couples started kissing right in front of me, and the guys ran their hands down over the girls butts.
The guy with my sister must have noticed the look on my face, so he said to me, “Hey, you should invite a girl over.” I felt really self-conscious as all four of them looked at me, and I stammered some excuse about the girls I knew living too far away and not having a car. But my sister said, in a very matter of fact voice, “D doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s too shy.”
My sister didn’t say that in a mean way. She was just stating a fact as she saw it, that when it came to sexual things, her “big brother” wasn’t very mature. Most embarrassing was that for a moment her friend, who never seemed even to notice me, really looked at me, and I felt as though she could see right through me and knew how much I longed to touch her the way the other guy was touching her.
[A little beta cuck in the making – so cute!]
My Older Sister Is Humbled
My sister was perhaps 15 or 16 when this happened. She was out in the driveway, flirting with three guys who had come over in one of their parent’s cars. It was getting late, so my mother called her to come inside. A few minutes later, my mother called her again. When she still hadn’t come in after a few more minutes, my father went to the door and told her gruffly to get in the house. “Now!”
When she still didn’t come in, my younger sisters and I exchanged amazed glances, thinking her crazy to ignore that last warning? “Boy crazy,” one of my younger sisters opined. I should mention that my other siblings and I found our older sister rather annoying at that point in life because she had become condescending towards us. “You’re so immature,” she would say to us, as if SHE was an adult.
Suddenly my father said, “That’s enough.” He strode out the kitchen door, sliding his belt out its loops. I couldn’t believe it! Was he going to use his belt on her? Outdoors? In front of the boys with whom she was flirting? Would he bare her bottom as he had mine? [Dream on!]
The three boys saw my father coming before my sister did. They scrambled to get in the car and make a getaway. I saw my father say something to my sister and point to the house. My sister hurried towards the house, followed by my father. My sister came in the door crying and made a dash for her room.
When my father came in, I expected him to follow her to her room to complete the punishment. But he put his belt back on and left it to my mother to go talk to my sister. He hadn’t actually hit her, but I guess he figured the fear and embarrassment had been punishment enough. He was probably right.
Neighbourhood Spanking
We were aware that friends and other neighbourhood kids got spanked too. That was the peak of the baby boom, so there were lots of kids in the neighbourhood, and on hot summer evenings windows would be open and you would sometimes hear kids “getting it.” Or their siblings might blab, so spankings often had a public aspect, even when done in the “privacy” of the home.
My most distinct memory involves the neighbours two doors up the street from us. There were three daughters in the family, one of whom was a close friend of my older sister. It was neighbourhood knowledge that the girls’ mother was a strict disciplinarian. Most fascinating to me was that she kept an honest-to-God spanking paddle on a hook on the kitchen wall. I saw it a couple of times, and I remember thinking how embarrassing it would be to have on object whose sole purpose was to paddle your bum hanging on the kitchen wall for all to see. I remarked on it to my sister, and she told me that her friend and her two sisters got frequent bare bottomed paddlings over their mother’s knee. She even claimed to have seen her friend Penny get it once. (Something tells me that my sister shared my fascination with spanking). [Cute that there’s a family tie there – if she were to read this, she would recognize herself for sure. Wonder if she would spank you for fun?]
On one memorable occasion, Penny was playing in the yard of our house with a bunch of other kids. Suddenly Penny’s angry looking mom came striding into our yard carrying the paddle. She scolded Penny for leaving the house without finishing her chores. Penny pleaded with her mom not to spank her and promised to go home and finish her work, but her mother spun her around and gave several smacks on the seat of her shorts. She then proceeded to paddle her bottom all the way home. To add to the excitement of the event, my sister pointed out to everyone that Penny would most certainly be getting it “on the bare” at home.
I have a fascination with spanking paddles to this day, and I have a wonderfully humiliating fantasy about my wife hanging a spanking paddle on the kitchen wall for guests to see. [We have a riding crop hanging in plain view in our home gym…]
School Spankings
Corporal punishment was still common throughout my elementary school years. The standard method was hand strapping, but I witnessed 3 spankings. I’ll describe two of them that had a huge impact on my erotic imagination.
The first was in grade one. Our teacher was a very strict elderly woman. I was actually afraid of her scolding alone. A boy named Larry was always getting in trouble for getting out of his seat and behaving in a distracted manner. Today, he would be diagnosed with ADHD, but to our teacher he was a “naughty, disobedient boy.”
One day after she had warned him a couple of times in short order to “behave”, she got fed up and ordered him to come to the front of the room. When she pulled the chair out from behind her desk and placed it in a central spot, I think my heart skipped a beat. Surely she wasn’t going to…? Not in front of the whole class?
Maybe it was my imagination, but I believe a ripple of excitement ran through the class as she sat down and pulled Larry face down over her lap. Some of the girls giggled as she proceeded to spank him on the seat of his pants with her hand. I felt sorry for Larry because I imagined how intensely embarrassed I would be in his place, but I was excited too. Most memorable for me was the expression on the face of Susan, the pretty girl at the desk next to mine. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, and the expression on her face showed both amusement and excitement. I’m certain she got erotic pleasure from Larry’s humiliation, though I had no word for that feeling back then. [Oh yes!]
I suppose that to anyone who didn’t have innate sadomasochistic tendencies, the spanking was unremarkable. It didn’t last long and it probably didn’t hurt that much, though Larry had a very red face when he returned to his desk. But to me it was huge, as it became a focal point of my childhood masturbation fantasies. Of course, I imagined myself in Larry’s place, and I pushed the humiliation further, imagining the teacher baring my bum for the spanking, to the amusement and delight of my classmates, especially Susan. In its final transformation, I imagined Susan taking great pleasure in baring my bum and spanking me herself. I had a major schoolboy crush on Susan, but I was shy and embarrassed in her presence at school because of what I imagined at night. [As well you should have been!]
The second one took place when I was in the grade four side of a split grade four and five class. Miss Baker was the kind of teacher kids wanted to please and feared to displease. I imagine I wasn’t the only boy in the class to have a schoolboy crush on her because she was beautiful, with a pretty face and a shapely, compact body which she showed off to amazing effect in tight fitting skirts and high heels. She could reward us with nothing more than a smile, but she also had a quick temper. Her face would actually become red and her gaze fierce when she was displeased, and a sharp rebuke from her stung like a lash. I don’t think she ever used the strap because she didn’t need it to control us.
One day, however, she was working with the grade five kids and had given us grade four kids some work to do independently. My friend Bill in the desk next to mine was so entranced by a book he was reading that he kept going back to reading the book instead of doing the assigned work. Miss Baker told him a couple of times to put the book away and do the work. But Bill pushed his luck, and tried hiding the book on his lap under his desk to read. He was so entranced that he didn’t notice when Miss Baker stopped talking to the grade five group and walked right up to his desk.
She got Bill’s attention by smacking the top of his desk with her hand. She scolded him fiercely and then told him to stand up. I thought, “That’s it: she’s going to use the strap now.” Instead, she ordered Bill to bend over with his elbows on the desk. When Bill looked confused, she repeated the order in an icy voice. I think people’s jaws dropped in amazement, and we all exchanged excited glances. Teachers didn’t spank big kids, did they? But Miss Baker did exactly that, her red nail polish glinting as she smacked the seat of Bill’s pants several times with her hand.
Once again the expressions on the faces of some of the girls watching affected me as powerfully as the spanking itself: their undisguised amusement and excitement, an excitement that by that age I was beginning to understand as sexual. One of those girls was a friend of my older sister who sometimes came to our house.
I masturbated intensely that night, reliving the scene in memory, with myself in Bill’s place. My schoolboy crush on Miss Baker intensified. Not only was she beautiful, she now seemed dangerous in a way that aroused me terribly.
Not long after that, I did something stupid that incurred her displeasure. She gave me an embarrassing public scolding and told me I should stay after school. You can imagine what I was afraid she might do. I also thought my classmates might be thinking the same thing.
She didn’t spank me, of course. When I was alone in class with her, I apologized contritely, feeling terrible about having displeased her. I may actually have been on verge of tears. She told me in a firm but gentle voice that my misbehaviour had surprised her because she knew I was “a good boy”, and she made me promise not to repeat the offending behaviour. Then she forgave me and let me go.
That little drama of guilt, contrition, and forgiveness was deeply emotional to me. It felt so terrible to be out of her favour and wonderful to regain it. When I relived that scene in memory, however, I added another step between contrition and forgiveness: strict but loving punishment, over her knee with my pants down. [Should have been!]
There you have it, Julie, the childhood experiences contributing to the making of a submissive, male masochist. [Thanks!]
There now, weren’t those just the cutest thing???
As I’m reading these, I definitely put myself in the place of one of Darryl’s sisters, excitedly watching my big brother have his pants lowered for a belt whipping from Daddy. I imagine how wet I would get watching Darryl screech in pain as the big belt connects repeatedly with his bared, increasingly reddening backside. His bumhole winking at me as he receives his strapping. The glimpses of his penis and testicles as he writhes in pain.
I would invite my friend over and we would tease Darryl about his spankings, about how I caught him masturbating through the keyhole, and about his big crush on my friend. With her help, I would cajole him into taking a bare naked paddling across each of our knees. When he gets hard, we would stand him up and laugh at his erection. We’d then make him masturbate it to completion in front of us, while we watch. Then back across our sexy knees to finish up those paddlings. I’d tell him that from now on he was not allowed to masturbate unless he comes to me first and asks my permission. If he obeyed me in that, and everything else, for the next three months, I’d let my friend give him a blowjob (my friend would be eagerly nodding, yes, yes, yes – I spank her also!).
Ha ha!
Source: Strict Julie
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