This spanking took place at my home in Lancashire, England in 1967.

I will explain the situation in my home to give the spanking context. Without it, my parents may be painted in harsh light that they do not deserve. I was 13 years old and was a couple of months away from the end of my second year in Grammar School. It’s fair to say that I was generally a well behaved boy, but on occasion I was liable to make rash decisions that would get me into trouble and give my parents cause to punish me. As was fairly standard for the time, my Mum and Dad used corporal punishment on the occasions that discipline was required. My parents were caring and loving and while strict they were never unfair when it came to administering punishment.

At the lightest end punishment would be a smacked bum over my clothes given while I was standing up. This would be for minor naughtiness or as a warning to shape up and was most often applied when I was younger. For more serious naughtiness, I would have my shorts/trousers and underpants removed and have to go over Mum or Dad’s knee for a bare bum spanking. This could be with hand or the slipper, and made for an effective and painful punishment, especially when the slipper was used. Although by today’s standards this may seem harsh it was not viewed that way at the time. I certainly had friends who got much worse at home.

When I started Grammar School at age 11, I was first warned that getting spanked with the belt was now an option if I got in trouble at school and later warned that the belt was also an option if I committed a serious act of naughtiness at home. My brother, who is older by 7 years, had been spanked with the belt on two occasions and had told me how painful it was. For almost 2 years I had not got in any trouble at school nor ever behaved badly enough at home to merit a belt spanking. I had got a few slipperings in that time, including one close call with the belt, but I was yet to feel it’s sting, even though the fear of it was something I would sometimes think about. Unfortunately giving in to peer pressure from some of my friends was to bring this run to an end and finally  bring the belt into sharp contact with my bum.

I was a keen football fan, both playing and watching. As a Liverpool supporter my Dad would sometimes take me to watch them play at Anfield in Liverpool. By the age of 13, though, I was wanting to go with my friends, some of whom were allowed to travel to Liverpool and watch them unaccompanied. I had asked on a couple of occasions, but I was forbidden from going unless Dad took me as it was felt that I was still too young and it was too dangerous for me. For the last home game of the season, my friends, who were allowed to go by themselves, were talking to me and another boy who, like me, wasn’t allowed. They were going and were essentially daring us to go with them. I remember one of them asking if the reason I wouldn’t go was because I was scared of being spanked if I was caught. The answer was partially that I normally obeyed my parents without question and of course there was also the fear of the sound spanking I would get if I did disobey them and go. At 13, though, I didn’t want to admit this. I began to think that maybe I could go and if I was careful I was unlikely to get caught. After a bit more persuasion and teasing, rather than look scared, I gave in and decided I would take the risk and go.

On the day of the game I lied to my Mum and Dad about where I was going by saying I would be spending the day with one of my friends. However, I travelled to Liverpool and went to the game with my group of friends. I thought my chances of getting away with it were good. Unfortunately I had not considered that my Uncle sometimes went to the football and did go to this game. As it turned out he did spot me with my friends but then lost me in the crowd so I didn’t know I had been spotted. My uncle knew that I wasn’t allowed to go with my friends and telephoned my parents, saying he had seen me and asking if they knew where I was. The game was up and I didn’t know it.

Later on, when I got home, I was immediately confronted by my Mum and Dad demanding to know where I had been. I don’t know how, but it was obvious that they knew.

I remember Mum saying: “Don’t make this any worse for yourself by lying.”

I felt that I had no choice and owned up to what I had done. I knew it was bad; going to the game when I knew it was forbidden was deliberate disobedience that I had planned, and I’d told lies about where I was going. The best I could hope for was a dose of the slipper but I thought that this would be enough for the belt and I was scared. There was a long telling off and I was made to tell Mum and Dad exactly what I’d done and who I’d been with. I gave the names but missed out the name of the friend who had also not been allowed to go. I didn’t want him to get into trouble as well, but apart from that I told the truth.

After the long telling off was done we finally got to what my punishment was to be. It must have already been discussed as I wasn’t sent away for Mum and Dad to talk.

Dad simply said: “You’ve been so disobedient we have no option, you are going to be spanked with the belt.”

Even though I pretty much knew it was coming my heart sank, this was going to be bad. I didn’t know how much it would hurt but I did know it was going to be worse than the slipper and I was scared.

Dad then said: “Come on, upstairs, we’ll do this in your room.”

I was then marched up the stairs by Dad with Mum also following behind. All I could think to play for time was to say I needed to go to the toilet, which was actually true. I was given permission but told to be quick. I was a couple of minutes and when I came out of the bathroom Mum was stood outside my room and just said: “In here, now.”

I walked into my room and Mum stepped in behind and closed the door. Dad was in the room stood next to my bed holding a doubled over leather belt in his right hand. I looked at it and noticed that he was still wearing his belt, so he must have got another for the spanking. It was probably the very same belt that had previously been used on my brother and was kept for spanking purposes just as Mum and Dad kept a slipper just for spanking.

Dad then said: “Take your clothes off, you can put your pyjamas on after we’re finished with you.”

Usually I only had to take my trouser and underpants off rather than everything, but it didn’t seem like a good time to start asking questions so I obeyed and started to remove all my clothes. As I was taking my jumper and shirt off Mum placed my pillow, and another one she must have got earlier, in the middle of my bed. Finally I was down to just my underpants and I reluctantly pulled them down and stepped out of them. Standing totally naked in front of Mum and Dad, I felt totally humbled and about two feet tall.

Once I was finished undressing Dad said: “Lie face down on your bed over the pillows.”

I did so and lay down so the pillows were raising my bum up. This was it, I was in position and about to get my first belt spanking. I forgot about the embarrassment of being naked and felt just fear of the punishment that was only seconds away.

Dad then said: “This is going to hurt, stay still and take it bravely and it will be over sooner.”

I was already struggling to hold back the tears as I replied: “Yes, Dad.”

Then suddenly I heard a swishing sound and a crack as the belt lashed against my bum. An intense sting exploded and I yelped out a loud ‘oww’. The pain was bad, way worse than the slipper, and it seemed unbearable already. There followed another swish then a crack, then again and again as Dad carried on applying the belt to my bum. Wish each smack of the belt my ‘owws’ became louder and I began to cry my eyes out as the pain grew and seemed more than I could take. It was an effort to stay still in position but I knew I had to, as any struggling or movement would have brought more punishment. After six or seven smacks I lost count of how many I’d had and more importantly I didn’t know how many more Dad was going to give me. I just remember the incredible sting which grew to what seemed unbearable each time the belt smacked down onto my bum. There was a pause of a few seconds between each smack which meant that as the intensity of the last sting began to subside the belt would land again causing a new explosion of pain. Finally after somewhere in the region of 20 whacks there was no more.

My Dad then said: “Right, I think you’ve had enough. I hope you’ve learned your lesson because if you disobey us like that again you’ll be getting the belt again.”

Through my tears I replied: ” I have, I won’t do it again, Dad.” With that I was left in my room. As I lay on my bed still crying, I considered that it was the worst spanking I’d ever had but it was also the most serious bit of misbehaviour I’d ever committed. Severe as it was, I couldn’t say it wasn’t deserved in the circumstances and I certainly never committed any similar offences again and was always careful to avoid any further encounters with the belt.