My mother had a habit when my sister or I were misbehaving of asking us whether we wanted to go over her knee with our pants down. Naturally we didn’t and would stop doing whatever was annoying her immediately. I cannot remember a time before this question was regularly asked, so often that Rebecca and I would use it to impersonate her when she was out of earshot amidst fits of giggles. In spite of the frequency with which we received this threat, both of us survived with our bottoms intact until we were 12 years old. Rebecca was a year older than me and her first spanking happened almost exactly a year before mine and for the same reason. We were both at the same school then, I was in the first year and Beccy in the second. It was December and the school had sent out its end of term reports. I remember that Beccy was nervous as we were walking home from school together because she knew that her report was going to displease our parents. Specifically, she knew that her report expressed concerns about the amount of days she had missed through illness, whereas in fact, she had been playing truant and forging sick notes and as far as my mother knew she had been in school every day.

As I have mentioned, neither of us had ever been spanked before. Another of Mum’s habits when we were annoying her was to send us to our room with the promise that she would be up to warm our bottoms later. We would sit on our beds, nervously waiting for the sound of her footsteps on the stairs and when we heard them we would huddle together in fear, wondering if this was the day when she would keep her promise. Then she would come into the room, tell us our tea was ready and to come downstairs and she would not mention our promised spanking, and of course, neither of us was imprudent enough to remind her.

We arrived home and my sister was reluctant to go in. We always came and went through the back door and so the first room we entered was the kitchen. When we came in we found Mum waiting there with Rebecca’s school report in one hand and a slipper in the other. We had never seen this slipper before. It was not one of Dad’s and didn’t look like it was designed as comfortable footwear. I felt a thrill go through me when I saw it and knew that it was going to be used on my sister’s bum.

Mum waved the report in Rebecca’s face and gave her a long, rapid discourse on what she thought of her and the report. Eventually she asked Beccy if she had any homework to do and when she nodded, Mum told her she had better go to her room and do it while she could still sit down. My sister went upstairs. I said that I had homework to do and started to follow her, hoping to find out how she felt about her imminent spanking, but Mum stopped me.

“You can do it at the kitchen table. I want your sister to spend some time on her own so she can think about her behaviour.”

As I was doing my homework and Mum was preparing tea, I asked her if she was really going to slipper Beccy.

“Yes.”

“Cool, can I watch?”

“No”

As always, Dad arrived home from work at 6.0’clock and Mum had tea ready to serve up. I had done my homework and put my books away so the table was clear, except for Rebecca’s report and the slipper. I was sent upstairs to fetch my sister while Mum served tea. At the table, Mum spent the meal reading out damning passages from the report, and then showing them to Dad as if he might think she was making them up. Dad said nothing and concentrated on eating his tea. Beccy had no appetite and hardly ate anything and I was the same, too excited at the prospect of my sister’s punishment to eat anything. I had a knot in my stomach which I would one day discover to be the same feeling I would get when it was I who was to be punished.

When Dad had finished eating. Mum asked Rebecca if she was going to eat any more and she shook her head. Mum pushed her chair back from the table and got up. Dad did the same. Mum picked up the slipper and the report and said: “Right, Rebecca, let’s go upstairs.”

Beccy got up looking like she was about to burst into tears and led the way to our bedroom with her head down staring at the stairs. I asked my Mum again if I could please come and watch but she told me ‘no’ and to finish my tea.

The three of them trooped up the stairs leaving me alone with my almost full plate. When they were out of sight I whistled to the dog who was not allowed in the kitchen at mealtimes and was delighted to get a treat of all the meat and potatoes from my plate. I quickly swallowed the vegetables that I didn’t think he would eat and sneaked up the stairs as far as I dared. I didn’t dare go as far as the landing in case the bedroom door opened and I was seen. The thought that I might also get a spanking for disobeying my Mother when she was in this mood was enough to make me very careful.

I stood about three steps from the top listening intently and for quite a while I could hear nothing. My parents were not given to shouting even when they were angry.

At last I heard a loud ‘Whack’ and an ”Oooww” from my sister. She responded to each ‘Whack’ equally vocally, but getting progressively louder. The smacks were spaced about 10 seconds apart and I assumed my Mum was making some point in between each one. I didn’t know whether it was Mum or Dad doing the smacking at the time, although after 15 smacks (I have always kept count whenever I have witnessed or received a spanking) there was a long pause and I thought it was over and I had better make myself scarce, when suddenly it started up again, only now both the whacking sounds and my sister’s howls were louder. I (rightly, I later discovered) guessed that during this break in proceedings, Mum had handed over both the slipper and my sister to Dad and she was now getting a much harder spanking. Dad did not leave such long gaps between smacks, only two or three seconds, and in a short while Rebecca had another 35 whacks with the slipper, making 50 in total. I didn’t know whether this round figure was a sentence that my parents had pronounced or if it just happened to add up to that without them counting, but I think it probably was decided beforehand because later, whenever they had occasion to spank either of us again, it was always a round figure. My parents were modern and embraced the metric system, opting for multiples of ten, whereas the school preferred the imperial half dozen or dozen for serious misbehaviour.

As soon as I heard the bedroom door open I slid down the banister. I didn’t want them to hear me running and if I tiptoed they would almost certainly see me. I then resumed my seat at the kitchen table. When my parents came in I asked if I could go and see Rebecca but was told ‘no’, she was not to see anyone until bedtime. I was desperate to see her bottom while the marks were still fresh but thought it unwise to argue with Mum while she still had the slipper in her hand.

I had never wished so fervently for bedtime to come around and couldn’t wait to talk to Rebecca and hear all about it, but frustratingly, she didn’t want to talk about it and wouldn’t even show me her bum. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to. If I had just had my first spanking I was sure I would want to share all the details with someone, however painful the experience had been, but she remained laying face down on her bed and held tightly to the covers so that I couldn’t sneak a peek at her bottom. Later, as I lay awake reliving the sounds of her punishment, Rebecca fell asleep and started to snore softly. I crept out of my bed and went to hers and lifted the covers but she was wearing pyjamas and I couldn’t see her bum. I had a torch which I used for reading under the covers when I was supposed to be sleeping and I shone this on her and took hold of the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and started to slide them down. However, her bottom was still so tender after her slippering that she immediately awoke when the material scraped against her skin and she pushed me away and threatened to bash me if I came near her again, so I didn’t get to see what a freshly spanked bottom looked like until a year later, in the mirror.

H