Many years ago, I was invited to go away for a long weekend with my friend, David, who, like me, was about 13 or 14 at the time, his mum (his dad was away for work for a couple of weeks) and his older sister, Donna, who was 18 or 19 at the time. We had gone to a thatched cottage in Norfolk, quite idyllic looking back on it. Set in between several large fields with small wooded areas and hedgerows, it was quite a place for adventure, which was why David had asked if I could come. He was resourceful but would have become bored otherwise and his mum had jumped at the chance. She was attending a 3-day painting course in the next village and needed someone to keep him busy. Originally, she was coming alone, but with her husband being sent away on a trade mission to Africa, Angela’s plans rapidly changed.

We arrived on a Thursday evening in late July, warm and sunny, and David and I set off exploring. Donna got her CD player and head-set out and sat on a sun lounger whilst her mum, Angela, unpacked and got dinner ready. After dinner, we explored a little more and then settled in for the night. Angela had the big room, David and I had a twin room and Donna had another twin room to herself. Next morning, Angela made breakfast, gave the kids a kiss on the cheek (David was embarrassed) and told all three of us to stay out of bother and she’d be back around 4.00. There were plenty of snacks in the fridge. David and I loaded our backpacks with goodies and set off on an adventure down to the river a couple of miles away, whilst Donna put on her skimpy bikini and sunblock before settling in for some serious lazy time. She was about 5 feet 6 inches, blonde and, for a 13 or 14-year-old, was heaven on legs. Slender calves and thighs, a smashing bum and small pointy boobs. I thought I was in 7th heaven!

What we didn’t know was that Donna had recently taken up smoking. It was not illegal; she was 18, but her mother certainly would not have approved. In those days it was socially acceptable, even the norm, but the cottage owners asked people not to smoke indoors. Donna being a rebel thought that did not apply to her and decided when she went in for a cooling drink she would light up. The doors and windows had been left open when we left so she assumed the smell would not linger. I found out later, she had decided to light up, then needed the loo and when she got back the cigarette had been blown off the table onto a rug and had burned a nasty hole in it. Donna, being Donna, did not notice or remember the cigarette, and just lit another and went back outside.

David and I had a great day. There was a climbing wing by the river and we played on that with some local kids for a couple of hours before settling down in a corn field with our picnic watching birds, bees, butterflies and aeroplanes flying over our heads. The afternoon flew past and having walked a good 6 or 7 miles, we decided to head back to the cottage. The path came out by the road halfway between the cottage and the village where Angela’s course was being held. I checked my watch; it was nearly 4.00 pm and I wanted to head back. David had other ideas and said he’d catch me up. He wanted to see what the village shop sold. We parted and went our separate ways and I cut onto a small path off of the road which would cut several hundred yards off the walk. It was a hot afternoon and this path seemed shady as well as quicker. As I emerged at the far end, I could see Angela getting out of her car, whilst Donna was still sunning herself, oblivious to her mother’s return. I could see Angela went more or less straight in the house and upstairs, as I could see her curtains being drawn, presumably so she could get changed, not that anyone could have seen inside.

As I approached the cottage down a farm track, I saw the curtains open again and continued my slow walk back in the draining heat.  At that point, I heard a shout. Angela was calling Donna’s name loudly and repeatedly, eventually coming out of the door and shaking Donna who was dozing, listening to a CD, I presume. Angela was normally a fairly cool mum and easy-going, but was clearly in quite a temper. I stood behind an old oak tree which cast a huge shadow and would hide my presence well.

Donna sat up, looking confused, whilst I could hear Angela talking loudly and holding something up. I squinted and managed to work out that it was the rug from the side of the sofa and coffee table in the lounge and it appeared to have a big hole in it at one end. I was struggling to hear, but did not dare to move any closer to hear better. I managed to hear words like, ‘burn’, ‘smoking’, ‘hole’, and ‘deposit’.

With hindsight, this would have been something along the lines of, ‘how did this get burned?’ ‘Were you smoking?’ ‘Did you burn the hole in it?’ ‘I will lose the security deposit’. That was I guess, but I figure it’s a close one.

Donna sat there talking back to her mum, as teenagers do. Angela was becoming more and more animated, and she stormed off back into the house. I thought that was that.

I waited a moment before breaking cover and, just after doing so, Angela reappeared carrying a chair. Strange, I thought. I tucked in behind a tall beech tree; this offered less cover but was still shady and about 20 yards closer to the cottage, so I could see better. Donna looked slightly perplexed at the appearance of the chair, and I didn’t understand either. However, all soon became crystal clear.

Angela plonked the chair down firmly about 3 or 4 yards away from where Donna was now sitting, having removed her headset. She then reached forward and took a firm hold on Donna’s left arm, just at the elbow joint, and pulled her to her feet. Not sure what was happening, Donna offered little resistance, but the look on her face became an absolute picture as the penny dropped. Angela sat down and, without a word, pulled Donna squarely across her lap. Angela was facing almost at right angles to where I was hiding, so I could not really see Donna’s face any more, but I had a superb view of her bottom. Her tanned legs led up her multi-coloured bikini bottoms which was all that covered her bum at this point.

Angela then set about giving Donna’s bottom a good hard spanking whilst lecturing her on smoking, safety and not talking back to a parent. All the while, Angela’s hand was going up and down, up and down, spanking Donna’s bottom like a metronome. Although I was at least 20 or 25 yards away, I could clearly hear the loud slapping noise as each spank landed on Donna’s scantily clad backside. Donna was writhing about, trying to get free, but Angela was having none of it and warned her to keep still, which she didn’t, of course.

At that point, her mum had clearly had enough of her daughter and, to my utter amazement, proceeded to pull Donna’s bikini bottoms down, saying if she wanted to act like a toddler she could be spanked like a toddler.

A once white, but rapidly reddening, triangle of naked bottom was on display. Donna was still kicking wildly, and the bikini bottoms flew off her feet, almost landing on Angela’s head. From what I could see of Donna’s face, it was as red as her bottom, and she was clearly crying which, considering the loud slaps coming from her bottom as each spank landed, was no surprise at all. I really felt for her. Eventually, after 2 or 3 minutes, Angela scolded her daughter again and told her to get up, get dressed and out of her sight.

Donna scrambled up, still blubbering, and retrieved her bikini bottoms, quickly pulling them on. Donna ran inside and up the stairs to lay down and cry her eyes out following the spanking. Angela took the rug and the chair back inside and slammed the door shut. I slid came out from behind the tree trunk, keeping hidden, and sat on the ground processing what I had just seen.

As I calmed down, I realised I could not mention this to anyone. I dare not risk Donna or Angela finding out or I feared I might be next over Angela’s knee. I know David took the occasional trip there, though he didn’t know I knew. I couldn’t tell David. Imagine the conversation; what have you been up to? Oh nothing, just been looking at your sister’s naked bum getting a spanking whilst I hid in the trees. No, it wasn’t going to happen. I decided to retrace my tracks and intercept David a few hundred yards up the track and just act as though nothing had happened, which I did.

When we went into the cottage, Angela had calmed down and poured us both some cold lemonade and chatted about the day. David said the village shop was awful and only sold essentials. I told Angela about the rope swing and Angela suggested taking Donna tomorrow, which we agreed to, though I found it difficult to take my eyes off her bottom all the next day. Donna finally came down stairs and I acted all innocent. She had a face like a wet weekend for the rest of the evening.

The rest of the mini-holiday was a real anti-climax after that highlight, but it was still great fun, even if David now thought I fancied his sister. If he had only known the half of it.