My family live in Hastings, England. Three summers ago, my mum remarried and went on a 2 month round the world cruise with Geoff, her new husband. Rather than risk leaving a 17, almost 18, year-old home alone, she packed me off to ‘aunty’ Janet. She isn’t actually a relative, but a lifelong friend of mum’s who lives with her only daughter, Penny, aged 22, on a smallholding in rural West Sussex.

I arrived and was warmly greeted and settled in. Over the first week, nothing really happened. I went bird spotting, a big passion of mine, did a bit of fishing and quite a lot of walking. Then, one afternoon, things changed. I was talking to aunty Janet, who had to take a phone call and shot off in the car in a fury. An hour later, she came back, equally angry, with Penny in tow. I don’t know what had happened but Penny looked very upset, had clearly been crying, and went straight to bed.

The next day, Penny was subdued and hardly spoke to me. Then, at about 7.00 pm, aunty Janet and Penny went to a large shed and, 10 minutes later, Janet came out red in the face followed a few moments later by a sobbing Penny. This was repeated twice more before Penny opened up to me. She explained that she had tried to steal, in a moment of madness, a bottle of vodka from the only shop in the village. The owner, a guy called George, was a lifelong friend of my mum and Janet. He had rung the other day and she had shot over to get to the bottom of what had gone on. George had been quite upset and said if it had been anyone else and he would have called the police. Aunty Janet suggested a far better punishment and promised to punish Penny severely once a day for the next week, and he was welcome to bear witness. He declined, but aunty Janet insisted he see justice served, at least once. So in the back of the shop, she had put Penny across her knee and given her a spanking she would not forget in a hurry, certainly not until tomorrow’s repeat performance at any rate.

My mind was racing as Penny told me of her woes, and an amazing thought came to mind. If I could hide out in the shed, which was more of a small barn, I might get to see the show! At about 6.45, I snuck out of the door and into the shed. There was an old chair placed deliberately on the floor which must be the stage for tonight’s performance. I hunkered down behind some boxes, making sure there was a gap I could see through, and waited. And I didn’t have to wait long. Bang on 7.00 pm, in came Penny walking forlornly behind aunty Janet. Aunty Janet sat down, reminded Penny why they were there and told her to get over her knee. Penny’s bottom was more or less facing in my direction and aunty Janet wasted no time in administering the beginnings of a clearly painful spanking. Her hand crashed down on Penny’s ample bottom covered by a pretty flowered skirt. Soon, Penny’s skirt was pulled up revealing a pair of tight-fitting white panties with a red glowing area extending from her seat. Penny was crying by this stage but aunty Janet continued, pausing only briefly to pull Penny’s panties down to her knees, bare bottom for another minute or so. At last, Penny was allowed up, all dishevelled and crying hard. She carefully pulled her panties back up as her skirt fell back into place. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen, and there were two more shows to do.

The next night, I hid in the same place and once again Penny was upended, spanked and bared, but did not sob quite as badly. On the last night of the punishment schedule, I moved the boxes slightly to get a slightly better view. After all, this was the last chance. Again, bang on 7.00 pm, the show started. Penny over aunty Janet’s lap, head near the floor looking under the chair. Then something happened. She looked straight at me, smiled and waved softly under the chair directly at me, until the first spank hit home. She had clearly seen me and, unknown to me, she had known I was there on the previous evening too. I was panic stricken. What was I going to do? I stayed still, trying not to even breath in case aunty Janet twigged. As on the other evenings, after about 5 minutes and a clear view of Penny’s behind, the spanking finished and aunty Janet hoped Penny would not be in this position again. With that, aunty Janet and Penny left.

Ten minutes later, I snuck out and back to my room, dreading what was surely to come.

Half an hour passed, then an hour. What was going on? I dared to go down stairs when aunty Janet cheerfully greeted me. She assumed I had been on a long walk.

Next day, aunty Janet left early to go to town and Penny came and sat with me for breakfast. I didn’t know what to do or say. Penny giggled and broke the ice and asked if I had enjoyed the show. I went beetroot red! Penny teased me for a bit before telling me she didn’t mind at all, but she couldn’t believe her mum didn’t see me. I apologised profusely, but Penny genuinely didn’t mind. In truth, she was a bit of an exhibitionist and she had to admit it had given her a thrill, despite the pain, knowing she had an audience. She also admitted she enjoyed the occasional spanking, but nothing like what her mum had done. Her last boyfriend occasionally had spanked her playfully, which she had enjoyed enormously. She had particularly enjoyed being spanked outdoors as that had a thrill of risk as well as the simple pleasure of the punishment.

Thankful, things got back to normal after that. A few days later, it was my 18th birthday. The day before, aunty Janet had gone into hospital for a few days for a minor routine operation which I understood would take several weeks to fully get over. She had given me my present which she asked me to open; a wonderful pair of binoculars, perfect for my bird spotting. Mum had given me money before she went away, so I wasn’t expecting much on the day. Boy, was I wrong!

The day began with me opening a few cards, hoovering up the £50 or so in beer tokens enclosed, and I thought that was that. I went through the woods to try out my new binoculars; brilliant, I saw a goshawk and a couple of buzzards and went back mid-afternoon. Penny was hanging out some washing and doing some quick chores before joining me in the kitchen. She wished me a happy birthday, kissed me warmly on the cheek and handed me a card which I opened. A sheet of pink paper fluttered to the floor. Penny blushed deeply and I bent to pick it up. I read it then, not quite believing what I was reading.

Dear Adam, 

Firstly, a very happy 18th birthday – adulthood at last!

I know you were greatly intrigued with the events in the shed the other week. I hope you have had time to process everything now? I guess you have a lot of questions about what you saw. I’m sure I would.

So, I have decided the best explanation is to give you a demonstration. As your 18th birthday gift, I am inviting you to take me across your knee and give me the spanking of your choosing so you can fully appreciate the wonderful world of spanking more fully.



For a second, I sat bewildered, my mind running and working overtime before asking if this was a joke. Penny assured me she was serious. She was usually spanked at least once or twice a week, she explained, but had not been punished since my last viewing in the shed. She told me she often brought them on herself so as to get the spanking. With mum out of action for the next week or so, it seemed like the perfect match. At last I had gathered my thoughts and Penny asked if I was OK with it. What? A 22-year-old, lovely looking woman, almost begging me to spank her? Durr!

With that, Penny took me in hand, literally and metaphorically, and took me into the lounge. She pulled out a chair and placed it in the middle of the room, well away from any obstructions, and asked me to sit. She then stood by my right-hand side and proceeded to lay herself across my lap. Was this really happening? The warmth and pressure now laid across me suggested this was indeed no dream. She settled in, turned and smiled, and turned her head back towards the floor. Placing my right hand on her bottom, she signed and wiggled slightly. I rubbed her bum a couple of times then gave it what could only be described as a polite pat on her pink dress covered bottom.

I heard a tut from below and repeated the act several times harder; still a tut. After 4 or 5 attempts, finally some encouraging noises. Slap, slap, slap. I was starting to get the hang of it now. Penny pushed herself up slightly and I stopped. I thought my wonderful present had come to an end, but no. I realised she was making it easier for me to pull the skirt of her dress up over her bottom. I tugged it up somewhat ham-fistedly, revealing a pair of pure silk light pink panties below, clearly chosen to match the dress. They felt wonderful to the touch and I could feel the heat generated from the spanking radiating through. I continued for a few minutes and the pink panties were starting to show a couple of red patches coming through. I was in a dream, surely this isn’t happening. I spanked on. Her bottom was bright red as she looked around again to tell me I was welcome, like her mum, to finish her off bare. Well, it would have been rude to refuse. She lifted her thighs as I slid the silky panties past her knees so she could kick them off. I finished with some really hard spanks, which must have been near her blubbering tolerance. Not wishing to over-do it, I patted her bum and told her to stand up. As she did so, her skirt fell back over her bottom and she rubbed it hard, pulling a face designed to show suffering but with a definite grin attached to it as well.

Being a perfect gentleman, I thanked her for her kind and generous present and said it would be one whose memory I would cherish for a long time. She also reminded me it was her birthday in three weeks’ time. I put that straight into my diary.