When I was 21, I spent a lot of time with my biological mother and half-sister, then 17, whom I had reconnected with after years apart. As sisters do, we had our spats. One day in particular, we were fighting over everything. It went from words sniped back and forth to pushing and shoving.

Momma grew up in the heart of Texas and was used to cutting her own switch. We lived in the south still but not the deep south. She rarely ever spanked my sister. My adoptive family used a paddle. We were so into our fight, we never heard her leave, but she made sure we heard her come in. The door slammed and there she stood with four freshly cut switches. She had on workout shorts and a Disney shirt with a cute saying of some sort, but oh did she look imposing with those switches. She spoke two words to my sister.

“Michelle, bedroom.”

My sister’s jaw dropped and she practically ran. Momma turned to me.

“You’re over twenty and I didn’t raise you. You have a choice. You can take the switch on your bare butt like your little sister or you can go home for the day. Keep in mind, it takes two to fight. I’ll know your answer when I leave her room. If you’re still here, l assume you’re choosing to take it.”

And she was gone to my sister’s room. I was nervous as anything. I felt like it would be really bitchy to leave when I’d been fighting just as much. At that point, I was into spanking and would self-spank with the paddle when I was home alone sometimes, but the idea of a switch scared me. My sister’s pain filled cries did nothing to help my nerves.

Decision made, I sat on the couch to wait. Eventually she came back out.

“Submitting to a bare butt switching?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Mature choice. Come on to my room then.”

Wiping my palms on my jogging shorts, I got up to follow her. She closed and locked the door.

“Shorts and panties to the floor.”

I silently obeyed. She positioned me a little ways from her bed.

“Hands on the bed. Further. Bottom out. Spread your legs a bit. You’re the oldest. I expect you to be a good example. Twenty-five licks. Once per year of life and four extra to seal the message in. Stay in position and take the switchin’. You’ll get one warning if you move, then more will be added. Understood?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl.”

She pushed my tank top up further from my waist and pressed the cursed thing onto my bottom. I felt sick. I hadn’t been spanked, really spanked, by anyone since I was sixteen or so. I’d only ever gotten four or five smacks on my bare butt with the paddle. But, I’d committed and there was no going back now.

I know I screamed at the first couple strokes. I did my absolute best to keep my bottom out and presented for the switching though. I had no desire to add any licks. Part way through, my throat was raw from my crying and carrying on. Never in my life had my bottom been lit on fire like this! By the twenty-fifth stroke, it still stung like hell but I also felt like the nerves were fried. Standing hurt so much more and I sobbed like a baby furiously rubbing my hot bottom.

Once I’d calmed down, she hugged me and assured me she forgave and loved me. My sister and I apologized to each other too and went to lay on her bed until I felt recovered enough to drive the twenty minutes home. Once there, I looked and found bold red lines criss-crossed all over my welted bottom. It was sore for days!

FD