It was a blisteringly hot day and my partner, Nancy, had the day off and we were enjoying the heat. We had a hose set up and a sprinkler, so it cooled us off when the heat got just too much. Our garden is lawned and separated from next door’s garden by a 4ft fence. The neighbours, Bill and Miranda, have a 19-year-old daughter, Sandra, known as Sandy, who, to be honest, although a lovely girl can be a pain in the neck at times.

The day was passing nicely. We read, sunbathed, and had plenty of cold drinks on hand in an ice box, but at around 4pm, maybe a little later, we noticed talking from next door. Normally, there would be no one home as they all worked 9-to-5 jobs. We realised it was Sandy and another female voice, her mum. From what little we could hear, it sounded like Sandy’s boss, a friend of Miranda’s, had messaged Miranda wondering where Sandy was. It sounded like she had bunked off work far more often than her mum knew about and it had become a major issue with her boss.

As I mentioned, Sandy is a nice enough young woman, but bone idle, and working for a living was not what she wanted to do. She wanted to be kept like a millionaire’s daughter. Difficult for two parents on average incomes in the south of England to facilitate. We had heard words being exchanged on the subject of money and jobs before, but tried to ignore them. Today, however, was not really possible. A full blown mother/daughter row was kicking off, both shouting. Sandy was saying she hoped she got fired, it was a crummy job anyway. Miranda was saying if her daughter got sacked she wouldn’t get the benefits, and the bank of mum and dad had been bleed dry, both by her daughter and the cost of living crisis.

Nancy and I were sort of stuck now. As we were laying on sun beds, we were out of sight. However, if we moved our cover would be blown. We stayed still. However, there were gaps in the slats of the fence and I was right up against it to get the benefit of the sunshine as it headed behind the houses and put the gardens in shade. Without making our presence obvious, we could see exactly what was going on next door. Miranda was clearly at the end of her rope with Sandy. The heat probably wasn’t helping their tempers.

Then it happened! After Miranda had reminded Sandy for the third time that if she lost her job they were not going to fund her lifestyle any longer, Sandy let loose an expletive-laden tirade at her mother. That was the final straw. Taking hold of the startled teenager’s wrist, Miranda sat down and pulling a startled Sandy across her lap in one fluid movement. Sandy’s short cotton sundress was whipped up, exposing her tanned legs and bright white panties. Nancy and I just stared open-mouthed at what was unfolding. A second or so later, Miranda raised her hand and brought it crashing down with a loud slap on Sandy’s panties. Her bottom deformed under the slap. Another followed, and another and another. Sandy was not taking this lightly and was screaming and kicking for all her worth.

In the end, Miranda hooked her leg over Sandy’s to stop her thrashing about and redoubled her efforts. Then Sandy swore once more. So, calm as anything, Miranda pulled Sandy’s panties down and told her she had earned a bare-bottom spanking. Already, Sandy’s bum was bright red. The individual spank marks were visible as red hand prints. Slowly but surely, her whole bottom became red and blotchy. The screaming subsided now, becoming more of a wail, then outright sobbing. I was beginning to feel for her, but I suppose she had it coming.

After a couple of frantic minutes, Miranda slowed her spanking pace and stopped, leaving her sobbing daughter looking down at her mum’s legs and the grass below. Unlocking her leg, Miranda allowed Sandy to get up and, as she did so, her panties fell lifelessly to the ground whilst her dress remained up around her waist where Miranda must have tucked it into her belt during the spanking, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Nancy and I just looked at each other, dumb struck! Had we really just seen that happen? Now Sandy hobbled off holding her sore, sore bottom, forgetting about her panties and that she was completely on show to anyone lucky enough to have seen what had just unfolded. She went into the kitchen and out of view, whilst Miranda now shook her stinging hand as she bent to pick the discarded underwear off of the lawn, then followed her daughter inside. We stayed still and quiet for a few more moments, before giggling like children, we made our way back to the safety of our kitchen staying low in case we were spotted.

We have no idea what unfolded after that. Certainly, we didn’t hear anything from next door for the rest of the afternoon, so I expect they hugged and made up. We had never witnessed anything quite like that before and I suspect we never will again, but wow, what a stroke of luck.