One of my earlier spanking memories, possibly around age six, occurred when I was messing with my mother while she was driving. While sitting behind her, I began incessantly poking her and tickling her. She jokingly threatened a spanking, which in turn made me uncomfortable/mad (how dare she!) so I ramped up my behavior. I attempted to cover her eyes and said some mean things to her, which I have long since forgotten. She then told me she was going to slap my bum for real.

She pulled over into a rest stop parking lot and got in the back. I was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. She unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled my pants down, revealing my white cotton brief undies with animal designs on them. She put me over her lap and spanked my cotton covered butt hard. I was too stunned to protest at first, and she kept spanking away, delivering slap after slap to my plump six year old buns. Her hand came down quite hard on my undies, and I began to whine. After maybe 20 spanks, I broke into tears. She reached for my waistband and yanked it down, tugged the fabric over my thighs and down below my knees. She pulled my torso back onto her lap, spreading my legs, and began to spank my now burning bare bottom with renewed vigor. With another 20 or so spanks in the bag, she switched to my sit spots and thighs, alternating with no particular pattern. At this point I was wailing and bawling my eyes off, and with a total of approximately 60 spanks, she figured I had had enough. 

I didn’t get a chance to look at my butt because she yanked up my undies, a little too harshly for my liking, then my pants and buckled me in immediately while I cried lightly. I sat there a while, my butt stinging, until we got to our destination. She hugged me, told me she forgave me, and reminded me not to act that way again. She also said that she was really sorry she had to spank me and that she didn’t want to ever do it again. Unfortunately, that would not be the case.