Spanking had been banned for over two decades by the time I started at St Martin’s, a girls grammar school in all but name. They prided themselves on strict discipline, and the slipper and the cane had been a regular occurrence, both in and out of class, 20 or 30 years before. However, since it was outlawed, they had to be more imaginative. Detentions were common, both single and full class ones. Suspensions were also used, but only where other options were proving futile. However, the single most effective method of control was a sternly worded letter home. In this, the teacher or head teacher

This was 1978 and the town was Enid, Oklahoma. My girlfriend, Rita, was 17 and her sister, Mary, was 15. Their parents were very strict with them and were firm believers in corporal punishment, no matter the age. It was a Saturday afternoon and I had gone over to pick up Rita and take her to her part-time job. She was a waitress at a family restaurant. Her parents only allowed her to work there on Friday evenings and on Saturday and Sunday. The rest of the week was dedicated to homework and chores. When I got to the house, I

As I had wrote about earlier, my family was very religious and had a set routine when my sisters or I needed a spanking. My grandpa, on the other hand, while a regular church goer wasn’t nearly as religious but a firm believer in spanking naughty children. Prior to this incident, my sisters and I had our bottoms warmed by him a time or two each, but this memory is from when I was 11. My grandpa lived on several acres of land. The back of the land, while very pretty, backed up to some public hunting ground. In the

I grew up in a very religious home with two sisters. We were the family that went to church each Sunday and participated in the Wednesday church activities. My parents were both involved in the church and my father would become an elder in the church. We were always expected to talk the talk and walk the walk especially when in public as the perfect Christian family. If we dared misbehave or go astray of the expectations, my parents were very quick to teach you a lesson via your bottom. My sisters and I were no strangers to spankings. They

I proved to be something of a handful for my totally stressed out, but dear, mother whilst growing up, and was very often on the receiving end of a good wallop or two, on reflection probably well deserved. However, this escalated into a full-blown bend over, pants down leathering, not only once but twice; experiences I will never forget. The first time this occurred, I had been playing up a bit in school and the utterly hopeless teacher, who held absolutely no authority over her class, decided to throw the ball into my mother’s court by sending me home with

It was the Sunday before Christmas and I had promised to take Emily, my best friend’s daughter, to see Santa at the local shopping centre. However, there had been a road accident and the traffic was chaotic. We finally got to the car park at 3.45, knowing everything closed at 4.00 pm. We flew through the mall eventually getting to the grotto with just 5 minutes to spare. “Sorry, we are just closing,” the elf on the door said. “Come back tomorrow.” “I can’t because I am working, and Emily has been looking forward to meeting Santa, haven’t you dear?  Oh

I previously told the story of my first slippering, delivered by my father, at the age of ten. The act of recalling that incident naturally made me think of other times I was punished at home. On the first occasion, my brother Felipe was punished with me. Strangely, although we were twins and quite close, we never really discussed it afterwards. It was simply an incident we both wished to leave behind us. Felipe was the next to be slippered, for an incident at school I had nothing to do with. Although I did not witness his thrashing directly, I

I grew up in a family of four in Spain. There were my two parents, my twin brother, Felipe, and me. Felipe and I were born in the mid-1970s, so our childhoods stretched until the nineties, when corporal punishment was less frowned upon than it is nowadays. We were certainly not spared. Until we were ten, we were spanked across the knee of one of our parents, on our bare bottoms. Without knowing how often it happened to others, it’s hard to say if this was a common event, but I’d say we both averaged about six spankings a year.

Auntie Joan, mother of cousins Michael and Sally, was a lovely lady in many ways, but when it came to discipline, she was much like her sister, my mother, strict and swift, firm but fair. I spent many happy days and weeks there as I got on really well with my cousin Mike. There were times of course when boys couldn’t help but be boys, so with carte blanche from Mum, she was able to deal with both of us straight away before any distance crept between offence and consequences, which I suppose was best for all concerned. On the

It was a hot summer’s day during the school holidays. My sister Pat and me were having a day with our cousin Avril and our aunty Gillian in a local country park. All three of us were about the same age, 15 or 16, and we had all taken our bikes to let off some steam, despite the heat that day. Aunty Gillian set up a fold-away picnic table and chairs next to her camper van and sat in its shade reading her latest crime thriller which she seemed to digest with alarming speed. On what must have been our third or fourth