My daughter and I spend New Year with my mom and dad, and during that time dad told the story about when I was 12 years old and was caught playing with fireworks. It was 1 January 1997, and I had been allowed to visit one my friends, a boy named Thomas, during my time at his house. Thomas and I found some small fireworks that were left over from the night before and we started to light some of them and tie some of them together to maybe get a bigger explosion. Of course, it made some noise and

I was born on a cold rainy autumn day in mid-Norway in 1965. I’m not sure this has anything to do with how I turned out, but it is a fact it wasn’t the nicest of days. My mother is originally from Eslov in southern Sweden and my dad from Stavanger in Norway. They met when they both worked at Oslo University Hospital. Dad was a trauma surgeon and was teaching there as well, and mom was a surgical/theatre nurse at the same hospital. They were both interested in charity work and were linked to a French organisation that send

Ted was my first proper boyfriend and my first spanking partner. We lived at opposite ends of the same street and had classes together in maths and history at GCSE, and maths in the sixth form. We started dating when we were both 17 and were in the upper sixth form. Both of us were spanked by our mothers. My mother was an over-the-knee and over the knickers sort of woman, his mum was a bare bottom spanker, and often with a hair brush, even at his age. Spanking first reared its head when he picked me up one Saturday afternoon and I was

When my aunt found out I told my cousins she would never spank me, she proved me wrong. This is my ‘you know I will spank you’ Auntie spanking to prove a point and I remember everything like it was yesterday. I was 8 years old, in the spring, and the first spanking from Auntie for me. It was another long weekend that I was staying with my aunt, uncle and cousins Johnny, Patty and Joey, all of who I loved. I was the oldest in my family, but the baby when I stayed with them, and I loved that

I attended a small fee-paying primary school in the early 1970s. All the teachers were older women. For a 7 or 8 year old that, of course, meant anything over 35! The headmistress, Mrs Ashcroft, was the only one who was allowed to cane, but I am not sure it was ever used. Certainly, no one ever owned up to having received it. She did employ, as most teachers of this era did, a slipper when the need was there, but generally she was a hand spanker.  Her favoured position was the child bending over the back of a small chair with her

Growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, a clip round the ear for some misdeed was not out of the ordinary and would certainly not have been reported back to your parents. One such encounter happened in 1979. I was in the local corner shop goofing around as most 15 year olds do. “Excuse me, can you not do that please,” said Mrs Dobbs the shop keeper, as I was picking up and putting back sweets into my pick-and-mix bag. “If you are not going to buy a sweet, don’t pick it up; other people don’t want your germs on their

I want to submit my story of the first spanking my dad gave me. I call it my Father’s Day spanking because I realized dad would now spank me when I misbehaved. Before this, only mom spanked me and it really wasn’t effective anymore as I constantly acted like a spoiled brat. In all honesty I don’t think what I did justified dad spanking me. I think he used it as an excuse to show me that he would be disciplining me now. I was about 6 years old and it was in the summer. I was wearing a very tight, brief

I was my mom and dad’s only child. My dad was active duty with the US Army. For those unfamiliar with that term, it means my father’s full-time career was the military. For the first few years of my life I didn’t live in any one place very long, because my dad would be assigned to different posts (bases) around the United States. This is a normal part of life for military families. I lost my mother to cancer when I was 5. The memories I have of her are sweet and kind, but unfortunately we just didn’t get to

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

It was 1962 and I was twelve years old when I got my first real slippering from my father. As a younger boy I’d had a couple of whacks on the backside with his leather sandal, and a fairly mild over the knee spanking when I was about nine or ten, but nothing that really hurt. I had never been caned at school either. Unfortunately I was a somewhat rebellious boy and had a penchant for shoplifting. Anyway, I was at a large shop in Newquay, Cornwall, a town we had moved to when I was nine. There was a