When I was a teenager, probably 16, maybe 17, I was a real brat, getting into bother at the drop of a hat. It really was just a phase, because by 18 I was a totally different person. These events took place in a shopping centre in France when we were on holiday. It had been a very hot and extremely humid couple of days, and tempers were wearing a little thin. As usual, I was being a real little madam, and mum was rapidly running out of patience with me. We had been in a big supermarket shop, and before that we had

I grew up in an Irish Catholic family with two sisters, one a year older and one a year younger. My father was a police officer and mother a stay-at-home mom. My parents were very strict and definitely spanked for serious infractions. We were all spanked, usually by Dad, but Mom had no problem putting us over her knee. Spankings were typically done in our bedroom where we had to wait for Dad. He would come in for a lecture, then he would sit on the bed and we would have to take our pants down and go over his

Two friends spanked in the woods by a dog walker A long time ago, when we were either 8 or 9 years old, Pat (Patricia) and I were very good friends and spent a lot of time playing in the local park or the thick woods that backed onto it. It was the summer school holidays and by mid-August we were running out of things to do. On this especially warm day, we sought relief from the heat in the woods. We both had our wellies on as, although it was almost 30 degrees in the park, a summer storm had passed through the

This happened in Yorkshire in 1962 when I was 13. On my way back from school, I would often cut through an old orchard. I had never seen anyone there although I knew there was an isolated cottage nearby. I was making my way along the path when it was blocked by a big older man who asked me what I was doing on this land. I was a nice, polite middle-class boy and explained that I didn’t realise it belonged to anyone, which was true, but he was really rough with a strong Yorkshire accent and said that wasn’t

I am originally from Uganda, but moved to England with my mother and her then husband, who was with her for about 6 years, when I was aged 9 to 15. He is a rich man, a pastor from England. He was strict man, but easily angered. My first time of feeling his wrath was when I accidently said a swear word. I didn’t know it was a bad word. I was, at a guess, aged 11. My mum was furious with him for slapping me across my face, but he would go on and on about discipline. Lol! My first real

My father was a civil servant with the Foreign Office and often attended meetings all over the world. Mum usually stayed at home, or if not I would stay with Aunty Peggy who only lived 5 minutes away. One particular summer holiday, father was to attend a week-long series of meetings in New York and mum was desperate to go, so Aunty Peggy was drafted in as cover. She was a spinster and enjoyed the company. However, two days before the trip, Aunty Peggy was rushed into hospital with gallstones and was to be kept in until she could be operated on. Mum was

When I was about 17 years old, went on holiday in France. Mum, dad and my sister Chloe were staying at a gite in Normandy, about 500m from a D-day landing beach. Chloe and dad were off exploring yet again, mum was getting lunch ready, and I was bored out of my mind. A dream family holiday on the landing beaches is great if you are into the history of World War 2, which I was not. I wandered through a couple of fields on a footpath which led to a small farm yard surrounded by apple trees with small bright

It was 1974, and I was 12 years old. It was considered to be the normal thing to be physically punished by our parents for wrongdoings. For me, it would usually be dad’s belt which was referred to as ‘The Strap’, and for my sisters it would be ‘The Brush’ which hung in the hallway, and would be administered by mum. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was playing out with friends when somebody suggested we cross the railway line and go onto a neighbouring estate. I was hesitant because my parents had always warned me not to go near

Half a lifetime ago I did English and Drama at A-level in school. Each year, we put on two shows, one modern on Shakespeare. In the upper sixth, we had a new head of English, Miss West. Rather than the traditional school favourites of Romeo and Juliet or Hamlet, she decided on The Taming of the Shrew. Casting was done and I was cast as Petruchio whilst the school hottie, Rachel, was cast as Katherine. I’ll be honest at this point; I did not know why I was getting all sorts of winks, smiles and you lucky bast**d comments. I had read the original work. However,

My husband and I have just returned from the woods located in a county park less than 2 miles from our home. We often go there and sometimes play role-play games in the woods where no one will see us. Today we got more than we bargained for. Having walked about 250 metres into the wood, we were heading for a good location to act out one of our spanking games we often play. We knew of a clearing about 50 metres ahead, but just before we reached it we heard raised voices coming from the clearing and we wondered if some like-minded