I sat on my bed, my heart hammering in my chest because I knew I had overstepped the mark. I had given my mum cheek in front of her best friend. I called her ‘auntie Pamela’ because my mum and she were like sisters and I really liked her because she was very good to me. My mum had only asked me to make coffee and I had told her I wasn’t her slave.

I knew better than to answer my mum back. She looked at me. “Are you never going to learn, Garry,” she said.

“Sorry mum, I was just joking.” I muttered.

“You will be, lad,” she said, reaching over for her cigarettes, giving my aunt Pamela one and lighting hers. “What do you think, Pamela?” She said, exhaling a long stream of smoke. “Cheek like that deserves a good hard dose of leather.”

“Please mum, I’m sorry!” I pleaded.

My aunt Pamela took a drag of her cigarette, put her head back and blew smoke out. “Surely not for that, Beverley,” she said.

“You’re far too soft, Pamela.” My mum said. “Let little brats like him off with anything and the next thing they are running rings round you.” My mum stood up, kicked her high shoes off and slipped her feet into her slippers. “Usually I would bend him over the chair in here and leather him, but seeing he is your favourite I will deal with him in his room. Upstairs lad!” She said.

I quickly ran upstairs. I was scared stiff. I could hear my mum open the cupboard where she kept the strap. I heard her come up the stairs and then she came into my room, leaving the door open.

“Trousers and pants down, boy!” She said. “Face down on your bed.”

She went over and shut the window so nobody could here my leathering. She rolled one end of the strap round her right hand.

“Please!” I pleaded.

“You have only yourself to blame, Garry.” She said.


I howled in pain after each stroke.

“Let that be a lesson to you.” Mum said, rolling the strap up. “Now get your pants and trousers up, go downstairs and apologise to your aunt Pamela.”

I pulled my pants up over my red hot bum. It was numb as usual after one of mum’s leatherings. I knew when the feeling came back into it, it would throb for the rest of the night. I limped downstairs as mum came behind me with the strap in her hand. When I went into the living room my face was burning with humiliation. My aunt Pamela looked shocked.

“Sorry aunt Pamela,” I muttered.

“Can I put this away now?” Mum said, holding the strap up.

“Yes,” I said.

She disappeared.

“You okay, son?” My aunt said.

“Yes,” I said.

My mum came back into the room. “I take it you have no problems making coffee now, Garry.” She said.

“No mum,” I said.

The feeling was coming back into my bum and I was glad of the time stood in the kitchen.