Garry tells about his first experience of the strap

It was a very hot day and my mum was sunbathing in the back garden. I was playing about with a ball and she she had already warned me not to kick it near her as she had a large glass of wine lying in front of her. I gave the ball a kick, it flew into the air and came down on her bare back, and mum shrieked.

As it was such a fine day, all the neighbours were out and they all looked in our direction. Mum reminded me of the warning she’d given me, caught me by the arm and dragged me into the house. She sat down on the sofa and pulled my shorts and pants down. I started to cry softly as she pulled me over her knee.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK, her hand came down again and again, and my bum was stinging like hell. I snivelled that I wouldn’t do it again and at last she stopped. I pulled myself up and rubbed my sore bum, then pulled my pants and shorts up. Mum joked that my bottom must be smarting because her hand was on fire.

Before going back out to her sunbathing, mum told me that if I gave her any more nonsense she’d use a sandal on me. When she’d gone I eased my shorts and pants down and gently rubbed my sore bottom. I eventually ventured back out and I could see all the neighbours looking because they had heard my punishment.

My bottom was still throbbing when mum said we were going to the garden centre for lunch, and that she was going to phone my nan. ‘Oh goody,’ I though, because my grandmother was even stricter than my mum.

I watched her getting ready and, just before we left, she gave me a final warning that I should be on my best behaviour or it would be a leathered backside. I sighed. She looked at me sharply and told me not to dare take that attitude or I’d go over her knee again before we left.

Despite me desperately trying to reassure her I would be well-behaved, mum told me she was beginning to think she needed something firmer to chastise me with. Then she told me that when she was my age my nan had already leathered her with the strap.

In those days, mum used to drive a little Mini and we went to pick nan up. As they greeted each other, I just sat in the back with a sullen look on my face. Of course, nan asked what was wrong with me and mum told her that I’d already had my bare bottom smacked that day. My grandmother replied that what I needed was a taste of leather and that mum should leave me to stay at nan’s that night so she could warm my backside.

My heart sank. I could see my mum was considering it and then nan told her it would be the same strap my mum was leathered with. My mum declined, though, and said she had her eye on a good thick strap in the workwear shop in town. My heart sank. I knew my behaviour was terrible but the thought of a leathering with a leather strap filled me with dread.

We arrived at the garden centre and mum told me she couldn’t get a strap today because it was Sunday but that if I didn’t behave she would leather my bottom.Nansaid that I had attitude and that if I was hers she would be taking me somewhere quiet and leathering me right now.

Suddenly my temper rose. I didn’t realise it was temper at that age but it was to get me into trouble again and again through my teenage years.

“Do you think I am scared, nan?” I sneered. “I hate you. Every time we go anywhere with you, you have to spoil it. Go on, leather me. See if I am bothered.”

My mum stopped half out of the car, and my nan was sitting with her mouth open.

I realised instantly I’d over-stepped the mark and stammered my apologies. Mum told me I was for it big time. If that wasn’t bad enough, the visit to the garden centre was forgotten and we went straight to my grandmother’s house.

No sooner were we inside the door than mum pulled my trousers and pants down. Then, while she held me upright, nan appeared with a large strap and lashed me across my bare backside. After a while, mum took the strap and gave me another dose. Then I had to apologise to them both again.

GB