This memory comes from the same holiday as the previous one and describes the hardest and longest spanking I ever received.

We arrived at the chalet before noon and spent a while unpacking and sorting out where everything was to go in the chalet. Rebecca and I had been quiet and well behaved on the remainder of the journey with our bottoms tender and throbbing. When the accommodation was all sorted we had lunch and then got changed for the beach.

It was a glorious summer’s day, really hot and I wore a bikini to go down to the sea. The briefs were quite small and did not quite cover the evidence that I had been recently spanked, so I was keen to get straight in to the water where no one would see the marks on my bottom. Barney, our dog, came with me. It was his first ever visit to the seaside and he was wildly excited, chasing seagulls off the sand and into the sea, digging holes and having a thoroughly good time. The sea water was very soothing on my bum and in a short while it was as if my spanking was a distant memory. I began to really enjoy the holiday and forget all about the humiliation of my public punishment. I had a really nice day and knew I was going to really enjoy it here.

The next day, I was awake early and went straight out to the beach with Barney before breakfast. We ran around on the sand and I threw him sticks to fetch for about an hour. It wasn’t quite warm enough yet to get in the sea but I could tell it was going to be another scorcher. Well, I was right about that!

I should point out at this point that Rebecca was not sharing my enthusiasm. She was very hormonal around that time and her moods were very unpredictable. Although she had been excited the day before, she had also recently acquired a boyfriend back home and didn’t want to be apart from him.

After her spanking in the lay-by, she had gone into a sulk that the sun and sea failed to lift and after breakfast on this second morning she took herself off into the town to buy postcards so that she could write to her beau and tell him how much she missed him.

So it was just me and Barney back on the beach after breakfast and again I was in my bikini. We had been out for about another hour playing in and out of the sea when we came across a group of boys playing football. Normally I would have asked to join in but I only had flip flops on which were no good for kicking a ball with. However, Barney took it upon himself to join in their game and chase the ball wherever it went, which delighted the boys.

I went over to get him, thinking that one of the boys was quite good looking and this would be an opportunity to get myself a little romance as Rebecca seemed to be enjoying hers and I wondered what all the fuss was about. I started chatting to this boy, apologising for Barney and asking where he came from in my clumsy, inexperienced way and we seemed to be getting on quite well when one of the other boys came up to me and said: “Hey, you’re that girl that got slippered in the lay-by!”

I was so embarrassed; I could tell that my face had turned bright red. The boy, and his friends started laughing at me and one of them said: “Let’s see your bum then” and grabbed my bikini bottoms and yanked them down.

I spun around and punched him hard on the nose. Immediately blood started pouring from his nose. He looked shocked, then he started to cry and ran away. I pulled up my bikini briefs and clenched my fists, daring any of them to try anything, but they all backed off and I turned round, called Barney and ran back to the chalet.

I didn’t want to tell Mum and Dad what had happened, I was so ashamed, and I tried to stay out of sight so that they wouldn’t see that anything was the matter and ask me about it. Then I looked out of the window and I saw the boy with the bloody nose and a woman, who I assumed to be his mother, heading our way. She was asking the boys who were still hanging around something and they pointed to our chalet. I knew that this woman was on her way to tell my parents that I had beaten up her son. I panicked. The boy’s T-shirt was soaked in blood and I didn’t think I was going to convince anyone that I had not over reacted.

Without further ado, I grabbed the slipper from where it lay next to the sofa and ran out of the chalet.

“Hey,” shouted Dad, getting up and following me, but I was away across the sand and before he could catch me I had reached the water’s edge and hurled the slipper as far as I could into the sea. Dad reached me seconds later and would likely have run in after it had he not been fully clothed and wearing his good shoes. He grabbed hold of me with a face like thunder, not comprehending what could have led me to do such a thing, then he took hold of my arm and dragged me back towards the chalet.

On the way, the boy and his mother met us and she started on a rant about how I had beaten her precious child. He looked much smaller than I had thought when I hit him and I could see that Dad was not going to take my side. Dad sat down on the sand, legs stretched out in front of him and pulled me down across his lap. He yanked down my bikini bottoms and brought his hand down hard on my bare bottom. He repeated this three more times, then decided that for this spanking he needed to roll his sleeves up. The four smacks I had were quite hard and stung my bum, but were not as bad as the slipper. The thing that hurt the most was that that horrible boy and his horrible mother were watching. When Dad’s sleeves were rolled up the spanking resumed, hard and fast and I had counted another six when I heard Barney barking excitedly. I thought, good dog, he’s trying to protect me and then I heard Dad say: “Good dog,” and he reached over me to pick up the soaking wet slipper that my faithful friend had retrieved from the sea.

My bottom was already sore before the first whack with the wet leather. It was a lot sorer after the 30th.

When it was over and I was sent inside, I tearfully explained what the boy had done to make me hit him and Dad was actually quite sympathetic but it was too late by then to prevent the spanking.

That was not the last time I got the slipper from my Dad but it was certainly the longest and hardest. However, the boy I had been chatting to before the brat came over was very sorry for me about what had happened and we became quite friendly during the rest of the week and as he was the biggest boy amongst that group, none of them dared to tease me again. Or maybe it was because they had seen what a good right hook I had!