January 20th, 2018

Memory of a female cousin being spanked

Probably my first recollection of spanking being a turn on was nearly 35 years ago. I was sent to my aunt and uncle’s home to stay for the night and following day. My parents had to go out of town and my aunt was to watch over me for a day or two.

I was around 9-10 years old at the time. My aunt and uncle lived on a rural southern Indiana farm. They had two children. Their son was around 16 years old and their daughter was about 14-15 years old. Even though they were considerably older than myself, I enjoyed having them to play with.

I was at their house to spend the night. That evening, my cousin, Barbara, and I were in the family room watching TV. I was on the sofa and she was lying on the floor in front of me. It was getting late, or at least late for a kid my age to be up. I believe it was around 9:30 pm or 10 pm. She was laying on the floor on her stomach looking at a magazine and listening to the TV. Her parents were in the kitchen. Her mom was doing dishes and my uncle was drinking coffee at the table.
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January 12th, 2018

General Store Memory

I was doing a youth training scheme at the time in a small general store with this couple in their late 50s who owned it. They were really strict with me as they told my scheme manager they would be.

I was not 18 yet, so I was still classed as a youth and I’d still be punished as if was at school or home. With this in mind, I behaved and did as I was told for a few months, but then I started making mistakes. Then I got my first punishment from them after they give me 3 chances to improve my work rate.

They took me in the office and gave me a stern talking to before telling me I would receive my first punishment. It would be the belt across my underwear and I would get it once the shop had closed.

5pm came and the shop was shut. I headed to the office for my punishment. I was told to remove my shoes and jeans and bend over the desk to receive 8 strokes of the belt. I took the first 3 well but the last few I struggled with as they used full force across my tanga pants.

A few months later, I again received punishment. This time it was the cane on my bare bottom for being cheeky to a customer.
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January 12th, 2018

Getting Even

We had a system at school for dealing with girls who we considered had been out of order or had snitched on another girl. It was quite simple really. We lined up along the gym wall and formed a tunnel with our hands on the wall and forced her to enter one end and exit the other. She had no choice, she would have been pushed in if necessary and as she made her way to the other end she would be kicked or get her bottom smacked as she passed by. The system was in place long before I started there and the teachers tended to turn a blind eye to it.

One girl who wasn’t well liked emerged rather battered from her ordeal; she hadn’t been quick enough through. The day after, her mother had been in to school and made a serious complaint about it. The day after that, the boys were sent out of assembly and the headmistress stood on the stage. She made it quite clear that the school would not condone what she called a barbaric practice, plus all the girls involved would be identified and caned.

She read out three names and asked them to stand. She then asked for the girls to admit they were part of it by also standing up. Two did, and the rest of us stayed firmly seated. The five of them were sent to her office for six of the cane.
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January 7th, 2018

A boy’s severe leathering at home

This is an account of a severe leathering I got off mum and nan. I was about 11. It was the summer holidays so mum was off on holiday too. I had been acting up all day. I’d had a good spanking over mum’s knee before lunch for cheek, then another one in the afternoon for the same. Then just before tea I got a leathering on the bare backside with mum’s strap and sent to bed. My bottom was tender and sore, I can tell you, but I was still feeling like doing everything mum told me not to.

There was a house being renovated up the street and an older girl called lynn was outside. I was leaning out my bedroom window.

“You coming out, Garry?” She said.

“No, I’ve been sent to bed,” I said.

“So are you scared to come out?”

“No,” I said.

“Come on then,” she teased me.

“Right,” I said. I would regret it.

I sneaked downstairs. I could hear mum in the kitchen. She was having a cigarette, and she heard me.

“Where are you going, lad?” She shouted.

“Out!” I shouted, and opened the front door, running out in my pyjamas and slippers.

She tried to catch me. “In, lad,” she shouted.

“No!” I shouted back and ran up the street to the older girl.
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January 6th, 2018

School and other memories

I recall as a youngster being fascinated by the cane and the idea of someone being spanked, although I wasn’t spanked at home. I do remember watching Billy Bunter on TV; he was always getting caned, so maybe this was the cause. But I do remember such thoughts at age about 7 or 8.

An incident that occurred while staying at my grandparents, who lived in a different town, also excited me. I was playing at the house of a friend there one evening, in the living room with both our mothers present. We were playing round the table and he just stopped running round, stood still with his legs slightly apart and deliberately wet his pants.

His mother was not amused! She took him into the next room where I heard some shouting followed by the unmistakable sound of a belt landing, accompanied by howls. When he emerged, he didn’t look any too happy, clearly having been strapped for his antics. I often wished I had the courage to pee myself like that. And the thought of getting strapped for it too? Well, that made the whole prospect seem so exciting.

At primary school, if you misbehaved, then you would get smacked by the teacher. That would involve either, if necessary rolling up the sleeve, getting you arm slapped, or else, at this time, boys wore short trousers, pulling up the trouser leg, or skirt if it was a girl, just enough to allow the thigh to be slapped.
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January 5th, 2018

A Typical School Slippering

I was late for biology. Lateness with Miss H had happened for a couple of the girls previously and the resulting bottoms were not something you courted. I ran down the corridor slap bang into my art teacher; the drawings she was carrying flew everywhere. I was very apologetic and helped her pick the drawings up. She knew I was late and delayed me as long as she could before demanding I see her at 4 o’clock.

I scurried along to the biology lab, only to find a line of girls still waiting for Miss H. It occurred to me I had rushed for nothing and now had an after school meeting with my art teacher. 4 o’clock arrived all to quickly for me. It’s amazing how slowly time can pass when you are willing it to speed up, and to my surprise I wasn’t the only one she wanted to see, for there at her door were three other. All were either first or second years. I, a fourth year, must have stuck out like a sore thumb.

We were all called in together and this had me worried. There was no doubt she would slipper me; I expected nothing less, but in front of a boy, surely not. It turned out we had all broken one or more of the school rules that day and our bottoms were going to pay the price. She kept the boy and sent the rest of us out. One of the girls asked me what would happen next.
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December 28th, 2017

Cross country

Twice a year we heard the dreaded words ‘it’s cross country today, girls’.

My heart would sink for I hated it. It was a run round the school and its perimeter rather than a cross country. It was something I could easily achieve but didn’t want to. As a sixteen year old, running around the school in your knickers didn’t seem cool so I made the decision to duck into a gap where dustbins were stored. I knew the line would pass the other side on its way back and re-joining would be easy.

I realised idea my was not original when I found myself with a bunch of other girls pulling the same stunt. As the gaggle passed the other side, we blended in one at a time and then ran back to the gym for a shower.

As we arrived back at the gym, the changing rooms and showers were to the right, but Miss Winton, with a piece of paper in her hand, sent me left before ticking my name off her list. I found myself in a line consisting of those who had cheated; how she knew I’ve never worked out but, as the last arrived back, reprisals began.

One at a time, we were called into the gym to bend over the leather buck. Miss Winton’s thick ruler was raised and was soon cracking hard into offending backsides. The usual expectation would have been for her to stop at six, but no, she was making an example of us and didn’t stop until we had all received twelve.
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December 24th, 2017

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Seasons Greetings to all our authors and readers, and for the many who kindly email to pass on their thoughts about our stories.

December 18th, 2017

Visiting my Domme for the Cane

None of this ‘special, but secret’ part of my life makes a lot of sense, I know. I am a single woman, in my mid 30s and so at the time of life when the search for a man can be at its most frantic. I also have a very good, very well paid job that I genuinely enjoy; quite frankly I love it. I am still decent looking; I have quite a good figure (careful diet, gym at least twice a week without fail). I dress well (I have to for my job) and even though I say it myself I scrub up well too. I do splash out a bit on good cosmetics but I certainly don’t need to shovel it on. I can get my work face together in less than ten minutes although if we have anything special going on I do make an extra effort, obviously. I am well educated and although I didn’t quite make Oxbridge, I didn’t miss by much.

So why spanking? Well, somewhat at a loose end after my last relationship broke down about two years ago (my boyfriend and I pretty well walked out on each other) I googled ‘spanking’ one night and was absolutely astonished at the amount of material that came up. I had some experience of being spanked from an earlier relationship although it was distinctly of the fun sort, but reading through the web pages it looked like I must have been the only person in the country not participating!
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October 9th, 2017

Leatherings and Beltings

M and I were talking about the old days tonight and she says it’s about time I told you about my leatherings and beltings as there were plenty; a lot more than the ones I’ve already told you about, so here goes.

One I remember well was when I was in primary 4. I was mucking about at school flinging stones and I hit a girl called Janice Morgan on the forehead, cutting her head. She was taken into school by her pals. I remember all my pals saying: “You’ll get the belt,” and feeling really scared. The head, Mrs Glover, was a strict old teacher and she had two belts, one little black one with no split at the end, for everyday use, and a big brown one with a split leaving two nasty tails for special occasions.

She appeared at the front doorway. The playground went quiet.

“Garry Brown!”

She pointed at me.

“Inside, lad.”

My heart skipped a beat. I put my head down and entered the school, but she hit me across the back of the head as I passed her. She didn’t have an office as she taught. She took me to her classroom.

“You’re lucky, my boy,” she said. “Janice doesn’t need stitches. Do you realise she could have lost an eye?”
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