When I was growing up in the 1960s, spankings were few and far between, but I guess that made them more effective and more memorable. Sure, both my mum and dad used to give me a few swats on the back of my legs now and then and, grabbing my arms out of the way, once or twice on my trouser clad bottom, but actual over the knee spankings were kept for when I had really messed up.
Like the time I was watching the school football team play the neighbouring primary school down on our communal football pitch. I guess I was about 9 yrs old at the time. My dad had told me after school I was to go and get my hair cut, but I had conveniently forgotten, or maybe got too wrapped in the football game to remember. My older brother, Colin, was sent to get me, but I told him I couldn’t leave because we needed permission from the teacher.
Then my dad appeared, looking extremely angry. He grabbed my arm and pulled me away, planting a few well aimed smacks on the seat of my school shorts.
By the time we’d got up the hill to the garages outside our back garden, I already had a very sore bottom, and an audience watching the spectacle of a 9 yr old getting a fatherly spanking.
Pleading with him to make him wait till we got to my room, the spanks continued to rain down.
“If we go to my room,” I said. “I’ll let you spank my bare bottom.”
“I don’t need your permission!” He said firmly, as he began to pin me between his knees in the open air. Undoing the snake clasp on my belt, he undid my shorts and pulled them and my white schoolboy pants down to my knees. Then his big hard hand continued its assault on my now bare cheeks.
It wasn’t long before my fear and embarrassment of being spanked in front of everybody and the pain of the spanking from my dad’s hard hand on my bare bottom had me wailing and crying. Somehow in my struggling my shorts and pants had worked their way down and off my legs, so by the time he stopped I was totally naked from the waist down save for my socks and school shoes.
Thankfully he let me get dressed, again in front of everyone, and once I had gingerly pulled on my pants and shorts he led me through the small crowd and down to the barbers, where I had to sit on the chair. From my squirming and tear-stained face even the barber knew I had been well and truly spanked.