I’ve written couple of fictional short stories for the www.overthedesk.com website, but I would like to share with you a true recollection that happened a few years ago. It was late summer and I had a business meeting in central London. My wife wanted to come with me so she could go shopping for a new dress to wear at a friend’s wedding in a few weeks hence. Of course, I agreed but explained that I would need to attend the meeting first. Things didn’t go well from the start. I took a while to find somewhere to park, my

1961, a year I’ll never forget. At the tender age of 11, my mother, a single parent, calmly informed me one Friday night that she was sick of my general attitude and laziness. I had a choice, she said, I either lost my freedom and pocket money until she deemed I was back on track or I could pull down my trousers and pants and bend over the kitchen table to receive a one off short sharp shock treatment. To cut a long story short, in a show of bravado I opted for the latter, thinking a spanking would soon be