When we were mid-teens, I was playing table tennis with my boy cousin who is a year or so older than me. We were (and still are) great friends and there was really something between us. I loved him dearly and he treated me somewhat between a girlfriend and a sister.

Anyway, the ball went under the table and as my cousin bent down to pick it up, I swatted him on the butt with my bat.

“Ow!” he said. “Stop it!” as the ball went a bit further under the table.

He bent down again to pick the ball up and I couldn’t resist giving him another right good swat on his cute bum. Unfortunately, he also banged his head on the table as he jumped.

“Ow! You brat!” he yelled, jumping up.

The result of course was predictable! He grabbed me, took the bat out my hand and led me over to a chair.

I squealed, “No! No!” but over his knee I went.

Spank! Spank! Spank!

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” I yelled. The bat was hard! It stung!

Spank! Spank! Spank!

“Oweeee!” I yelled as he let me up.

I got up clutching a stinging butt, which was now a good deal warmer than it had been!

“Rat!” I said.

“Now let me get that ball,” he said, “unless you want another paddling.”

“No I don’t! That really stung.”

“Good!” he said and grinned. “You deserved it.”

I rubbed my butt as he got under the table again and retrieved the ball. We got on with the game, me with a stinging butt. Despite (or because of) the spanking I was overcome with fondness for the guy.