My mother was an accomplished disciplinarian. She used a two-handed grip, and the handle of the paddle was about a foot long. Even the first stroke sent pain shattering throughout my body. She waited at least fifteen seconds before licks and a minute between sets. This just made the pain build up exponentially.
My mom kept a paddle in plain view in the family room. It was an unvarnished, about three-quarters of an inch thick, with a long handle and three sets of dime- sized holes so that my bare butt would be blistered as well as bruised. It rested on a low bookcase which in itself was embarrassing as hell. There was also a punishment chair. If I was going to be disciplined, and this happened fairly often as a teen and young adult, I’d have to go to the family room, strip down to me jockey shorts, pull them down to my ankles and grab the front legs of the punishment chair so that my glut muscles were taut. It didn’t matter who was around. Mom would usually have me wait fifteen or twenty minutes before she was ready to paddle me.
She was always a strong, athletic woman. The minimum punishment was 10 whacks and the maximum 25. They were always delivered in groups of five. Mom always aimed very carefully. She’d deliver the first two just beneath the tail bone. The next two just beneath that. The fifth in the tender area between buttock and thigh. Then she’s repeat the same pattern going up. Then, if more than 10 whacks, down again up to 25. She used a two-handed grip, and the handle of the paddle was about a foot long, swung all the way back and laid on my bare ass with all her strength. Each lick sounded like the crack of a gun. Even the first stroke sent pain shattering throughout my body. She waited at least fifteen seconds before licks and a minute between sets. This just made the pain build up exponentially. Often enough, the beating was interrupted by a phone call. Mom would calmly explain that she was disciplining me and say she would call back.
Try as I might to avoid it, silent tears would fall down my cheeks after the first five whacks. Then gasps, muffled screams and, if the paddling was long enough, actual screams I was unable to muffle. It took all my strength to calmly pull up ,y jockey shorts and walk to my room afterwards. I’d be required, the door open, to take a cold shower, shampoo, soap, towel briskly then lay naked on a towel on my bed. Mom would sponge my butt with alcohol then swab it with iodine.
My butt was black and blue of course. The holes would raise blisters and, usually, the skin broken in several places. I still have faint marks from these paddlings and the whippings I’d receive Friday nights if I’d been paddled more than twice in one week. I’ve never been with a woman who hasn’t asked about them. At 25, I got a tattoo over the worst ones on my left cheek to distract attention. It had the opposite effect. Of course, this is nothing compared with the embarrassment at the time….
Mom spanked me the most, using only her hand, dozens of times so most of my memories are of her and me. She spanked very, very fast and covered every inch of my butt. The position I hated most was over her arm, because my feet were midair and my butt was at the best angle for spanking. She always told me to hold onto her arm and not let go, so I was helping her spank me harder in this position. She did this because once when I was on her lap before she started, I resisted. I closed my legs tightly together and clenched my butt cheeks as hard as I could and I couldn’t do this when over her arm.
Usually, when mom decided to punish me, I was told to take a bath, and only allowed to wear briefs. I was always so scared waiting in the tub, first for her to come in with very tight briefs (“spanking pants”) that I only got when punished because they squeezed my butt so the effects would linger for hours. Then she ordered me to get out and come to her. It was the walk of shame as I approached either her room or my room. Would it be on her lap, or ever her arm? Briefs pulled down or left up? A regular spanking or a super-spanking? With mom over the arm or completely nude was always a super-spanking. After getting spanked I had to sit in my chair for a time out or Mom would put me to bed, tuck me in on my back and would spank me again if I rolled over.
My mom gave me many spankings. Administered over her knee in private, they consisted of ten hard spanks with her right hand across the seat of my pants. Those ten felt like there was a fire in my pants. Mom spanked because she cared and wanted me to learn a valuable life lesson. She never beat, whipped or abused me and only spanked when necessary. My last spanking was at 19 years of age and still administered over her knee. Looking back, I respect my mother for the proper way spanked and wish she would be back and give me more over-the-knee discipline.
When my mom spanked, she applied what I called, Mom’s pre-spanking ritual, before every spanking she gave. First Mom asked what I had done that was naughty. When my answer was satisfactory, the next question was, “Now, what do I have to do?” The only acceptable answer was, “Give me a spanking.” Then Mom would pat her lap and say, “Over you go, young man.” When I was in proper position, over Mom’s knee, she asked, “Do you know why I am going to spank you?” After my answer Mom would tell me how many spanks I was going to get, which was normally 10 sound strokes. After all this, my spanking started, and Mom always made sure to give the exact number of spanks, she had prescribed. This procedure was applied with every spanking my mom gave, and often the pre-spanking ritual, took longer than the spanking itself. I would say, with the pre-spanking ritual, Mom was always very calm when she spanked, and I knew the procedure well, and exactly when my spanking was going to begin. Also, Mom only spanked with her hand, in private, over her knee, and on the seat of my pants. It was a spanking, not a beating, or whipping, only what people call “a good old fashion spanking.”
Quite severe and possibly bordering on abuse…but that he was a teen and young adult makes it more palatable. I do love a severe paddling…afterall, they are intended to hurt. Her paddle and technique obviously cause maximum pain and correction. To have to endure that paddling more that “twice in a week” must have been unbearable! Nicely written and I enjoyed it!
My mom always spanked my bare bottom, usually with the belt but sometimes other implements. Long sessions getting my mouth washed out with soap were also common.
My mother spanked me growing up. I was always was bare from the waist down and bent over some piece of furniture. Then Mom would begin with a hairbrush. On a number of occasions she’d stop to answer the telephone. To my horror she’d say I am giving Tony a spanking but come over anyway. Since we were in an apartment building, it was only minutes before one of our neighbors would arrive. They would be talking while I was being spanked. Whenever she finished I’d be crying and sent to stand in a corner. When I got married, Mom told my bride about the spankings. Didn’t take my wife long to resume the practice. Often she invites my mother or her mother over when I’m going to be spanked.
Nice story
Do you still get paddled? By whom and how often?
My mom and stepdad had a box of paddles in their closet which I would have to choose from before being required to disrobe and bend over their bed for 5 to 15 sizzling swats. I now administer paddlings when necessary.
Hi Glenn, Can you tell us some stories when you got discipline at 22? Thanks, Anthony
My mom spanked me regularly until the day I moved out at 22. I didn’t receive another spanking from her till three years later.
Glen, My mom gave me what I thought would be my last spanking at 19. But I was wrong, Mom spanked me again when we reenacted the first spanking she gave me, I went over her knee at age 41!
My mom used to spank me bare bottomed until I was 16. It really hurt.
But I’m sure you missed it when she stopped spanking your bare ass.
You are right. When mine stopped after moving out, I didn’t realize I was missing the guidance and consequences. On one of my step mom’s visit, she realized I still needed it.
Yes, I certainly missed it when my mom stopped spanking my bare bottom at 20. When I got my own apartment, it took me a year to realize how important her discipline was and finally had the nerve to ask her to continue spanking me. Thank you kindly, Mom, for spanking me.
It goes to show that some people are never too old for a motherly bare-bottom spanking. A mother’s love lasts forever and a day.
My mom gave me spankings over her knee until I was 19. She had a set of rules for all her children, and when a rule was broken, mom spanked whoever had broken one of her rules. My mother was a great mom, the best anyone could have, but she was a mom who spanked every time she thought a good spanking was needed.