The Fight about the Car

When I was young, I got my bottom spanked by my mother pretty regularly. She kept a paddle for her children’s bare behinds and wasn’t afraid to use it.

One day when I was about eight, I had my friend Jordan come around to play, and he brought some of his many toy cars with him. We were having tons of fun upstairs in my bedroom – until I decided I wanted to play with one particular car (I don’t even remember what it was now) that Jordan didn’t want to share.

In my rage, I snatched the toy from his hand and threw it out of my open bedroom window. What I didn’t know was that my little sister Kathy was out in the garden – and the car hit her on the head as it flew down from my window.

Fortunately, it was only a slight, glancing blow and Kathy wasn’t at all seriously hurt – but needless to say, she made the most of it and ran into Mom, crying her eyes out.

Well, the car could only have come from one place, of course, so after checking that her little girl was OK, Mom rushed up to my bedroom, where Jordan and I were by now having a blazing argument over that toy.

As soon as he saw a female figure of authority, Jordan immediately complained about me stealing his toy and throwing it out of the window. In about just one sentence, I was condemned and found guilty – and at that point, I knew execution would inevitably follow pretty quickly.

Mom went to her bedroom and I heard a drawer opening. I’d heard that sound often enough to know that she was getting out the old Fli-Back paddle she kept for disciplining us. A few moments later she, was back in the room, and sure enough carrying the instrument of correction.

Mom stood there for some moments, scolding me soundly in front of my friend and emphasising a point occasionally by smacking the paddle ominously against her hand.

Finally, she pronounced sentence. “I’ve had enough of your behaviour today, Allan! Drop your pants and bend over right now!”

I opened my mouth to protest but before I could utter a word, Mom said: “Do as I say, unless you want Kathy see you being spanked as well!” I was getting quite body-conscious by this age, so I complied and pulled down my pants. “Underwear too!” Mom said, mercilessly. I was facing Jordan as I took my underpants down and he was looking into my eyes gleefully as I assumed the position.

I felt Mom move closer behind me and then her arm came around my waist. I remember my knees wobbling with fear as I felt the wood being measured against my bare butt. Then it was withdrawn and quickly brought down with force, sending a wave of stinging pain through my rear end.

I lost count of the spanks at about 10 and Mom had to hold me very tightly to keep me in place for the rest of my punishment. I had wanted to be brave in front of my friend but in the end, I cried like a toddler getting his first spanking.

Once the spanking was done, Mom put me in the corner, hands on my head. She sent Jordan home and went back down to check on Kathy.

To complete my humiliation, Jordan subsequently told many of our mutual school friends about how I’d had to take my pants down to have my mom spank me like a baby. For a long time after that, a couple of the most merciless girls would tease me about it and ask: “Have you been a good boy for your mommy today, or has she had to spank your bare bottom?”

It took a while to live it all down, and that was really the end of my friendship with Jordan.