This is a work of fiction and is not based on real people or the author's actual experiences.
The author does not believe that children should be spanked. This fictional account is not an endorsement of spanking children. Only consenting adults should be spanked.
Although as an adult I have moved away from Alabama, both physically and intellectually, that is where I grew up. My mother and father met while working at the NASA Space Flight Center in Huntsville. My father had a Phd in electrical engineering and my mother had a Phd in physics. In short, they were both rocket scientists.
My mother had me a couple of years after they got married. She took a brief leave at the end of her pregnancy and during the first few weeks after I arrived. But then she returned to work.
About a year after I was born, my father founded a company that did underground mapping for the oil industry. In the early days, when the company was struggling, my mother's salary at NASA supported the family.
As the company my father founded grew, my mother started working there too. When I was about four my father died in an oil field accident. My mother was devastated, but she took over as CEO and is still running the company.
Like most parents in Alabama at the time, my mother was a firm believer in the effectiveness of spanking when it came to raising well behaved children. From about the age of three I got spanked whenever I misbehaved. At first the spankings were just a few smacks on the bare bottom. As I got older I got spanked over my mothers knee or, when I was a teenager, bent over the end of my bed.
Alabama is spanking country. When I was growing up, all of the children I knew were spanked when they were naughty. Paddles and punishment straps were passed down from one generation to the next. When one of my mother's friends was getting ready to give her daughter a spanking she commented to my mother that she had been spanked across her mother's knee with the same paddle. To this day spanking is allowed in Alabama schools.
My mother was someone who was always in control of her emotions. Perhaps this is what helped her continue after my father died. I'm sure that this was also useful when she was raising me, since I was what the other mother's described as a "handful".
Without a "man in the house" raising a boy, I think that my mother felt that she had to be a strict disciplinarian and I was spanked frequently. She was never angry when she spanked me, even when I gave her reason to be.
When I misbehaved I remember my mother calmly discussing how my behavior was unacceptable. She always asked why I had behaved that way. Usually my response was to look down at my toes and answer "I don't know". Then my mother would tell me that she was going to have to give me a spanking.
While I was protesting and promising to be a good boy, my mother would undo my pants and pull my briefs down to my knees. If I had been especially naughty and I knew that I was in for a hard spanking, I might already be crying when my mother put me over her knee for a bare bottom spanking.
Lying over my mother's knee, I was braced against her hip as she held me firmly with her left arm. I knew that I had been naughty and this felt comforting, at least until my mother started spanking me, when all I could think about was how my bottom felt like it was on fire.
My mother always spanked me until my bottom was red and I was sobbing as I lay over her knee. When the spanking was over, she would help me stand up and pull up my underpants and pants. Then she would hold me and tell me that she loved me until I stopped crying.
When I was younger my mother spanked me as soon as possible after I misbehaved. I would often get spanked in the kitchen or my mother would march me upstairs to my room for a spanking.
I remember one time when we were visiting a friend of my mother's I misbehaved and my mother took me into her friend's guest room, pulled down my pants and proceeded to give me a spanking.
When I got older my mother spanked me at bed time. When she told me to get ready for bed, she would add "I'll be up in a little while to give you your spanking".
I would go upstairs, brush my teeth and wash my face. I would not put on my pajamas if I was going to get a spanking, but just undress to my briefs. Then I would sit on the edge of my bed waiting for the sound of my mother walking upstairs.
She would sit on the side of the bed and I would have to stand in front of her while my mother talked to me about my behavior. If I gave more than a "I don't know" response, she always listened to me. In a few cases when I explained my side of what happened, she decided not to spank me. Those cases were rare, since she almost always had a good reason to warm my bottom.
When the discussion was over my mother would tell me to pull down my briefs, before bending me over her knee. Baring my bottom for my spanking showed that I accepted my punishment. On the few occasions when I protested and refused to pull my pants down, I got extra spanking.
When my mother finished spanking me, she would hold me until I stopped crying and tuck me into bed.
Soon after my eighth birthday, I did something to earn a spanking. At bed time, when my mother came up to my bedroom to spank me, she had a paddle in her hand. The paddle was about the size of a ping-pong paddle, but was made of dark hardwood. This was a spanking implement that I would come to know well in the coming years.
When my mother sat down on the bed she put the paddle down next to her. Standing in front of her as she discussed the reasons for my impending spanking, I could not take my eyes off the paddle. My mother explained that I was older now and she expected better behavior. Now if I misbehaved I would be spanked with the paddle.
When "the talk" was done, I reluctantly pulled my briefs down and bent over my mother's knee. She held me tightly over her knee and started spanking me with the paddle. I was shocked by how much the paddle hurt. It hurt much more than the hand spankings I had gotten up till then. Soon I was sobbing as the paddle punished by bare bottom. The paddling seemed to last a long time, but it was probably over sooner than a hand spanking since my the paddle reddened my bottom more quickly.
I cried for a long time as my mother held me before tucking me into bed.
After the paddling I was on my best behavior for a couple of weeks. Knowing that if I misbehaved I would be get another session over my mother's knee with the paddle did modify my behavior and my spankings became more infrequent.
After my thirteenth birthday a spanking strap was added to my mother's disciplinary arsenal. There was a saddle maker in town who had a side business making paddles and punishment straps. The strap my mother purchased was eighteen inches long and made from harness leather. It had a wooden handle, which allowed the strap to be applied forcefully across my bottom.
The strap appeared without prior warning, just as the paddle had when I was eight. One night, at bed time, I was undressed to my briefs, waiting in my bedroom for a well deserved paddling. When my mother came in to give me my spanking, I saw that she had the paddle that I was expecting to be spanked with and the punishment strap.
After the usual pre-spanking talk, I pulled down my briefs and bent over my mother's knee. I knew that I deserved a hard paddling and this is exactly what my mother gave me. When the paddling ended, I lay sobbing like a little boy over her knee.
When I stood up I discovered that my spanking was not over. Instead of holding me and comforting me, my mother bent me over the end of the bed with a pillow under my hips pushing my bottom up.
My mother told me that now that I was thirteen I would be whipped when I deserved it. Because this was my first whipping, I would only get ten strokes, but in the future I could expect more.
"The strap is going to hurt, but I expect you to show remorse and take your punishment", my mother told me. "If you get up, I will start over. If you try to cover your bottom or you move out of position, I will add an extra stroke to your punishment. Is that clear?", my mother asked.
I was still crying when I answered "Yes, Ma'am".
My mother told me to push my bottom up. I arched my back and presented by bottom for the strap. As I waited for the first stroke of the strap, I missed the comfort of my mother's embrace when she spanked me over her knee.
The strap cracked hard across by bottom, followed immediately by a deep burning pain. My bottom was already sore from the paddling and it was all I could do to stay still for the next stroke.
After taking the second stroke, I pushed into the bed, clenching my bottom against the pain and my mother ordered me to push my bottom up. When my buttocks where properly positioned, my mother brought the strap down hard across the lower part of my cheeks, just above my thighs. I cried out, jumped up and rubbed my bottom.
"What did I saw would happen if you got up?", my mother asked calmly.
"That you would start over", I answered between sobs. "Please, Ma'am... I couldn't help it. It hurts so much."
"Spankings are supposed to hurt and we both know that you deserve a long hard spanking. Now bend over the bed".
When I first bent over the end of the bed my briefs were around my knees. When I stood up, they fell around my ankles and I kicked them off as I danced around rubbing my bottom. I was naked when I bent over the end of the bed again to take my whipping.
"Now stay still and take your punishment, Honey", my mother told me. "If you had stayed in position you would be getting your forth stroke. But now we are going to have to start again at one."
After I pushed my bottom up, my mother brought the strap down hard across my buttocks. I managed to stay bent over the end of the bed, although my mother had to remind me to push my bottom up every few strokes. She added extra strokes when I rolled to my side after two especially painful strokes.
When my whipping was over my mother held me until I stopped crying and then tucked me in bed like a little boy. My bottom was still very sore the next day and the welts from the strap took a few days to fade.
I misbehaved a lot that year. My mother was working long hours running her company and perhaps I was trying to get attention. I think that she understood this and tried to spend time with me on the weekends. What ever the reason, I earned a whipping almost every week for about six months.
Most of the time my mother would paddle me over her knee before bending me over the end of the bed to finish my punishment with a whipping. If my behavior had been especially egregious I would get a long whipping of thirty or forty strokes, without a paddling first.
When I had to take a whipping, I learned to lie still over the end of the bed with my bottom pushed up, presented for punishment, to avoid getting extra strokes or worse, starting the whipping over.
Soon after my mother took over the company my father founded, she hired a full time nanny who I called Ms. Susan. Ms. Susan looked after me when I came home from school and worked with my mother to monitor my school work. She also did the grocery shopping and cooking on weekdays (she had weekends off). When ever possible my mother was home for dinner and the three of us ate together.
When my mother was looking for a nanny, one of her requirements was that the nanny would be willing to spank me when necessary. Ms. Susan grew up taking care of three younger brothers. She told my mother that she often had to spank one or more of her brothers. On a few occasions, when they all misbehaved, she lined her brothers up, youngest to oldest and spanked all three of them. After her three brothers she didn't think that she would have any problem warming my bottom when necessary.
I often felt like I grew up with two mothers. Both Ms. Susan and my mother kept a close eye on my school work. For minor misbehavior Ms. Susan would take me to my room, pull my pants down and spank me. However, if I had done something more serious she would talk to my mother about what I had done. Sometimes my mother would ask Ms. Susan to give me a spanking, but more often my mother would spank me at bedtime.
If my mother was traveling on business Ms. Susan would take care of me. I learned to be on my best behavior. Raising three rambunctious brothers had made Ms. Susan an accomplished spanker. When I got old enough for whippings I discovered that Ms. Susan's skill with the punishment strap resulted in some very memorable spankings.
Both my mother and father had PhDs, so education was very important to my mother. I went to private schools that were noted for their academic excellence. As was common at the time in Alabama, the schools I attended practiced corporal punishment and misbehaving students could expect to be spanked by their teachers or the assistant principle.
In elementary school spankings where almost always administered by teachers. If we talked in class or were caught passing notes or did not complete an assignment we had to stay after class for a spanking. If you were the only student kept after class, the spanking was administered as soon as the other students left the classroom. If more than one student was getting spanked, one student was kept in the classroom while the others waited their turn in the hall. This made the spanking even worse, since those of us who were waiting could hear the spanking being administered in the classroom. When the spanking ended the student would exit the classroom, face wet with tears, rubbing their bottom. Then one of our names would be called.
In my elementary school all of the teachers were women. Spankings were given on the bare bottom, with the student bent over their teacher's knee. In most cases we got hand spankings, but if the student had been particularly naughty we got spanked with a ruler.
In middle school we always got spanked with a paddle. If the offense was fairly minor, the teacher would keep the student after class and spank them. The paddling was always given on the bare bottom, bend over the teacher's desk.
For more serious offences, we had to stay after school for detention. Students who got detention were spanked my assistant principle, Ms. McLoed. When you got detention you had to wait in the principle's waiting room until you were called into Ms. McLeod's office for your spanking.
Compared to the previous assistant principle, Ms. McLeod was young. Looking back I think that she was probably in her late twenties. She was tall and very attractive. When Ms. McLeod first became assistant principle there was a rash of boys who had a crush on her who misbehaved to get detention so they could be spanked by the beautiful assistant principle.
I was one of those boys. I remember waiting outside of Ms. McLoed's office with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as I listened to one of my classmates being paddled. When the boy left her office he was still crying and was rubbing his bottom. When I was called into Ms. McLeod's office, I saw that she had a spanking paddle in her hand. After briefly discussing my offense, she ordered me to pull down my pants and bend over the desk. She pulled up my shirt, which had fallen down over my bottom. With my bottom properly bared, she held me down over the desk with her left hand while she spanked me with the paddle in her right. She used the paddle hard across my buttocks and after the first few strokes I was crying like a spanked little boy. The paddling seemed to go on for a long time and by the time it was over I was lying limply over her desk sobbing. Discovering that the beautiful object of my crush gave such a hard spanking assured that I tried to say out of detention in the future.
If I got a spanking at school, it meant that I would also get a spanking when I got home. The school always called my mother to tell her that I had gotten a spanking. I also had to bring home a form for either my mother or Ms. Susan to sign. The form listed the offence and the spanking I had received.
In the early grades of elementary school my teachers usually spanked me for things like talking in class, not paying attention or passing notes. Since my mother didn't get home until dinner time, Ms. Susan would spank me for being spanked at school. When I got home, Ms Susan was usually working in the kitchen. I would reluctantly hand her the spanking form that she had to sign. After she read it over she would sit down on a kitchen chair and talk to me about what I had done to earn a spanking at school. After the discussion she would tell me to pull down my pants. When my bottom was bared she would put me over her knee and spank me.
When I got older and I got a spanking at school, my mother would spank me at bed time. Just before bed time she would discuss what had happened at school and why I had gotten a spanking. Then she would send me upstairs to get ready for bed and to wait for my punishment.
When my mother came upstairs to punish me, there was no further discussion. She would sit down on the side of the bed and say "Over my knee, Honey" and I would have to pull my pants down and bend over her knee.
If I got a spanking at school, my mother viewed this as an academic failure that needed to be corrected with a good hard spanking.
After I was eight, the spankings I got for being spanked at school were always given with the paddle. After I started middle school, I often had to bend over the end of my bed for a whipping after I got paddled.
I was a good student and I never got a grade below a B. What got me in trouble in school was a smart mouth that was faster than the more prudent parts of my brain and a love of pranks.
In my last year of middle school, in late May, a few weeks before school was going to get out, it was a prank that earned me one last spanking from the lovely Ms. McLeod.
My social studies teacher was one of the few male teachers in the school, a Mr. Ward. He was a boring teacher who took himself very seriously. After spending a year with him droning on in class, an idea for a prank occurred to me. In my defence, let me state that at first I resisted the idea, but it grew on me until I felt like I had to do it. Naturally the guilty party was quickly uncovered, followed by a note to Ms. McLeod and detention.
When I reported for detention, the Principle's waiting room was empty and his secretary had gone home. The door to Ms. McLeod's office was open and I knocked on the side of the door.
Ms. McLeod looked up when I knocked and told me to come in and shut the door behind me.
She stood up and walked over to a couch that sat at the back of the room. She sat down on one end of the couch and indicated that I should join her.
When I sat on the other end of the couch, turned toward her, she started to ask me about the prank that I had played on Mr. Ward.
She asked a few questions and as I explained the prank Ms. McLeod started to smile and then, almost involuntarily, she started to laugh.
"I would have loved to see his face", Ms. McLeod said. Then, remembering that it was part of her job to punish such misbehavior she said, "Never the less, what you did is not acceptable", trying to sound stern.
I later found bout that Mr. Ward constantly made comments about what Ms. McLoed was wearing, her figure and her dating life. The type of comments that would get someone fired today, even in Alabama. But back then men could get away with this sort of thing. Although she could not say so, I suspect that Ms. McLeod enjoyed my account of the prank I played on Mr. Ward.
Ms. McLoed told me that she was going to have to give me a spanking. She said that she would give me a choice: I could bend over the desk and take twenty swats with the paddle across my bottom. Or she could put me over her knee and give me thirty smacks on each cheek.
When I replied that I would go over knee for my spanking, Ms. McLeod went to her desk and took a paddle out of the drawer. This paddle looked exactly like the paddle my mother spanked me with. I guessed that it had probably been made by the saddle maker who made my mother's paddle and the punishment strap.
"You know what happens next", Ms. McLeod said when she sat down on the middle of the couch.
I undid my trousers, which fell down to my ankles. When I pulled my briefs down to my knees I was embarrassed to find that I had an erection. Ms McLeod hiked up her skirt, baring her stocking covered thigh. She guided me over her knee with my upper body resting on the couch.
The silky feeling of Ms. McLeod's stockings under me while I lay across her knee and the gentle pat of the paddle on my bare bottom before the spanking started was my first erotic experience with spanking. This feeling was quickly replaced by the pain inflicted by the paddle when Ms. McLeod started spanking me.
She alternated sides, two hard, quick smacks, first on my right buttock, then on my left followed by a break of perhaps five seconds before the next pair of smacks.
I managed to lie still and take my spanking without clenching my buttocks. Although I tried to be brave and take my punishment in silence, after the first ten or so pairs of smacks I was crying like a spanked little boy.
The spanking that Ms. McLeod gave me probably only lasted about five minutes, but it seemed much longer. When my spanking was finally over she patted my bottom and told me that I could get up. I stood up and pulled up my briefs and pants. Ms. McLeod held me until I stopped crying, my head against her breasts.
She handed me a tissue so I could dry my eyes and blow my nose.
"School is almost over, so I trust that this will be the last time you have detention", Ms. McLeod said.
I assured her that I would be on my best behavior for the rest of the school year and that there would be no further pranks.
When Ms. McLeod gave me a spanking form for my mother to sign, I noticed that it said that I had been given twenty smacks with the paddle. I never told anyone that Ms. McLeod had spanked my over her knee.
That evening my mother sat me down in the living room before bed time and we discussed why I had been spanked at school. Like Ms. McLeod, my mother found my prank amusing, but she also didn't believe that this should excuse me from being spanked. She signed the form and set me upstairs to get ready for bed.
As I waited for my spanking, wearing only my briefs, I thought about the spanking that Ms. McLeod had given me. I dreaded the hard spanking I knew my mother was going to give me on my already sore bottom.
The first thing that I looked for when my mother came into my room was the punishment strap. When I saw the strap I knew that I was in for a whipping after I had been paddled.
When my mother sat down on the bed with the paddle in her right hand, I pulled my briefs down and bent over her left knee to take my punishment. I felt the smooth wood of the paddle pat my bottom. My mother told me that I would be getting forty smacks on each cheek with the paddle and twenty strokes with the strap.
My mother held me firmly with her left arm as she paddled me, alternating buttocks. She spanked very hard and soon I lay crying across her knee as the paddle punished my bottom.
When my paddling was over, I bent over the end of the bed for my whipping. I sobbing as I arched my back, pushing my bottom up, presenting my reddened buttocks for punishment. I managed to keep my bottom presented as my mother brought the strap down hard across my bottom, ten strokes standing on my left side and then ten strokes on my right.
When my spanking was over my mother held me until I stopped crying and then put me to bed, kissing me and turning out the light.
My mother's company provided funding for child care for all employees. Since my mother was the company CEO, the company employed Ms. Susan for my care. My mother often commented that she could not have built the company without Ms. Susan's help.
As a company employee, Ms. Susan had health care and matching funds for the company 401K retirement plan. She also had employee stock options in the company stock.
Ms. Susan had been taking care of me for ten years, since I was five. My mother's company went public when I was in my first year of high school. I didn't understand, at the time, was what this meant when it came to our finances. What I did understand was that Ms. Susan was leaving.
One evening, after dinner, my mother and Ms. Susan sat down with me and told me that Ms. Susan would be leaving at then end of April. Ms. Susan told me that she was going to travel for a year and then go to graduate school.
Growing up with Ms. Susan I thought of her almost like a second mother. Just as I always thought that my mother would be there, I thought that Ms. Susan would be too.
When people leave us it can be a bit like death, since they are no longer with us every day. My first response was denial. I had a hard time believing that Ms. Susan would actually leave. Denial was followed by anger, which manifested in misbehavior. Rather than spanking me, Ms. Susan talked to me about how she cared for me, but that she also had to live her life. Finally I accepted that Ms. Susan was going to leave, but I was still sad.
Two weeks before Ms. Susan was scheduled to leave, my mother was traveling for five days on business. During those five days when Ms. Susan and I were alone in the evenings, I felt especially close to her. We would cook dinner together and I would do homework in the evenings.
I thought about how much I would miss Ms. Susan. Not only would I not have her in my life, but I would never get another spanking from her. I generally tired to behave and avoid being spanked by Ms. Susan, but when she had to punish me I felt that she was spanking me because she cared for me. And now this would never happen again.
I spent several days sadly thinking about the fact that Ms. Susan was going to leave. Finally, just before bedtime, I gathered the courage to ask her to give me a spanking.
"Have you done something naughty that I need to spank you for?", Ms. Susan responded when I asked her to give me a spanking.
"No, Ma'am", I replied. I think that I must have been blushing, since my face felt hot.
"Then why do you want me to spank you?"
"Because you're leaving and you are never going to spank me again". Much to my embarrassment, I started crying softly.
Ms. Susan held me as I cried. When I stopped she said "I'll give you a spanking if that's what you want. But it is going to be a real spanking, just like I give when you have been naughty. Are you sure that is what you want?"
"Yes, Ma'am", I said softly.
"OK, Honey. Go to your room and get ready for bed."
I undressed to by briefs, brushed my teeth and washed my face. As I sat on the side of the bed waiting for Ms. Susan, I wondered what I was doing. I wanted the closeness and love that went along with Ms. Susan's spankings. But she had promised me a real spanking and I knew that I would be crying when she was done.
When Ms. Susan came into my room she was wearing a sleeveless white nightgown that came down to her knees. The nightgown had spaghetti straps and left her shoulders bare. Her blond hair cascaded down over her shoulders. This was one of the few times I saw Ms. Susan with her hair down. I thought that she looked very beautiful. She had the spanking paddle in her right hand.
Ms. Susan sat down on the bed next to me and talked to me about how much she cared for me and how it had meant a lot to her to take care of me as I grew up. She explained that I was older now and didn't need her as much. There were things that she wanted to do, like travel and going back to school.
I told her that I did need her and I started crying softly again. She put her arm around be and I rested my head on her shoulder.
"Do you still want me to give you a spanking", Ms. Susan asked.
"OK, Honey. But I want you to understand that if I give you a spanking I am going to punish you just like I do when you have been a naughty boy. It's going to hurt and you will be crying when I'm done. Once I start spanking you, I am not going to let you change your mind. The spanking is not going to stop until I decide it's over."
"Yes Ma'am. I understand."
"All right, love. Stand up and pull down your pants", Ms. Susan said
When my briefs were around my knees, Ms. Susan bent me over her knee. Her nightgown rode up when I lay across her thigh and I could feel her bare skin, smooth and warm under me.
Ms. Susan started spanking me with her hand, alternating sides. At first the intimacy of her thigh under me and her palm slapping my bare bottom felt good. She held me with her left arm as she spanked me and I could feel her body, warm and soft, under the thin cotton of her nightgown. I felt like I was a little boy who was loved and was getting the spanking he needed.
As Ms. Susan spanked me, the pain started to build and I started to let out little cries of pain. The hand spanking seemed to go on for a long time and I was close to crying by the time she stopped.
Ms. Susan caressed my bottom, running her fingers over my buttocks. My bottom felt like it had been toasted and her caresses felt good after the spanking.
The pleasure of Ms. Susan's caresses didn't last long and I felt her pat my bottom with the paddle, first one cheek, then then other. She tightened her hold on me with her left arm, holding me against her body, while she spanked me with the paddle, alternating buttocks.
When Ms. Susan punished me for being naughty, she spanked hard and fast, one paddle smack every few seconds. I suppose that because I had asked for this spanking and I had not been bad, the spanking was not as hard.
My bottom was already sore from the hand spanking and after ten smacks or so with the paddle, I was crying. Ms. Susan paddled me at a leisurely pace while I lay over her knee, crying. The pain of the spanking got more intense as she punished my bottom with the paddle and my cries turned to sobs. Finally I was lying limply over Ms. Susan's knee, my buttocks relaxed as she paddled me. She gave the last part of my spanking harder and faster, as I sobbed under the paddle.
I lay sobbing over Ms. Susan's knee after she stopped paddling me. She petted me while I caught my breath and my sobs turned to soft crying. Finally I got up and up and pulled up my briefs, rubbing my bottom.
Ms. Susan had me get into bed and lay next to me, with my head cradled on her chest and her arms around me. I could feel her breasts, soft and warm, bare under her nightgown.
"Did you get what you needed, Honey?", Ms. Susan asked when I stopped crying.
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you for spanking me. I wish you didn't have to go."
"I know, Honey", Ms. Susan said as she kissed my hair.
Lying next to me, she held me until I fell asleep. She was gone when I woke up in the morning. At first I thought that it might have been a dream, but then I felt my bottom, which was still very sore from the spanking she gave me.
Ms. Susan left at the end of the following week.