My First Real Spanking Experience – True Story

Caught spying on his best friend’s mother while only in her bra and panties, a young man agrees to settle the matter privately. Believing the punishment would only amount to a load of chores, he had no idea what he was in for. 

This is the true story of my first real spanking as it happened in the mid-1980s.

I was fifteen years old and would spend the majority of the school week living at my best friend’s house. Paul, lived closer to the high school than I did and it made sense especially when the weather was bad that I stayed there. His father travelled with his work and most of the time it would be my friend, his mother, Milly, and myself. I had known her for years and she was like a second mum to me. I knew she could be fierce when she had to be, as Paul and I had been on the receiving end of some mighty tellings off, but generally, she appeared to be mild-mannered.

She announced one Thursday after we got home from school that she was off out with her girlfriends for dinner and that we could get a takeaway of our choice. Paul had a newspaper round every evening, I would usually go with him and help out. This night I didn’t as I had a shedload of homework to get through. I sat at the dining room table and made a start, after about forty minutes I needed and couldn’t find my calculator. There would be one in the bedroom upstairs in my Paul’s bag. I went up the stairs passed by his mum’s bedroom, the door was ajar and I could see through the gap where the hinges were and there was Milly standing in her bra and panties pulling on a stocking. She was an attractive woman and it would be wrong to say I hadn’t had teenage thoughts about her.  I was rooted to the spot and couldn’t stop staring. Once she had the stockings she walked to the mirror and stood adjusting the suspenders. I must have moved slightly and she’d detected the movement in the reflection, she paused then continued to adjust her lingerie. She then let out an angry yell. I hurried to the bedroom and frantically looked for the calculator where she strode in wearing a robe over her underwear.

“What the hell do you think you were doing? How long have you been there?” she roared at me.

“Nothing,” I replied hoping to get away with this.

“You were watching me get ready, I don’t know how long you were there, but too long in my books,” she said, her face like I’d never seen it before. I started to reply but was cut short and for the next couple of minutes there was a tirade of anger rushing my way. We heard the front door open announcing Paul’s return. I thought I’m off the hook here but couldn’t have been more wrong, “We will deal with this later, I am furious,” as she walked back out of the bedroom.

Back downstairs I continued with my homework, my friend started his and we discussed the merits of each takeaway. Milly came downstairs all ready to go out as if nothing had happened, her mood was exactly as it always was. She left us money and off she went.

It was into the next week before it was mentioned again. I honestly thought I had gotten away with it. She collared me on the Tuesday morning as I called in before heading to school, Paul was getting his things together.

Not Forgotten

“I haven’t forgotten about last week,” she said. The fear of dread came over me, “we need to sort this out, I am not happy with you.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

“No, not good enough,” she said, “you have two choices, one, I tell your parents who will deal with it, or two, I deal with it. You have till the end of the school day to decide.”

I could hardly concentrate at school that day, even during my favourite engineering classes. The thought of my parents dealing with it, well that would not be my first choice. I figured that whatever Milly had in mind would be infinitely better than my parents.

“Well,” she said, her mood dark again, after we got home from school and Paul was out on his newspaper round.

“I think it is best we deal with it and not involve my parents if that is okay?” I said, head down.

“Fine,” she said. “I thought you would make this choice. However, if you don’t do exactly as I require then your parents will be involved.”

“Okay, I understand,” I said looking at her wondering what I was in for. My guess was it would be a load of chores as that’s how Paul and I on occasion had been punished for the odd misdemeanour.

Punishment by Appointment

“Right, you will feign being ill at school in the morning. The school will ring your father who will, in turn, ask me to pick you up and look after you. I will be waiting at the school office to collect you at around 1130…Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied, thinking now maybe my parents would have been the better option.

Halfway through my physics lesson the next morning I stuck my hand up and said to the teacher that I felt that I was going to be sick and was rushed out of the class. I spent fifteen or so minutes pretending to be ill in the toilets. I went back to class and told the teacher that I wasn’t feeling good and he told me to go to the office and I would be able to go home. I went to the office and let the staff there know and they called my father who had said to call Milly and see if she could take me. Of course, she would. I sat outside the office waiting for her to arrive, now actually feeling sick. On cue at 11:30, she walked into the school to get me.

As we walked out of the school, she didn’t say a word to me. At the car she commanded, “Get in,” not another word was spoken as we took the short drive home. Upon arriving at her house it was simply, “In!” I entered, put my bag and jacket in the hallway, and went into the lounge. She followed and told me to stand in the middle of the room.

“So, are you prepared to accept my punishment or do we speak with your father,” she asked.

“Yes, I will accept your punishment,” I replied.

“Here are the rules: You will give me absolute obedience,” her voice stern as steel, “or it will be your father, do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said shakily.

There was a pause as she sat down on the couch.

“Good: We have around four hours until Paul gets back, that may be enough time, we shall see.”

Spanked as Never Before

“You are going to be spanked, spanked as you have never been spanked before. It is going to hurt, you will take it, you will take it all, you will not complain, or it will be your father.”

I’d never been spanked before, well not as I was imagining she would be doing. She went on to give me a long lecture on how I shouldn’t have spied on her. I must have lasted ten minutes or so. Then she told me to walk to her and lie across her knees. She put her arm across my back, shuffled a little then there was a pause and wallop. She started to hit each buttock in turn moving over my backside making sure there was an even pattern of blows. The first few didn’t really hurt and there was some protection from my clothes. I don’t know how long this went but when it stopped and she told me to stand up and put my hands on my head.

“From this point on, if you’re not over my lap then your hands will be on your head. You will not touch your bottom at all.”

I nodded in agreement. She reached forward, grabbed my belt and started to undo it. I started to say something but was immediately told to shut up, not make a sound and remember the rules. My belt was undone, she unbuttoned my trousers and slid the zip down. My trousers fell to my ankles and I could feel myself becoming slightly erect – there was a bulge forming.

“Back over my knees,” she commanded. I did as I was told then she started to move my shirt away so she could see her target properly. She landed one hit, then said, “Up.” I stood up being careful not to trip and put my hands onto my head. “You saw me in my underwear, so it’s only right that I see you in yours. Go across to the chair and strip down to your briefs. I waddled across the room to the chair and slowly removed my outer clothes thinking have I done the right thing. I folded my clothes as best I could and stood upright, hands on my head. I was fully erect at this point and so embarrassed as my briefs were stretching forward trying to contain the bulge.

She was so angry when she saw this. Another lecture followed then the command to get back over her knees. I hurried across the room and got into the position across her lap. If I could feel my bulge pressing into her leg then, surely, she must also. Nothing was said.

A Naked Strapping

“Right, we will continue.” The smacks were harder than before, still alternating across my backside and moving around, reddening it even more. The smacks came faster and faster then they stopped. I could feel her adjusting my briefs and then the spanking started again. A different pattern now, a good number on each cheek then she moved onto the other one. It was really starting to hurt now and I was wriggling around when she shouted, “Stop moving… take it.” I tried my best but my backside felt like it was on fire. She stopped and changed position, locking my legs with hers, grabbing my briefs and pulling them up to render me motionless. Most of my backside was now exposed as she started to smack again. I tried to get away from the blows but I was immobile. Once or twice she would hit my thighs, a whole new level of pain shot through my bottom. Then, she stopped. “Up,” she said letting go of the hold she had. I stood up desperately wanting to soothe my bottom but my hands went to my head. “Not so excited now I see,” she said looking at where there had once been a bulge. She reached to me and got hold of my briefs and yanked them down to my knees. I went to cover but she said, “Stop, hands on your head… nothing I haven’t seen before.” She stood up from the couch roughly grabbed the back of my neck and walked me to the corner of the lounge. “Corner time for you,” she said, “Do not move an inch, you will not touch your bottom, you will not say anything.”

She left the room and I could hear the kettle boiling as she was making a coffee. My backside was on fire, I could feel where her hands had been. She came back into the room, totally ignoring me, sat down and turned on the television. It must have been about half an hour, when she turned off the television. “Get across here,” she said. “Remove your briefs fully and turn around.” I did as I was told and I could feel her examining my backside. I could only imagine how red it was. “We still have a little room to play with,” she informed me.

“Get across the arm of the couch,” she ordered. I moved into position and got myself as comfortable as possible. “Keep your hands on your head, spread your legs a little and keep still. Now, I am going to continue with the belt. You will get 10 strokes on each cheek. If you yell or move we start again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I murmured.

The belt was laid across my backside. It felt cold. She left it there for a few seconds then there was a thwack as it landed hard on my cheek. I gasped out. “Be quiet,” she ordered. Whack as the next one hit. The one after wasn’t too bad, still stung, then, my God, the next hurt like hell. I cried out and must have jumped six inches. “We start again,” she said. I could see her out of the corner of my eye walk over to where my briefs were lying on the floor and she bent, picked them up and walked back and stuffed them into my mouth, “This will keep you quiet, whilst we finish this”.

For the next ten minutes, she applied the belt to each cheek ten times with a short pause in between each stroke. Just as the sting faded it was replaced with another. I got through this ordeal and was ordered back to the corner. “Do not move,” came the command and I could hear her pick up her cup and leave the room. Again, I was desperate to soothe my bottom, but didn’t dare. I tried moving from foot to foot to relieve the pain and burning sensations. I could hear her puttering around in the kitchen and cupboard doors opening and closing.

“Upstairs!” she ordered. I turned around and walked out of the lounge to where she was in the hall. “Upstairs and into the bathroom,” she said pointing up the staircase. There was no point in trying to hide my modesty I had been totally exposed to her. I walked past her and climbed the stairs and walked into the bathroom. She removed the briefs from my mouth and gently said, “Bend over and put your hands on the bath.” I did as I was told and then I could feel her put something cold onto my bottom. “This will help with the burning and will stop it bruising,” she said and for the next few minutes she gently massaged my bottom. “Right, your backside will be red for a couple of days. It will be painful for you to sit down but this will be a reminder. However, I am not convinced that you have learnt your lesson and to be brutally honest you haven’t been punished enough…we will continue at another time”. “Get downstairs and get dressed,” and with that she left me in the bathroom alone. I looked at my bottom in the mirror and it was bright red and sore to touch. I looked for something to cover myself but there was only a small hand towel so I walked downstairs naked to the lounge to get dressed. As I was getting my clothes on, I could hear Milly talking on the phone. “Yes it’s done,” she said laughing, “but there will be more. You were so right that this was the best course of action.”

This happened a long time ago and is still as clear as day.  The saga continued and when I have some time, will put the next chapters to paper.

How To Give A Spanking
  • This happened to me after Lorn and I peeked in his mother’s sex toy drawer at age 12 in 6th grade in 1956 or 57. The spanking was just as hard but not as long, but on bare butt with a wooden hairbrush. I’ve long been in search to duplicate that experience.

  • My wife has spanked me the same way, naked, over her knees, and sometimes over the back of our living room couch. She spanks me whenever she thinks I need it, or she is just in the mood to tan my bottom.

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