And so to my much anticipated 13th birthday – it was a stand-out day. As previously mentioned, I am still quite young (early 20s) and Mum is still a relatively young woman, having only just recently turned 50. It was finally quiet as we drove for that way for about a minute and my wife said "A good ** beating." It sounded like she was thinking out loud but no one said anything, I felt my face flush.

Mummy sat on the bed, and slid the slipper deftly under the pillow. Then turned a nervous, worried Karen to face her. “I told you quite plainly Karen, that if you were naughty at school, you would be punished at home.” As she did this she tugged the pyjama bottoms down, to land in a puddle at her daughters ankles. The pain did not leave, it was still growing. Even in the dark of night she could feel the heat on her hand. And lying on her tummy, stroking her poor bottom, she fell asleep. In the end, my birthday spanking lasted just shy of 13 minutes although, as before, there were several breaks for conversation. However, Mum had a bigger surprise for me.Then in the mid 70's, a column in the News carried a series of letters about domineering mothers and ways of dealing with them. (The column in question, "Dear Jane Lee," was a treasure trove from our point of view.) One woman wrote in that the only effective response is to run, as she had, and she said, almost as an afterthought, that her mother had spanked her up to the age of 30. Two more women wrote in about how they, too, had been spanked into their 30's by their mothers, and how they had dealt with it. The reason I don't dismiss those letters is that they were about strategies for getting out, which is not exactly what fetishists write about. You look fantastic," he said, hoping to imbibe her with spirit as he watched her full effect arrive in their spacious living area. In March, 1947, Nancy Pearce wrote to Ursula Trow, Editor of the Teen Temptest" column of American Weekly the following..."I am a so called bobby-soxer of 15 years, and I have a very old fashioned mother. I came home rather late from a dance the other night. She made me lie across her lap and then she spanked me very hard with a hairbrush". With a bitter grimace, she twisted her wrist, casting her fate. The final die slowed, bumped its partner, settling on four.

Karen was on her tummy. She was sniffing now, not crying, and trying to understand the lovely feeling she has in her most intimate area, as she gently pushes up and down on the bed, her bright red bobbing up and down, which she can see, in the mirror, if she looks over. Which of course she does… Murmurs and a few stifled giggles ran around the room. Every girl knew what that meant. So too did the teachers.Mildred went to Ivy’s, where she met Betty and Mary. Like the fire in the plump bottom of our naughty girl, news of the good irls downfall began to spread. The door handle slipped in her sweaty palm, the door made a noise far too loud. Mummy sounded so joyous as she shouted, “Hello dear, had a good day? Come and give Mummy a hug, I need one today.”

He frowned. Her attitude had been a growing problem since they'd woken. Mr. and Mrs. Davenport had founded their trusted software business twenty years ago, developing an extensive client base. Relationships mattered to them. Decades younger, he needed to convey a loving, homely impression to win their hearts and acquire their company. After messing up and acting stupidly or procrastinating too much etc. we were having a serious discussion almost verging on an argument. My wife said I was acting very immaturely and irresponsibly adding "Maybe a spanking for real will get your attention." One thing lead to another and she was moving forward with her idea. I got a real spanking that hurt enough to have me apologize sincerely and begin doing immediately what I'd promised her for months. Mummy noticed, and the other W.I.Women noticed. Not only noticed, but mentioned it, in a subtle way. “Your Karen is making a fine young lady, she’ll certainly turns some heads one day!” My birthday fell on a Monday that year, but during the school summer holidays. The day before, my parents had arranged a surprise trip to a theme park. Part of the surprise was that Tom and his parents came along – it was a brilliant day out.As I explained in my previous attempt, as long as it was a bit of fun between us, I encouraged Mum any chance I could to turn me over her knee – I loved it. I pushed the boundaries with being cheeky – Mum threatened accordingly. It was fun – in fact, between the ages of 12 and 15 were my happiest childhood years. The period coincided with several fun spankings, and I felt this period also cemented an extra closeness in our relationship. Standing, she rubbed her burning bare butt to ease its fiery sting. "God, I'm sorry. I've never been more sorry in all my life," she groaned. Pressing her sex against his obvious erection, she hugged him and said, "Thank you for paddling me. I deserved tough love." In July, 1895 the letter's to the Editor in the New York Evening World moved away from the pro's and con's of spanking older girls to the spanking of wives by there husbands and mother-in-laws. I have read of poor "Rebellious" and think it is awful that she should have to submit to such indignities, not only from her husband but from her mother-in-law. I do not designate her as mother-in-law, because she cannot be one to her and spank her. "Mother" is a word too sacred to be used for one who would spank her daughter-in- law so unmercifully as the reading of her letter would portray. Poor "Rebellious", it is sad to think she has such a hard lot. I would practice on my husband a little of his own medicine and if he refused to let me, I would refuse to kneel and be spanked the next time he wished. And I would refuse with such a determined tone that he would not do it, or his mother either. It is disrgraceful to have such conduct going on in a domestic household. The idea, a woman kneeling on the floor to be spanked. I suppose she used a slipper or hairbrush to make it all the more degrading. How painful it must have been!

The leaving of school behind her and the journey home was sullen. The man in the bowler hat frowned at her as if he knew. The walk from the bus stop to her lovely cottage was heavy and slow. Two of Mummy’s friends saw her and nudged each other. Was that a snigger? Karen got out and some involuntary action told her to stand to attention. Anything good right now, might stop the severity of what was to come. This one was published in the Detroit Free Press in July of 1971, in an advice column by a Dr. Loriene Chase: She released me from her embrace and added: “That’ll make sure you remember your 13th birthday, won’t it?”And yes, I remember it as clearly as the day it happened. When the Asst Head Mistress came in the boys stepped out of their trousers and bent across a room length table. The girls lifted their skirts and did the same. She walked down the row reading each infraction. She decided if you were to be spanked over your underwear or bare. If bare she had you stand and step out of the underwear and bend over again. We stayed that way not looking until the headmistress entered.Her mummy, was at the very least, delighted! “Ohhh you clever girl Karen, you have made your Mummy so very proud. This Saturday, we are off to town you and I, we will go to Rushet’s Cafe on the High Street, and I’ll take you to your favourite bakers and get you a lovely cream cake to have after Sunday tea! Then my dear, we will go looking at uniforms and satchels. You are going to look lovely, you deserve the best….well done!” From the very first visit to the Girl’s Grammer School, it was made clear that corporal punishment was used. After a tour of the school looking at laboratories, home economic rooms and such like, the new girls were sat, with their Mums. At the end of the ‘Inroductory Speech’ by the Headmistress. It was made perfectly clear that corporal punishment was used to keep any naughty girl in line, and that parents had to sign a consent form to say that they agreed with the school’s Disciplinary Code of Conduct. This caused a mumbling stir in the Assembly Hall and the loins of many girls, as Mummy’s turned to whisper to their child. Facing their long dining table, she rubbed one die between her fingers. 'Five' would provide protection against the blistering oak, although five thunderous swats would be furious punishment. Maybe one vicious swat on her bare skin fitted her crime. All the words looked so official, having been typed by the school secretary. And signed by her teacher in ‘Quink’ blue, fountain pen ink.