Bare Bottom Spankings: Big Bottoms Are Best

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The spit in her mouth had gone, her knees went weak as she saw Mummy swell before her taking a deep breath. Her eyebrow lifted and vanished beneath her fringe. She sat down, and opened the envelope.

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One Friday afternoon, when I got home, I discovered I was alone. There was a note from mom saying she would be ‘quite late’ and so would Judith. my sister. I decided to go to the shed and play. I dressed and proceeded to do the things I would do, and was really lost in my own world when I heard a noise behind me – it was Judith. Mum and Mrs Smyth talked for a while in low tones so we couldn’t hear. Mum then told us to both come over, which we did and she asked us what was going on! She appeared entirely too calm. We both started to speak at once, saying we weren’t doing anything dirty, and tried to explain about the promise I had made – knowing we were making things worse but not knowing how to fix it! Karen took the note, her hand shaking slightly. She could feel the cheeks on her face flush. “No Mummy I do not have any homework tonight.”

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Soon her bottom was a lovely red, spreading down to her upper thigh. Mummy remembered the sit spot and how it stung, so delivered ten right across the point where her voluptuous cheeks joined her thighs. How they bounced, sinking in, then springing up instantly, and how she wriggled trying to pull free of the pain. But Mummy held her firmly, a tight grip around her waist holding the hand that tried to protect her. This annoyed Mummy, she was in mid flow! 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? I held out my hand, albeit with a dollop of attitude, but Aunt Pam said: ““You silly boy! I’m not going to cane your hands – there’s far too much risk of injury, especially as you play the piano. There’s only one place God has decreed that naughty boys should be punished, and that’s on the bottom.”

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I was trying my best to shrink into the carpet, wishing my clothing was a bit more masculine in appearance, and trying to pull up my very non-masculine panties at the same time! Mummy was a perfect product of the 1950’s. A dutiful housewife who had kept an excellent house since the day she married. Sadly her husband was no longer around, but stoically, with a stiff upper lip and a gallon of fortitude, she had carried on running the house, her home, with pride. The promised storm arrived on one fateful Spring day. Confidence had grown into over confidence. Self confidence into haughtiness. Pubic hairs had covered her soft pubescent bone, fingers had delved, conversations with friends on the delight of a fingered pussy had taken place. It was one such conversation that made her not even notice her form teacher walk into the classroom. She carried on talking to Barbara, instead of standing up with the rest, to say in a slightly singing way, “Good Morning Miss Weltwell.” Then I heard her trot out this little ditty. “Spank a boy and do it right, trousers down, pants up tight. And if he smiles when he should frown, then spank him with his pants right down.” With that, Aunt Pam pulled my jeans down, exposing my underpants. My face was now near to the floor and I remember clearly the smell of the carpet, mixed with tobacco smoke as Doreen lit up a cigarette.Once again, the room was full of the combined noises of a little bottom being spanked and a little girl crying hard. I was in floods of tears before I was allowed to throw myself face down on my own bed. After mum listened to us carry on for a while, she observed: “Well, we’re getting nowhere with this. Mrs Smyth, would you care to take a hand in the handing out of discipline?” Mrs Smyth agreed, and it was decided that she would use her hand on me (maybe they felt sorry for me) and mum would use the strap on Judith. Karen felt aroused slightly, which made her feel even more of a naughty girl. But stood before Mummy as she scolded her was such a mixture of feelings. Her pubic hair had grown, it was now a delightful mixture of light fair hair with a hint of ginger, like her hair. The mirror of the dressing table was behind her, so Mummy could see her bottom, a bottom she was so proud of, like her new breasts, pert, and pleasingly plump. So I proceeded, for the next few years, to purloin my sister’s panties and those of my friends’ sisters whenever I could. I also progressed from wearing just the panties to ‘dressing up’ whenever I had the chance. I got rather bold, since I appeared to be getting away with it!