I Witnessed Others Getting Spankings
A SPANKING FOR CHRISTMAS!
I remember it was right after my sixth birthday, at a Christmas Dinner gathering at Grandma's house. I was too little to remember all the details, but I recall that it was the first time I had seen one of my boy cousins get spanked. It was not much of a spanking really, and it was not even applied to his bare. But it involved me as the unwilling victim of what my aunt considered a cruel prank.
In 1964 we had temporarily moved to Texas after our dad left us for another woman. We did not like it there because it was simply too hot a climate for our tastes. So after temporarily staying at my uncle's house, my Mom, my two younger sisters and myself moved back home to Upstate New York, where we settled down in an old farmhouse. My Grandma, Mom's mother, lived way up the road outside another small town. At Christmas we all gathered, aunts, uncles and cousins, in her big dining room for Christmas dinner and other after-dinner activities.
I remember I was dressed appropriately for a little girl of the time—a pretty party dress with a skirt that was stuck out by crinoline petticoats, and little lace panties to match my lace-edged ankle socks. My Mom liked her little girls to look like little girls.
My only problem with the dress was that when I knelt on the floor to play board games with my cousins, my fluffy petticoats rode up in back when I bent forward, thus exposing my cute little panties.
That's when my cousin Tommy saw his golden opportunity.
For Christmas he had received a toy submarine, complete with a spring-loaded torpedo launcher. He was not interested in the board game, but played with his submarine on the sidelines.
Suddenly the submarine surfaced from an imaginary sea, and there spotted its enemy target—a nice round little bottom encased in white nylon tricot panties and surrounded with little lace ruffles.
“Enemy sighted!” Tommy said to his imaginary crew.
“Load torpedo!” he commanded.
“Yes sir!”
I was too busy with the board game to pay much attention.
“Fire torpedo!”
Suddenly I felt a hard pinch on my panty-covered buttock.
“OWW!” I yelled.
“Direct hit!” Tommy laughed. He was about eight at the time.
I began to cry. It really did hurt and I was shocked and surprised.
Suddenly Aunt Barb, Tommy's mom, came over and grabbed Tommy by the arm.
“I saw the whole thing!” she yelled. “You like to shoot girls in the bottom? Well, here are a few shots for you!”
And with that she put out her skirted leg and tossed Tommy over it. A good flurry of very hard spanks descended upon his trouser-clad behind until he began to shout in pain. Then she let him up.
“Apologize to Pamela Ann!” she commanded.
I still stood there sniffling, clutching my bottom through my crinoline petticoats.
Tommy approached me with downcast eyes.
“Sorry, Pamela Ann,” he half-mumbled.
“It's okay,” I replied.
“Give me that submarine!” Aunt Barb ordered. Tommy held it out and she snatched it from his hand. “You don't get this back until New Year's," she said as she brandished the toy in front of Tommy's face. "And if you ever do this again I'll smash it into a million pieces, I swear to God!”
Aunt Barb was my Mom's big sister, and if I thought Mom ran a tight ship, I hated to think what Aunt Barb did for discipline when there was no company around!
I remember it was right after my sixth birthday, at a Christmas Dinner gathering at Grandma's house. I was too little to remember all the details, but I recall that it was the first time I had seen one of my boy cousins get spanked. It was not much of a spanking really, and it was not even applied to his bare. But it involved me as the unwilling victim of what my aunt considered a cruel prank.
In 1964 we had temporarily moved to Texas after our dad left us for another woman. We did not like it there because it was simply too hot a climate for our tastes. So after temporarily staying at my uncle's house, my Mom, my two younger sisters and myself moved back home to Upstate New York, where we settled down in an old farmhouse. My Grandma, Mom's mother, lived way up the road outside another small town. At Christmas we all gathered, aunts, uncles and cousins, in her big dining room for Christmas dinner and other after-dinner activities.
I remember I was dressed appropriately for a little girl of the time—a pretty party dress with a skirt that was stuck out by crinoline petticoats, and little lace panties to match my lace-edged ankle socks. My Mom liked her little girls to look like little girls.
[image/video - please log in to see this content]
My only problem with the dress was that when I knelt on the floor to play board games with my cousins, my fluffy petticoats rode up in back when I bent forward, thus exposing my cute little panties.
That's when my cousin Tommy saw his golden opportunity.
[image/video - please log in to see this content]
For Christmas he had received a toy submarine, complete with a spring-loaded torpedo launcher. He was not interested in the board game, but played with his submarine on the sidelines.
Suddenly the submarine surfaced from an imaginary sea, and there spotted its enemy target—a nice round little bottom encased in white nylon tricot panties and surrounded with little lace ruffles.
“Enemy sighted!” Tommy said to his imaginary crew.
“Load torpedo!” he commanded.
“Yes sir!”
I was too busy with the board game to pay much attention.
“Fire torpedo!”
Suddenly I felt a hard pinch on my panty-covered buttock.
“OWW!” I yelled.
“Direct hit!” Tommy laughed. He was about eight at the time.
I began to cry. It really did hurt and I was shocked and surprised.
Suddenly Aunt Barb, Tommy's mom, came over and grabbed Tommy by the arm.
“I saw the whole thing!” she yelled. “You like to shoot girls in the bottom? Well, here are a few shots for you!”
And with that she put out her skirted leg and tossed Tommy over it. A good flurry of very hard spanks descended upon his trouser-clad behind until he began to shout in pain. Then she let him up.
“Apologize to Pamela Ann!” she commanded.
I still stood there sniffling, clutching my bottom through my crinoline petticoats.
Tommy approached me with downcast eyes.
“Sorry, Pamela Ann,” he half-mumbled.
“It's okay,” I replied.
“Give me that submarine!” Aunt Barb ordered. Tommy held it out and she snatched it from his hand. “You don't get this back until New Year's," she said as she brandished the toy in front of Tommy's face. "And if you ever do this again I'll smash it into a million pieces, I swear to God!”
Aunt Barb was my Mom's big sister, and if I thought Mom ran a tight ship, I hated to think what Aunt Barb did for discipline when there was no company around!
