I Was Spanked As A Teen
Putting Color In Our Cheeks
My two younger sisters and I were spanked with Mom's wooden hairbrush, which really lit up our behinds! To be honest, we were not spanked very often--each girl averaged a spanking every two months or so--but to us it seemed we were always taking a trip across the maternal lap
The spanking--called "a tanning" in our house, was a special event and Mom always called in the rest of the family to watch the spanking of the condemned girl. She intended this to be a lesson for everyone--first for the girl squirming under the hairbrush, but also for the other girls who had to watch the procedure and take warning from the sight of their sister's bare behind as it turned red from the spanking.
Watching a sister's rear end change color was not a "turn-on" for us. I know I always felt sorry to see my younger sisters in such an uncompromising position. But in a way watching her hide go from pink to red to burgundy held a certain fascination in itself.
The tanning always took place in our large downstairs bathroom. Mom made the location a necessity because our spankings were always topped off by a large soapsuds enema for further shame and discomfort. Mom knew we hated enemas, and although they did not hurt as much as the spanking, the impending procedure always filled the girl with dread. We were an all-female household. Mom raised us three girls as a single parent, so there were no males around. Mom was a nurse and knew what she was doing, so although the punishment was intended to hurt, it would not do us any real harm--except for being unable to sit for anywhere between forty-eight and seventy-two hours.
The spanking was always applied to the bare bottom, while the girl was draped over Mom's stocking-tops. That's why we always referred to a spanking as "Crossing the Garters." To prepare the girl for her punishment Mom raised the victim's skirt and petticoat and clipped them to the waist of her skirt with four clothespins. With the skirts now out of the way, Mom skinned down the girl's pantyhose if she was wearing them, and then the panties, leaving the cheeks and thighs completely bare from waist to knees. Mom sat on the wide rim of our bathtub, hiked up her own dress so it would not get mussed, and revealed her girdle and gartered stockings. "Cross my garters, young lady!" came the dreaded order, and the poor girl climbed over Mom's nylons, her head pointed toward the tile floor and her bare bottom uppermost.
Mom was left-handed, and used that hand to wield the hairbrush. But this positioned the girl perfectly with her naked behind pointed toward her sisters. Now we could get a good view of the spanking, and the damage done to the target. All eyes were focused on the girl's helpless heinie.
Mom passed sentence, informing the girl how many "paddywhacks" she would receive for her crime. The average was fifty, but sometimes sixty for serious offenses. Once my sister Gretchen suffered seventy-five spanks, and I received a record-breaking one hundred! The requirement was for the girl to call out the number of each spank as it landed. Mom spanked one cheek at a time, but her custom was to apply five spanks to that cheek before moving on the opposite buttock and apply five more. This method roasted the poor girl's bottom, and although Mom did not spank too hard she did manage to put a good snap and sting into every "paddywhack" as she called the spanks.
The girl's naked white backside was now ready for tanning. Mom began with a stinging spank that made the buttock quiver. Within seconds a light pink patch appeared. Then the second spank. A little more pink. The third made the cheek a light rosy color. Four and five made an interesting decoration of a large oval that corresponded to the shape of the hairbrush. The girl now had one pink buttock and one white one. But not for long! Mom applied five more spanks to the untouched cheek until it matched its partner. The girl now had two rosy buttocks. She was calling out the count, but her voice was quavering and we knew she would not make it to the end of her sentence without breaking down into tears. None of us ever made it to twenty paddywhacks without crying.
Now the first cheek was becoming a bit darker as the hairbrush continued to rain down spanks on it. The girl finally broke down into an anguished wail as her poor heinie turned a darker shade of pink. She began to writhe her sore buttocks now, trying in vain to dodge the relentless spanks. By spank number twenty her seat had turned a darker shade of red and looked pretty hot from where we stood watching. Of course we knew how it felt!
By thirty her hind end was an angry red, and the hairbrush was whacking the spots that appeared to be most sore. By now the miserable girl was loudly imploring for mercy between counting the spanks, but her sentence was never commuted. She would receive her entire sentence, and maybe some extras on the meaty parts of her thighs if she did not behave or fail to count the spanks.
Forty spanks really deepened the color of her spanked skin, and we could see the two cheeks puffing up. By the end of the tanning her buttocks were a deep shade of red and slightly swollen. The girl breathed a sigh of relief after calling out her final spank. Then she was required to say, "Thank you for tanning my heinie!" in as sincere a tone as she could muster.
After her enema and toilet time--which really hurt because the girl could not sit down comfortably but was required to "plant her heinie" firmly on the seat--it was off to the living room corner, to stand on full display with skirts up and panties down, for one hour. During that time we could see her heinie just simmering and cooking, becoming more puffed as she stood there helplessly, forbidden to rub or soothe the spank spot in any way. Finally the kitchen timer bell rang, the girl's skirts were unclipped, and she was sent upstairs to bed.
We always checked our hind ends in our bedroom mirror. They were always a deep red and blotched with a cluster of burgundy freckles. Since the spanked girl could not possibly sit down, she had to eat all her meals standing at the kitchen counter, mindful of the amused stares of her sisters and her Mom.
Showing some mercy, Mom always came upstairs in about an hour after the girl was sent up to bed, and gently applied cold cream to the spank spot to cool it down a bit. But still the results of the spanking could be felt for a long time. Mom always said, "If a girl can still sit, she has not been spanked!"
And Mom always saw to it that we were well and truly spanked!
My two younger sisters and I were spanked with Mom's wooden hairbrush, which really lit up our behinds! To be honest, we were not spanked very often--each girl averaged a spanking every two months or so--but to us it seemed we were always taking a trip across the maternal lap
The spanking--called "a tanning" in our house, was a special event and Mom always called in the rest of the family to watch the spanking of the condemned girl. She intended this to be a lesson for everyone--first for the girl squirming under the hairbrush, but also for the other girls who had to watch the procedure and take warning from the sight of their sister's bare behind as it turned red from the spanking.
Watching a sister's rear end change color was not a "turn-on" for us. I know I always felt sorry to see my younger sisters in such an uncompromising position. But in a way watching her hide go from pink to red to burgundy held a certain fascination in itself.
The tanning always took place in our large downstairs bathroom. Mom made the location a necessity because our spankings were always topped off by a large soapsuds enema for further shame and discomfort. Mom knew we hated enemas, and although they did not hurt as much as the spanking, the impending procedure always filled the girl with dread. We were an all-female household. Mom raised us three girls as a single parent, so there were no males around. Mom was a nurse and knew what she was doing, so although the punishment was intended to hurt, it would not do us any real harm--except for being unable to sit for anywhere between forty-eight and seventy-two hours.
The spanking was always applied to the bare bottom, while the girl was draped over Mom's stocking-tops. That's why we always referred to a spanking as "Crossing the Garters." To prepare the girl for her punishment Mom raised the victim's skirt and petticoat and clipped them to the waist of her skirt with four clothespins. With the skirts now out of the way, Mom skinned down the girl's pantyhose if she was wearing them, and then the panties, leaving the cheeks and thighs completely bare from waist to knees. Mom sat on the wide rim of our bathtub, hiked up her own dress so it would not get mussed, and revealed her girdle and gartered stockings. "Cross my garters, young lady!" came the dreaded order, and the poor girl climbed over Mom's nylons, her head pointed toward the tile floor and her bare bottom uppermost.
Mom was left-handed, and used that hand to wield the hairbrush. But this positioned the girl perfectly with her naked behind pointed toward her sisters. Now we could get a good view of the spanking, and the damage done to the target. All eyes were focused on the girl's helpless heinie.
Mom passed sentence, informing the girl how many "paddywhacks" she would receive for her crime. The average was fifty, but sometimes sixty for serious offenses. Once my sister Gretchen suffered seventy-five spanks, and I received a record-breaking one hundred! The requirement was for the girl to call out the number of each spank as it landed. Mom spanked one cheek at a time, but her custom was to apply five spanks to that cheek before moving on the opposite buttock and apply five more. This method roasted the poor girl's bottom, and although Mom did not spank too hard she did manage to put a good snap and sting into every "paddywhack" as she called the spanks.
The girl's naked white backside was now ready for tanning. Mom began with a stinging spank that made the buttock quiver. Within seconds a light pink patch appeared. Then the second spank. A little more pink. The third made the cheek a light rosy color. Four and five made an interesting decoration of a large oval that corresponded to the shape of the hairbrush. The girl now had one pink buttock and one white one. But not for long! Mom applied five more spanks to the untouched cheek until it matched its partner. The girl now had two rosy buttocks. She was calling out the count, but her voice was quavering and we knew she would not make it to the end of her sentence without breaking down into tears. None of us ever made it to twenty paddywhacks without crying.
Now the first cheek was becoming a bit darker as the hairbrush continued to rain down spanks on it. The girl finally broke down into an anguished wail as her poor heinie turned a darker shade of pink. She began to writhe her sore buttocks now, trying in vain to dodge the relentless spanks. By spank number twenty her seat had turned a darker shade of red and looked pretty hot from where we stood watching. Of course we knew how it felt!
By thirty her hind end was an angry red, and the hairbrush was whacking the spots that appeared to be most sore. By now the miserable girl was loudly imploring for mercy between counting the spanks, but her sentence was never commuted. She would receive her entire sentence, and maybe some extras on the meaty parts of her thighs if she did not behave or fail to count the spanks.
Forty spanks really deepened the color of her spanked skin, and we could see the two cheeks puffing up. By the end of the tanning her buttocks were a deep shade of red and slightly swollen. The girl breathed a sigh of relief after calling out her final spank. Then she was required to say, "Thank you for tanning my heinie!" in as sincere a tone as she could muster.
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After her enema and toilet time--which really hurt because the girl could not sit down comfortably but was required to "plant her heinie" firmly on the seat--it was off to the living room corner, to stand on full display with skirts up and panties down, for one hour. During that time we could see her heinie just simmering and cooking, becoming more puffed as she stood there helplessly, forbidden to rub or soothe the spank spot in any way. Finally the kitchen timer bell rang, the girl's skirts were unclipped, and she was sent upstairs to bed.
We always checked our hind ends in our bedroom mirror. They were always a deep red and blotched with a cluster of burgundy freckles. Since the spanked girl could not possibly sit down, she had to eat all her meals standing at the kitchen counter, mindful of the amused stares of her sisters and her Mom.
Showing some mercy, Mom always came upstairs in about an hour after the girl was sent up to bed, and gently applied cold cream to the spank spot to cool it down a bit. But still the results of the spanking could be felt for a long time. Mom always said, "If a girl can still sit, she has not been spanked!"
And Mom always saw to it that we were well and truly spanked!
