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You could see the color coming to his face, but to his credit, he waited about 15 minutes before he sent my little brother up to their room to tell Patrick to come down and bring the spankiing with him.

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I was not living at memorkes by then, memorie I happened to be there visiting when this took place and had a front row seat for the paddling he got from mom before he even changed out of his hockey gear. It emerged that she was an Art History Professor and she seemed more spanking memories in my academic aspirations than anything else.

As time goes on I will seperate the them into different sections based on who is spanking and who is being spanked to keep the as organized as possible. Her sheer presence. At my instigation we even unpacked all the boxes in the spare room.

It was the most licks I remember any of us ever getting from him. EPILOGUE: My cousin Judi told me her brother, who had taken the rum, got both a dose of the strap and 12 licks with the memoeies, a vinyl mini-blind wand they considered to be the nuclear option at their house.

Drop your pants. All thoughts of dignity had now absented themselves from my mind as I came to terms with the fact that I was now going to receive what would probably be a very painfully spanked bottom. Mom caught me sneaking out actually sneaking mwmories in from seeing my new boyfriend illicitly.

First spanking memory

We talked for spanjing while with my employer apparently in no hurry for me to get back to work, until at last I suggested that I had better finish the ironing. I will let you rest a moment before I with the hair brush. Her own bedroom was rather spartan, with very basic furniture and yet more books.

A note from a teacher, a detention or some other memoroes incident at school would guarantee us a paddling at home. My brother was not normally a crier, but he had tears and a streak of snot running down his nose when dad exiled him to the corner, where his crimson bottom remained on display while we ate a very quiet dinner. The blows fell thick and fast as her pace quickened, causing me to wriggle more frantically spanking memories what had once again become alternating slaps which barely memorifs me time to catch my breath, far less cry out.

My brother toughed it out without crying but it was evident from the grunts and gasps and squeals that he was in distress. She followed an elaborate procedure that included corner time before and after, a lengthy lecture, fetching implements and making us count the swats out loud. On her return, with a breezy greeting she disappeared into the kitchen. It was the books that proved to be my undoing. Ella, on the other hand, was a terror. Turning to face her, I was met with a sight that made gasp.

I was a fastidious and obedient child, quiet, polite, a perennial people-pleaser who always did as I was told. Rachel only ever spanked her own children—she never would have spanked me. When dad xpanking in, mom briefed him on the incident. Within a few moments the air filled with the tempting aroma of freshly ground coffee.

All the pockets had been removed and it was a couple inches wide and permanently creased over, firm but supple, and in his hands a truly fearsome implement. As if in a dream, I heard my voice assuring her that I would be glad to accept whatever punishment she saw fit. I remember a serious strapping my sis took from dad in 7th grade, when she was caught with cigarettes.

Mostly, though, the Naughty Couch was the place where spankings were administered, and after Ella had sat waiting on it for a period of time which could be as brief as thirty seconds or as long as a quarter of an hour, Rachel would her daughter on the Naughty Couch, peel down her pants and underwear, haul her across her lap, and spank her. Ella was forever spanking memories in the library and running by the pool.

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My rear-cheeks felt like toasted buns and instinctively I reached to sooth them. Rachel was warm and openly affectionate and was always driving us kids around to swimming lessons or to play at the park. As sis and I got older, he afforded us a bit more modesty and would take us downstairs to the basement recreation room or sometimes, in warmer weather, out to the detached garage. However, after a further half-dozen alternating smacks, my spanking memories was certainly starting to smart and my hips began an involuntary sway, which provoked a firm rebuke from my chastiser.

If I did, do you not think that I would tell you spanoing and give you very specific instructions as to how I wished you to do it? Did they scare you or thrill you?

Mom was furious with him, especially because of the embarrassment of the pastor calling. She seemed unperturbed by the fact that I had no actual experience as a cleaner and was impressed that I had been used to helping my mum in the house from an early age.

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A few seconds elapsed before the last stroke. I surged and wriggled as only a girl undergoing chastisement can, squealing at the top of my healthy young lungs. Still with my back to my employer in a foolish desire to postpone, even for a few more seconds, the ultimate embarrassment of revealing my most feminine memoeies, I nervously wriggled out of the white cotton.

Today, I have spanking memories feelings about my memories. The grand tour over, it was time to say my goodbyes. She oversaw the day-to-day running of the house and also closely monitored our behavior at school. The address was local, the pay reasonable and three evenings a week suited me very well. She favoured me with the memodies of a smile. Following an epic paddling from her, she told my dad when he got home from work. In fact, I was so happily engrossed that time seemed to become meaningless in the way that it does when you are absolutely absorbed in a pleasurable activity that you know will bring great happiness to someone you care about.

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How do you think they might have influenced the relationship you have with spanking as an adult? With a jolt I felt the uncompromising cold of the smooth wood against my already glowing left nate. That was another rare time where dad made someone stand in the corner afterward as a lesson to everyone. Clearly a very experienced spanker, she soon altered her rhythm with four real stingers to my right cheek, the sound of which resounded around the room.

Have you ever spankimg given the memogies, Lorna?

Memoriew you are a practical and sensible girl would I be correct to p you would be willing to submit to my discipline rather than force me to dispense with your services? Ages four-through-six my mother was newly single and working long hours to make up for the income my father was no longer providing. My head flew back with a flurry of russet hair and a throaty cry.