The 1950s Spanking Chronicles: True Spanking Stories from the Fifties, Volume 1: True Accounts from the Nineteen-Fifties, the Golden Age of Spanking:

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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.” Given her lengthy attitude, it was a just punishment. Ache would deepen, disciplining her for several days.

Smoothing her dress over her stinging bottom, she followed him downstairs, determined to be the gracious hostess he expected. He caressed her cheek and kissed her lips. She responded, grateful for his tenderness, and hot as hell. "I'm sorry," she murmured, tremors of guilt throbbing through her core.

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Almost a minute passed, but it felt longer. Karen looked at her beautiful Mummy, the rounded body looked so cosy and even at this moment strangely comforting, her Mummy bear almost. She saw her Mummy looking at her bush, her hips, she could almost read the thoughts in her head…”My my, my little girl is a girl no more.” After a while, Kate called to the three of us: “OK, kids, time to head home let’s go!” Denise and I ran over to her promptly, but Kristie was having too much fun on the monkey bars and was not ready to leave. Her Mom told her a second time that it was time to go. Kristie replied in a sassy tone: “No, Mommy! I’m staying here!” Oh shit! Why today, why does she need a hug? Today of all days when I have let her down.” Thought Karen. However, now and again, I publish a slither of my most entertaining encounters for public consumption. When Denise’s spanking was over and she returned to the spot where she had been standing, Kate looked at me and said: “Your turn, young man.” I was standing about 10ft away, but the walk to that bench felt like one of those dreams in which you are walking toward a destination but never get any closer to it. My head was spinning – I felt scared, embarrassed, and exhilarated, all at the same time.

Your forgiven." He placed the paddle on the dining table, removing his suit and underwear. His rigid manhood pointed hard at her. "Get naked, naughty girl. I'm going to cool your paddled bare butt." You were magnificent tonight," he said. "But I must paddle you. You filled my mental space with unnecessary angst while I prepared for this dinner." Unpredictable results are not comfortable. I had to assert my authority, strapping you thirty minutes before our guests arrived, risking your anger." The journey to the end of the day was like some heroic trek in a fantasy novel. Long and arduous. The lunch time collection of the ‘death sentence’ sent a cold shiver to her tummy. The words left the slip and ran amok in her brain. There before her the words threatened her bottom. She had friends there, she had respect, she even had a few who envied her. Also, quite possibly, a few ladies, especially the young mothers, were in awe of her, even, more than a little scared of her.

She pressed her bare feet onto the floor to keep still. She needed her hurt to atone. The paddle punched blazing pain, meeting honest repentance. She panted, determined to respect her punishment. He broke away. "I didn't need your attitude today. I'm relying on you tonight and expect perfection. Regardless of your performance, I'm will paddle you before bed." As she climbed the stairs thoughts of her own upbringing and the spankings she had received raced through her mind, what part of her naughty bottom had taught her the most? What words had her Mummy used to send the message home? What advice from her mentors, the W.I. and the Vicar helped her do what was needed? The memories spoke to her…”Spare the rod, spoil the child.”“It is for her own good.”“She will thank you one day.” Karen liked the strange feeling she felt (in a certain in a certain intimate area) at being exposed. Two more to go. I’ll lay these on a bit, honey, OK?” What? Lay them on! What the hell were the other six? Fun pats?

Like many boys, I loved cars. Val’s husband had a classic Mustang and had promised me a ride in it when we got over there. I was very excited about this. Chastened, his painful words thrilled her sex. "Thank you for your compliment. Tonight was easy once you'd strapped me. I'm sorry I failed you earlier. I deserve the paddle and promise to take it with dignity and grace." 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.

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She shoved her blue and white striped cotton panties to join her jeans, comfortable under his command. Her irrationality had made it difficult for him to trust she'd accept her discipline. His cruel dice game had taught her an effective lesson. Five or six, you keep your jeans," he said, "three or four, you keep your panties, one or two, I paddle you bare. This roll counts towards your total swats." Karen remembers the day her adventure at Grammer School began. It was the day she received the letter telling her that she had passed the 11+ exam with flying colours. I collected my magazine and sat (carefully) in the lounge with Val until my own mum joined us again. Val looked over and smiled at me once or twice, probably knowing my bum was stinging pretty good. I’m sure she had a lot of spanking experience, probably when her kids were a bit younger. Most women paddling a boy for the first time would have gone much easier to start with, but Val had the measure just right. Well, maybe she could have gone a little easier – I still had a mark on my behind three days later when we flew home. Clare smiled. "A silly professional mistake. He was kind and corrected my error. I cooked him dinner as thanks. My stir-fry is legendary, it seems."