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>Unlike most of my spanking memories, I remember this >one very clearly. > >My mom was a talker. One of those folks who wanted to >be friends with everyone and would talk to anyone >about anything. Instead of saying “to make a long >story short” she would say “to make a long story >even longer…” Once or twice a week she would call >me into my parents bedroom in the evenings after >dinner to talk about whatever was on her mind. It was >usually, but not always, a one way conversation and I >was just there to be a sounding board. > >On this particular evening, I was 13 and was called >into my parents’ bedroom for a discussion. My dad >was down the hall in the living room watching TV. I >laid on the bed, wearing just a t-shirt and black >boxer briefs, while she rambled on about something or >other. At one point I got very frustrated with how >long the process was taking and sighed >“fuuuuuckkkk”. > >Cussing was very much against the rules when I was >growing up, and was considered something worthy of a >spanking. Since I was already laying on the bed, I was >not taken over her knee but instead had to turn over >so I was face down. I was then instructed to take down >my boxers, so I reached back and pulled them down so >they were just below my cheeks. I was feeling rather >gutsy that night, so even though I complied with her >instructions, I was determined not to cry or make any >sort of reaction the spanking. > >I don’t know if it was the fact that I was lying >face down or if I was clenching my cheeks, but the >sting really started to get to me. She was hitting my >left cheek multiple times in a row and I felt tears >start to well up in my eyes. I didn’t even really >think about it, but I just jumped up, pulled up my >boxers and ran into the living room. > >I don’t know why I stopped in the living room >instead of going all the way to my room- I guess >something in my brain told me I had just made a big >mistake. Mom came running after me with “get back >here!” She explained to me dad that I was getting a >spanking and I had run off before she was finished. My >dad got up and grabbed hold of me and bent me over the >arm of the couch. He didn’t grab me forcibly and he >more guided me to bend over than put me there by >force. There was an unspoken feeling of “don’t >make this harder than it needs to be.” Mom came >over, removed my boxers again, and gave me two hard >smacks on the bottom. > >After that I was allowed to stand up and go on my way. >The next morning mom told me she had half a mind to >spank me again for running away, but thankfully she >did not follow through with it.

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