Me And My Big Mouth!

...or how I was able to turn 'just a spanking' into World War III

I was driving in to work this morning and thinking of a time when I was 16 and had gone to the Mall to do some shopping. It was a Saturday in April around 10:00 a.m. and I told Mom I was going to the Mall to look for some clothes. Mom said "That's fine dear, but I want you home by noon. There's a lot that needs to be done around here and I need your help." I said OK and went off on my merry way. Well, I don't think it will come as any surprise to you that noon came and went without me returning home, nor if you've read any of my posts do I think it will poleaxe you to find that the penalty for my tardiness was...to be spanked.

So...I get home and at this point it's only like 12:25. I walk in the door and set my bags down in the hall and Mom walks in and says. "Hello Jennifer. You were to be home at noon, do you know what time it is?" I say "Just a bit past that." Mom says "I wouldn't call being 25 minutes late 'just a bit past that' would you?" "Uhhhh...yeah...in fact I just DID. What's the big deal?" "Oh...so you come home late and now you want to get smart with me?" "Not really, I just don't know why you're having such a cow over my being a few minutes late!" "Twenty-five minutes is not 'a few'. Twenty-five minutes is essentially a half an hour. What do we do when you break curfew?" "Curfew?! What do you mean curfew? I was out shopping for Christ's sake!" With this Mom turns and walks to the kitchen. I slip off to the living room knowing I've probably pushed things too far, but am pissed off for being treated like a retard. A few seconds later Mom walks in carrying her monster rubber spatula saying "Don't you go running away from me...we're going to deal with that attitude of yours Missy...pull down your pants." "No Mom...I'm not going to. I was a few minutes late...big deal. All you ever do is spank. You love to spank us...you're the meanest mom on the planet. Is that all you know how to do is spank? God! You're acting like I killed somebody instead of came home a couple minutes late...what the hell is your problem?" Mom grabs my arm and starts pulling me toward the kitchen saying "That is quite enough out of you. I am NOT going to allow you to speak to me like that you disrespectful little brat! Now you're getting that sassy mouth of yours washed out. Get your butt in the kitchen!"

As I am being shepherded into the kitchen and told this Mom is smacking my thighs and butt with the spatula...I am wearing blue jeans but even through them it stings like fire. She shoves me to the sink and thus begins the whole mouth soaping struggle that plays out as it always does. Me refusing to open my mouth...Mom pulling my hair and grabbing my chin...Mom eventually winning and raking the bar across my teeth...Mom yelling at me to do what I'm told when I'm told, peppering me with smacks from the spatula as I am sputtering and trying to rinse the hideous soap out of my mouth. All too soon she shuts off the water and says "Get your fanny upstairs...I'm going to spank the sass out of you once and for all..." Mom propels me to and up the stairs with several solid smacks from the spatula, railing about what my smart mouth is going to get me...how she's going to teach me the meaning of respect....what a sorry young lady I'm going to be...

We get to the top of the stairs and I am expecting to be hauled into my bedroom, but instead Mom takes me to hers. She throws the spatula on the bed and goes and gets the hairbrush off her dresser. Seeing her do this I say "No Mom....OK....I'm sorry...I'll be good...I'll do anything you say...please don't do this..." "You're darn right you will....you can start by getting those pants down NOW!" Now, I'm an idiot, but smart enough to know that there's a time and place to follow orders promptly and I realize that this is definitely one of those times. I do as I'm told but pleading as I do so "Please Mom....I'm sorry....I know I screwed up....one more chance....please....one more chance." "Panties too...and be quick about it" is Mom's reply. Mom sits on her bed as I grudgingly lower my panties. "Get across my lap." I groan and say..."OK...Please Mom, not too hard....please...not too hard...I promise I'll behave...I promise..."

Stupid me thinks Mom has decided to switch to the hairbrush but she picks up the hideous rubber spatula and says "THIS is for coming home a half hour later than you were supposed to!" (again I'm just smart enough to know it's best not to point out that it was actually twenty-five minutes) Mom slams the spatula down on my right butt cheek and it feels like a steam burn. This is by no means the first time I've had the spatula used on my bare butt and I know it hurts like hell, but somehow I forget just how badly it hurts and each time it's used on me is like the first time and I go mad from that first smack with the ungodly sting of it and the sickening realization that it's going to get worse....a lot worse....before it's over. All this occurs in the nano second before the second smack hits my left cheek and then Mom gets into an alternating rhythm going cheek to cheek...up and down...side to side paying special attention to the lower portion of my butt cheeks slamming into them and I feel my bottom wobble like a wave each time it strikes. I am screaming and begging and crying...pretty much unintelligible, but "Noooooooooooooo!" is the main utterance oft repeated and interspersed with keening wails and squeals. Mom smacked and scolded me for perhaps two minutes maximum with the spatula but in my mind it seemed closer to ten. She finally stopped and it was several seconds before it registered in my walnut sized brain that she in fact had. Tears are pouring out my eyes and snot's running out my nose and I am gasping for breath between sobs. Somewhere in the back of my conscience I hear Mom telling me how if I hadn't been a back talking smart mouth that my punishment would be over, but no...we had to address that issue now as well.

Mom switches from spatula to hairbrush and I lose it...I start squirming and trying to cover my butt saying "no...no....no...oh...no...no more...Please...PLEASE!!!!!!!" Mom says "Knock off that squirming...I am sick and tired of your backtalk...I am through with that sassy attitude of yours Missy! You want to get smart with me? You want to be disrespectful? Well THIS is what happens to smart mouthed, disrespectful girls who think they can sass their mothers! Go on...keep it up....I'll be glad to spank you each and every time you get the notion of doing so. Do you have any other sassy comments for me young lady? Well, do you? Go ahead Jennifer...get it out there. I can keep this up all afternoon if you'd like...." All through this litany the brush rises and falls...rises and falls with Mom mainly focusing on spanking my sit spots and upper thighs. So that was her end of the conversation. As for me, I am lying there kicking and screaming and blubbering pretty much incapable of speech other than the occasional "No!", maybe a "sorry!" or a "please!" thrown in, but basically just screaming and crying. It's all I can do to breathe and I can just occasionally gasp in a lung full of air between screams and it almost sounds like I am laughing because I'm being spanked so hard and fast...kind of letting out a sustained "ah-hah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-hah-hah-hah-ah!" Eventually, be it a minute or a thousand years, I am told to get up. Mom says "You get your fanny in your bedroom and you stay there till I call you down for supper. You're to get in your pajamas because you're through for the day. You will be allowed to join us for supper and then you are to go back to your room and go to bed is this understood?" (Yes Ma'am) "And I am going to tell your Father about this when he gets home. We'll see what he thinks about the way you behaved..." "Oh...please Mom...don't tell Dad...please." "Get your bottom in your bedroom NOW...unless you want to go back across my lap..." I took off like Usain Bolt running the 100 Meter dash.

I get to my room and ***** off my clothes, this really just means kicking off my pants and panties since they never went back up, and pulling off my shirt. I then go look at my butt in the full length mirror on the back of my door. It's beet red and the lower cheeks are scarlet tingeing on purple. My bottom is swollen and has puffy welts all over it, but mainly evident at the edges. I pull on a pair of pajama bottoms...I don't even bother with panties...and a pajama top and lay down atop my bed and cry and cry. My poor fanny feels like having slammed your finger in a car door...throbbing.

At this point it's about 1:00 and I eventually calm down to the point where I can read and I do so for a bit. At just past 3:00 my Dad walks into my room. Now...I had just been spanked for mouthing off right? You'd think I would be pretty cautious as to what I said or didn't say at this stage of the game, but no...Dad barges into my room and I look over startled and say "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Not the smartest thing to say because Dad says "You know....it's that smart mouth of yours that brings me here and, yes...I have heard of knocking...in fact I'm going to be 'knocking' that snotty talk out of you in a minute with the razor strap young lady! What are you thinking? Didn't your Mother just address this issue? Apparently she didn't do so sufficiently if this is the way you choose to talk to me." I say "No Dad...it's just can't I have any privacy here? What if I was undressed or something? Jeez..." "I'm your Father Jennifer and this is my house....I can take your door off the hinges if you like. I'm going to go get the strap. When I get back I want you lying on the bed with your pants down and your bottom up." So do I do this? No...he comes back and I am sitting on my bed. Sitting hurts like hell, but at least my butt's hidden and safe. Dad comes back and says "What did I just tell you Jennifer? Now you're getting ten extra for not doing as you're told." I plead my case in vain "Please Dad...Mom already spanked me and spanked me SO hard! Please...I can't take another spanking....I'll die!" "You can and you will...now if your bare butt is not across that bed by the time I count to five it'll be 15 extra....One....Two....Three..." I lay down on the bed and gingerly lower my pajama bottoms saying "Please Dad...Please don't I've learned my lesson." "I'll decide when I think you've learned your lesson...." THWACK!!!! My butt, which has finally stopped feeling like it has been dipped in boiling water from Mom's loving attention, is set ablaze again. I'm instantly put back to where I was when over Mom's lap...writhing and in agony. In deference to my Dad he only whips me about ten times or so...I really couldn't keep count. He then pauses for a few seconds and says "Now we need to take care of those extra ten. You know you are to do as I tell you don't you Jenny?" (Yes Sir) "Here we go..." This last ten, as all his 'extras' are, are given much harder than the original ones. Dad did not take kindly to deliberate disobedience and made sure we knew that. He finishes and I am left again a limp, snot nosed blubbering wreck, and says "I don't want to have to do this again...you're to watch your mouth is that clear?" (Yes Sir!) "Now...Mom says you need to stay here till dinnertime. When you come down I want you to apologize to her, understood?" (Yes Sir). Door closes...girl cries....girl again limps to the mirror to see broad scarlet stripes that have been laid across the wasteland of devastation that Mom had created not long before.

Fast forward to 6:00...I am summoned down to dinner. My sisters, Abby and Laura, are at the table and see me in my PJs which causes me to blush since that is a dead giveaway that I have had my butt spanked...that and how I wince when I sit in my chair at the table. Neither one says anything since Dad is at the table and they know better. Mom comes in with a platter and Dad says "Don't you have something to say to your Mother Jenny?" I tell her I'm sorry I was late and I say I am sorry I was rude and disrespectful and I won't do it again. Mom tells me that she accepts my apology. We eat dinner and I am quite subdued, but not silent...I am expected to contribute to the conversation, and I do, because if I pout I would be sent to bed without supper and that would be even worse (I speak from experience). About halfway through I ask my Mom if I can please stay up after dinner. Mom says "No you may not." Dumb as I am...I leave it at that. After I finish dinner I take my plate and glass to the kitchen. I start to wash them but Mom says..."Leave them dear....you need to get off to bed." It's 7:00 on a Saturday night and I am off to bed. Not off to my bedroom mind you...off to bed...no reading...no TV...do not pass GO...do not collect $200.00 because if I am not in bed with the lights out...you guessed it I'd get spanked AGAIN!!! This too I have learned the hard way.
spankedjenny spankedjenny
51-55, F
9 Responses Jan 12, 2012

Wow Jenny, what a day! Your poor little bottom.

Wow, your parents were strict. I see nothing wrong with you asking questions. In fact, even a bit of attitude wouldn't bother me. I have had my big mouth moments, and my mom did get angry, and I did get myself in bigger trouble. I only got swatted twice with her hand fully clothed., maybe a smack upsdie the head. But nothing more severe, as far as corporal punishment goes. I may be a bit stricter with my own kids, but not in the spanking area. I think the issue with the new parenting methods is that so many seem to think there are no punishments/consequences. There are...imho people confuse being their kid's friend with the new parenting style. I'll graduae with a degree in SpEd in December, and I hope to teach in the juvenile justice system or at an alternative school for teens with behavior problems. I've already had a student tell me "f you" (Don't be so shocked...it's normal!)

I really liked this story. I didn't get many spankings growing up but one of my dad's favorite punishments was sending me to bed early. I hated it. He would send me to bed at 3 in the afternoon. The sun would be shining in my window, I could hear my friends playing outside and hear the ice cream truck. I would actually think please spank me instead just don't make me go to bed. After spankings I always received a treat from my mom but bed time was alone time. No treats.

yes...I hated being sent to bed early. My two sisters got to stay up and watch TV (and usually something I really wanted to watch) or go out and play. It was especially awful if it happened in the Summer. And to have that on top of a roasted bottom made it all the worse. In my case it was my Mom who loved to hand out the early bedtimes and she'd do it at the drop of a hat. Mainly it came for failure to instantly obey when told to bend over or to bare my bottom

If not for my mom I probably would have been spanked a lot more. My dad did not repeat himself. The early bed times usually happened during the summer. I remember my friends asking if I could come out and play and my sister would cheerfully reply, that I as disobedient so I had to go to bed.

I thought the story was great. My Mom was strict too!

Dang. I mighta gotten slapped upside the head, that's all, for that.

Your stories are so well written that I can visualize everything, I'm glad I can't feel it though, holy crap! Rubber spatula over the bare, then a hair brush, and then the strap? I would have cried for the entire day into the night. Your butt took on some pretty harsh thrashings. I had my moments where I slipped up with my mouth, but never experienced anything like this. Like I said in another one of your stories, the razor strap scares the bajeezus out of me. I wouldn't take money to even see what that felt like, just can't imagine how dreadfully painful that is. My dad spanked me with his belt over my fully clothed bottom, and it stung, burned and throbbed, a lot...And that was regardless of what clothing I had on, when he wanted to administer a spanking, he did so. Really good description though...Sorry it happened, definitley sounded intense.

Thanks for sharing. While my experiences growing up were a bit different, when I did get in trouble, it was often because of a bit of temper that drove me to make inconsiderate and disrespectful comments that really were not the way I wanted to behave. <br />
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As far as the comments about spanking being abuse, I can say that as far as my sister and I and our cousins and some of our friends, we didn't look at it that way at all and we still do not. I had nothing but love and respect for our parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. <br />
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We all grew up to become respectful, productive and caring adults. The discipline we received, the work ethic we learned working on family farms, working with and being guided by our loving parents and other family members held us in good stead. We received quality educations, both in academic studies and in what we learned at home and I can't think of one person in my generation of our family who has not had a fair amount of success in their chosen path in life. <br />
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I recently read an article that talked about situations where a young person is getting all upset and making a scene in a public situation, like a grocery store. The author talked about how yes it is difficult for a parent to endure such things and yes it is disruptive to other shoppers, but the best action may well be to just ignore it and let it run it's course. The author suggests that the child is trying to get attention or trying to get you to buy something or whatever and that by not responding, you are teaching the child that these outbursts do not get the response they want. <br />
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The author rightly indicates that the worst thing you can do is to give in and give the child what they want. Having observed some children who were raised into adult years with in this manner, I'd suggest that these tantrums often do not end just because the child doesn't get their own way. They learn that if they are unhappy about things, they can just throw some wild tantrum and express themselves in any manner they like.<br />
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In one such case, a long time immediate neighbor was a doctor and his wife was on the local school board. They had three sons who were raised something along the lines that the author suggests. As the boys grew older, the rows they would have just got bigger and louder. Indeed, the police were called on one occasion ... by a neighbor attempting to entertain his in-laws in their own back garden.<br />
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At any rate, these boys were raised by very well educated parents, in a beautiful home, given fine educational opportunities and so on. What they never seemed to receive was any semblance of effective guidance and discipline. Without getting too much into their specific personal problems in life, all three boy's have struggled greatly as adults. They have caused themselves and their parents a good deal of heartache and very substantial legal costs.<br />
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My family is far from perfect and indeed I am far from that mark. We all have shortcomings. However, the way my parents and aunts and uncles raised their children has produced a wide range of individuals who took up many different careers. These people are all pretty well adjusted folks who care deeply about their families and their communities. The most frequent feature of our get-togethers is laughter at some of the old family stories. We have remained close and been there for each other in times of sickness and loss. <br />
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I completely reject the idea that I or any of my loved ones were abused by receiving spankings and other discipline. <br />
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It's my own opinion, that the Dr. Spock theory of child rearing produced far more dysfunctional adults than the sort of somewhat old fashioned upbringing that many of us experienced.

Your reply is right along the same lines as my feelings on the subject. My two sisters and myself have turned out to be fine, productive members of society and I bear no animosity whatsoever toward my parents for the way in which they raised and disciplined us as children. Would I have preferred not to have been spanked? Sure...nobody WANTS to be punished, but I can say that I deserved every punishment I got because it was my actions that brought them on. I commend my parents for not putting up with any nonsense from us and that went a great way toward molding us into the responsible adults that we are today.

owwwwwww

It was a fantastic story, Jenny, I enjoyed it very much.