I Got Spanked As a Kid
I got once the wooden Spoon from my granny, for torturing the young kittens. It happened in the bakery, a little but well built shed set apart from the farm for fire precaution.When I was a kid, it was still in use, to bake bread (often) or to heat a grandchild’s bottom (rarely). My mother was never very clear about this, but I followed her in her footsteps.
The spoon was delivered in a short but intense punishment, over my grandmothers lap under her arm. She had pulled my shorts and underpants off, and she whipped the spoon against my bare buttocks. My granny, the oldest of fourteen and mother of eight, knew how to give a boy a harmless, but very memorable spanking. The spoon fell in quick, sharp flicks on my bare backside, causing an intense stinging feeling that got worse by the second. I was a tough boy, but the pain soon became too much and I was bawling like a baby, crying hot tears and promising never to do it again. She stopped and put me back on my feet. I remember well that the sting continued to intensify for a short while and I hopped from the one foot on the other, trying to rub away the sting. The whole punishment took maybe thirty seconds.
I deserved that. My granny was a good farmer, who loved her animals. They were sold, slaughtered and eaten, but she hated cruelty against the weaker. My bottom stung unpleasantly for the rest of the day, but I was not bruised. I never forgot that lesson.
The spoon was delivered in a short but intense punishment, over my grandmothers lap under her arm. She had pulled my shorts and underpants off, and she whipped the spoon against my bare buttocks. My granny, the oldest of fourteen and mother of eight, knew how to give a boy a harmless, but very memorable spanking. The spoon fell in quick, sharp flicks on my bare backside, causing an intense stinging feeling that got worse by the second. I was a tough boy, but the pain soon became too much and I was bawling like a baby, crying hot tears and promising never to do it again. She stopped and put me back on my feet. I remember well that the sting continued to intensify for a short while and I hopped from the one foot on the other, trying to rub away the sting. The whole punishment took maybe thirty seconds.
I deserved that. My granny was a good farmer, who loved her animals. They were sold, slaughtered and eaten, but she hated cruelty against the weaker. My bottom stung unpleasantly for the rest of the day, but I was not bruised. I never forgot that lesson.
By:
JeandL
Age:
56-60
,
Male
