I Was Spanked
Spankings were as normal as breathing in my house growing up. I was raised by a working-class divorced mom in Michigan who had been harshly spanked by her own parents. My dad left the state when I was 5, and I started going to a Christian school that used a rod of correction. Around that time mom stopped using her hand to spank me and got a wooden spoon, which was later replaced by two wooden rulers taped together.
Mom ruled our house, there is no other word for it. Anything that could be construed as talking back or talking in a disrespectful tone of voice or giving a dirty look might earn me a trip across her lap, or when I was older, bent over the couch. Depended on her mood. Of course, real offenses like lying or disobedience earned spankings too. When I was spanked I was also always grounded to my room, at least for the rest of the night. Usually longer, and I had the worst possible chores when I was grounded.