Yes, I Was TooUntil I was 10 years old, discipline came in the form of a "good smacking" delivered by my mother. Half a dozen good hard smacks on my bare bottom, over her knee right after my evening bath. I hated being smacked because it hurt, but the nudity never bothered me at all - my mother bathed me every night so I was used to being naked in front of her.
Then she decided that I was too old to be smacked - told me that next time my father would give me "a good hiding".
That turned out to be a natural progression from the bathroom smacking. I was put naked over the end of my bed with a pillow under my middle bits - and strapped using a leather belt. It wasn't excessive, it wasn't cruel, but it was at least a dozen strokes and it hurt a good deal. My mother usually watched from the doorway. As I got older I became acutely aware of my nudity on such occasions and that had the inevitable effect - while waiting to be beaten I would anticipate the moment at which I would have to stand naked at the foot of my bed before "assuming the position". And of course it happened - I would become aroused and when the time came I was always fully erect. That was bad enough in front of my father, but with Mother watching from the doorway I was mortified. Then came the beating, and pain took over.
That continued until I was fourteen, by which time Mother and I were having terrible rows and time after time she would end things by having Father take me upstairs for an appointment with his belt - which by that time had become a heavier strap. She kept saying that I took the belt too easily and that I was getting out of control - it was time for the cane.