Spanking Stories
Our favorite spanking stories are true accounts of actual punishments.  We were pleasantly surprised to see that Realspankings Premium had a large selection of storie.  Of particular interest, was a series of essays that appears on their site written by a women who grew up in a very strict environment.  Below is a couple samples from her essays, courtesy of Realspankings Premium.


In the South- Spanking from Mom

My mother was raised on a farm and then married a farmer.  As a result, she has worked very hard her entire life.  16 hour work days are very common on the farm.  The results are a very strong women who is built like a man (sorry mom).  I include this so you will know that there is no doubt that my mother is equally as capable of giving a spanking as my father and we feared her punishments as much as his.

Since my father spent most of his days in the fields, mom was primarily in charge in the house during the day.  As a result, probably 80% of my childhood spankings were given my mom.  She would never hesitate for a second to give a spanking.  There was generally no warning.  If you did something that she viewed as wrong or "inappropriate behavior" (her favorite phrase) immediate correction followed.  We (myself, brother and sister) were punished frequently and for a large variety of things.  It seemed almost everyday there was something new we could be punished for.  Common offenses were coming home late from school (in Cowgill you come right home and get to work with farm chores), rough housing inside, not doing our chores, not doing our chores in a timely manner, not doing our chores well enough, cussing, and the very broad category of "inappropriate behavior".  Inappropriate behavior generally came down to something that looked bad in God's eyes.

My mother's punishments varied consistently.  The only constant part of one of her punishment was the length.  She believed in very long and thorough punishments.  However, unlike my father (see the father essay), she would vary the intensity to fit the crime.  When I say a long punishment I do not exaggerate.  You could count on at least 10 minutes of solid spanking from mom and 20 continuous minutes was not only not unheard of, but quite common. 

Handspankings in our house stopped at about the age of 7-8. The implement used by my mother varied and was usually based on location of the punishment.   If I was informed I was to be punished by my mom in the kitchen a small wooden spoon was almost always used.  In the punishment took place upstairs in my room, her hairbrush was generally her first choice.  For living room punishments there was a small wooden paddle (the paddleball kind) that was kept in the drawer of the end table (I think you must be getting the point that my parents took discipline very seriously, implements for all rooms in the house).  Finally, there was another small paddle (more like a picket), about 12 inches long, 3/4" wide, 3/4" thick that was kept in the toolbox of our family truck. My parents were always armed it seemed.

As stated before, punishments were very immediate,  my parents believed strongly in this.  I cannot recall I single time in my life that I had to wait more than 15 minutes for a spanking.  They usually took place less than a minute after you found out you were getting one, even if that meant pulling over the truck and doing it on the side of the road (which happened to all of us more times than I can count).  

Here is an example of a spanking I received for a very trivial offense.

This one occurred when I was in the 9th grade.  A friend at school had loaned me a cassette of a band that I really had wanted to hear (not much as far as radio goes in Cowgill). I went home, did all my chores, cleaned up a bit, and put on my headphones and relaxed on the bed with my borrowed tape before supper.  Close to an hour later, my bedroom door opened and my mother told me dinner was ready and she had been calling me.  I apologized for not hearing her and went downstairs to eat.  Everyone had already stated eating and the prayer had already been said.  My mother told me to sit down and eat and that she would blister my bottom after dinner, she did not want her food to get cold.  Stunned I asked her why.  She informed me that it was my day to set the table and that she had yelled up for me twice to come and do it.  I pleaded and used the headphones as the excuse.  She said that that was not an excuse and that I know very well what day I am to set the table.  Past experience had taught me that there was no use in arguing, my ass was going to be blistered.  I couldn't help notice my brother and sister suppressing grins (we loved it when the other ones got it).  

My mom (who could really eat) finished her dinner less than 5 minutes after I had started.  She stood up and said "let's get that bottom blistered".  I politely informed that I was not finished yet with my dinner.  She then told me that she said she didn't want HER dinner to get cold, not mine and that I better stand up now and go grab the spoon.  The spoon was kept in a different drawer than the other utensils and was used exclusively for spankings.  While everyone was still eating (brother and sister now actively grinning) she told me to drop my jeans and drawers and bend over the counter.  We were required to drop our pants all the way to our boots, she liked to have access to the upper thighs as well as our bottoms.  With the spoon it was generally always the same.  She would put her left hand on my lower back and hold me in place and then get to work.  As I said before, luckily, my mom varied the intensity of the punishment to fit the crime.  For something like this I would get a long spanking, but it would not be her hardest.  Although, even a mild spanking from her would result in tears in the first minute.

Without any more words she began.  My mom used the spoon faster than any other implement.  The strokes started at about 2 per second and stayed that way throughout.  She was always sure to cover every inch of space on my ass and upper thighs (another way that she varied a lot in style from my father).  As much as it hurt we were very well trained to hold as still as humanly possible.  This spanking took about 30 seconds before I began to become vocal.  At 60 seconds or so the tears started to flow.  Less than 2 minutes into it I was blubbering like a baby.  Mom would generally keep spanking until the crying had almost stopped.  It was her way of "breaking my will" whatever the hell that meant.  The spanking continued for 10-12 minutes, enough time that everyone had finished eating and left the room.  Mom liked to finish her spanking in almost the same way every time.  She would concentrate on the very lowest part of my bottom and hit the same spot on each cheek over and over.  Those two spots probably received more than 100 strokes in a row.  Her goal was to provide me with an extra reminder when I sat for the next couple of days.  It always worked!

After she felt my bottom was properly sore, she stopped and told me to finish my dinner.  She also told me that since by brother had to set the table for me that I would be doing cleanup tonight (which sucked because I had done it the night before and it was quite a task).  With that said she left the kitchen.  I sat gingerly for about 10 minutes and just picked at my food.  The great thing about punishments in my house is that after the spanking all was forgiven.  Spanking was our form of punishment and when it was over it was like nothing had happened.  We never talked about the spankings or rehashed why I was in trouble.  That night before my shower I could see the results of the spanking in the mirror.  She had done the same thorough job as always.  With a spanking like the one I just received, very fast but not too hard, my bottom was just peppered with very small little bruises.  They were faint and would mostly gone by tomorrow.  The two spots she chose to focus on revealed slightly larger and slightly deeper bruises.  These would probably be around for a day or two.  Experience has taught me I would be aware of these spots while sitting tomorrow but they would not cause too much discomfort. 

This was a typical spontaneous spanking in my household.  The example provided ranked on the lower end of the severity scale.

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In the South- School Teacher

The school in Cowgill was K-12th grade.  There were 13 teachers, 1 substitute, and two coaches who coached all sports.  Unlike many schools, in every grade you only have one teacher.  In high school we did not switch classes, one teacher taught all the same subjects.  So, of you ended up with a teacher you hated, you were stuck with them for the full 9 months.  

I always thought that most schools were like mine.  Every teacher had a paddle and so did the Vice-Principal.  I found out later in life that most schools that allow paddling, only the Vice-Principal can administer it and with a witness.  These rules did not exist in Cowgill and I was at that school until 1983.  As far as I know, it has not changed at all.

Most discipline issues were dealt with by the teacher of the class.  All teachers had a paddle (although sometimes a strap was used for the younger grades).  We all knew who the paddling teachers were and who were not.  It seemed all the teachers paddled occasionally, but some teachers paddled almost everyday.  When you were in one of their classes you were always on your best behavior (I guess that is the point).  There were also a couple of female teachers who would refer you to the office more than they would paddle themselves.  The worst paddling teachers for me were in the 7th grade and the 11th grade.  These were the kind of teachers in which the paddle stayed in the desk full-time, it was used that often.  The paddles were built by the shop teacher/guy's coach.  Every paddle in the school was exactly the same.  They were had oval shaped heads and a long handle.  They kind of resembled a small boat oar.  Each paddle had 2 rows of 4 holes and was about 1/2-3/4" thick.  

My 7th grade teacher was a female.  She was the only women in the school with a reputation as a paddling teacher, as well as being known for hitting hard for a women teacher.  Very occasionally we would go a day without a paddling in our class, but that was the exception.  More frequently there would be 1-3 paddlings a day by her.  The school policy on paddling in the class was very clear and all the teachers followed it exactly.  Guys could be paddled in front of the class, girls could not.  Occasionally a guy would get paddled in the hall, like the girls, but they mostly took place in front of everyone.  When a guy got in trouble in class, she would call them to the front of the class, pull her chair our from her desk, and have them bendover her desk, facing the class.  This was tough for the guys because everyone got to see how they took it all.  Certainly, a guy that cried (which happened on occasion) heard about it for weeks from his friends.  I do not know if it was school policy or not, but I do not know of any paddling at our school that consisted of more than 10 strokes.  It seemed 4-6 was the most common sentence.

She would paddle for any variety of reasons.  The most common were not completing assignments, talking in class, and being tardy.  I was paddled most frequently in class for being tardy.  She allowed you one tardy a semester.  Each instance after that resulted in a paddling.  Our farm was quite a ways from town so I was late often.  I really did not think it was fair, for my parents drove me in 7th grade and I had little control over the time I got there.  Regardless, come in after the bell with a previous tardy to your credit and you were paddled, no questions asked.  The only way out was to have a note from the Vice-Principal, which rarely happened.  It was almost the same each time.  If you came in after the last bell you were not allowed to sit at your desk.  You had to stand by the door and wait.  She would generally wait 5-10 minutes to see if any of the missing students in class were going to show up late.  If you came in late, you jut stood with the rest of the group.  On a couple of occasions I saw this group reach as high as 5 students (one time with me as one of them).  After every student was accounted for or when she felt that were not going to be there, she would begin the paddling.  She always started with any guys in the group and would paddle them in front of the class.  The number of past tardies would generally be reflected in how many strokes you received.  If it was only your second tardy 4-6 swats was the norm.  More than 2 and you would get at least 5 swats (we called them "licks").  If you were tardy all the time (like myself) 6 was the minimum from her.

After she paddled any boys in the group she would send all the girls into the hall.  Most of the time that this happened to me I was the only girl.  On maybe 4 occasions I was paddled with at least one other girls.  For me, a paddling due to tardiness happened at least monthly and on several occasion twice in a week  She would send me into the hall and follow me out with the paddle.  She would have me put my hands on the locker and form a straight line with my body and arms, bent at the waist.  The weird thing was, she got to the point of not even saying anything anymore.  There was no lecture, just paddling.  She would ask me if I was ready and then she would begin.  In retrospect, the swats were not all that hard.  But at the time, for a 7th grader, they were always more than ample to bring tears to my eyes.  Each stroke was placed in exactly the same spot and she tended to hit low, including just the very tops of the thighs.  I always wore a dress to school and it offered very little protection.  This is where I thought the guys were lucky, they could where jeans to school.  The average sentence for me was around 6 licks, but I had received 8 from her before.  After the paddling if I requested, I was always allowed to go to the bathroom to compose myself.  The hardest part was always returning to class and having to face everyone.  They would always stare at me and it was very embarrassing.

My 11th grade teacher was "Mr. Paddle".  He had the reputation as the hardest paddler in the school.  It was also widely believed that he enjoyed it and would look for any excuse to paddle you (in many cases I believe, unfairly).  We genuinely hated the fact that at 16 years if age we had to endure a full year with "Mr. Paddle".  He was truly a bastard and we all hated him.  Any student in the school would give you sympathy knowing you were in 11th grade.  In fact, 3 years after I graduated, he was fired.  As a result of his reign of terror, he had the best behaved class in school.  His main paddling reason was grades (because everyone always behaved themselves with him).  If you turned an assignment and did really poor, you would be paddled for it.  Unlike the my 7th grade teacher, he saved all the paddlings for the end of the day.  This is how most days ended in 11th grade.  He would call out the names of those to be paddled.  In many cases you never knew if you were to be included.  If you turned in a poor assignment, you would make the list without even knowing it until the end of the day.  You would just line up and wait your turn.  Like my 7th grade teacher, he always paddled the guys first and in front of the class.  He seem to have two different sentences, 6 strokes or 10 strokes, it was very rare for any other number of licks.

The guys were well beyond trying to control their emotions in front of the class.  When this teacher swung the paddle, the reaction could be heard in the next classroom from the very first stroke.  Any attempts at remaining stoic just brought on harder strokes.  Almost every guy at least yelled in pain from each stroke.  When he finished with the guys he would invite any girls in the group into the hall. As girls, hallway paddling from him always involved grabbing our ankles.  His manner with the girls is what led to his reputation of enjoying paddling us.  With the guys the paddling would be over as fast as he could lay on the licks.  As girls, it seems he would draw it out just a bit.  The first girl would be told to grab her ankles and then he would talk to the rest of us.  He would explain to us why she was being paddled and how we could avoid it in the future.  He would also explain that a painful paddling was required in order to make his point clear.  He had a theory that tears were a sign that someone wanted to change, so he felt they were a requirement. He would then rub the paddle on her bottom and ask her if she was ready.  Regardless of her answer he would begin.  The swats were literally almost as hard as the guys.  Girls generally always got 6 swats (only once did I ever get 10 from him).  The first lick would cause generally cause a whimper and the second would lead to tears.  He would take his time and really lay it on.  When he was done your ass was really on fire.  Unlike my previous teacher,  he would send the girl right into the class after her paddling.  Not just with tears still in her eyes, but actively crying.  The very worst was to be the last girl in the group.  It was in these instances that his behavior seemed the most inappropriate.  He would take even longer with the last girl and the rubbing of the paddle on the your bottom always lasted longer.

Here is a brief description of one of the times that I was last in the girls group.  Tests had been returned that day so there was an unusually large number of us getting it.  I was the last of 4 girls to get paddled.  All of them were paddled and sent crying into the classroom.  This was only my second paddling from him and I was quite scared.  His paddling, although short, hurt more than anything I had ever had to endure at home.  I think the main difference was love.  My parents loved me dearly and did what they thought was best for me.  This man was evil and did not love anything except making students cry and embarrassing them tremendously (I really believe this).  After the last girl was sent into class, I was told to grab my ankles.  He then went on about his normal speech and told me how he expected more from the girls.  He then rubbed the paddle on my bottom and asked if I was ready, I told him I was.  He then lifted the paddle to strike me and then waited.  He then stopped and rubbed my bottom with the paddle again.  He then lifted the paddle high in the air and swished it through the air without making contact.  The anticipation was enough to kill a person.  He then rubbed the paddle again and asked if I knew why I was being paddled.  I replied "poor test grade Sir".  he then asked is I knew why he paddled so hard.  I replied "to make an impression" (I wanted to say "because you enjoy it").  He then gave me some of the corporal punishment quotes from the bible that I heard a thousand times including one about doing it with vigor and that as a result "the child would not die".  A few more rubs with the paddle and then the first stroke.  It was as hard as anything I have ever received.  I screamed out loud, certain that the entire hall had heard me.  He then asked me if that one was doing the trick, which I did not answer.  Then the next stroke, followed by "am I starting to make my point?", which I answered through my tears" yes Sir".  After each stroke he had something to say to me.  His strokes were particularly hard to take because he would alternate bottom cheeks.  You would take the full force of each swat on just one side, then he would swat the other, then back again. After 6 licks he told me to go into the classroom.  I asked if if I could have a second and he replied that I better get my behind into the class so everyone can see my tears, or we would start again.  I instantly went into class.

His paddlings, like no other spankings I have had in my life, left me sore for days.  Although he alternated cheeks, he seemed to hit the same spot on each one.  I would always have a large bruise on each side.  It would be purple for days and then slowly fade through a variety of colors.  He was also always quick to make comments the next day.  Things like "someone is sitting sorely today?", or "will you require a pillow for your desk this morning?".

The only good thing about being paddled by a teacher is that your parents never found out.  This was also the reason that most kids did not complain to their parents about him.  Most kids got it at home if they got it at school, so we were always reluctant to tell our parents anything about it.  Paddlings from the Vice-Principal however, were always preceded by a phone call home (see school-principal).


 
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