"Bend Over!!" my mom yelled and once more my hands went down. "OWWWW!" I shrieked and both hands flew around to rub the sting out of my rear.
I didn't have time to think long before the paddle swung through the air and landed firmly across the middle of both cheeks. I was deeply embarrassed to be bent over in front of them like this, with my bottom and thighs presenting such a wonderful target for the paddle. My pleading did no good as she just ordered me to "turn around and bend over on that bench!" I turned around, leaned over and placed my hands on the bench. I approached the two ladies, handed mom the paddle and begged her not to spank me. I hoped that my aunt would leave before I returned outside but as I went out the door I saw through my tears that they were both still there. I went into the kitchen and retrieved the hard, wood paddle. My eyes began to water as I headed for the house. "You know better than that! Go get the paddle right now!" she ordered. As soon as I said it I knew I was in big trouble. Now, finding a worm was no big deal but this one was fat and yucky! Before I knew what I was doing I hollered "OH GOD!" except I stretched out the syllables a bit. My favorite aunt had dropped by and she was talking with us as we sat in the shade of pecan trees, me on a small bench and my mom in a chair.Īs I pulled back a shuck to expose the ear, a HUGE worm was inside. Often I wore a plain, cotton dress but sometimes I wore slacks and at times I was allowed to wear shorts. One of the most embarrassing spankings I got came when I was twelve years old it was also one of the last ones I got.
I remember several occasions when I felt that hard wood smack my bottom and the searing pain that radiated across my rear. It was kept on top of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The paddle was made of wood and was about a foot and a half long. My parents believed in the phrase, "spare the rod and spoil the child." Actually, it was a paddle, not a rod! I may have been a girl and an only child but I was certainly not spoiled. My grandfather (my mother's dad) was a preacher. My parents were hard-working, conservative and religious. I helped my Mom around the house, helped some with the livestock and when I got old enough, drove the truck when we loaded hay. I was raised on a farm and knew the meaning of hard work. I hope you enjoy it I am rather curious what folks think about my story. Hi, my name is Michelle and this is one of my "real life" experiences.