I grew up in a spanking household.  My parents were strict and my siblings and I were spanked frequently.  It was all the usual sort of stuff that you read a lot about.© Y Lee Coyote

After I managed to squeak through high school in five long years I suffered at home a while longer.  One would think the spankings would have stopped but they didn’t.  Of course there were no longer big red F’s but undone chores and being late etcetera, etcetera, etcetera that got my tail roasted to a bright glowing red.

I moved out.  I had a stinking job flipping burgers and a great apartment mate who accepted my dealing with household chores as partial payment for my share of the rent.

Things were good until we had my mother over for dinner and a look-see visit.  She was, in a word, DISPLEASED!  Displeased with my inadequate doing of chores exactly like when I was at home.

A few minutes later Donovan was telling her that he had complained about such things but that did not motivate me to change.  Then the abyss opened up for my dear mother expounded  “It has been a long time problem with Tommie not doing his chores throughly.  The only thing that worked was spanking him good and hard on his bare bottom.”

“Really?” said a surprised Donovan.

“Yes.  Most certainly.” she said and in just two shakes of a lamb's tail she had gotten her evil, wicked, vicious hairbrush out of her handbag and sat on the sturdy side chair.  “Come here, boy.” she commanded just like she always did.  I was well conditioned so I could not resist and instantly was standing before her with my head bowed dreading what I knew would come next.

As always the lecture was even more scathing than in the past because it added dishonesty.  Then she opened my jeans and yanked them down with my boxers before pulling me over her lap.  Then it was WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! to turn me into her little bawling boy as she had done for years.  Finally, as always, it was into the corner to contemplate my misbehavior.

As I did so, mother explained to Donovan what my faults were and how he should keep me on a short leash so I would stay out of trouble.  “My little boy definitely needs regular spankings.” she emphasized a couple of times.

“That is very interesting, Ma’am.  I will implement such procedures immediately.  If they fail to work, then I’ll have to find another apartment mate.  Thank you very much for your advice.  Do you have any other suggestions?” he asked with a grin.

“Yes, put him back into proper plain white briefs.  Boxers cause his head to swell as he thinks he’s grown up and mature.  He left them behind when he moved out.”

“Indeed.  That’s surely easy.  Thank you once again.” said Donovan. “Tommie will stop by tomorrow and get his briefs if that is OK.”

* * * * * * * * * *

After mother left Donovan started to talk to me.  He promised changes if I did not abandon my slovenly ways as he talked about previously.

I quickly felt like a trembling new cabin boy standing on the main deck of HMS Bounty while Captain Bligh tells the crew that “I am the law.” and talk of the cat.  It came down to that I must change my ways or he would take action.  Among the possibilities were to spank me and to evict me.

I had an early shift the next day and by the time he got home from work I was to have gotten my TW’s from mother and started on catching up on the housework.  Mother was prepared for me with the hated TW’s bagged for me along with a small gift for Donovan.

It was after supper that Donovan opened mother’s gift.  I was appalled!  It was an old style, wide-back wooden hairbrush.  The note was terse and to the point. “Liberal use of this will make life much better.”

Donovan was all smiles after he read the note. “I just got to try this out, Tommie.”  He quickly turned a chair into position and called for me to present myself.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.” I protested.

“No matter.  This is just a test and not a real spanking.” and just pulled me closer before opening my pants and yanking them down.

“Tommie, you did do something wrong.  You are wearing designer boxers rather than your appropriate TW’s.”  Of course, they quickly went south and I was over his lap in an instant.  He started with his hand.  The spanks were hard and hurt even without the brush like when I was a little boy and mother was much stronger than I was.

I was howling even before he switched to use the hairbrush.  That really got to me and I was soon crying.

“This brush really works well, Tommie.  You best do your chores or you will feel its wrath for real.  Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I replied through the tears.

“Finish up while I write a thank you note to your mother.” he said.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a couple of weeks before I slipped up and Donovan responded as promised.  We had a little chat and then it was over his lap again.  As with the first time he started with his hand only this time for a lot longer.  He commented as he spanked how nicely my butt was turning red.  It was increasing difficult to understand him because I was bawling.

The dozen with the spanking new hairbrush were intense.  I was quite sensitized and, of course, the brush is a small paddle that concentrated the force of his whacks.  Soon I was a blubbering mess with my tail on fire.

Need I say that I made promises again but resolved to keep them to avoid another torture session which I managed to for several months.

“Your mother’s advice was right on.” Donovan commented, pleased.

I think I was even happier after mother made a surprise visit and did not complain about my housekeeping.  An affirmative comment would have been nicer but that would never happen.