My Best Friends Mom , F-mm

[bigdaddy]

My Best Friends Mom , F-mm

Caution: This is an updated repost of a real life memory of a childhood spanking many years ago. If that subject makes you uncomfortable please read no further.

I'm not sure what brought about my interest in spanking both receiving and giving. But, I think the following real life incident played a role. It was a very long time ago (early 1960’s), but I will try to recreate it from what I can recall.
I was 11 years old at the time and was having a sleepover at my best friend Kevin's house; Kevin was a year younger than me. It was getting late so were told to go up to his room, change into our pajamas and go to bed.
Well we did go upstairs and change but we didn't go to bed. We were wrestling around and making a lot of noise, so a little while later his mom came upstairs and told us to “settle down and go to sleep”. Well we did settle down for a couple minutes, but then we went back to the same playing around.

After a several more minutes of that, his mom came back into his room holding a wooden spoon. She then told us that “if I have to come up there again you are both going to get a spanking”, while gesturing with the wooden spoon. I then said something about her not being able to spank me because she is not my mother, and she said “your dad said that I have permission to spank you if you misbehave”. (I think at that moment I had some rather negative thoughts about my dad.)

The threat of getting spanked did get us to quiet down for a while but we weren't tired enough to go asleep yet; and boys being boys, awhile later we started to get loud again. A few minutes later Kevin's mom came back into his room carrying the wooden spoon.

Kevin started telling her how sorry we were and pleading for one more chance, but she said something about having warned us and we didn’t listen so now we are going to get it. Kevin’s mom then walked over to the bed, grabbed Kevin's arm and pulled him out of bed. She bent him over at the waist, started pulling his pajama bottoms down, at this point Kevin started begging her not to spank him, but his Mom ignored his protests and started spanking his bare bottom with the wooden spoon:

Smack! Ouch! Smack! Owww! Smack! Owwee!

After the first few smacks Kevin started dancing and squirming trying to get away, but his mom had a firm grip around his waist so he wasn’t going anywhere:

Smack! Pleassse Smack! Don’t! Smack! At which point Kevin started crying!.
Smack! Wah! Smack! Waahh! Smack! Waahh!!! As the smacks continued his crying became louder
Smack! I’m Smack! Sorry Smack! Mom Smack! Waahhh! … Smack!

By the end of his spanking Kevin was blubbering and sniffling like a well punished little kid. I can’t recall exactly how many swats Kevin got at the time (maybe 10-15), but after she was done with Kevin she let go of him and he curled up on his bed rubbing his bottom and sobbing.

At this point I was really scared since I knew I was next. But, for some reason I felt different than I usually did just before I was going to get a spanking from my parents, which at that age usually consisted of getting up to 6 licks from my father’s belt depending upon the severity of the offense. I didn’t understand what it was at the time but in hindsight I think it was some form of pre-pubescent arousal. I’m not sure whether those stirrings were caused by the sight of seeing my friend’s bare bottom being smacked, or whether it was the anticipation of having my bottom exposed like that to a woman other than my mother, but I think it may have been a combination of the two.

As I laid in bed cowering under the covers in fear of what was to come, Kevin’s mom started to walk around to my side of the bed; I started to whine about wanting to go home and she said something like “it is too late for that now”. In hindsight I should be thankful she didn’t let me go home because I probably would have gotten it worse at home for misbehaving like that.

Kevin’s mom abruptly pulled the covers down and grabbed me by the arm and pulled me off the bed. She then bent me over at the waist, and wrapped her arm around me to hold me in place as I started to plead with her not to spank me as she pulled my PJ bottoms down and let them drop down to my ankles.
For a brief moment my fear was mixed with feelings of embarrassment of being exposed like that and some strange feelings that in hindsight may have been my first pre-pubescent erection, and then:
Smack! Oh! Smack! Ouch!

After the first couple smacks my concerns about the embarrassment of being exposed like that disappeared and thoughts were totally focused on the heat that was developing in my backside.
Smack! Owww! Smack! Owwww! Smack! Nnooo!! Smack! Please Smack! Stop!!!
During the first several I just let out some yelps and ouches because although it hurt it wasn't nearly as bad as my dad's belt which usually had me howling by the second smack. My dad usually stopped at about six, but Kevin's mom just kept smacking my bottom:

Smack! Sob! Smack! Sob!

As the spanking continued and the pain started to build I started sobbing and tried to pull away, but her grip was strong enough that I wasn't going anywhere.

Smack! It... Smack! Hurts! Smack! Waahhh!

I then tried to collapse my legs to drop to the floor but her grip was strong enough that she just held me in place.

Smack! Waahhh!!

I then made the mistake of trying to cover my butt with my hand and she told me “move your hand out of the way or I will smack it, and when I didn't move it she smacked the palm of my hand with the wooden spoon which started me howling.

She then resumed spanking my bottom alternating cheek to cheek and shifting the locations until it felt like my entire bottom was on fire.

I’m not sure how many total smacks I received but I think I received more than Kevin, probably because I put up more of a fight. I do know that by the time she was done I was bawling like a baby. She let me up and led me back over to the bed. I collapsed on the bed rubbing my bottom with one hand because my other hand was still throbbing.

She told us that we better go to sleep now because if she has to come back up we will get the belt. Of course at that point we were so cried out we fell asleep soon after.

I slept over his house several other times, but that was the only time I was ever spanked there, probably because we knew better than to call his mom’s bluff. Although each stroke from my dad’s belt hurt more than a swat from the wooden spoon the cumulative effect of far more smacks definitely made a lasting impression my bottom that I could still feel when I went home the next day.

I think that the longer lasting impression though, was in how that experience contributed to my development as a Spanko.

Bigdaddy