Jay’s Confession

When I was young I fantasised about having my bare bottom spanked. I don’t know why this was but I remember vividly feeling gooey and strange whenever I read or heard about naughty girls and boys having their bums whacked. I used to read the comics Beano and Dandy, which was in the days before the politically correct brigade and STOPP. Both comics frequently showed naughty girls and boys getting their comeuppance from their mum and dad or teacher. The Beano’s Bash Street Kids were forever getting the cane or slipper across the bottom from their forever-tormented teacher. Dennis the Menace certainly knew what his father’s slipper felt like as did his counterpart Minnie the Minx.

Could you imagine the uproar today if a child’s comic contained images of a child being spanked! I’m certain that they would make headline news with the front page headline of the News of the World reading CHILDREN’S COMIC SUPPORTS CHILD ABUSE, or CHILDREN’S COMIC CORRUPTS MINORS INTO SPANKING PERVERTS.
Only I wasn’t corrupted by what I read, as long before I could read the subject of spanking fascinated me, and, for the record, I wasn’t spanked by my parent’s, in fact they never laid a finger on me. So that blows away the theory that children who are spanked as a form of discipline will become devout spankees.

I would often lie in my bed at night and before slipping into a fairy-tale world of ‘Never Never Land’ would think about what it would be like to be spanked. Many’s the time I put my pillow under my tummy and lay across it with my bottom raised. Oh the butterflies that gave me. But not content with the nice feelings that came with being in this rude position I’d close my eyes, take hold of the bottom of my cotton night-dress and slowly pull it up my legs then over my bottom exposing my knix. Sometimes, if I was feeling really naughty I would push my bottom off of the bed and push my knix down and just lie there with the cold air on my exposed bum while I imaged my dad’s huge palm slapping it until it became red and hot and I was howling with teardrops running down my rosy cheeks. But like I said earlier, I wasn’t spanked by my parents nor was I spanked by anyone else which is why I’m at the Kane office today with Josie and Cliff, dressed in my school uniform to try and recreate what I so badly wanted in my youth.

‘Your school report is awful,’ my aunt Josie says, ‘and I can see why, you’ve hardly attended school. You’ve been bunking off again haven’t you?’

I stand still and nervously play with my hands that are clasped behind my back. Aunt Josie is right, I have been bunking off school. She takes hold of my tie and points an accusing finger at me. ‘You deserve a good spanking my girl,’ she says, ‘and that is just what I’m going to give you.’

Aunt Josie sits down on her leather sofa and crooks her finger beckoningly, ‘Come here Jay.’ Slowly I walk towards her. I feel confident that the spanking won’t hurt. How can my aunt spank hard with such long nails, but my confidence soon deserted me. ‘Give me one of your plimsolls Jay,’ Oh lor, I should have guessed that Aunt Josie wouldn’t spank me with just her hand. Now I’m really in for it.

Full of remorse I slip off my right plimsoll and begrudgingly hand it to her, but there was worse to come, and this I really hadn’t bargained for. ‘Take your knickers off, girl, and hand them to me.’ Oh Jeez, this was too much, ‘No auntie:’ I plead. Please don’t – oh please don’t make me take my knix off – I’ll be so ashamed.’

‘Then you should have thought of that before you played truant,’ was her curt reply. Reluctantly I slip my hands under my navy skirt, slip my knix down, and hand them over. A few moments later I find myself in the undignified position of being over my aunt’s lap with my skirt pushed up my back and my rather chubby bottom raised.

CRACK!

 

Oh God – oh God – how the plimsoll stings. Tears fill my eyes and I blubber like a baby each time the wretched plimsoll slams into my bare backside. ‘Oh please stop auntie, I’ll never bunk off school – YEOOOW – again – YEEK – I promise – AAAH – SLAAAAP – WAH – oh please auntie!!!!

Finally my aunt throws the plimsoll onto the floor – my punishment is over. WRONG… ‘Kneel upon the sofa.’ I’m puzzled.

‘I said kneel upon the sofa!’

‘But auntie,’

‘No buts miss… Surely you didn’t think your punishment was over?’

Of course I did.

To be continued….


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