Bottoms Smacked on the Sacks: The Spankings of Mother and Daughter in the Coal-Pits

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A poor crying Karen thought it was over, but Mummy was reaching for the slipper. Karen looked to the mirror and saw it, she looked over her shoulder, up to meet her Mummy’s eyes. Then I heard her trot out this little ditty. “Spank a boy and do it right, trousers down, pants up tight. And if he smiles when he should frown, then spank him with his pants right down.” With that, Aunt Pam pulled my jeans down, exposing my underpants. My face was now near to the floor and I remember clearly the smell of the carpet, mixed with tobacco smoke as Doreen lit up a cigarette. It varied a little year to year, but on average we had about 300 pupils at any one time, ranging from four-year-olds in reception to the oldest being 11, when they went on to secondary.

Unbeknown to most of the class, during the lunch break the two boys in question had forced a younger pupil to swallow some marbles. Their victim had been taken to the local hospital as a precaution, but was not seriously harmed – presumably the doctors believed nature would take its course, and the boy would eventually just poo them out again. Penny had a half-hearted attempt at dissuading them both: “Natasha, its wrong to take a peak at a private meeting, bottoms bare or not. If you insist, I’ll spank your bare to kingdom come…” The shop assistant was indeed a W.I. member, and knew the women in the village. Mummy knew that it would soon be common knowledge that she was now armed.Sometimes, a whole class could get a ‘double stripe’ for rowdiness. Then, if you just got a single stripe on top of that, you were for it. A bit unfair, but this was Anne’s situation. I had also accumulated three stripes this way myself a couple of times, but for some reason escaped with just a telling-off.

At first, Penny thought, it could be Laywoman Lawson, known as Michelle – a very similar size and shape, but no, the voice was not quite right to be her. Although we did have the cane at my sweet little primary school in Wembley, London, in the 1960s, I managed to avoid it. However, at my senior school I was regularly caned and slippered as we all were, going into the 1970s. No, it was given on the seat of their underpants. I tried to make things quite a bit more formal and hopefully scary, especially as these were older children. With girls, it can be awkward to cane over a skirt, so I felt pants was the best and fairest option for both sexes. They allowed a bit of modesty for the older children without really offering much protection.

To say the least, the meal was a slow somber affair. Mummy had given her a small portion, knowing that her tummy would be in knots. Soon the table was cleared, and the pots washed. Once they were all put away, Mummy spoke. “Up you go.”Karen climbed the curved oak stair case slowly, her head down. She reached the landing and sulkily walked to her door. In she went and shut the door behind her, resting against it. She cried, she had let her Mummy down, she had been naughty girl. After all her praise, she was now a naughty girl, about to get a bare bottom spanking Soon her bottom was a lovely red, spreading down to her upper thigh. Mummy remembered the sit spot and how it stung, so delivered ten right across the point where her voluptuous cheeks joined her thighs. How they bounced, sinking in, then springing up instantly, and how she wriggled trying to pull free of the pain. But Mummy held her firmly, a tight grip around her waist holding the hand that tried to protect her. This annoyed Mummy, she was in mid flow! Murmurs and a few stifled giggles ran around the room. Every girl knew what that meant. So too did the teachers. The sobbing didn’t as the heat sank in, and pain exploded, she just wailed and wailed.”Now up you get… and straight to bed young lady, AND stay there… Once you have stopped crying I don’t want to hear another peep out of you…do you hear? Or you will be going over my knee again… Okay it’s done!” She sits, legs open, her chin on her hand, elbow on knee. “Hello all, I think you’ll like this un!”

The cane was given with the child bending over a chair, hands on the seat. I had a classroom chair which I kept in the far corner of my office for the purpose. This was the right height for the child to bend over so their bottom was in the right position. From the very first visit to the Girl’s Grammer School, it was made clear that corporal punishment was used. After a tour of the school looking at laboratories, home economic rooms and such like, the new girls were sat, with their Mums. At the end of the ‘Inroductory Speech’ by the Headmistress. It was made perfectly clear that corporal punishment was used to keep any naughty girl in line, and that parents had to sign a consent form to say that they agreed with the school’s Disciplinary Code of Conduct. This caused a mumbling stir in the Assembly Hall and the loins of many girls, as Mummy’s turned to whisper to their child. And what a sight met their eyes. Vicar sat, trousers at knees, his own bare cheeks upon the chair wood (Tasha nodded in approval). Across his lap lay a bottom bare of sizable girth, and rounded cheek being turned white to pink with vigour and vim. In short he was giving it what for with a good deal of welly thrown in. But who was the owner of those bare acres? She could be heard, but face not seen. They simply must look, but not be seen or they both might go over the knee of enthusiastic newbie, old-time Vicar. Mind you, thought Tasha naughtily, that might not be such a bad thing. Ladies of the PPC over a knee – it had a certain ring The journey to the end of the day was like some heroic trek in a fantasy novel. Long and arduous. The lunch time collection of the ‘death sentence’ sent a cold shiver to her tummy. The words left the slip and ran amok in her brain. There before her the words threatened her bottom.Mrs.Weltwaay put the detention slips into envelopes at the end of the school day. Then with a stern face told them to go home. By now really embarrassed, I went a bit further up the garden so I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, but then my mother shouted at me: “Simon! Come here!” The door handle slipped in her sweaty palm, the door made a noise far too loud. Mummy sounded so joyous as she shouted, “Hello dear, had a good day? Come and give Mummy a hug, I need one today.”