My name is Jaime. I am now twenty-years-old. I was born and raised in England and my family moved here to the states when I was fourteen. We had spent a couple of years over here on and off, so I was familiar with the country.
My history of spankings began when I was ten. This is when my mom married my step-dad. He had a strict British upbringing, and therefore he was very strict himself. I was spanked before this time very rarely, but it was nothing like what he gave. My first spanking came from him only two days after he and my mother were married (they didn't have a honeymoon right away).
It was summertime and I had gone to a friend's house, nothing out of the ordinary. When I returned home that afternoon my step-dad was furious. "Where have you been? Why didn't you let anyone know where you were going?" His voice was loud and angry. "I'm going to blister your bum for this and maybe then you will remember to let someone know where you are going next time."
He led me into a private room which he used as his personal home office. He sat down on a bench and stood me before him. Without saying a word he unbuttoned my pants, pulled them down, and then my underwear. I was a little embarrassed about being there naked like this in front of him since it was the first time he had seen me without clothes, but the fear was much worse than the embarrassment. I was a rather small kid, and he was 6'2 and two hundred pounds. He laid me across his knees and rubbed his hand over my little, bare bottom. Then, with what seemed like all his might he spanked me. I got twenty swats this first time, and I was screaming pretty loudly and kicking my legs. He easily held me down until he was finished.
Spankings became a normal part of my life. It seemed like he was always trying to find some reason to spank me, and when he did find something he would march me into his office, drop my pants, and spank my bare butt soundly as I laid kicking and crying across his knees. No matter how often I got spanked, each one was embarrassing. It never got easier.
My step-dad's spankings were pretty severe. I never got up from his lap until my entire butt was dark red, not to mention very sore. He usually used his hand, but on several occasions over the years he thought I deserved something more severe. He would send me out to find a switch to be whipped with, and he knew how to use it to. Sometimes he would have a switch soaking in water just in case, so it was ready if he needed it. These whippings were pretty much like the spankings - pants down and over his knees. The only difference was he used the switch instead of his hand. When he used the switch on my bare bottom he would really give it to me. My bottom would always bleed profusely, and the welts would remain for days.
As I became a teen the spankings continued. It was embarrassing to have him pull down my pants and underwear, lay me across his knees, and spank my bare bottom with his hand like a little kid. I started getting hard-ons when he spanked me. After he pulled down my pants and underwear he would usually make me stand right up against his thigh. He would then place my _c_o_c_k_ and balls on his knee before bending me over. There was also a few times where I had to bend over the bed or table for the spankings. When he positioned me this way he would hold my _c_o_c_k_ in one hand and spank me with the other.
The spankings didn't end until I left the house after graduating high-school at the age of seventeen. All of my friends knew that I often got bare-bottom spankings from my step-dad, and some of them had even witnessed a few. After the spankings ended I began to think about them more and more. I wished I could go back and have my step-dad spank me just one more time, but unfortunately that has never happened.