I do not recall when it had first begun but this is what I remember. I was about six at the time, so Jack, my half brother must have been ten. Mark, my other brother, would have been 7.
One of my earliest memories is of waiting by the living room door until my dad opened it and let me and my brother into the room.
My eldest brother, he was my half brother, would already be in there and he was usually still crying quite loudly.
My mother always bathed the two boys who were not being punished as soon as we had finished our supper. The other boy would go into the living room with the spoon and mother bathed us together in the bath. Even with the bathroom door closed we could hear it downstairs.
Mother would explian why the boy in the living room was there and reemind us that we must always obey her and dad and be good. I always promised to be good and mother would smile back.
We would go back downstairs after our bath and stand in our pyjamas listening at the door whilst mother tidied things up in the bathroom. When the cries had ended dad opened the door and went to sit on his favourite armchair. I always sat on his lap.
My older brother was facing the wall, staning next to the Television with his hands on top of his head. His bottom was very red and he continued to cry for a long time. My other brother, who was one year older than me, and I never spoke. I just sat on dad's lap looking more at my brother, standing there naked and sobbing, rather than the television.
When dad told me it was time for bed I kissed him goodnight and rushed off to bed.
I think dad liked to see that my brother and I were looking at my oldest brother and saw what would happen if we failed to obey him. He liked the fact that we were a little afraid of him. We did not want red marks and dark bruises on our bottoms.
When it was my turn to go into the living room after supper I was terrified but dad just took off my clothes and turned me over his knee and that is when the pain started. I think I screamed the house down it hurt so much. I remember feeling very sorry for myself standing there with no clothes on, next to the TV, with a hot and throbbing bottom, knowing that my brothers were sitting looking at me. I hated dad then but I was also aware that I had become more like my brothers, rather than just being the baby of the family.
There is a very popular Bristish soap which has been running for years. Whenever I hear the theme music it takes me back to the times I got my spankings as a boy. That programme was always on after the spanked son was doing his corner time. Dad could enjoy his programme and, at the same time, ensure that the punished child kept his hands away from his bottom.
I sometimes wonder which of us was spanked the most often and it is hard to remember. My recollection is of seeing Jack's red bottom next to the television more often than Mark's.