My worst ‹ and probably most embarrassing ‹ spanking was about a week after I turned 17 when my mother paddled my bare bottom while my best friend, Bill, watched.
Bill and a few of my other friends from school had taken me out the week before to celebrate my birthday. Since it was a school night, I was supposed to be home at 11 o'clock, which had been my curfew all throughout my teen-age years.
I didn't ask if I could stay out later, but I thought that since it was my birthday, Mom might grant me a little grace and overlook the fact that I came home a little late. After all, I was 17 now. I should be allowed greater freedom, or so I thought.
Mom was waiting in my room when I finally came in a few minutes after midnight. She didn't ask me why I was late. She simply told me that I was grounded for one week.
A week's grounding wasn't unusual for a missed curfew. Since I knew it would do no good to argue with her, I simply accepted the punishment.
On what was supposed to be the last day of my grounding, Bill stopped by to show me the new CD he just bought and to let me have a listen. While visitors were strickly forbidden during my period of confinement, I just couldn't wait to hear the new CD. Besides, Mom wasn't due home for another hour.
As we were listening to the last track, Mom walked in. She looked at Bill, then at me.
"Bill, what are you doing here?" she demanded.
Before Bill even had time to answer, she directed the same question at me.
"What is Bill doing here, Chris? Didn't you tell him that you were being punished?"
"He just stopped by for a minute," I said, knowing that I had no excuse but that I had to say something.
"Did Chris tell you he is being punished?" Mom asked, turning once again to Bill.
"I was about to," I interrupted.
Bill didn't know what to say or do.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble," he said finally. "I'll go."
"No, Bill, maybe you should stay," Mom directed him.
Bill and I were both stunned. Now what was she going to do?
"Since Chris thought it was all right for you to be here while he's grounded, maybe you should stay for his punishment, too," she continued.
"Mom, NO!" I cried, knowing that I was sure to get a good spanking.
"Really, ma'am, I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'll just go."
"No. I want you to stay," Mom said. "Chris needs to learn a lesson, and you can help me. Will you do that for me?"
What could he do? He couldn't say no.
"I guess so," he said after a minute of silence.
"Good. Chris, you take Bill and go in your room. I'll be there in a minute."
"Mom, please, don't do this," I begged her. Bill didn't know what he was about to witness in my bedroom, but I knew that I was about to have my bare bottom paddled while my best friend watched unless I did something to change her mind.
"Chris, don't make it worse by arguing," she said intently.
Without another word, I turned and headed toward my room, and Bill immediately followed.
"Have your shirt and bluejeans off when I get there," Mom called after us.
That's when Bill must have realized what was about to take place. "Is she going to spank you?" Bill asked almost in disbelief. Bill had been paddled frequently when he was younger, but it had been a couple of years since he'd had a spanking and he couldn't believe I was still being spanked.
"I'm sorry you have to see this," I said as I started peeling off my shirt.
I didn't know what else to say, so I didn't say anything.
I unzipped my jeans and began to pull them down, trying not to look at Bill. I sat down and took off my shoes and socks, then slid out of my jeans. I looked at Bill with a sheepish grin as I stood to face my friend in only my underwear.
Fear and anticipation gripped me as it did each time I awaited a paddling from my mother. Mom purposely made me wait a few minutes before she came in. But this time, it seemed like she was waiting longer than usual.
Bill remained silent. He hadn't said a word since we got to my room. I felt like an infant standing before him in my underwear. Neither of us knew what to do next.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Mom came through the door, paddle in hand.
I made one last attempt to spare myself the further humiliation of having to bare my bottom in front of my friend.
"Mom, please, do this in private," I pleaded.
"No, Bill is going to see just what happens when you misbehave. Now, let's get this over with.
"Bill, you come over here where you'll have a good view," she said, taking the chair from behind my desk and placing it in the middle of the floor.
Bill slowly made his way over and took his seat.
"All right, Chris, get your underwear off."
"Mom, not bare, please," I begged.
"Have I ever let you keep your underwear on?" Mom demanded. Turning to Bill, she said, "I always spank on the bare bottom, and I always use a paddle.
"Now, come on, Chris, get your underwear off NOW!"
I looked at Bill. His eyes were the size of quarters. He looked like he was the one about to get the spanking.
"Come on, son, let's get this over with."
I turned around so that my back would be to Bill. I slowly lowered my underpants and let them fall down to my ankles. Then, I stepped out of them.
It was only earlier that day in gym class that I had stripped in front of Bill for a shower, but that was different. He wasn't staring at me then. He probably didn't even notice. But now he couldn't help but notice.
Mom sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Bill, and motioned for me to lay across her lap.
"I always put him over my knees, too," she anounced to Bill. "Keeps him from squirming around.
I bent down and stretched myself across Mom's lap, my legs dangling. Mom quickly adjusted my body to the proper angle, then picked up the paddle.
It was a fraternity-type paddle, 22 inches long and three-fourths an inch thick. Mom had another, smaller, paddle that she preferred using because it was easier to handle, but that day, for Bill's sake I'm sure, she brought out the big board.
After 17 years of giving me spankings, Mom was an expert at wielding a paddle. She raised the board, then brought it down squarely and solidly across my naked backside.
I winced. Mom kept one hand pressed against my back to prevent any sudden movements. She drew the paddle back again and let it fall right in the middle of my bottom, harder this time. I flinched again but managed to keep from moving.
The next swat landed below the first strike, on the upper fleshy part of my leg. By the sixth or seventh swat, my bottom was burning. Mom knew exactly the area to target to hit that sensitive "sit spot,'' that left me feeling the spanking for hours afterward.
Pausing briefly between strokes to let me feel the sting of each swat, Mom proceded to give me 17 hard licks with the paddle.
My bottom was now a bright shade of red. But Mom wasn't finished yet. She laid the paddle down on the bed and then began to give me a long set of rapid swats with her bare hand. One after the other with no break in between, she covered my buttocks with her handprint.
Mom never left bruises when she spanked me, but she left my bottom very red, and the outline of the paddle was still recognizeable several hours afterward.
Finally, she let me up.
"Chris, get in there and get your bath,'' she said. Mom always I insisted I take a bath after she spanked me, so I could soak my soar bottom.
Turning to Bill for the first time since the spanking started, Mom asked, "Do I need to paddle you, too?"
"No, ma'am!" he said.
"Then, I suggest you be going, and don't try calling Chris for the next month. He'll be grounded."