will_wales
21-11-2009, 06:31 PM
This is a true story and happened when I was about 12.
It was a cold, cloudy November day and my friend and myself were on the way home from school via the beacj. We were larking round, and throwing pebbles at a small rowing boat anchored some 20 or 30 yards out in the sea. We were having some success and the pebbles were rebounding loudly of the wooden boat. I think my friend heard him first because he suddenly bolted off leaving me standing there for a moment wondering what was going on. I then glanced over my shoulder and there striding towards me was a burly middke-aged man in a scruffy tweed jacket and muddy wellington boots. He yelled at me demanding what I was up to and had grabbed my arm before I had got my wits about me and scarpered like my friend. Rather stupidly, I replied 'Nothing!". He stormed at me "Do you think I'm blind and stupid? I saw the pair of you throwing pebbles at my boat which I've only recently repaired and painted". I stammered a sort of apology, somewhat fearful now. There was a cast iron mooring post nearby and he marched me over to it placed his left foot on it , making a level platform of his left thigh. Unceromoneously, I was hauled over his knee, hands just about reaching th ground. My bottom was sruck embarrassingly high in the air and I remember being conscious of how tightly stretched the shiny, threadbare seat of my school trousers were. "I'll teach you what happens to little hooligans who mess with my boat. I#, gooing to give your backside a good tanning lad!". Before I had a chance to protest he had raised his hand and I felt the first resounding slap on my bottom. His hand was big and I bucked at the ferocity of the slap. But I had no time to reflect on it as he continued the spanking at a brisk pace for the next couple of minutes, spanking hard and fast making sure every square inch of my bottom was spanked - or so it seemed anyway. I was crying before he finished and I knew he had really given me a good hiding. I don't know what was the redder when he let me off his knee - my face or my bottom! Needless to say, when I got home I omitted to report the spanking to my Mum! I never threw stones at his boat again though!
It was a cold, cloudy November day and my friend and myself were on the way home from school via the beacj. We were larking round, and throwing pebbles at a small rowing boat anchored some 20 or 30 yards out in the sea. We were having some success and the pebbles were rebounding loudly of the wooden boat. I think my friend heard him first because he suddenly bolted off leaving me standing there for a moment wondering what was going on. I then glanced over my shoulder and there striding towards me was a burly middke-aged man in a scruffy tweed jacket and muddy wellington boots. He yelled at me demanding what I was up to and had grabbed my arm before I had got my wits about me and scarpered like my friend. Rather stupidly, I replied 'Nothing!". He stormed at me "Do you think I'm blind and stupid? I saw the pair of you throwing pebbles at my boat which I've only recently repaired and painted". I stammered a sort of apology, somewhat fearful now. There was a cast iron mooring post nearby and he marched me over to it placed his left foot on it , making a level platform of his left thigh. Unceromoneously, I was hauled over his knee, hands just about reaching th ground. My bottom was sruck embarrassingly high in the air and I remember being conscious of how tightly stretched the shiny, threadbare seat of my school trousers were. "I'll teach you what happens to little hooligans who mess with my boat. I#, gooing to give your backside a good tanning lad!". Before I had a chance to protest he had raised his hand and I felt the first resounding slap on my bottom. His hand was big and I bucked at the ferocity of the slap. But I had no time to reflect on it as he continued the spanking at a brisk pace for the next couple of minutes, spanking hard and fast making sure every square inch of my bottom was spanked - or so it seemed anyway. I was crying before he finished and I knew he had really given me a good hiding. I don't know what was the redder when he let me off his knee - my face or my bottom! Needless to say, when I got home I omitted to report the spanking to my Mum! I never threw stones at his boat again though!