(gap: 2s) This is the story of how I earned my last spanking—or, to be precise, my last spankings. It is a tale woven with the threads of innocence, temptation, and the stern but loving discipline that shaped my character. The events unfolded on a grey, blustery afternoon in Liverpool, when the world seemed both full of promise and fraught with peril for a girl on the cusp of adolescence.
(pause) My friend Penny and I, brimming with the restless energy of youth, decided to visit the local shopping centre. The mall, with its bright lights and bustling crowds, was a wonderland to us—each shop window a treasure chest brimming with delights we could scarcely hope to possess. We wandered from store to store, our eyes wide with longing as we admired the latest fashions: soft woollen jumpers, smart pinafores, and shoes that gleamed temptingly beneath the fluorescent lights. Yet, as was so often the case, our pockets were light and our dreams just out of reach.
(pause) It was then that I spotted a pair of sunglasses—sleek, stylish, and utterly irresistible. The price tag, however, was a cruel reminder of my limitations: twenty dollars, while I had only fifteen. The temptation gnawed at me, whispering that it was only a small thing, that no one would notice. Caught up in the folly of youth and the thrill of rebellion, I slipped the sunglasses into my pocket, my heart thudding with a mixture of excitement and dread.
(pause) As Penny and I made our way towards the exit, the world seemed to slow. The moment we crossed the threshold, a shrill alarm shattered the illusion of innocence. My cheeks burned with shame as a shop assistant approached, her expression a mixture of disappointment and weary resignation. Penny, innocent of any wrongdoing, was allowed to leave, but I was led—trembling and silent—to a small, windowless office at the back of the shop. The walls seemed to close in around me, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and anxiety.
(pause) The police were summoned, and the wait for their arrival felt interminable. When they finally appeared, their uniforms crisp and their manner gentle but firm, I felt the full weight of my actions settle upon my shoulders. The shop owner, after a brief discussion, decided not to press charges, moved perhaps by my youth and the obvious remorse etched upon my face. The officers, in their wisdom, chose a different path: they would escort me home and speak with my mother, trusting that she would mete out the appropriate consequences.
(pause) The journey home was a silent one, the city’s familiar streets now seeming strange and unwelcoming. When we arrived, Mother greeted us at the door, her face a mask of confusion and concern. The sight of two police officers at her side was enough to drain the colour from her cheeks. We gathered in the living room, the coal fire crackling in the grate, as the officers explained what had transpired. Mother listened in silence, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her eyes never leaving my face. When the officers departed, she assured them—her voice steady, though tinged with sorrow—that she would address the matter firmly and that such behaviour would not be repeated.
Once the police had departed, Mother sent me to my room and ordered me to get ready for bed, even though it was only three in the afternoon. Having dismissed me, she went into the garde and cut a switch, then came up to my bedroom with it in her hand.
Mother gave me a thorough scolding for what I’d done and told me I was going to get the whipping of a lifetime. She ordered me to bend over the bed, she then went to work on my bottom with that wicked switch.
I can assure you that I was soon in tears. I got a dozen strokes and my bottom was so hot and so, it was unbearable.
Eventually when it was all over Mother gave me a hug . She assured me that she still loved me, even though she had to spank me. Then she added: “Stay in your room until dinner. Your father and I need to talk about your misbehaviour.”
Things went from bad to worse at dinner. First, I was grounded for the remainder of that week and the two following.
I don’t begrudge the penalties my parents imposed. The discipline taught me a valuable lesson in honesty and I have never stolen anything since that fateful day in the mall.
