Christmas across the County Line: clare's first spankings

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It was at this point that perhaps the most embarrassing moment of all occurred – Aunt Peggy yanked my long johns up tight between my bottom cheeks. If I’d have had on normal pants it would have been a wedgie! As it was, it gave me another very squirmy feeling because the fabric was rubbing tightly against my sensitive skin in some very private places!

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Peggy shouted above the din: “Our special little English boy guest, with his very cute little behind, will now be initiated into true American hospitality. You’re gonna be one of us, kiddo!” I was manoeuvred into a centre-stage position by several partygoers, including Charlotte. She whispered in my ear: “Your turn now, sweetie – enjoy! You’re gonna end up a whole lot richer!” Kirsten and I gelled, because I was also adopted. However, we both were given the ‘rod of correction’ for our trouble. More of that another time.I was relieved that Charlotte had kept her leggings on, scant protection though they were, but as if she read my mind, Peggy added: “Pants down birthday spankings for the boys always, but not the girls. That wouldn’t be proper.” Perhaps because she was much older, perhaps because of her ‘donation’ (I realised later that Leanne had basically ‘bought’ me), I allowed myself to be undressed and soon I was playfully put across her knee, my bare bottom in the air. Then from out of nowhere (I didn’t see a handbag) she produced a tube of balsam soothing cream, and began to rub some into my cheeks which by now were very hot and pink.

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Even so, at my school in London there was no question of being made to take even your trousers down when you misbehaved, so the possibility that my relatives might administer a birthday spanking in public across my underpants still gave me the heebie-jeebies! Fast-forward a couple of days to Grand Rapids, and the birthday spanking actually theme came to life, much to my astonishment, but not with me as its subject – yet! Another cousin of mine, Charlotte, had turned 20 and there was quite a party. Late on in the proceedings, to much raucous delight, it was announced that it was time for her birthday spanking! So, one December, Uncle Donald, his wife Peggy and my cousin Leanne collected 14-year-old me from JFK airport whilst my mum and dad went on a business trip to Pittsburgh for a week. The idea was that we’d all meet up for Christmas again in Michigan. There was more patting and squeezing of my bottom cheeks, like they were kneading bread, and lots of cat-calls, mostly from the women. Charlotte, by contrast, had got a lot of male attention. Anyway, Sunday came and there was a big snowfall. The snow delayed Mum and Dad’s return, which was disappointing, but we did speak by phone and they wished me happy birthday. The Grand Rapids crew made a big fuss of me – we went ice-skating, and there was a big birthday cake. Later on I was given my first alcohol – a glass of Christmas sherry – which made me a bit light-headed. It was a big warm family affair!

Then my cousin Leanne leaned over and whispered in my ear: “I haven’t had my turn yet.” As I zipped up my jeans, I allowed her to lead me into another room, where we were alone. I was elated and a bit tipsy. Leanne was much older than me – about 45, I guess, and quite solidly built. She seductively slipped me a 50 dollar bill, and said: “How about a special private little birthday spanking, in your birthday suit, honey-pie?” The visits were wonderful experiences on the whole, often for two to three weeks at a time, and they were paid for through the books of my father’s business, nominally as a kind of apprenticeship, though I never actually went into the business. It gave me a little flutter in my tummy, not only because of what it was a public endorsement of something I naturally assumed should always be private, but because my own birthday was coming up! Peggy and Leanne teased me about that prospect of an upcoming birthday spanking, bought the paddle (for some reason it had an English crown on it!) and told me all about the tradition of birthday spankings in the States as we drove on. There must have been over 30 people present, family and friends. Charlotte pretended to resist, but in the end she quite happily and provocatively laid herself over Leanne’s knee, and there were lots of cat-calls, whoops and whistles. I’d never seen anything like this in my life before – a pretty 20-year-old girl virtually volunteering to be spanked in public. Rather out of keeping with the cold weather outside, Charlotte wore skin-tight white leggings. It almost seemed as if she had deliberately chosen to wear something saucy to get spanked in.