Although it is almost sixty years since it happened, I can still remember with the utmost clarity every single detail of the occasion, so vividly did it impress itself on my adolescent and receptive mind.That will be a summer to remember for young Paul.
It was a beautiful sunny summer's day, and I was home for the long summer holiday. I had been cleaning my bike in a shed in the garden, and was just going indoors to wash my oily hands when I heard my Mother's voice raised in anger. She sounded very annoyed indeed, and , wondering who the unfortunate recipient of her anger might be, I slipped behind a laurel bush and, parting the branches carefully, managed to see without being seen.
I could see my Mother standing on the steps, looking down at Ann, my two-year-old sister, and Hazel, the young woman whom my Mother employed to take Ann out for outings in the afternoons.
At first I could see no obvious reason for my mother's tirade which was obviously directed at Hazel, but I soon gathered from her words and from the baby's appearance, the reason for her ire. Little Ann, who was always turned out as clean as a new pin for her afternoon excursions, was absolutely filthy. Her once-white clothes were smothered in sand and cement, as was her hair and face. She seemed to have been enjoying herself if the state of her clothes was anything to go by.
It seemed that my Mother was accusing Hazel of neglecting her charge while flirting with the workmen on a building site not far away. She told Hazel, in no uncertain terms, what she thought of her and called her a 'hussy' among other things. Finally snatching Ann up in her arms she ordered Hazel to find some clean clothes for her.
When they had gone in, I made my way to the back door and slipped in unnoticed. I could hear the sound of voices and splashing water from the bathroom, and guessed Ann was being bathed and dressed. I washed myself at the kitchen sink and then decided to change my clothes, so I went quietly up to my room.
Just as I got there, I heard the bathroom door open and my Mother's voice saying. "Take Ann down to the sitting room and then come straight back up to my bedroom, Hazel."
I heard Mother come upstairs and go to her room, and a few minutes later Hazel's light foot steps followed her.
Opening my door a trifle I saw her enter Mother's bedroom, and waited for the door to close behind her. Immediately it shut I took off my shoes and crept along the passage and got to the bedroom door in time to hear:
"You have been a very naughty girl, Hazel, and you deserve to be thoroughly whipped for your disgraceful behaviour. I should discharge you from my employ and tell your parents why - however I will not. I prefer to punish you myself. Come here and lay across my lap!"
By this time I had my eye to the keyhole. I had a good view of my Mother sitting on the side of the bed and Hazel standing before her. As she spoke my Mother reached out and pulled her down over her lap. Hazel put up a brief, ineffective resistance, and raised her voice in protest, but my Mother was a strong determined woman, and in no time she had the unfortunate girl firmly laid across her lap with her head and shoulders on the bed. My heart began to pound as, without further ado, my Mother reached down and took up the hem of Hazel's skirt.
Hardly daring to breathe I glued my eye closer to the keyhole. Hazel's skirt was pulled up and tucked up out of the way, and then followed her petticoats and, as they were lifted, I was treated to a vision such as I had never seen before. First Hazel's legs came into view, clad in black stockings that emphasised their smooth, slender shape. They quite took my breath away for in those days girls did not show their legs at all and those lovely limbs were the first I had ever seen.
Hazel was a few years older than I was and, although I worshipped her from afar, she seemed too pretty and aloof for me to approach her.
I could barely contain myself as the final petticoat was tucked away and I was rewarded with the wonderful sight of Hazel's round well developed rear. Her immaculate white lawn drawers were almost knee length with a froth of lace at the knees.
The material, due no doubt to her position, was drawn tightly between her legs and clearly defined the full curves which started above the tops of her thighs. I was quite amazed at the generous width of her bottom which seemed to press against the restraining material of her drawers as though anxious to escape its confines. As I gazed, spell-bound, at this delectable sight hardly able to believe my good fortune, I saw Mother's hands go to the band at the waist of Hazel's drawers and begin to unfasten the buttons on each side. Hazel immediately began to beseech my Mother not to bare her.
"Oh Madam, please don't - please don't take my drawers down, I beg you!" - but my Mother took no notice of her pleas and calmly completed the operation of undoing the necessary buttons, and since Hazel's drawers were of the 'dropseat' type was able to lower the rear portion without taking the drawers right down. For a moment I was unable to see much as my Mother's hands and arms were in the way, as she adjusted Hazel's drawers to her liking, but then as she moved them away I was suddenly confronted with a perfect full view of Hazel's completely nude posterior.
My heart, already beating faster than usual, began to thump like a trip-hammer as my eyes took in the entrancing vision of the soft warm loveliness revealed to them. The full sweep of her sweet, lush curves, the two superb hemispheres of milky-white feminine flesh, now freed from their prison of white lawn, seemed, to my fevered eyes, to be literally thrusting themselves out in a manner both shameless and breath-taking.
My Mother's arm now raised to its limit, paused briefly and then fell like a speeding arrow, to its fair target. Her hand, much harder than it looked as I knew from experience, landed with a resounding "Smack" right on the centre of the left cheek and Hazel's chastisement had begun. Her bottom shuddered under the impact of the blow and her bottom cheeks drew tightly together. No sooner had the first smack landed than another was on its way. This time the opposite cheek was the target, and Hazel's plump bottom leapt and quivered as it stung her into action. Already a patch of colour showed where the first spank had landed, glowing brightly against the whiteness of the surrounding skin.
I could see that this was not going to be the slow methodical spanking that Mother usually gave, but a fast and furious engagement. The sight of Hazel's plump bare buttocks poised so invitingly seemed to have a strange effect on my usually calm Mother. Her face was flushed and her arm rose and fell rapidly, causing the naughty girl across her lap to squeal and wriggle her plump bottom in a way that made my eyes bulge out of their sockets as she afforded me glimpses of secret things I had hitherto never even dreamed of.
The hail of smacks soon turned Hazel's contorting posterior from white to brilliant red as the soft flesh got hotter and hotter. At first Hazel had remained fairly quiet apart from a few gasps but now she was squealing and crying continuously.
"Ah, oh,oh - please madam stop, I've had enough ooo please" - but completely disregarding the poor girl's cry of entreaty, my Mother continued to chastise her bobbing and weaving bottom.
Once Hazel tried to protect her burning bottom with her hand, but my mother brushed it aside and gave her a couple of vicious slaps on her thighs, saying as she did so:
"If you do that again, my girl, I shall take a cane to your thighs. Now stop acting like a child. Surely at your age you can take a spanking!"
Then, having shamed Hazel into accepting her fate. continued the spanking with renewed vigour. I began to discover that the sight of Hazel's rounded lovely cheeks quivering and dancing beneath my Mother's palm gave me a queer sense of excitement which I could barely contain. I wished that it was me spanking those delectable curves rather than my Mother.
How long the spanking lasted I don't know, maybe only two or three minutes, but it seemed to go on for a long time and, all the while Hazel lay there, her lovely bottom got redder and redder, until the whole of both cheeks was entirely covered with a hot glowing sheen. Her antics became more and more violent until at the end she was positioned with her hands pressed hard against the bed, her arms stiff and supporting her weight while the front of her thighs thumped hard against my Mother's legs as each stinging smack added fresh heat to her already flaming bottom. The quivering mass of her twin cheeks opened and closed spasmodically, drawing tight as the smacks landed, then opened again to their full soft supple width as she rebounded again.
She was weeping and giving tongue to strange inarticulate cries, but made no further attempt to escape from the really terrific rain of spanks which was now nearing its end.
At last my Mother's arm descended for the last time and slid limply across the blazing surface to rest at the junction of Hazel's thighs. My Mother's breast was heaving and her flushed face bore a strange exultant expression as she regarded the results of her labours.
Hazel collapsed on the bed and sobbed, and her throbbing bottom continued to rise and fall slowly in a regular rhythm.
Presently my Mother eased herself from under Hazel's supine form and, going to the wash stand, took a small hand towel and dipped it into the water. Then wringing it out, returned to Hazel and laid it on the girl's well whipped bottom. Hazel gave a deep sigh of relief as the cool damp cloth was pressed against her hot, sore rear and, after a minute or two, she ceased to weep and uttered only an occasional sob.
I rose carefully from my knees and stole away to my bedroom where I could indulge in my thoughts of the fascinating scene I had just witnessed. Although I have seen many girls being spanked since that day, and indeed have had the pleasure of spanking a few myself, I have never forgotten that first breathtaking day when I watched Hazel's drawers lowered and her shapely bare bottom prepared for chastisement.
Windsor Wednesday Classic – 70
41 minutes ago