I was spanked twice after I "came on" to it at age 12. Once when I was 13, because, as I said, I had been caught stealing from the neighborhood Mom & Pop store. This is the account of that incident: . Briefly, Mr. & Mrs. Rathkey had a store two blocks from our house, and all the kids stopped in there to pick up small groceries for their parents, or to buy penny candy for themselves. The store had been there forever...in fact, my Father had stopped in there when he was a boy and the Rathkeys were a young married couple just starting out. I say that by way of letting you know that they knew my family very well. At 12 1/2, I started stealing. Just for the thrill of it I guess...something that kids do. At first, just penny pretzels when Mrs. Rathkey's back was turned, later I progressed to magazines, and Hostess Fruit Pies. (Cherry was my favorite!). One day, feeling cocky as usual that I had gotten away with it, I was on my way down the concrete front steps of the store when I heard Mr. Rathkey call my name. "You wouldn't happen to have anything extra in that bag today, would you, Darla?" he asked. "Not a comic book, or a little pie, perhaps?" My blood froze in my veins, my heart rattled my ribcage. "No, no sir" I sputtered. "Nothing like that at all!!" I fled down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, terrified that he was going to call the police! I ran around the corner, and threw the "Archie and Veronica" comic and the cherry pie into the nearest garbage can. I shook all the way home, my stomach in knots. I knew from the look on my Grandmother's face when I ran up onto the front porch that Mr. Rathkey had already called my house. She looked at me gravely, and said that I had better get upstairs, my parents wanted to see me. I hung my head and clutched my stomach, anticipating a screaming lecture and not being allowed to go to a play the next night (a Sunday, I recall) with Frank Sullivan...my first real date. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I certainly didn't expect what DID happen. I hadn't been spanked in over a year...I was too big a girl for that now, my Mother had said. In the meantime I had rocketed into puberty, and for the first time I was having spanking fantasies on an almost nightly basis. It was odd to me...I certainly hadn't enjoyed them when they had happened, and suddenly, imagining being over my boyfriend's knee with my panties down was making me wet and wild in my bed alone at night. Both my parents were in the kitchen. My Mother sat at the table, her eyes wet. My Father stood over by the sink, his thumb hooked in his belt. Neither spoke at first, each waiting for the other. "What...we don't feed you enough?" my Father began. "How can you shame me like this, Darla? You think Mr. Rathkey didn't call as soon as you left the store? You think he didn't tell me this has been going on for some time, and that he let it go because our families have been such good friends all these years? How do you think your Mother and I feel? Look at your Mother! Look at her!! Half of what you are going to get is because you hurt your Mother, Darla!!" I was sick to my stomach, wishing the last year had never happened, wishing I had never stepped into Rathkey's this afternoon, wishing ..."what I was going to get?" What did he mean? I looked up at him, tears in my own eyes, half from remorse, half from fear. "Daddy?" I questioned. "Daddy, I'm really really sorry I did this...I didn't think..." "Yes, I know about that Darla...you didn't think. You didn't think you were going to be caught, you didn't think we would find out, you didn't think how it would hurt us...and I'm sure you didn't think that this kind of stupid, childish act was going to earn you the worst spanking you've ever had!!" The words hit me like a wall of bricks. Spanking?? No..that can't be... "Daddy, no, I don't get spankings anymore, I..." "Your Mother and I have already discussed this, Darla. Yes, I know we said you were too old to be spanked anymore. But this is a very serious business, and the punishment has to be something you will remember all your life. Do you understand?" I was frantic. There were NO thoughts of arousal, no little fantasies now...this was for real, and they were angry, and all the terror of an 8 year old came back to me, along with the utter horror of having my developing body exposed for such a humiliating punishment. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND??" he thundered again. "Yes, Daddy", I said faintly, my hands protectively behind me already. "And after that, there will be corner time. And after that you will stay home tomorrow night and nurse your bottom instead of seeing the play with Frank. Do you understand THAT?" "Yes, Daddy", I started to cry. "Now, here's what is going to happen, young lady. You are going back to your room right now. I want you to put your desk chair in the middle of the floor, and I want you to sit quietly on the edge of the bed until your Mother and I come back there." "Both of you?" I looked up from under my wet lashes, frightened. "Both of us. You hurt both of us, didn't you?" "Yes, sir.' "Then both of us are going to punish you. Your Mother is going to warm your panties for you, and then they are going to be pulled down, young lady, and your Mother is going to give you the best paddling you've ever had!" "Oh, no Daddy...please...." I started to beg, backing away. "Never mind that, Darla. It won't do you any good. When your Mother is finished with you, you'll have five minutes to compose yourself and rub your bottom. Then, young lady..." he patted his belt..."you are going to bend over for Daddy,. and I am going to give you the strap!" I threw back my head and wailed. "NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, Daddy PLEASE, I'll do ANYTHING, I'll be grounded for a month...a year...PLEASE?????" He grabbed my arm, pulled me away from the stove, and cracked my bottom twice, very hard, with his hand. I wailed and wiggled frantically. "NOW, Darla. Go to your room..NOW!!!" They let me sit in there at least 15 minutes...it seemed like an hour. I tried to think of how to escape...I actually thought about crawling out the window and jumping from the second story back porch. I was crying, I was frantic...but in my heart I knew I deserved it. The look on my Mother's face, her wet eyes...I felt like dying of shame and remorse. When at last they knocked softly on the door and came in, my stomach twisted and I began to cry again. "Do you have anything you want to say to us, Darla Lynn?" my Mother asked as she sat down hard in the straight-backed chair from my desk. I looked up at her, and the words came straight from my heart. "I'm so sorry I shamed you Mom...I promise nothing like this will ever happen again. I feel so bad..." "Yes, I'm sure you do, Dar" she said softly, "and the second part is feeling your spanking so that the lesson sinks in. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mom" I sobbed. "Come over to me, young lady!" I walked to her side, she tugged my corduroy pants down to mid-thigh, and with one swift movement she took hold of my wrist and pulled me down across her knees. I felt my face redden as my white nylon panties pulled tight across my upturned bottom...I knew from bitter experience that they wouldn't offer any protection. "I...I'm sorry Mommy..." I managed to choke out before her right hand slapped down across both cheeks. I yelled and my leg kicked up...I had forgotten how much her hard hand could hurt. Twenty times it rose and fell, me crying after spank number 3 and not stopping even after she stopped. She held me in place across her knee, letting me cry it out for a few minutes. "Darla?" "Yes, Mommy?" "I'm going to pull down your panties, young lady, and begin your paddling." "Mommy, no please...it already hurts a lot, I think I've learned my lesson, Mom, ..." "That's enough, Darla. The simple fact that you are still arguing shows Daddy and me that you haven't learned anything yet." My Father had been so quiet that I'd forgotten he was in the room. I blushed furiously at the thought of him seeing my bare behind. It was as if she read my thoughts. "You may stay in position, Dar, you don't need to get up. Just lift your tummy a little...there, good girl!" I groaned in humiliation as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of my panties and pulled them down to keep my corduroys company. She patted my bottom. "You're nice and pink after your spanking, Darla, but you evidently have a long way to go to learning your lesson!" I heard movement, and realized Daddy was probably handing her the hairbrush. "Mommy, no please, don't paddle me Mommy, I'll be a good girl, I'll never steal anything again, Mom, please...not the hairbrush, Mommy, it stings so bad...please!" I was already twisting and crying, and she grabbed my flailing right hand as a precaution and pinned it to the small of my back. She re-arranged my bottom so it was at the highest possible point over her right knee, and I heard her raise the brush. It cracked down hard on my tender right cheek, then left, then center, then the place where bottom meets thigh, then back to my right cheek and the cycle began again. I howled and bucked and begged and pleaded and kicked to no avail. The hairbrush came raining down, leaving angry red oval imprints all over my 13 year old fanny. By the end of the paddling,I was broken and sobbing in complete submission. "Mommy, I'm sorry" I wept, laying limply over her lap as she stroked my flaming cheeks with a cool hand. "Ssshhh, baby, I know you are. But what you did was very very bad...you know that, don't you?" "Yes, Mommy" I sobbed, gasping for breath. "And you know your punishment is not over yet, don't you?" "Yes, Mommy" I groaned, all fight gone. "Five minutes, Darla Lynn" I heard my Father say. "You may have five minutes to rub your bottom and get ready for the strap. Understood?" "Yes, Daddy" They both left the room, and I threw myself down on the bed, crying as if my heart would break. I had glanced at my rear in the mirror...it was flaming red and I had no idea how I was going to be able to take the strap. I massaged it tenderly, trying to remove some of the sting before my next punishment, but the five minutes were up in a heartbeat. They both came back into my room and I turned my head to look at them...with my red bottom and tear-streaked face, I must have been quite a sight. My Dad had rolled up his right sleeve, and was flexing the strap as he entered my room. He doubled it, holding the loose ends firmly, and stroked it across his left palm. "Darla?" "Yes, Daddy?" "Time for the strap, young lady. You may stay on the bed...just swing your legs around so they are over the side, and let's get some pillows under your tummy so your fanny is up nice and high for Daddy." I was crying softly, but I knew there was no point in arguing, so I stuffed my two pillows under my belly and pushed myself into position. I felt so completely exposed and helpless, my bottom up high and bare for the leather strap I knew would sting like wildfire. I buried my head in my arms and cried again. "Darla, it's your choice. This can be the last spanking you'll ever get, or it can simply be the first of the last. Your Mother and I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. We taught you better than this, and we demand better than this. Understand?" "Yes, Daddy" "And we will not hesitate to take your panties down over and over again until you leave this house for good if there is any repeat of this kind of activity. Do you understand THAT?" "Yes" Yes WHAT?" "Yes, Daddy!" I sobbed. "That's better. Count for me Darla. And if you do not count,or miss a count, we start over, is that understood? "Yes, Daddy.....oooooohhhhhh Daddy, I'm so sorry, please don't strap me hard Daddy, my fanny stings so much!" I couldn't help myself. The strap hissed through the air and cracked across my red bottom like a live wire. I threw back my head and screeched "ONE" through my sobs. He punctuated the strapping with questions... "How does that feel, young lady? As good as stealing? Are you learning your lesson, Darla? Is the strap teaching you? Can you only learn when your panties are down and Daddy is strapping you?" I shouted and tossed my hips and bucked my bottom and cried and counted until I was hoarse...twenty-five strokes in all. When he finished, he left the room, and my Mother sat on the bed, holding me and pressing a cool washcloth against my scarlet bottom as I sobbed in her arms. "I love you, Mommy" I wept, burying my face in her shoulder. "I know you do, Darla, and we love you too. That's why we were so upset, and why we had to spank you so hard...do you know that?" "Yes, Mommy. Thank you." "Corner time, Sweetie." I groaned again. "Leave your pants and panties where they are, and go into the dining room. You'll stand with your nose against the wall for one half hour, young lady, to think about what happened today. And then to bed. I'll bring you a sandwich later." I was beyond shame. I hobbled into the dining room, thankful that at least my brothers had evidently run downstairs to my Grandmother and wouldn't see my humiliation. I pressed my hot forehead against the cool wall and thought about nothing other than the burning sting of my behind, and how I never wanted to see another Hostess Cherry Pie as long as I lived!