At mom's suggestion at 18 I agreed, after three years of not being spanked by her, to be spanked again.

We'd had some difficult times at home, totally my fault, and after learning from mom my cousin Ted and his mom, Aunt Jean, had resolved a similar family problem by her starting spanking him again I said I'd accept being spanked again. Part of the reason was mom said this time I'd get the strap and she showed me her strap I'd not seen before. I was mesmerized by it. Especially when she told me that strap had been given to her by grandma on her bare bottom when she was my age. She said it hurt terrible but was effective. I didn't want to be spanked, especially not with something worse than the brush she'd been using, but somehow I just knew I needed it and wanted to experience being strapped.

The first time, after a Fleet type enema to prep me, I went to her sewing room and after a wonderful warm mom and son hug I stood on her right side as she sat in the armless but padded chair I always thought of as her spanking chair. She undid my pants, lowered them with my underwear to my ankles and guided me down over her lap. Bare bottom up.

She gently rubbed the cool back of the brush lightly on my bottom. "You know you need this, don't you?" I said I did. She said, "Hang on dear," the brush no longer touched my bottom and a moment later my bottom burst with the shock of the first spank. However, it wasn't the brush that landed. It was the palm of her right hand. Smack! I gasped and she said, "there we are," Smack, "you've been a naughty boy and I'm going to spank you with my hand just like I did when you were a naughty little boy." Smack!

I probably got 10 or 12 good hand spanks, with the last ones being more SMACK than just Smack. Not much perhaps but they hurt.

She stopped and said, "time for the brush now, Tommy. I'm sorry, this is going to hurt. You know that don't you?" I managed to say, "yes" and she said, "Alright then .... here we go!" The splat of the brush on my bottom was far worse than I remembered. I don't think she spanked any harder. I'd just forgotten. My right arm flew back as if to protect my bottom but she grabbed my wrist, as she always had, pinned it to my back saying, "we'll just get this out of the way then, shall we?" and SPLAT the brush landed again.

I don't know how many spanks she gave me. Lots. I do know after three or four I was bellowing with each, and soon crying and pleading enough. To no avail. When she finally finished I lay sobbing over her lap and she rubbed her right hand gently on my burning cheeks. Her left hand still held my right wrist pinned to my back. In a minute or two she said, "This part is nearly over Tommy .... "

Nearly over! What?

Right away I felt the palm of her right hand land a spank on my bottom. I don't think she hit it any harder than she had when she started the spanking but wow what a difference when my bottom was already burning. I immediately burst out with a yell and more sobbing, and she said, "This," SMACK, "is what you need," SMACK "and I expect you to learn your lesson or," SMACK "you'll be right back over my knee!"

I'm not sure how many spanks she gave me, maybe ten again, but soon it was over, I lay there over her lap like a wet blanket sobbing. As I started to compose myself she guided me off her lap. I didn't stand up. Just sank to my knees beside her, my head on her lap, sobbing turning to blubbering and then just noise of some sort. I calmed down as she rubbed the top of my head.

"I hope you learned your lesson Tommy. To be sure I'm going to give you the strap now."

"Oh no! No more. Please no more. That's enough. No strap. Please, no strap."

"I'm sorry, Tommy, I really am but I told you you'd be getting the strap and I am going to strap you now. Just like grandma strapped me when I was your age. So, I need you to stand up."

Shakily I got to my feet. I noticed my pants and underwear were no longer around my ankles. I must have kicked them off. Mom stood up, and opening the second drawer of the dresser took out the strap. I started to protest, beg again but she said, "Tommy, I told you you were going to get the strap. I'm going to strap you now. I expect you to take it at least as well as I did when I was your age. Now, go over and lie face down on the bed over the pillow."

It was two, three steps but it felt like a mile. Taking my left arm she guided me down onto the bed, face down, over a big designer sort of a pillow. "A little further up, Tommy. I want your bottom right up on the pillow."

I struggled into place. Frighted of the strap but also I realized at some level excited by the prospect.

"That's good. Now reach up with both your hands and grip the top of the bed. You're to keep your hands there, gripping. Do you understand? Good. Now put your feet a little apart. That's it. Very nice. Now, look over your shoulder. That's it. You see the strap? Yes? I'm going to bring it up like this, and then it will come down on your bottom. I'm going to give you just six this time if you hold still for them. You'll get eight if you move too much. I don't expect you to not move but you mustn't try to get out of the way of the next. Understood? Alright ...."

I saw the strap raise up. Mom stopped looking at me. Her gaze went to my bottom, the target, and then the strap came down. I bucked. I shrieked. She said firmly, "hold onto the top of the bed. Tight." and then I got the next. Sadly I did some avoidance and I got the eight.

When it was over I was a mess. Mom sat back on her chair quietly and gave me time to recover. When I could I sat up on the side of the bed but my bottom hurt so much I stood up. "Well, Tommy, you've had your spanking. Do you think you'll learn from it the way Ted has?" I said I did. She said, "I hope so. No doubt as long as you're at home we'll have to come back here for spankings but if you learn from them it won't have to be often."

She stood up and said she'd leave me to think about what had happened. She still had the strap which she handed to me saying, "Here, think about this and remember that was just eight and not hard ones. When you're ready to come out, put it away. If you'd like to stay in your room, that's fine."