Thinking back recently on the spanking experiences my brothers and I had growing up, particularly for Mike who was a year younger than me, I remembered that while I was the oldest in the bunch, Mike had been the first to encounter the new strop which had appeared in our home one summer while Mike and I were on a 2-week outing to visit our cousins at Uncle Ted’s farm just outside of town.
Mike was also eager to be the first to get a licking with the new strop.
Uncle Ted was dad’s older brother and he had a brood of his own (our cousins) who were kept in line with Uncle Ted’s razor strop. We’d seen the strop displayed for some time, hanging on the door jam which lead from the kitchen to the bedroom wing of the house. We learned at some point in our teens or early adulthood, that Uncle Ted’s strop had been “inherited” from grand-dad by Uncle Ted…and so…the same razor strop dad, Uncle Ted, and 3 other uncles, had received lickings with from grand-dad.
While dad had told Uncle Ted at the time we were dropped off for our visit that we were entirely subject to Uncle Ted’s house rules…and the same discipline as our cousins were…while we were there, Mike and I never encountered Uncle Ted’s strop during that visit. We did however hear, very loud and clear, what such an encounter would sound like if we did, as cousin Jake earned and got a close encounter with the strop a few days before we returned home. The cracking sounds of the strop on Jake’s butt…Uncle Ted stropped on the undershorts…or basically bare butt…along with the howling that accompanied every lick, created big-time impressions of the razor strop as a disciplinary tool on Mike and me…terror…and weirdly…a profound curiosity as to what a whipping with a strop would be like.