This narrative is absolutely true. I’ve posted it on other spanking sites. I’ve been asked how many licks did you get. Your guess is as good as mine. You can imagine when your buns are being baked, your mind is on other things other than mathematical analysis but I would guess twenty maybe more maybe less. It was definitely the worst spanking I ever got!
I was the last of five children (4 girls and one boy who was right in the middle.) My parents are loving, caring people who did everything for their children. Dad was a very successful businessman so money was never tight. We had way more than most kids but we weren't spoiled. Our parents were always there for everything we did but they ran the house not the other way around, as is the case in so many homes today. They both believe that the best way to keep children out of trouble was to keep them busy. They gave us every opportunity like dancing, gymnastics, tennis, golf, etc. As for me, my passion was golf. (I don't think daddy ever missed one of my high school golf matches and attended many during my college years, although I was hundreds of miles away from Dallas.) But if we misbehaved, sassed, or in any way embarrassed our family, we could expect a trip to the woodshed really the rec room where the only recreation was an old-fashion razor strap firmly and skillfully applied to our butts. No child was ever punished in front of the other unless they were being corrected together. The whole household knew, of course, if one of us was getting or had gotten it. News spread fast of a chastisement. Although I was a pretty good girl -- good student, active in school, church, and community -- I found myself in the rec room more times than I care to remember, however, my closest sister chronologically, who was just two years older than me caught it twice as much as me.
The worst strapping I ever got resulted ironically from a golf match. I was playing in the Texas state championship. You know it doesn't rain much in Texas but it had rained that day and the officials don’t know how to handle it as they do in the other parts of the country. My ball was just off the green lying in some casual water. I asked an official for relief which he denied. There was a bitter exchange of words in which yours truly questioned the ancestry of the official -- that's the most delicate way to put it. Little did I know the official was the banker who lent Daddy the money to start his drug chain and close Shriner buddy. I lost my cool, my competitive edge, and went from contender to pretender. There was no way I should have let the ruling affect me that way. When I walked off eighteen and took one look at Daddy's face no one had to tell me I was in for it. I knew that look only to well and it always meant a trip to the rec room. We rode home without a word. It was the longest ride of my life! When we arrived home Daddy marched me straight to the rec room where he lectured me then sent me for the razor strap. A task I always found deeply humiliating. When I got back with the strap, he bent me over the pool table, which was the position of my youthful discipline, he pulled my skirt needlessly high up my back leaving me bare except for pants which were part of the golf skirt and thin panties which offered little if any protection and beat my young, nearly sixteen year old, Texas behind until I howling like a scalded dog. How that strap stung and burned that day and how I howled. When he finally finished it felt as if my butt had been barbequed Texas-style and the chief hadn’t spared the Tabasco sauce. I tell you I got it! And I got it big time!!!
And now for the rest of the story as Paul Harvey would say. I was playing in the Championship a few years later. I was on the ninth green and asked an official for relief from casual water that I felt impeded my putt. He denied me. Again the official was wrong but this time I reacted quite differently, I calmly took out a pitching wedge -- much to the horror of the club members -- and chipped it over the water and into the cup for a birdie. It fired up my teammates and me. We went on to win. I tell you there was one proud man in attendance that day! My coach still tells his players about how Diane turned a bad ruling into a positive as an example of heart. I, of course, know the real story as to how spanking works or worked in my case. Hope you appreciate the story. I know I'll never forget the incident!