Spanking paddle hanging on the wall.

I had a school friend, Tyke, whose father has a old time coupe or hot rod. I wish that I knew what kind of a car it was. In that, it looked like something that came out of a movie. The engine was not covered and shone like it was brand new. Her dad only drove it in parades and to car shows. Anytime there were boys at Tyke's house, they wanted to see the car. The first time that I saw the car, I was in junior high. I noticed a paddle just like the ones used in my grade school hanging on the wall with the tools. When I was in high school I was again in Tyke's spacious three stall garage and the paddle was hanging in the same place. I never got the chance to ask Tyke about it for there were always boys present and I didn't want to embarrass her.

Recall once visiting a principal's house. He had a regulation 'Old Hickory' school paddle leaning against the backsplash on a kitchen counter. It looked like it was well used!

The wooden spoon was clearly visible in the kitchen among my mom's collection of cooking utensils. Other people may not have known that the spoon was used for more than stirring pasta, but my sisters and I knew it was also used for spankings. Sometimes bare butt spankings.

There were two spanking paddles in my childhood.

The first paddle was used from age 10. It was originally a paddleball paddle that my brother got some time earlier as a birthday gift. After the rubber and the ball broke off, my father repurposed it as a parenting tool. It was not one of those flimsy paddleball paddles, but a thicker solid one, and it packed a good wallop and stung and hurt beyond belief on a 10-11 yr. old's bare bottom. The first spanking I got with it was quite a shock and an eye-opener about what a spanking can truly be, and I remember this spanking vividly till this day like it was yesterday. There are also other reasons why I remember it, but the first-ever feel of the paddle on my bare bottom and the effect it produced was certainly one of the reasons.

The paddleball paddle was in use for about a year, however when I was 11 it was replaced with a "proper" spanking paddle. Why and how this happened is a separate story, which I won't delve into here. The new "proper" spanking paddle was homemade and was inherited by dad from one of his older cousins whose kids were grown up by then. They were doing a house cleanup and handed it over to dad saying "our kids are grown up now, but you are going to need it to raise yours".

The new paddle was not all that much larger than the paddleball paddle, best I can remember it (and my memories of it are very vivid) about 13", and just about the same thickness as the old paddleball paddle, I think 3/8" or perhaps a tad less, but it hurt even worse than the paddleball paddle, and certainly had more scare factor in it. Each spank with it covered most of the bottom and was imparting a breathtaking sting. Even though it was fairly thin, but it was made of solid wood and stung like crazy. It did not bruise of anything, just set my and my brother's bottoms totally on fire and made them red and sore, but THE STING! The sting was atrocious, and as dad kept laying on spank after a spank, I felt like I was simply about to jump out of my skin.

The new paddle also had a very graphical picture on it, of a boy being spanked bare bottom over a parental knee, with the boy crying hard, his bottom red and heat lines coming off it, and it also had embarrassing writings next to the picture. By its look and rubs in the paint the paddle looked fairly old, not decades old but easily 20 years old or so, and was obviously well-used on other kids' bottoms, probably more than one generation of kids, and now it was my and my brothers turn to be paddled with it.

Age 11-13 was my most spanked childhood years, especially 12-13, and the paddle saw a lot of use. I learned many tearful lessons over my dad's knee with that paddle, so it is a very memorable thing.

Other than the difference in size and increased spanking pain and sting the new paddle produced, there was another big difference between the paddles.

The old paddleball paddle looked nondescript. Nobody who did not know its true purpose and use in our house would not guess it was a spanking paddle. It looked just like a common toy paddle, just with the ball gone. Thus when my friends were around at our house, there was not too much of a risk of it being identified as a spanking paddle and cause an embarrassment. Of course, someone might wonder what a paddleball paddle with the ball gone was doing on top of the fridge, but still there was some distance from wondering about it to making a certain conclusion, so having the paddle somewhere in the house when my friends were around did not cause too much concern for me. Even if someone were to be too smart and make conclusions, I could always deny them, or in the absolutely worst case admit it was a spanking paddle, which would be bad, but not super-bad.

With the new "proper" paddle it was very different, because it had a picture and writings on it that not only clearly identified its purpose, but also were super-embarrassing. With that paddle in the house, I was totally mortified that my friends or other visitors (including my brother's friends) may see it. I thought I would die if any of my friends saw this paddle, and then of course other guys would learn about it too, and there would be no end to teasing. Not to mention the news of such a colorful item could well spread across the school, and may be even get to girls too, and I may become a target of unending mockery. I felt totally mortified.

My two best and closest friends knew about the paddle and saw it, because I trusted them and they also knew about my spankings just as I knew about theirs, especially my best friend. I trusted they would not tell anyone else. But I was totally mortified by a danger of anyone else seeing the paddle.

My brother and I took great efforts for the paddle to stay out of sight.

The paddle had a drawstring attached to its handle and its usual resting place in between its use was a wall closet in the hallway, where it was hanging on a nail behind the clothes.

I always took great care to make sure it was pushed well behind the clothes in the back, to reduce the danger of any of my friends seeing it.

On occasions when the paddle was to be used, sometimes my dad fetched it from the closet, and other times I was sent to fetch it myself for my own spanking. It was quite nerve-wracking having to go and fetch the paddle from the closet and carry it to dad. I remember well these walks of dread and shame being sent to fetch the paddle and then carrying it back to dad, for my own punishment.

The paddle was in use in our house until I was late 13, when one day Dad was spanking my brother, and the paddle chipped, apparently from all the stress it sustained over the years paddling kids bottoms. My dad used to say that "a boy's bottom does not break from a spanking" and "no boy's bottom ever broke from a good spanking". Ironically, perhaps no boy's bottom ever broke from a spanking, but boys bottoms did break the paddle. I guess every device has its MTBF (except may be boys' bottoms, according to my dad), and the stress of the spankings goes both ways.

Instead of replacing the paddle, Dad went to using the belt from that day on.

But more on the subject... Most of the time the paddle hung in the closet. However if I was starting to get in hot water meaning multiple incidents of small misbehavior started to accumulate, or my school effort started to slack, but still short of warranting a spanking yet, my dad sometimes used to hang the paddle in my room as a warning. He put a small nail in the wall in my room (actually my and my brother's room, we two shared the room), and would hang the paddle on this nail, on the drawstring.

Later in the childhood, after the belt was introduced when I was late 13, it was the same with the belt too. Dad would hang the belt on the nail. It hung by the buckle and stretched down the wall its full length. It could be hanging like this in my room anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks. The belt was in my view almost all the time I was at home and was a continuous and very vivid reminder of a spanking I was verging on and would get if I did not straighten up. The belt on the wall had this very menacing look, almost like a rattlesnake.

Most times I straightened up and the belt was taken off the wall and moved back to the closet in the hallway, its usual resting place.

On occasions however I crossed the line and was then sentenced to a spanking. On these occasions I was sent to my room and after some time Dad would come, lecture me again and I was ordered to take the belt off the wall and hand it to Dad for my whipping. Then it was pants down and over the bed and I would have my bare behind belted good, but one part that stands out for me was having to watch the belt "waiting" for me all this time, and also having to take the belt off the nail and hand it to Dad for my own spanking.

Earlier, age 11-13 (before belt), it was very same with the paddle too.

If I had visitors such as friends or my brother's friends, it was OK to take the paddle or belt off the nail temporarily and hide them, until the visitors were gone. But once the visitors were gone, the belt or paddle had to be placed back on the nail in my room, or I would get in trouble with Dad, and since I was already in hot waters and on a warning, defying Dad and his expectations, especially in any direct way, would be a _very_ bad idea.

The paddle was kept out of sight at our house when growing up. I think it added to the dread whenever it was brought out when I was about to be spanked. Sometimes it was brought out but not used so the "not knowing" was part of the punishment I think. It may have been used depending on my attitude and how sorry I was for getting in trouble even though I never got into serious trouble (except in my mother's eyes).

Never seen a hanging implement in my colleagues houses. But I heard this had happened in 1960-70. My stepmom's parents (a Czech-Polish couple) were very strict. In her home there were two hanging belts: one on the girls room door, and the second on the boys room door. If there was a belt missing, it meant: stay out, spanking in progress!

Warm welcome to Zity Blanka. Right forum, right time, right universe.

Growing up in late 1940's and and early 1950's when spankings were very common - so much so that adults could spank a kid who was not theirs... I never saw any spanking implements hanging in friends homes... seemed the implements were all what was readily available - mom's wooden hair bush, a shower brush, dad's belt taken off his pants...

A friend of mine's dad hung a belt on the back of his bedroom door. A nail was put in the door and the belt hung there. I felt sorry for him because when he got up in the morning that was the first thing he would see every day. Also, when friends were over the house it was on display for everyone to see. I actually saw his dad use it on him a couple of times.

Here is one I did for a business in the waiting room.

https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=imgbnkzz;ox=itmdownload;img=59291;s=gallery;image

No belt, strap or paddle in our house and I NEVER smacked any of my boys. No need..

When young, I was spanked with a belt. A different era.

The belt was in the drawer in the kitchen, purely for spanking.

A slight off-topic, but what comes to mind is back in the 1950's seeing on two occasions a father walking outside with a folded belt hanging from his hand and calling for his his child.

The only "paddle" my Dad used on my bare behind was his hand.

In my house if/when only from my mother, ages 4,5 with her hand ,then at times she would use the "Wooden Spoon" and it was hung up in the Kitchen Outside of the Broom Closet .There for anyone and everyone to see when in our Kitchen . At approx. age 10/11 I recall a "Wooden Paddle" to the mix and she had my father drill a hole in the handle for a piece of string to hang from a Hook beside the "Wooden Spoon" . When I was around age 15 I recall they got placed and Hung inside the Broom Closet . My mother still used it on me at times ,(my father was in Sales and away alot) she believed in discipline very much ! Her Hand,Spoon,Paddle would be used depending on what I had done and what she decided was required !

The paddle in our house did not hand on the wall. My mother kept it in a drawer in her bedroom.

One summer, when I was an incoming sophomore in high school, and my new girlfriend was an incoming freshman, I stopped by her house one afternoon. She was at home alone because her mother had taken her younger brother to an appointment of some sort. Abigail let me into her house and we ended up in her bedroom, and I was trying to make some moves on her, when we heard the front door open and close, and we heard her mom talking with her brother! The appointment had been cancelled and they arrived home way ahead of schedule! Abigail was panic stricken, because she would receive a razor strop whipping from her father if it was discovered that I was alone with her in her house, let alone in her bedroom! So, she had me hide in her closet.

After a few minutes, her mom entered her bedroom to find Abigail doing her summer school homework. Her mom asked why the back door was unlocked, because she had locked it when she left for the appointment, and Abigail was to have remained inside doing homework until she returned. Abbi told her mom that she had unlocked the door to let the dog out and had forgotten to lock it when the dog came back inside. Her mom immediately said, "Prepare for a paddling, young lady! And, I want the truth when I return!"

After Abbi's mom left the bedroom, Abbi opened the closet door with tears in her eyes and whispered to me that I would have to stay quiet while she was punished. I asked how her mom could know that she was lying, but Abbi had no idea and closed the closet door. I heard quite a bit of shuffling and then there was silence. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, I worked up the courage to very quietly slide the closet door open just a half-inch and peek into the bedroom. I couldn't see most of the bedroom through only a half-inch opening, but I could see where Abbi was standing. She was standing, completely nude, with her hands behind her head (fingers interlaced) and her nose touching the wall. Because she was against a wall that was perpendicular to the closet, I had a perfect side view of her naked body, and I immediately was rock hard from staring at her curves (especially because of the perfect view of her perky/firm left breast with an erect nipple).

As I started to touch myself through my blue jeans, Abbi's mom walked into the bedroom and sat down on Abbi's desk chair. Abbi didn't move a muscle while her mom started lecturing her. Her first words were, "Abbi, you lied. Jonny and I were at Buster's veterinarian appointment. The dog was with me! Tell me the truth!" Abbi started crying and told her mother that she had gone out into the backyard to talk to me over the fence (we both lived on large lots and my parents' lot backed up to her parents' lot).

Abbi's mom said, "You're gonna get it from me right now, and your father will decide if you will have an appointment with him this evening. Fetch the hairbrush and bring it here." Abbi walked directly towards the closet, with her hands remaining behind her head. As she walked directly towards me, I had a perfect frontal view of Abbi's nude body, but I was terrified because I thought she was going to open the closet door. But, she reached out and fetched a spanking type hairbrush that was hanging on the wall just immediately to the left of the closet door. She brought the hairbrush to her mom, and was taken over her mom's lap. And, her bare bottom was punished severely and mercilessly for several minutes.

There's more to the story, but I will tell the rest of the story another time.

I have a wood paddle approximately 18” long with handle and holes hanging in my bedroom where I administer paddlings

@BottomFromTheTop:

You said there was more to the story. It’s been a year now. When do we get the rest of the story?

A carpet beater was hung on my grandma's wall, and though she often told me she intended to spank me with it, she never did. I guess she was teasing me, her hand spankings and hairbrushings hurt plenty! I know she got belt spankings as a child, so she was taking it easy on me.

@justin99 My bottom saw many a wooden spoon smackings from my mother and the neighbor who babysat me. I remember them starting out as taps, but as I got older the wooden spoon would quickly redden my cheeks!

Really I think that hanging an instrument specifically and unambiguously meant for corporal punishment in the open is quite a statement.

Really I think that hanging an instrument specifically and unambiguously meant for corporal punishment in the open is quite a statement.

It is quite a statement, and when I was growing up (1960s and 70s) it was a really common one! Two of my neighbors had straps hanging up in plain sight and it was very clear what they were for. The divorced mother down the street had a purple leather belt hanging in the kitchen right by the breakfast table, she'd already raised two grown boys but it was still in use on her middle school age daughter (who was my babysitter). The other family had a leather razor strop hanging in the bathroom. I guess it could have been for the dad's razor, but one of the kids told me that's what he used to punish them, “and afterwards you can't sit down for a week.”

In my home nothing was on the wall. But there was an umbrella stand with a whippy cane I got a few times on hand and bottom, there were wooden spoons and a paddle in the kitchen utility drawer, and of course there was always dad's belt available on a moments notice!

In our house my Dad kept the strap hanging in his closet, and when he had to use it on me I would have to go to the closet and bring it to him. There was one time when I was 16 and I was about to get it in front of a couple of my friends. My dad told one of them to bring him the strap.

NH here; most homes of friends and family had a spanking implement proudly hanging in a conspicuous place, usually a razor strop and sometimes a paddle; no second guessing what they were for and no need to be embarrassed if friends visited because spanking with either was very commonplace in those days and we all knew it and often heard or saw the paddle or the strop being put to good use. Somehow, in our home, my brothers and I missed out on all that, despite the fact that my dad had a strop which he kept in a basement workshop drawer. Have been yearning for a proper spanking since I was a kid and missed out on it. Go figure…

Never saw it or heard of it.

1959++ my next door neighbor buddy's Dad kept the “home paddle” on the kitchen sink countertop in the corner. Everytime you came in the backdoor you could see it resting there..handle side up…Had a +/- 3-½" wide--6" long oval shaped blade--and 3/8" thick. Dark brown wood. A perfect size/dimensions spanking paddle for a small bottomed 8--12 yr.old boy. My buddy had a occasional contrary behavioral/attitude bent. 5 to 8 (otk/bare bottom) smacks with it would have him in near angelic behavior for about a week….

Here is one in an eye glass repair shop waiting room! https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=imgbnkzz;ox=itmdownload;img=59291;s=gallery;image

I saw my next door neighbor get walked outside by his dad and have to bend over on the side of the house for a few swats. It was titillating watching him get the paddle.