By Lillian K. (April 1952)

I am a forty-year-old woman with two daughters. My husband travels a lot with his job and that leaves me somewhat bored and frustrated.

My next-door neighbor, Dora, is a widow with a twelve-year-old boy, Edward. He is a big boy for his age. He has a nice plump bottom that fills out the seat of his jeans nicely. I have often heard him get a long, hard spanking in the past year. Our houses are only a few feet apart with very thin walls.

Today I saw him coming home walking slowly without his safety patrol badge. I quickly stationed myself near a kitchen window. Soon I heard Dora's loud voice, "Get the paddle." I have been in her house numerous times and know exactly what she means: a large red paddle is kept atop the refrigerator. Then I heard the order, "Get your behind ready."

I suddenly decide that I have to see this. Dumping my sugar in another dish, I rushed out my back door and into Dora's kitchen without knocking. I find her seated in a chair with the red paddle in her hand. Edward had just dropped his jeans and stood there in his shorts.

I stop with the empty sugar bowl in my hands. "It looks like I have interrupted some needed discipline. I'll come back later."

As I had hoped, Dora said "No need to leave, Lillian. Have a seat. This should not take long." I did not need to be asked twice!

"Please don't take my pants down in front of Mrs. K," Edward begged.

"You would not feel a thing through those thick jeans but I will let you keep your shorts on if you'll behave."

Soon Edward was across Dora's lap with his jeans down around his ankles and his plump bottom in the air. WHACK, SLAP, SMACK! The paddle landed hard and fast on the seat of his thin shorts. He was getting it good but I had so hoped to see him spanked bare.

He tried not to cry, but soon all the licks began to fall on exactly the same spot. His hand shot back to cover up. Dora stopped. "For that your shorts are coming down."

"No. Oh, no!" He grasped the top of his shorts with both hands.

Dora turned to me and said "Lillian, please pull his hands loose and hold them." I was thrilled to do so. Dora soon worked his shorts off a very red bottom. I held his wrists securely as the spanks rained down on his tender bare bottom. He bucked and kicked over his mother's lap. Tears ran down his face in streams. His yells hurt my ears. It was a constant struggle to keep him from rolling off her lap onto the floor. His bottom was as red as a beet when we finally stopped.

We could hear Edward sobbing in his room as we later sat and enjoyed our coffee.

"Thank you so much for helping hold him, Lillian. He is such a big boy that I have a hard time controlling him during a long, hard spanking. Would you be willing to help in the future?"