Hello, Trouble here. I wracked my brain for subject matter appropriate for my first post in the sin zone, only to find inspiration from a fellow hardcore sinner when I woke up this morning. Like the Acidman, I was an abused child. He mentions willow switches, but my mother would never have settled for a willow tree. They break too easily. She was more a fan of the crab apple trees in our back yard, or failing that, a sweet gum or pin oak branch would work as well. Pin oaks have a tendency towards pokiness, though. Sometimes, she'd make us go pick out our own switch. If it wasn't strong enough, and broke, then she'd go get an item of her choice and use that instead.

I was a slow learner, and got a whipping many more times than just once, with whatever she could get her hands on: switch, belt, spatula or wooden spoon...if nothing was within easy reach, we'd just get the flat of her hand. She was fast, too. She could lash out faster than you'd even imagine with her palm and catch us slippin'.

If we were really bad or "lippy," she's slap us right across the face. She once left a purple handprint on my cheek when I said a swear word and she caught me pretty fast across the face with a blow that was much harder than she expected. I think she felt kind of bad about it when she saw the results of her handiwork, but it didn't stop her from delivering future physical rebuffs. I was a chronically lippy, sarcastic child who always wanted the last word in any discussion. Bet that surprises you, doesn't it?

The last time she tried to spank me, I was 23, a college graduate who had just spent 6 months house/farm-sitting for my parents while they traveled all over the U.S. I lipped off to her about something, and she chased me around the house, trying to rain blows down on me, but failing to hit me. Finally, she grabbed ahold of me, and I held onto her hand so she couldn't land a blow on me, and told her she had to cut that mess out. We were both red-faced, breathing hard, and pretty darn peeved.

Apparently, Acid was a quicker man than me...he only needed to get the switch once. I figure I got spanked a whole lot more than that: at least once a month during my little kid years and a few times during my adolescent and teenage years, as well. I had a hard head and a wide independent streak. One of my first sentences as a toddler was: "I wanna do it myself."

I spanked my kids when they were much, much smaller. It put the fear of god (aka: the mommy) into them, and I haven't needed to spank either of them very often for years. I did threaten to spank Squirrel last weekend, though, because he was just acting like a rebellious turd who threw a temper tantrum over everything he was asked to do. Just the threat was enough to get him in line, mainly because I think he remembers the last one, and he's fully aware of my willingness to deliver future whippings. I don't use objects, for some reason I have it in my head that using a switch or belt is illegal these days, though I've been assured, by no less person that his school counselor, that a spanking delivered on his little butt with the flat of my palm is still legal and perhaps even approved by the authorities.

It seems to me that boys are slower learners than girls are when it comes to spankings. My brother got about three times as many whippings as I did, and my son isn't much different from that.

So, who needs a spanking? And, do you spank?