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Please post comments relevant to the Handprints site.
Your childhood discipline memories are welcome.
Please DON'T post PHOTOS of juvenile spankings, LINKS to sites with such photos, or descriptions of spankings you gave your real life children.

2:00pm 01-29-2023 Slenihan1997: Homepage url
https://www.deviantart.com/slenihan1997/art/Caillou-gets-spanked-947210849; I just wrote my first fanfiction spanking I hope you guys read it.

https://www.deviantart.com/slenihan1997/art/Caillou-gets-spanked-947210849

1:14pm 01-28-2023 stripey7: Homepage url
http://stripey7.blogspot.com; The poem posted by anon is interesting, but one part strikes me as odd.

I'll bet she said down in her heart
'When I am big, by gee
I'll spank MY daughter just as hard
As Daddy's spanking me'

This is counterintuitive. I remember, after at least one of my spankings, resolving that I was totally opposed to spanking and would never do it to my own children. The opposite sort of reaction, as described above, makes no sense to me.

I should add that I don't think my mother was motivated by any bile or viciousness, and such episodes would probably not have ended with me being angry if she'd given me some aftercare instead of just standing me up and going to do something else.

1:06pm 01-28-2023 stripey7: You'll Be a Whole Lot Better
(sung to the tune of "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better"

Oh, the reason why
Child, I can say
You're going over my knee
And right away
After what you did
I can't let it go on
And I think you'll be a whole lot better
When your butt's been warmed

Baby, for a long time
I thought we were agreed
My word you would mind
And that's the way it should be
But now we both know
That you were puttin' me on
But I think you'll be a whole lot better
When your butt's been warmed
When your butt's been warmed

Now I'm gonna say
Things won't be like before
And you're not gonna play
Your cute games any more
After what you did
I won't let it go on
And I bet you'll be a whole lot better
Once your butt's been warmed
Once your butt's been warmed
Once your butt's been warmed
Once your butt's been warmed

Yeah, your butt's getting warmed

8:09pm 01-22-2023 HandPrince: Homepage url
http://thehandprints.com; Might one of our artists wish to take a stab at creating a fifth panel to this comic strip?

12:21pm 01-21-2023 anon: John Thomas spanked his little girl
The spanks were due, I guess
Because the child said 'No!' alas
When her proper speech was 'Yes'

She needed it, there is no doubt
I favor spanks at times
To make sure early laxity
Won't lead to later crimes

Dad use to spank and so did Ma
And look how well I did
I never yet have been in jail
And shan't be, Lord forbid

But though I feel that spanking's right
In keeping with the laws
There are a type of spanks, take note
That have too many flaws

For instance when John Thomas spanked
That little girl today
Her face grew semi-purplish-red
Then turned to leaden gray

Her voice grew harsh as twenty rasps
And loud as steamboat calls
Her anger shook the furniture
And rattled on the walls

The child had terror in her heart
The maddest terror there
As she was laid reverse side up
Her little bottom bare

I know that child felt Dad was cruel
She thought Dad took delight
In spanking two bottom cheeks
She rued her wretched plight

I'll bet she said down in her heart
'When I am big, by gee
I'll spank MY daughter just as hard
As Daddy's spanking me'

The way to spank is not with bile
And not in viscious style
Such spankings make the spankee worse
More angry all the while

Such spankings cannot but defeat
Their purpose I am sure
They function like an irritant
And never as a cure

12:05pm 01-21-2023 anon: Jane's itching for a spanking
I know the signs too well
For every inch I give her
That munchkin takes an ell

I don't believe in spankings
I'd spare her if I could
And yet the imp confessed to me
"I think they do me good"

She reaches heights of devilry
She disobeys with mirth
And a good old-fashioned spanking
Seems to bring her down to Earth

She stuck her tongue out, watching me
With such a hopeful grin
She's itching for a spanking
So I might as well give in

5:52am 01-18-2023 3d-figuremaker: Neele - or - from the life of a cooking spoon
Fg spank
A first short story from Neele's life that shouldn't be taken very seriously - from the point of view of
a wooden spoon.
I've been at home with the Sanders for about five years now. A proud age for a wooden spoon like
me. It literally broke some of my brothers in two!
By the way, I'm a big, wooden cooking spoon. But unlike most of my peers, I've never seen the
inside of a pot!
Now you might be thinking, "No, what a boring life this must be!"
But no, you are completely wrong!
I have a much nicer, more exciting job than stirring tomato sauce or the like in any saucepan!
I remember as if it were yesterday, when I was in the household goods department of the
department store where I was hanging on a shelf in a blister (that's sales packaging, usually made of
cardboard, where I was welded on) when Mrs. Sander with her then only five-year-old daughter
showed up.
When Mrs. Sander saw me, she happily exclaimed: "Neele, look at him, he's perfect!"
I was very flattered at the time. You don't often get such compliments as a wooden spoon... Neele
probably didn't think I was great, today I understand that of course... "No, please not Mom!", Neele
said very sheepishly, almost in a whisper and with big eyes, when she saw me!
Luckily for me, Mrs. Sander ignored her objection and took me with her. So to speak, she bought
me.
Since then, I've had a place of honor in the Sanders family's apartment. Here in the hall where I'm
hanging, I get everything that's going on here.
But don't think that I'm just a decoration. That would be a bit silly. No! Maybe I should start by
saying that Neele can be very cheeky and naughty. I am happy to support Mrs. Sander in raising her
beloved daughter. As I said, this has been the case for five years.
If Neele screwed up again or was too cheeky and Mrs. Sander threatens me, then I'm already
tingling with anticipation.
It's always a shame when Mrs. Sander uses her hand. But the concert that emerges is always top
notch. The loud, merciless slap of her hand on Neele's little plump cheek. And then with increasing
frequency these "Ouch-ouch" calls until at some point Neele just cries!
A real feast for the ears. Even if I only hear it here from the hallway when Mrs. Sander spanks little
Neele's bare ass in her children's room.
So there is nothing that compares to being there live. Just yesterday it was that time again. The
Sander family came back from visiting friends.
I could already hear Mrs. and Mr. Sander scolding their daughter in the stairwell.
As soon as she and her daughter were in the apartment and closed the apartment door behind them,
Mrs. Sander strictly instructed her daughter to go into the children's room and "get ready" and she
could "get ready for something" right away.
Shortly thereafter, Mrs. Sander grabbed me from the hook and we both went into the children's
room.
Neele lay crying on her bed, buried her head in the pillow and cried what tears her eyes yielded.
Downstairs she was already completely free, as ordered by her strict mother.
What a sight. I'm always overwhelmed, even if it's nothing new for me now. These small and yet
plump female children's cheeks are simply sweet.
Mrs. Sander then scolded her daughter properly. As far as I can tell, Neele must have started quite a
catfight with the son of the hosts, behaving very disrespectfully and ignoring any reminders.
After the verbal rebuke, Ms. Sander finally sat down on the bed and patted her thighs with her free
hand.
Neele lifted her head with tears in her eyes and looked anxiously at her mother.
"Please mum, please don't" I'll never do something like that again! Please, please, please!!!" begged
the little one.
"My dear Miss, you really should have thought about that earlier. It was up to you whether you had
to come to this, but it's too late for that now!"
And suddenly Neele lay across her lap faster than I could see. Mrs. Sander fixed her between her
legs in such a way that her daughter could not defend herself. And then it really started: "Clap, clap,
clap, clap...
In a brisk, even rhythm I slapped Neele's little child's bottom. This feeling is indescribable, if you
are not a wooden spoon, you can hardly imagine it.
It didn't last long and Neele was crying bitterly and so loudly that the neighbors were definitely
crying, unless they were hard of hearing or had turned on the television loudly
The redder their lovely cheeks got, the happier I was to get in touch with them again, with this
child's skin, which was now getting hotter and hotter.
"Please mom... please... I always want to be nice..." Neele sobbed between her mother's slaps with
me on her bare bum and her own crying.
But that impressed Mrs. Sander little. I relentlessly gave a damn about the little cheeks of the 10-
year-olds.
Only when her bottom was really bright red and Neele was only whimpering softly did she stop. I
proudly looked at my work. Yes, that was a good butt, Neele will have fun with it for some time to
come.
Afterwards I heard Mrs. Sander say to her daughter admonishingly: "So, I hope you remember
this?" Then she put me on the bed and started to comfort her sobbing daughter.
After that, Mrs. Sander got up to get an ointment from the bathroom and carefully rub a little of it
on the hot and at the same time bright red buttocks of her daughter, who had just been shattered.
I get really jealous most of the time watching it. How I would like to...
Well, I am and will remain a cooking spoon.
On the way back to the bathroom she put me back on my hook. Since then I've been hanging here
again and dreaming of my next assignment, but at the moment Neele is very sweet!
I guess I didn't miss my mark.

9:46pm 01-06-2023 Seamus: Spankart what system do you use to make your art I want to try

{HandPrince replies: He uses Stable Diffusion. Here's the link.
https://stablediffusionweb.com/

Here is Spankart's gallery on Pixiv.
https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/15473622/artworks

And here is a link to a tutorial of his based on how he has created spanking images with Stable Diffusion.
https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/103014409

Spankart writes: "I was asked how I produce my AI generated images with Stable Diffusion. So here I share the process in a kind of mini tutorial. Hope this gets other artists started. I'm still a learning novice myself with this amazing new technology and I'm sure there are better methods used by others and there will be even better methods coming. At the moment I'm experimenting with textual inversion to train embeddings that more easily produce spanking imagery. But this tutorial uses nothing but off-the-shelf Stable Diffusion and a freeware image editor (Gimp)."}

5:36am 01-03-2023 Gov: Bill, thanks so much for the comments! As it turns out, I'm looking for someone to do an illustration for Chapter 1. Anyone interested should contact me at [email protected].

2:28pm 01-02-2023 Bill: Very much enjoying Emiia's Education. Lucky neighbor to have stumbled into a situation with two young girls in need of discipline and their grandparents more than willing to allow him to help. Now it someone could add illustrations it would be perfect.

2:10pm 01-01-2023 Gov: Emilia’s Education

Author’s note: this is a work of fiction but is partially based on firsthand accounts as told to the author by acquaintances, and occasionally involves depictions of and references to corporal punishment of persons under the age of 18, either implied or stated outright. As corporal punishment of children remains a contentious and divisive topic (and in many jurisdictions is flat-out illegal), there is no intention to eroticize, condone, endorse or promote hitting children, but rather to allow the reader to explore the feelings this story generates.
-Gov, 2023

Chapter 1: The New Neighbour (Part 2)

Stepping off the train, Emilia spotted her Grandpa Bill right away, waving from the platform. She rolled her luggage towards him and was wrapped up in a firm hug when they met. Grandpa Bill was over six feet tall, and though into his seventies remained very strong due to his years working the farm. He took her luggage from her, and together they walked toward where he had parked his old Volvo.

“Where are Grandma and Lilly?”

“Well, when I left they were having themselves a little chat with our new neighbour, so I thought it would be best to give them some privacy.”

Something inside Emilia’s chest tightened. She was very familiar with what a “little chat” meant in her grandmother’s context. Lilly was now old enough that she would have been exposed to the full severity of Grandma Elizabeth’s discipline. As the children had grown in age and in size, the implements with which they were punished had become progressively more intense, until finally the cane had begun to be used when Emilia was thirteen. The cane’s bite was such that Emilia couldn’t help but clench before each stroke. Her grandmother explained that clenching was a sign that Emilia wasn’t fully accepting her discipline, and this always resulted in extra strokes.

The ride from the train station to the farm took thirty minutes. Grandpa Bill was quiet as usual, more focused on the road than on Emilia. After the requisite questions about how school was going and how her mother was doing, Bill left Emilia to her own thoughts. Emilia’s mind was swirling with images of what she would find when she got to the farm, and what the next four months of living there would be like. She could feel her breaths starting to come in ever more shallow, rapid gasps.

Eventually the Volvo tuned off the main road and pulled into the familiar lane leading up to the family farm’s main house. Though not large, it was a sturdy structure made of stone nearly a hundred years before. Bill parked, popped the trunk to get the luggage, and with Emilia walked towards the front door. As always, the front door was unlocked, and Emilia took off her shoes inside, and walked through the foyer and into the kitchen. There she found her grandmother, holding court with her hands on her hips and a stern gaze. She turned only slightly to give Emilia a faint head nod welcome.

The colour drained from Emilia’s face when she saw her sister, kneeling in front of the fireplace with her feet in the air, sniffling quietly. The source of her suffering was not difficult to ascertain as Emilia saw the thick, ruby red welts across Lilly’s behind, evidence of a long session with the belt. Further confirmation came from the third person in the room, a man whom Emilia had never seen before. He looked to be about forty years old, slightly shorter than Emilia’s grandfather, but broader in the shoulders. He had a thick jet-black beard and a full head of hair. In his right hand was the belt which Emilia knew so well. He turned towards Emilia, and gave her a cruel, sardonic smile.

Grandma Elizabeth broke the silence. “Welcome back, Emmie. You’re just in time for me to introduce you to our new neighbour. His name is Michael.”

***

“He’s awful!” Lilly shrieked later that morning, as the two girls were speaking alone in the room they shared. “It’s been about three months now that he’s been in charge of administering my punishments. He moved into the house down the road after his mother passed away and left it to him. Being good neighbours, we invited him over a few times for dinner. One night the talk turned to how to bring up children, and Michael mentioned how he felt kids today didn’t understand proper values. Grandma and Grandpa were starting to feel their age, and felt I wasn’t responding to their discipline the way I used to. When Grandma mentioned she believed in raising us with a firm hand, he lit up! She asked him right there if he would mind helping her and Grandpa out with a little problem. She even insisted on ‘paying’ him with some of the farm’s fresh fruits and vegetables!

“The very next day, he happened to be over when I got into an argument with Grandma over cleaning the dishes. I suppose I said some things I shouldn’t have, and suddenly Michael had grabbed me by the neck, right there in the kitchen, bent me over the table, and started smacking my bum hard with the wooden spoon. My jeans were still on, but after five smacks on each cheek, Grandma stopped him, and told me to take down my jeans and panties. I protested of course, as he was pretty much a stranger, but Grandma told me if I didn’t, he would start again at the beginning. I was so embarrassed! I lowered my jeans and panties and bent back over the table. I got another ten smacks on each cheek. When he put me on my knees after my punishment, I swear I saw a smile cross his face!”

This news was very disconcerting to Emilia. At the breakfast which followed her awkward return home, Grandma Elizabeth and Grandpa Bill had been effusive about what a big help Michael had been around the house in the previous three months. Grandpa Bill had further made it clear that while Emilia was staying with them, university student or not, she would be subject to all the normal house rules and would be expected to behave in keeping with her grandparents’ code of conduct. She had further learned that Michael had free reign to discipline her as he saw fit and had the use of all the house implements to do so. Emilia sighed. She had never before been punished by anyone outside of her family, let alone been made to undress for such a person. The feelings of embarrassment were almost as strong as the anticipation of the pain. And yet, as before, something innate had both her mind and her pulse racing at the thought of Michael standing over her, implement in hand. One thing was for certain. Emilia was sure to discover a lot about herself this summer.

2:05pm 01-01-2023 Gov: Emilia’s Education

Author’s note: this is a work of fiction but is partially based on firsthand accounts as told to the author by acquaintances, and occasionally involves depictions of and references to corporal punishment of persons under the age of 18, either implied or stated outright. As corporal punishment of children remains a contentious and divisive topic (and in many jurisdictions is flat-out illegal), there is no intention to eroticize, condone, endorse or promote hitting children, but rather to allow the reader to explore the feelings this story generates.
-Gov, 2023

Chapter 1: The New Neighbour (Part 1)

WHOOOOOSH! Emilia opened her eyes as the blast of fresh country air hit her nostrils, the train door having opened unexpectedly. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light and realized that she had been sleeping for nearly eight hours. She had boarded the train the previous night in the city and was journeying to her summer destination with mixed feelings.

Emilia had just completed her first year at university. It had been a rough adjustment, and even though Emilia was normally a good student, the liberal academic environment had left her feeling disoriented. This disequilibrium had unfortunately translated into a lower academic performance than was expected of her. Emilia was now at risk of losing the partial entrance scholarship she had earned, and needed to bring her grades up next term to retain it. Her mother, with whom she was living in the city, had been upset when she realized her eldest daughter had nearly squandered the money she had saved to send her to school. University tuition was very expensive, and she was unable to shoulder the financial cost without the scholarship. A busy career woman herself, Emilia’s mother had reacted predictably, with the only solution she knew.

“You’ll return to your grandparents until school restarts in the fall. Something isn’t coming together for you, and I just don’t have the tools to fix the issue. Grandma and Grandpa will know what to do.”

Emilia’s grandparents lived on a farm in a rural area, further to the north of the country. Emilia had spent much of her youth living with them, and her younger sister Lilly was still there, in the midst of secondary school. Their mother worked in the city, labouring at her job to support the whole family, and up until her sixteenth birthday Emilia had lived with her only occasionally.

It was this comment regarding what “tools” her grandparents had to “fix this issue” that was causing the mixed feelings in the pit of Emilia’s stomach. Grandma Elizabeth and Grandpa Bill were old fashioned folks, with a strong work ethic and believers in strict discipline. While very loving people, they were unconcerned with society’s progressive attitudes toward coddling children, and in their remote corner of the country, were able to raise their granddaughters as they pleased.

Emilia, being the elder of the two girls, had been the first to be introduced to her grandparents’ particular version of comeuppance. At age seven, in a heated argument with her grandmother over finishing her dinner, Emilia had told Grandma Elizabeth where she could put her green beans. Emilia had been surprised to immediately find herself thrust across her grandmother’s lap. She felt her pants and underpants yanked down around her ankles. Her grandmother had mumbled something about having allowed her to get away with too much already, and had begun what was to become her first of many spankings.

Turned upside down and facing the floor, Emilia could still remember the cadence and ever-increasing intensity of that spanking, and how she wriggled and tried to escape. Her grandmother was much too strong for her, though, and was having none of it. The more she squirmed and cried, the longer the spanking seemed to go on. Finally, after Grandma Elizabeth was winded from her exertions, she stopped, allowed Emilia to stand up, and guided her over to the nearest wall in the kitchen. There, her bum bright red, she was made to kneel tearfully facing the wall with her feet in the air for fifteen minutes, in what came to be known in the family as the ‘reflecting position.’ Emilia never complained about green beans again.

***

After that inaugural spanking, not a week went by without Emilia (and eventually Lilly) being bared for punishment for some infraction. The most common sins in Grandma Elizabeth and Grandpa Bill’s house were having a bad attitude (talking back was a sure path to trouble), fighting with each other, and breaking house rules. Discipline would occur in whichever room the girls had been found misbehaving. When the girls were younger, punishments occurred across someone’s lap, but as the girls grew in size, they were bent over a table or a chair, placed on all fours, or for the most significant infractions, made to kneel on a stool with their hands placed on the floor. There was no appeal for these summary punishments, and they were carried out with immediate and ruthless efficiency. They always resulted in tears on the part of Emilia and Lilly, and worst, with no exceptions, they were always administered on the girls’ bare behinds.

Emilia’s grandmother being a practical person, she had soon realized that her spankings would be more meaningful if she introduced some implements into the picture. She had developed a continuum of household objects, some ordinary, some purpose-built for punishment, which had been brought to bear sequentially over the years as Emilia had gotten older. When Emilia closed her eyes, she could picture each implement where it lived in her grandparents’ house:

the hairbrush, in the drawer in the night table next to her bed;

the belt, hanging on the inside of her grandfather’s closet door;

the birch, hanging in plain view in the kitchen next to the stove, made freshly every few weeks of twigs from the silver birch tree in her grandparents’ field;

the bath brush, hanging in the shower;

the wooden spoon, in her grandmother’s drawer of cooking utensils;

and finally, the cane, the most feared of all the implements, laying down high on the shelf in her grandmother’s closet.

Brought back to reality after the memory, Emilia shuddered, thinking about what lay in store for her when she returned to her grandparents’ home. And yet, her mixed feelings remained. She knew she needed discipline, guidance that her mother was unable to provide. Yet there was something more visceral in her ambivalence about what to expect. As she had matured into her teen years, she had noted a familiar feeling in her body every time she had been punished, and soon this feeling came even when she thought about being spanked. She remembered when she had discovered, by accident, that one of her friends from school was disciplined in the same manner she was. She had always been very embarrassed about her punishments, going to great lengths to keep the knowledge of them from her contemporaries. When she had happened upon her friend Eva being birched in her backyard one day after school, Emilia had lingered, hidden, to watch the event unfold. The sight of the action had quickened Emilia’s pulse, and she had suddenly felt ashamed. She had run home and told nobody. But ever since that time, her and Eva had shared an unspoken bond, and this excited Emilia. Her feelings on the matter were…complicated.

6:15pm 12-28-2022 HandPrince: Homepage url
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10:25am 12-26-2022 Helmut Gerber: Like in the little spanking-poem Ella sent we can imagine that instruments made for punishing little girls and boys themselves enjoy to cause pain. "Smack - Smack!" kisses the belt the cheek of the crying child and can`t get enough of it. And in the cellar-room, where the completely undressed seven year old little girl receives her punishment, the cane is dancing with her giving her his awfully burning kisses on her but, her legs her arms, her whole naked body, making her howl and begging no longer to be beaten. But her mother unmercifully beates her. "Once more! And once more!!!" And afterwards the little naked girl has to climb limp up the stairs to the third floor, and all neighbours watch the punished child an hear it howl.
In my childhood all that was normal. I would like to hear from others of their experiences in former times or even of actual events. I myself was fascinated to watch other children beeing punished. And while my mother did not beat me, I did it myself as painful as possible.

1:14am 12-24-2022 Ella: This rhyme is from a paddle which also featured a little drawing of a scolding mother and a crying red bottomed little daughter with heat lines radiating from her bare cheeks:

"Lay the offender on her tum
Then smack her hard across her bum
She will cry and she'll implore
Not to be given any more
But this is what you bought me for
So make that bottom red and sore"

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