Mija's Treehouse and a Memory

Anyone who has ever lurked or posted on SSS knows Mija and Pablo. And those who know Mija and Pablo, know their Treehouse. I love that place. Each time I get into the spanking mood for stories, I visit it. It's the only place that has quality spanking fiction, in my view.

I was just reading "Playin' House" and the story reminded me of myself when I was - maybe five? It was before kindergarten so I must have been younger than five and a half. My grandfather used to play a lot with me back then. I loved playing war scenes, and we were marching around the house and singing songs and I was hiding and shooting around and all that. I used a miniature wooden pool stick as a weapon and made phhhhphmmm sounds as my fire gun shot down the German soldiers. My grandfather had seen both world wars, and the army was a tough thing back then.

I also remember at some point asking him to spank me. His face was puzzled - I remember that. And he playfully swat my butt. And I recall telling him - "Not like that. Real spanking." And I got on his lap. Even funnier - I've never been spanked on anybody's lap, but I got the now and then swats for being too independant and savage. Maybe I saw the thing in a movie, maybe I heard stories of kids being spanked. In any case, I knew a spanking would happen with the child over the parent's lap. So I got in position, a bit thrilled, and my Grandpa playfully whacked my butt. But that wasn't enough for me even then. "Not like this," I said. "It doesn't hurt. I'll bring you something from the kitchen."

I went to my Gramma, in the kitchen and asked for an implement I can't remember. "What do you need it for?" - she asked me a bit puzzled. And then, for the first time in my life, I was ashamed to say I needed because I wanted my granfather to spank me with it for personal pleasure. So I lied. "We want to play with it," I said. And Granma gave it over.

I brought it back to Grandpa and then, maybe I got swats with it, maybe not. The scene eludes me now. The only thing I am left with now is my wonder. Was that my first step into becoming a spankee? And if so, was that what started it, out of curiosity. Was that excitement and shame and thrill related to what I would become?

So this is my first memory related to spanking.

I also have a picture of me, sleeping like a little angel, in a hotel at the seaside. I was around two. I don't remember, of course, but that summer I had plenty of happy pictures taken on the beach, in the water, playing, running, building sand castles, caring water in a red plastic bucket from the sea. I was a very pretty blond baby. So that picture was one of my favs. Until a few years ago, when I was looking through them with my Dad and I made a comment about how nice they were. And he pointed to the one with me sleeping peacefully. "You made a huge scene and cried that you didn't want to sleep. You were very tired. Here I spanked you with my shoe laces. It didn't hurt but you still cried and fell asleep instantly." Quite funny again, because my Dad very rarely slapped me and never spanked me.

The story of my life was of me making a scene about eating and napping, and then, after a few swats from my Grandma, I would sleep like an angel for three hours at least. That was always after she had told me stories for an hour and she had fallen asleep herself a few good times. After she had played with my hair until her hand went numb. And God help me, I had a reach vocabulary at those times.

Another strong memory was when I almost got the belt for being a brat again - bratting was on my everyday schedule. My Granma called me for lunch I suppose. I dreaded that because, being all day outside, I was eating all the fruits and veggies you could find in the garden, including onions. At lunch time, I was full. And I hated meat or chicken. I would chew it until it lost flavor, and then spit it out. I hated boiled veggies and my soup was always sieved. I ate it counting the spoons - always ten. Sometimes I stopped at five. So that day I refused to come. She called who knows how many times, until she decided to come and get me. We had a corn field, good for hiding, so I made my Grandma run after me in the corn field. She couldn't catch me. And then my Granpa came and tried to catch me. I dunno if they caught me or not or what happened, but my next memory switched to me being inside and me crying because Grandpa had never been so furios before and he had never taken his belt out to spank me. He dind't. But the feeling and the thrill remained with me forever. Yep. My grandfather never touched me. My grandmother did the job now and then, with me kicking her back for every slap I got. Being spanked was something that happened to other kids, but not to me. I was too proud to accept it.