My last childhood trip over the maternal knee occurred when I was 16. I thought of myself as a mature man & recall telling myself that I should resist physically as well as verbally, but I couldn't. As much as I feared & hated the idea of being upended & bare bottom spanked, she was my mother after all_ the woman who I knew loved me above all else, the woman I knew would give her life for me without a thought, the woman who had brought me into the world, the woman who I had always turned to for comfort, understanding, & support.

I really did believe mother knew best, & so, despite my assumed maturity, I let her drag me to the traditional spanking place, the kitchen. I whined & pleaded all the way, which was allowable & natural resistance to my way of thinking, & blushed & promised to never cut school again if she let me off. I had made this promise before, but never in the face of a spanking! I really, really meant this time, I assured my mother, not realizing that I sounded more like 6 than 16. Mother cared not a whit about my psychological & physical quandary as she pulled me along. As always, to make her even consider a spanking, I had pushed her beyond the point of compromise.

I was never spanked for a first offense, no matter how major a transgression it was. Instead, I was reasoned with patiently, but always left with the certain threat that if I didn't accept the verbal rebuke & learn from it, a more resounding, red-cheeked rebuke would be utilized the next time I repeated the offense. Or, as was more realistic, caught repeating it. Such was the case that day during my 16th year. I had actually gotten away with cutting school several times since I was first caught, primarily because it was fairly easy to do & I really didn't think mother would carry out her threat to spank me at my advanced age. Being a teenager, I thought I was smarter than any adult on the planet, including mother, & pretty much invincible.

I found out just how wrong I was on both counts. When I was caught & mother was informed, she proved I was neither too old nor invincible with her hard, firm hand. My 16 year-old butt was still quite soft, sensitive, & no match for it at all. In less than one minute, the urgent need to kick & wail out my torment overtook all thoughts of mature pride. In less than 2, I was bawling as frantically as I ever had during a spanking, age be damned! I couldn't sit down without feeling the effects of that spanking for 4 days. And I never cut school again.

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I went away to college for 4 years, & then lived with a succession of roommates in shared quarters in San Francisco until I was 23. I couldn't afford the rent alone and, to make a long story short, I couldn't afford it at all after I was laid off. Never anticipating anything so negative as being unemployed, I hadn't saved a cent & eventually had no choice but to move back home. It's an odd experience as any kid who has endured it will tell you, especially when you have a mother like mine who thinks of her son as her "little boy."

It was an adjustment, but not a very big one... at first. It was actually nice to have homecooked meals waiting for me when I got home from the succession of part time jobs I managed to land, And it was quite convenient to have someone to clean my room & do my wash again.

Mother seemed happy to take care of me, but as the months passed, her patience started to grow a little thin. I was home more often than not since I hadn't been able to find a job I thought suited me. And, in truth, I really did not do very much to help around the house. Also, I'd picked up some habits as a single bachelor that I'd never gotten away with at home before & saw no reason to change them... Until THAT fateful day!

In fairness, I must say that mother followed her usual pattern & warned me several times before losing patience, but I didn't pay her any mind. I was my own man at 24, I thought, & totally oblivious to the fact that any childhood rules or penalties might still apply although I was once again living in my mother's house & being supported by her.

In fact, I actually snickered (to myself) the time before last when she had scolded me for leaving the kitchen a mess & implied that she might just use tried & true methods if there was a next time. I could never forget what those methods were, of course. But I simply thought mother's were funny & forgot it. Well...

I was not laughing at all less than a week later when mother lost patience, burst into the den, & marched me back to the kitchen by the ear. The dialogue at the beginning of this letter is close enough to what was said, & since my reaction was identical to that which I've already described as a 16 year-old, I don't think I need to repeat it.

I'll simply summarize it by saying that being scolded & bare bottom spanked over the knee of the woman that gave you birth is a decidedly unpleasant experience at any age!

Mother laid down the law as I hopped around the kitchen & rubbed my roasted rump that night, & it was as simple & intimidating as it had ever been: as long as I was under her roof, I would follow HER rules or be bare bottom spanked as soundly & surely as I had been throughout my youth & been rudely reacquainted with just again.

Naturally, I whimpered over that prospect.  But, just as naturally, I didn't argue when she declared, "No excuses!" & raised a warning eyebrow about what would happen if I choose to "discuss" it further.   I didn't & was sent to the bathroom to tend my tenderized tush.  Then I was sent to my room & told to clean it up for inspection later, which I made sure I passed!

Mother was pleased with my spanking-new attitude & gave me great big hug.  That meant all was forgiven & everything was right with the world again. As I always did, I ate it up & melted into the arms of the woman I loved, trusted & needed above all others.  I know it was those tender moments of absolute adoration that I & most men like me cherish above all & truly seek to relive, even though we tend to spend more time on the spanking act & action.

In any case, mother was as true to her word as always from that unforgettable moment on & kept a tight rein on my mischief.  I lived at home for over 3 years &, of course, was bare bottom spanked over her knee again. Many times, in fact.  But I'll leave the details for my for my next letter to your excellent magazine.

An Anonymous, Grateful California Fan

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From our calculations, you were close to 28 when you finally flew the nest... Not the oldest NEVER too old to be spanked son we've encountered, but a big WOW nonetheless!  It's always a distinct pleasure to hear from sons of spanking mothers, especially you rare, lucky few who really, really know what it feels like to be, "scolded & bare bottom spanked over the knee of the woman that gave you birth," AND the "tender moments of absolute adoration" afterward, as you so aptly put it.  That unbelievable bonding experience is what it's all about, after all!  Thanks for telling us about yours & please do tell us more!

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