This excerpt is from Modern Spanking by Will Henry, which was first published in 1966.

A marital spanking 1960s style

“I have had many years of experience with spanking both as spanker and spankee. I received spankings at home from my father until I was in my twenties, and my husband took up where he left off. I can still expect a spanking or two a week. I also spank my two daughters, who are now 20 and 18. In addition, I’ve both given and taken paddlings in connection with club initiation stunts. While others may disagree with me, I feel that spanking adds a certain spice to life. It’s intimate and more than a little sexy, but it’s also a very effective form of discipline. I know that I, for one, do not regret any of the experiences I have had, and I am looking forward to more in the future.

“When my husband is at home, I am expected to wear a pretty dress of combination sweater and skirt, nylon hose, high heels and pretty un-dies Girdles are forbidden as house wear. I have always worked to keep my figure trim, so I have no objection to dressing this way. The dresses and skirts I wear around the house these days are hemmed to end three-four inches above my knees, which is considerably shorter than I would wear publicly or even if we were expecting guests. The girls kid me quite a bit but I am used to that.

“When my husband decides that I am to be spanked, I am called into his study and the door is closed. Our daughters never witness my spankings, although they may be present in the house when one is administered. The study is far from soundproof and they can easily hear what is going on even with the door closed. They of course have known for a long time that I get spanked, and think nothing of it although they can rarely resist kidding me a little after a session.

“As many times as I have reported to the study for discipline, I still bite my lip and feel weak in the knees. As soon as I have closed the door behind me, I am required to grasp the hem of my skirt or dress and gather it up around my waist both in front and back. I must then walk over to my husband, who is seated on a leather couch. Despite the privacy and my many previous experiences, I still blush furiously and feel thoroughly ashamed as I walk to him with my panties and long stockinged legs on view. I might mention that my husband has adopted the same practice my father used to employ on me, even when I was a big girl in my twenties.

“As I stand in front of him facing him directly, he begins working my panties down off my hips. I still go absolutely scarlet when he completely exposes me this way, and having to hold my own skirts up so that he can see everything makes it twice as embarrassing. He is never in a hurry at this point, and always pauses for a good eyeful while I stand there crimson with shame and feeling completely ridiculous. It’s almost something of a relief when he finally turns me down over his lap, and I feel his forearm clamp down firmly on the small of my back.

“The discipline starts with a hand spanking, followed by the hairbrush. The hand spanking begins slowly and lightly, and is often accompanied by a scolding to make me feel juvenile. He knows how to raise the temperature in my bottom very slowly and evenly: It isn’t long before I am beginning to feel very warm and tingly. In spite of all the experience I have had, I still feel completely childish and deeply embarrassed at having a masculine hand applied to my upturned and completely bare buttocks. The hand spanking continues until my bottom is rosy, and I am blinking back tears and squirming considerably.

“After this warming up, the hair brushing commences. With the very first spank of the brush, I have to howl and squirm furiously. He applies it briskly and usually alternates from one cheek to the other. As that brush raises the temperature in my bottom very rapidly, the tears come and I find myself crying and carrying on just as I did as a teenager years ago. My husband never stops a spanking until the sight of my thoroughly reddened bottom convinces him that he has gotten his point across.

“Following one of those hairbrush workouts, my bottom is afire. My husband long ago adopted my father’s old rule prohibiting me from rubbing my posterior afterward. I have to stand in the corner, using my hands to keep my skirts up and leaving my panties down so that everything is showing. Standing there while my fire red bottom gradually cools off can be quite a trial, and there are times when I am just simply dying to rub myself back there. My husband usually makes me stand there from ten to fifteen minutes, which is sufficient time to get my tears under control. He then replaces my panties for me, and we kiss and make up.

This book is currently available from Lulu Books.