My Auntie spanked my butt today!

Well, sort of.

We were visiting in her backyard when I saw, and pounced on, an opportunity to get her riled up. I let my sassy mouth get ahead of me, and cursed at my aunty in her own house. The ultimate disrespect. Her biggest pet peeve. I'd never dared it before, assuming, rightfully, that even in my 30s I wouldn't be safe from the consequences. I was never sure I wanted that kind of smoke, but today I just NEEDED a beating.

And she took the bait. Her face was an immediate stormcloud, contorted with rage, and her chair sk**ded out from behind her as she stood up to confront me.

I was readying myself for the inevitable crack across the mouth, but instead she opted for something much better.

She stomped over to the apple tree and plucked a branch off. Skinny, not too long but with a row of hellish looking burls that she didn't bother to strip off while hastily relieving it of its few leaves.

She grabbed the hem of my dress with one hand, yanked my undies down to my ankles with the other, then took up her switch.

'Hold still' she warned me, as she raised the switch high in the air above her shoulder then let it fly.

A series of 'thwipthwipthwips' was accompanied by the sudden burst of sizzling hot flesh on my backside. It was like someone was touching a hot wire to my skin, but only for a second, before pulling it away. Over and over again.

If it weren't for this damn drought I have no doubt she'd have worn me out. Swollen, nasty welts up and down my thighs and buttcheeks, with plenty wrapping around my hips. You know those slipups that leave a tiny purple knot on your sides that gets itchy after a few days? Like aunty always used to give me for a smarth mouth. Mind you, this is the woman who once gave me a fat lip with a WOODEN SPOON for telling her 'yeah' instead of 'yes ma'am' at breakfast before church. Mercy is not in this woman's vocabulary. I was bracing myself for a hell of a whipping.

And then I felt the switch snap and go limp.

It was bone dry, like everything else this summer, and nothing breaks faster than a broken, dried out switch.

My aunty looked at it, tossed it to the side, then told me to 'get out of her sight'. I scampered off, still relatively unspanked, pouting over my misfortune. I grabbed a picture of my rear end when I got home, but the small handful of red marks she'd managed to paint onto my behind were already fading. I rubbed one out, imagining I'd gotten a real, proper switching instead, but my butt wasn't even stinging enough to get me there. I had to pinch my little nipples with with the spring clamps to finish.

Life is so unfair sometimes ?