Just finished wiping tears from my eyes after reading " Growing Up Spanko ". This tale perfectly describes major portions of my early years. EVERY spanko ends up searching the dictionary for certain words relating to our interest, but I thought that I was the only one to peruse 1950's parenting manuals in the library looking for "how to" instructions. With my parents being teachers in Canada, my correction at home was always applied via a rubber school strap to the palms of my hands, a procedure, at the time, completely devoid of any deviant interest .Most of my friends were spanked, and it was spoken of openly. I was the odd girl out with the school-style punishment. My closest friend's kitchen wall featured a souvenir paddle that was frequently used on her and her siblings. I recall staring longingly at it,' hoping to witness its use, or somehow have it used on me Alas, no luck. Like your heroine, I self spanked frequently - the bristle side of the hairbrush ensuring sufficient pain with minimal sound, a practise that I have engaged in throughout my life in various vanilla relationships and a failed marriage. Now in my 60's, i think melancholy thoughts of what could have been had the right man ( or even woman) come along. Your tale tore me apart emotionally. in its accuracy. Well done !