My parents weren't horribly strict, but like most parents during the 60s and 70s they didn't hesitate to spank when they felt me or my brothers had it coming.
Most of the spankings we got were very mild, a swat or two on the seat of the pants. More serious misbehavior, however, meant more serious spankings. There where even times when it was more like seven, eight, or nine much harder swats. For really, really bad behavior, they'd pull our pants down so they could swat our bare backsides to make it sting more. This hardly ever happened though, and I doubt I got spanked that way more than three or four times.
One spanking I did get on my bare behind came about when my mother found me exploring a barely framed new house being built down the street.
I was about 8, and knew very well I wasn't allowed to be there, particularly in late evening when I was supposed to be sticking close to home. When my mother found me I knew instantly I was in huge trouble, and when we got home I was hardly surprised when she took me straight to her bedroom. As much as I hoped she wouldn't go that far, I kind of figured I was in for a pantsdowner to boot.
Usually when we were taken to their room for a spanking, it meant we were in for something extra. Well, I was right. After she sat on the edge of the bed and put me over her lap, she tugged my pants down before letting me have it. After a half dozen or so hard swats I was let up and sent crying to my room.
I'm sure this spanking stung more than most, but I think I remember this so well because it was so unusual for us to get it with our pants down.