Daddy's Discipline: Part III: Wet Bottom Spanking

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After a spanking like that, I think you need to stand in the corner and think about why you were spanked.” Daddy said as he stood me up and led me to the corner. “Now you stay in this corner, hands at your sides, and think about what a bad bad baby you have been. And how you are going to be a good girl from now on.” Simon was around two and a half when he first felt my hand across his bottom. My wife Polly and I had agreed prior to his birth (with that characteristic naive optimism of first-time parents) that spanking was old-fashioned and unnecessary; in fact, frankly, we felt that it was cruel and barbaric.

I am the oldest of four, with a sister two years younger and brothers five and eight years younger. By the time the older of the two boys was born, Mom had stepped aside from her classroom teacher career and was a full-time stay-at-home mother. I would estimate that 90 per cent of our spankings at home came from her.

Mr Byers And His Boy - Don't Wake Mom

Daddy is giving his bad bad baby girl an enema.” As he said this I could feel the liquid flowing inside of me. I would get a few more spankings from Kate after she became my stepmother, but that first spanking from her holds a special place in my heart. My ass hurt so bad after and when he was done, he held me and laid me down and told me he loved me and rubbed my ass for a while after.

not as lame as it sounds) Language: English Words: 17,420 Chapters: 5/? Comments: 24 Kudos: 64 Bookmarks: 7 Hits: 2,885 Removal of privileges. For example, if your child keeps pushing people while playing, take the toy away for now and tell them why. I stood in the corner, tears still streaming down my face, my bum burning bright red as daddy lay down on the bed and turn the tv on, only he had it on mute, so I could hear him telling me what a baby I was, how only babys got food all over their faces, and cried when they got spanked. This just made me even more humiliated and the tears kept flowing.On occasion, though, Mom might feel an incident was serious enough that he needed to know about it too. An encounter with Dad was the nuclear option in our house, and on those times when Mom had informed him of some particularly egregious thing we had done, it was after she had already taken us across her knee for a dose of paddle or hairbrush to our bare bottoms. Now, we would be faced with his wrath as well as hers – and his wrath was definitely to be avoided. The following true story took place in the summer of 1984, when I was nine years old. My parents had divorced two years earlier. Since then, I had lived with my mom in New England, and had spent four weeks every summer with my dad at his home in Georgia. Now be a good girl and just relax for daddy. You want to show daddy that you want to be his good little baby girl don’t you?” Daddy asked me, again a bit of warning in his voice. Lets see if a good long spanking will make my baby behave like the good little girl she is!” Daddy said as his hand rained down on my bum, I could tell it must have been redder than my face, and I was squirming, but daddy was holding my legs down and there was no way I could stop him.

When Dad came in, Mom briefed him on the incident. You could see the colour come to his face – but, to his credit, he waited about 15 minutes before he sent my little brother up to their room to tell his sibling to come down ‘and tell him to bring the strap’. ok sorry about that other topic, i didn't realize when u post something here no one else cna see it.. ok below is my story...its ok if not good enough to post.. just figured i'd try) As daddy was saying this, he had secured one ankle to the bed, and had moved to the other one, making sure my legs were drawn apart, not to tight as to hurt, but far enough I could not bring them together.It seemed like it took daddy ages to diaper me, and the whole time I could feel the pressure mounting inside my tummy. He took an extra long time putting the lotion on me, making sure his fingers touched me everywhere that got me excited, knowing I was trying hard as I could not to have an accident. When he finished and taped up the diaper, daddy helped me to my knees and told me I was a bad baby, and this is what happened to bad babies. On the second day, things took an unexpected turn, while we were all at a neighbourhood playground. Kristie was playing on the jungle gym, while Denise and I took turns on the slide. Kate and Dad sat at a nearby picnic table, talking and watching us.

Dad’s old leather tool belt was one his own father had worn – and had used to discipline my father and his siblings. It was permanently creased over, firm but supple, and in his hands a truly fearsome implement. He never used it in anger, but it was clear when he did he was not happy with our actions and we definitely would feel the effects for a couple of days afterwards.

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The whole time I was drinking daddy was reminding me of what a big baby I was, drinking from a bottle, and getting my lunch all over me, just like a messy baby would. I didn’t think my face could get any redder.