| Subject: Re: Intro |
Author:
Missi
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Date Posted: 05:42:42 09/21/23 Thu
In reply to:
Missi
's message, "Intro" on 07:25:40 09/18/23 Mon
Me and my sisters used to get spanked all the time for as long as I can remember. Growing up, we would get punished by Mom or Dad for anything we did wrong. Always bare bottom if not completely naked. When it was spanking time, there was no such thing as modesty and anything that could be used for spanking was. Hand, hair brushes, belts, flyswatters, wooden spoons, etc. Dad even made a spanking paddle with holes in it that covered both cheeks in a single swat. In later years when we were really bad, you could expect to be sent outside to cut a switch. As we grew up, these spankings started to become less frequent, however longer and more severe. But regardless of our behavior, every week we would get a spanking on Wednesday nights before bed and Sunday afternoons after church.
Wednesday night spankings were not that drawn out. After we said our prayers, while still kneeling beside the bed, Mom or Dad would lift our nighties up over our head, pull them off and we would be spanked by hand until we were crying and our bottoms were rosy pink. If we had been naughty the pervious days, then we would get a dozen or so licks with the belt where the hand spanking normally would have ended. We had been taught early on to stay still and kneeling until they said we could get up and into bed.
Sundays after church was a lot more involved and could last anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes. Dad would call us into his study one by one to have what he called a “Weekly Seeing to.” He would sit in his chair and when called in, we would have to stand in front of him and be still while he undressed us, handing our clothes to mom as they came off. Once we were naked, Dad would start his talk. Mom would some times participate, but mostly she would sit there nodding quietly. We would discuss what we learned in church that day, how our behavior was the previous week, how our grades and school work were, etc. If we had been spanked for punishment that week, we would talk about each of those too. We would then decide on the spanking we should get. And by decide, I mean Mom or Dad would tell us what we were going to get and we had to agree that it was appropriate. Sometimes they would ask us what we felt was appropriate and had to prescribe our own spankings. We learned really quick not to suggest anything less than what we knew Mom and Dad would think was deserved.
If it was a good week, we could expect 5 to 10 minutes of hand spanking followed by a dose of the hair brush, the wooden spoon, or the fly swatter. If it was a bad week, we could expect a long session with dad’s belt, the spanking paddle, or any combination of all of the above. Sometimes we would be sent outside to cut a switch for an old fashioned switching. Those felt like they lasted an eternity.
We wouldn’t leave the study on Sundays until we had stopped crying, had cuddled with both Mom and Dad, and told them we understood that they spanked us because they loved us and wanted us to grow up to be good people. It was these nurturing times I came to crave.
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