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>>Were any of you lectured by your dad with your pants >>and underwear already pulled down? > > >Boy, howdy, I'll say I was! The worst, the absolute >worst, was when a bunch if us were getting it and we >all had to drop our underpants and then listen to the >lecture, after which we had to wait bare-ready for our >turn watching all the other kids getting their >spankings. We couldn't pull up our pants until >everyone had been spanked and all crying had stopped. > >On a more private note, my mom had a ritual when she >was particularly pissed. She would fetch the paddle, >pull out the spanking chair, plop down, call me to her >and have me stand in front of her. Then she'd slap >her left palm with the paddle held in her right hand, >and bark the order, "Alright, young man, pull those >pants down <i>NOW!</i>", as if it was an urgent >matter. It wasn't, but I new better than to dispute >it when my mom was already mad even if I thought that >a negotiation was a matter of civil discourse, because >doing so was contraindicated if I wanted to survive my >childhood. So I placated her by pulling my pants down >as fast as I could by unzipping my trousers then >grabbing them by the waistband, hooking my thumbs >under the elastic of my briefs and pulling both pants >and underpants down to my knees in one fell swoop. >Then I stood back up and listened to the lecture, >which she accented by marking the salient points out >by smacking her left palm with the paddle giving me a >preview of what was to come. When the lecture was >over she'd say, "Alright young man, I've finished >talking, now I'm going to start spanking." Then she'd >pat her lap with her left hand and say "Saddle up!" >I'd then have to bend over her lap and she'd tell me >"Stick your butt up. Higher. Higher. Then she'd put >the paddle in action. > >My dad had a different routine when he decided I >needed the strap. He's order me to my room to wait, >then he'd come in holding the strap where I could see >it. He'd sit on my bed and ask me, "You know what's >going to happen, don't you?" > >I had to answer, "Yes, dad, you're going to spank me." > >"That's right," he'd say. "Get yourself ready." That >meant I had to lower my pants and underpants and await >the lecture, which was usually short and to the point. > I knew why I was getting spanked. When the lecture >was over he'd stand up, point to my bed and say "You >know what to do." I then had to place a pillow in the >middle of the bed lay face down with my hips over the >pillow so my butt stuck up and bury my face in the >other pillow. "Ready?" He'd ask. I would nod my head >and the strap would set a forest fire on my bare >buttocks. > >Mr. Gower had a weird ritual. He was one of my >friends' dads. When he'd spank me he'd grab me by the >scruff of my neck, frog march me over to the side of >the livingroom couch, and have me face the couch. >Then he'd take off his belt and order me to pull down >my pants and underpants and bend over the arm of the >couch. I'd do that and wait with my bare butt >sticking up as a target. Then he's lecture me while I >was waiting for the spanking to start. Funny, he'd >never finish the lecture but start in with the belt >at some random point. Made the rest of the lecture >useless because my crying drowned out anything he said >after that. Mr. Gower didn't spank nearly as hard as >my mom and dad did. I think he didn't want to welt me >all that bad. > >The rest of the spanking lectures were, I think, all >delivered with my pants up. I only had to pull them >down when the actual spanking was to start.

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