Dad's woodshed. Clearly he's been there before, but now he's waiting.....jeans at his ankles, briefs up and bent over waiting for There was this one day I had to go to the bathroom, but then a couple of my friends were jump-roping and asked me to join in. Apparently, I was so excited to jump rope that I completely forgot I had to go to the bathroom. While one of my friends was jump roping, she messed up and fell. I started laughing my head off...until I started to feel wet. When it was time to leave, my friend whispered in my ear, "Amanda, not to embarrass you or anything, but you are wet....in the 'bottom' area of your jeans..." At once I felt my face turn into a tomato, I ran to the bathroom to find a huge wet spot on my butt! As embarrassing as that is, I had to go the rest of the day with a big spot on my jeans. Fast-forward a couple of days to Grand Rapids, and the birthday spanking actually theme came to life, much to my astonishment, but not with me as its subject – yet! Another cousin of mine, Charlotte, had turned 20 and there was quite a party. Late on in the proceedings, to much raucous delight, it was announced that it was time for her birthday spanking! The next day, I felt very sheepish – what had happened there last night, I wondered? However, everyone else was normal and cheerful. Leanne hugged and patted me, and Charlotte told me how much she liked my ‘cute little English bottom’. Aunt Peggy laughed and agreed. “He’s got a bottom made for spanking. It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it!”

After a while, Kate called to the three of us: “OK, kids, time to head home let’s go!” Denise and I ran over to her promptly, but Kristie was having too much fun on the monkey bars and was not ready to leave. Her Mom told her a second time that it was time to go. Kristie replied in a sassy tone: “No, Mommy! I’m staying here!” That was the first of many jokey and some serious spankings I experienced over the next few years in Michigan. They included one administered at church, after my now 18-year-old self and Kirsten, Leanne’s 17-year-old adopted daughter, got caught with cigarettes and alcohol. In Michigan, as in most states, it was illegal to drink alcohol under the age of 21. In the middle of winter someone started a small fire during my gym class. We stood outside in the wind and the cold in our gym uniforms. Of course, the drill lasted about 20 times longer than usual, because we had to wait for the fire department to declare the "all-clear." Meanwhile, we're freezing our butts off. I was spending time flirting with my crush who's in my gym class. Finally we went inside. In English class, I was complaining to a guy friend of mine about how cold it was, and my crush was supporting me. But my friend said that he wasn't cold. I was annoyed, because he was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. I yelled, "Yeah, well, at least you were wearing clothes!" A bunch of people turned to look at me. I slapped my hands over my mouth and turned red. My guy friend laughed, "What were you two doing out there? On what planet is it not completely creepy for adults in positions of authority to come over to a home and watch children being hit by their parents? This sounds like something out of a dystopian young adult novel, not regular police proceedings. A 12-year-old girl shouldn’t be spanked on her butt by her father in the first place, let alone in front of another man. Talk about causing a warped sense of what authority figures should be allowed to do to your body.

(*****, M/f, Edgy, Semi-cons abuse, edgy)

Even after witnessing this event, I still felt no arousal about spanking. However, a few weeks later I had what can only be described as an awakening. Polly was away for the weekend with an old university friend, and Simon and I were at home alone. There was more patting and squeezing of my bottom cheeks, like they were kneading bread, and lots of cat-calls, mostly from the women. Charlotte, by contrast, had got a lot of male attention.

A daughter recollects on her father's abusive punishments. (Approximately 4,428 words. Originally published 1999-09.) These stories show disciplinary actions, some written from afather's perspective. When I posted this writing on alt.sex.spanking,one reader bristled, assuming (incorrectly) that an actual father wasdescribing actual actions carried out. This is fantasy. When the spanking was over, Kate told Kristie to sit on the picnic table bench until she stopped crying. She also informed the girl that she would have some time standing in the corner when we got home.

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Peggy and Donald told me that they’d spanked all their kids growing up, and that they’d all turned out fine. They were amazed that my parents didn’t spank me, and surprised that we didn’t have to take our trousers down for the cane at school. In the Grand Rapids Bible Belt, it was pants down for a spanking, whether at home or at school.

Perhaps because she was much older, perhaps because of her ‘donation’ (I realised later that Leanne had basically ‘bought’ me), I allowed myself to be undressed and soon I was playfully put across her knee, my bare bottom in the air.He had far less procedure than mom. No corner time before and very rarely after. Most times, he’d go get the strap then have you drop your pants and grab your knees right in the kitchen. As my sister and I got older, he afforded us a bit more modesty and would take us downstairs to the basement rec room or sometimes in warmer weather, out to the detached garage.

I was relieved that Charlotte had kept her leggings on, scant protection though they were, but as if she read my mind, Peggy added: “Pants down birthday spankings for the boys always, but not the girls. That wouldn’t be proper.” I was amazed. I had been spanked by my parents and my aunt before, but those spankings were always done in private. I had never seen or imagined a grown-up giving a child an over-the-knee spanking in a public setting like that. Although there was no-one else using the playground at the time, I’m sure that people driving by on the road must have noticed. 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. Moments later, he returned with my little brother in one hand and the strap in the other. “I have to go help fix this window you broke,” he said to my brother. “And we are going to have to pay the insurance deductible on this. Well, we’re going to figure out how you are going to repay us for that, but meantime I’m going to take some of it out of your butt. Drop your pants.” On the first day of my visit, we all hit it off great. Kate was very nice to me, and Denise and Kristie were a lot of fun to play with. Moreover, I thought Kate very pretty, and developed a crush on her almost immediately.I even began to think about naughty things I might do to provoke her into spanking my bottom. The problem with the plan, of course, was that my father was there. If I was going to get a spanking for anything, he would almost certainly be the one to give it to me. Of course, I consider the fact that my wife and daughter are evenallowed to wear clothing around the house a privilege that can bewithdrawn at any time. At times they are punished by only beingallowed to wear underwear which has to stay down around their ankles.Some people seem to think I'm too strict, but say what you will, thisroutine seems to be effective. My daughter and wife are bothextremely well behaved. I've encouraged other parents to try similartechniques. At times I find that single isolated spankings are notnearly as effective as say a hard spanking every night at 6 pm for aweek, with one hour display periods before each spanking. Somethinglike that can be very effective in getting a point across. My arms were raised above my head, and I felt someone unzipping my jeans and tugging them down. More whoops and cheers. I had warm woollen winter ‘long johns’ on underneath, which at least were less revealing than normal pants. Then I found myself being dragged across Aunt Peggy’s lap. People were holding my hands and feet, and my nose was near the floor. I could see only shoes, mostly women’s high heels! I was very conscious that my bottom was up in the air, and though I had the long woollen pants on, I felt very exposed, vulnerable and compromised.