I'm an adult who still gets spankings
I grew up in an old-fashion and strict household and being an only daughter my parents were super protective. All us kids were punished harshly, but fairly, until we neared our tweens. At that point my father said that young men wouldn't get spanked because it would make them sissies but I still had to get spankings for any infractions to learn my place and make sure I didn't turn into a **.
Spankings for me were always a family affair. The intent was to learn a lesson, endure the physical spanking and also the embarrassment of it. I had to bend over my father's knee and my mother would stand by. The spanking was preceded by a lecture and announcement of what I'd done. It was then announced what kind of spanking I'd endure.
If it was a small infraction I'd get a few spanks over clothes, then the rest over **. If I wiggled too much or tried to cover my ** my mother would be enlisted to hold my arms. Whatever family members were at home were always called to watch. Not only my brothers but my grandfather, uncles, aunts or cousins too.
The boys spankings went on in privacy once they turned ten and when they turned 12 they stopped completely with the boys receiving some kind of labor-related punishment or loss of allowance or privileges.
I was expected to confess to bad behavior. If my parents found out on their own, the spankings would be far worse which meant bare bottom and paddling as well.
When I went off to college the spankings stopped until I came home for a break and my father would grill me about grades, partying, how I was dressing, spending money and when I admitted to all my failings, my father would ask me what he should do about it and I would have to tell him I deserved a spanking and immediately pull down my pants and ** and bend over his knee.
During my college years I never knew how many swats I'd get because he'd talk all the way through and each additional infraction would get additional or more severe swats. Followed by bare bottom corner time.
When I started dating my father said he'd never give his blessing to a marriage unless the boy believed in spankings which meant I'd have to talk to the boy about it if I ever hoped it would get serious. So I've pretty much never been in a serious relationship.
As my father's health was getting worse, he turned over the spankings to my brothers. He would supervise and tell them what kind of spanking I'd earned.
This may sound weird but I think it's really helped me be a better person. I know some people think spankings are wrong but I think it makes me make good choices because I understand the consequences.
The only time it may have been close to abusive was when my mother would have to punish me because she'd get really angry whereas my father always stayed calm. Like I didn't tell my mother when I got my period and she gave me a lecture about womanhood and started checking my ** for blood and keeping a calendar of my periods.
She also got angry when I didn't tell her I started needing to wear a bra. When she noticed my chest was developing little bumps she yelled at me and did what she called tittie twisters and accused me of not wanting to wear bras so boys could see my **. Then she started keeping measurements until she could trust me to let her know when I needed bigger sizes so I would get tittie twisters when they grew and I didn't tell her.
Needless to say my father always had last word and would decide if I needed bras or not but I still got a spanking for disobeying my mother.
Things have changed a little since my father became bedridden because my oldest brother became the main disciplinarian and he's not nearly as strict as our father was so I do not get so many spankings anymore and if my mother doles out the punishment she's much more harsh and just lashes out without the ceremony of it all.
I wish my father was still healthy.
He sits in his easy chair wearing only a black T-shirt. I am kneeling in front of him completely **. He just ordered me to ** his toes. I was shocked & said No!
He stands without a word & leaves the room. He returns with a slim rattan cane. The slimmer the cane, the sharper the sting. He orders me to kneel with my head down and my ** up.
“You will receive ten strokes. You will count each one out loud.” One! Crack! The first one took my breath away. Two! Crack! The second stroke brought tears to my eyes. By the time we got to ten, tears were streaming down my cheeks & snot was hanging from my nose. He handed me a tissue.
My sister and I always got spanked. Once she called her English teacher the B word, she got detention every night. Monday through Friday. That also meant a spanking every night at home. Real ** burners too. Friday her teacher was invited over to witness. I thought she would die when her ** came down.
Your father shoulda shoved ginger up your ** or fingered your ** with Icy Hot and then whipped you hard with his belt. You wouldnt've become the ** ** you are now if he'd been stricter with your ** **.
Billie Jean is not my lover