My First (as An Adult) Spanking From DadThose of you who have read my other story know that I moved back in with my parents, and under their strict rules. I've had a hard time adjusting to curfews and the kind of self-discipline they expect. For instance, I can't just miss a day of school, I'm expected to be there any time I am scheduled unless my parents approve of the absence.
Since around the holidays, I've really been pushing my luck. Mom spanked me with her hairbrush for coming in a little tipsy, and I knew the next punishment would be from my dad and would be much worse. But I wasn't thinking about that earlier this month when I decided to miss a particularly boring class and enjoy the empty house instead. My mom was gone all day and Dad was supposed to be at work...except he had an appointment and came home. To find me on the couch.
I jumped up, knowing I was in big trouble, and he came right over to me, bent me over one arm, and began to spank my bottom. Then he yanked down my pajama pants and panties and continued to spank me, hard, with his hand. My dad's hands are pretty rough and calloused, and I imagine a hand spanking from him is not that different than getting spanked with sandpaper! On top of that, when he's mad, he spanks hard. It was such a hard hand spanking, I dared to think it might be the only punishment. I danced around a bit and ended up with my pajamas and panties in a puddle at my feet.
Dad stood me up and ordered me to go get the hairbrush. He told me I might as well just step out of my pajamas and panties, since I wasn't going to be needing them for awhile. Then he said, "I should have whipped you with my belt weeks ago!" and I shuddered, knowing that he was going to hairbrush AND belt my bottom! I went to my parents' room and got the hairbrush off of Mom's dresser, trying not to look at myself in the mirror -- I already looked disheveled, with tears all over my face, and my bottom was red. I wanted to stay in my parents' room forever, but I knew I had to return quickly with the hairbrush and take the rest of my punishment.
I went back to the living room and handed Dad the brush. He lectured me a bit, but I wasn't listening much. I could only think of what was coming, and was trying to gauge his tone so I could tell how bad it was going to be. I knew it was going to be bad. Then he bent me over again and spanked my bottom and thighs with the hairbrush. He was saying things about how I wouldn't be able to sit around the house for a long time and that I should make good use of standing up by helping more in the kitchen and with other chores. I was agreeing with everything, just wanting the spanking to end. When he stood me up, I danced around a little, trying to ease the burning in my backside. I hadn't done that since I was a kid, and I felt like a kid as I jumped around the living room, rubbing my bottom.
Dad told me to stand still, because we weren't done. He was unbuckling his belt. Anyone who has ever been whipped with a belt dreads that sound. I'm ashamed to admit that I begged him not to use his belt. His response was that he should have taken his belt to my bare bottom weeks ago. I don't even want to think about what I looked like, crying and sniveling and begging him, "Please not the belt, Dad, I'll do anything, just please don't use the belt!" I wasn't even thinking about being naked from the waist down, although later I blushed at what I must have looked like.
Dad said he wished he didn't have to, but that he was going to whip me with his belt. He told me to bend over the back of the couch. I continued to beg him not to use the belt, and this earned me a few smacks from his hand until finally, I bent over the back of the couch. I tried to hold still, but getting the belt on top of the hairbrush was more than I could take and I jumped up a few times, only to be spanked with his hand and put back over the couch. It was truly the worst punishment of my life, and it made me realize how important it is to follow my parents' rules because I never want it to happen again.
When it was all over, I was wailing -- my thighs and bottom were throbbing so much I had to wear a skirt. Dad made me get dressed and took me to school. We live walking distance from the university, but I think he wanted to be sure I went, as if I would risk disobeying after that! We drove to school in silence, with me feeling really embarrassed because of everything that had just happened, and because I felt like everyone at school would know why I was walking funny. We didn't talk about what had happened until I came home that night. Mom and Dad explained that they expect a lot from me now, and that I can't just throw away my opportunities. Needless to say, I have not missed a single class since and I've kept perfect grades!