I Discipline My Children
My Son Gets Paddled, First Time At Age 10...He Needed It... And Got It Bare-Bottom And Over My Knee!!
By:
samyork
Written on February 11th, 2013
David gets his first real paddling...
David got a good, bare-bottom and over–the-knee paddling at age 10.
The paddle was a gift-shop purchase and had some silly wording on it. One thing I knew: thin as it might be, and only 12-inches long by 3-inches wide, it could work magic when applied lovingly, carefully and correctly against a naughty-boys bare bottom.
David was a sweet kid. 97-percent of the time. God, he was bad, real bad when he went off the deep end with his behavior. I only had to give him a few formal, over-the-knee, bare-bottom, hand spankings when he was seven and eight. All enjoyed a great run of good behavior when his naughty and sometimes devil self woke up when he was ten. I had threatened the paddle for some time. Told the kid it would be painful and sting his tender rump something fierce. Yeah, yeah…wont happen he told me. Well, it did, and he needed it.
I moved the hotel chair away from the desk. I retrieved the paddle, picked him up, pulled down his bathing suit, sat down, and plunked my David over my knee. He was already squirming in protest and very conscious his spanking was moments away.
Okay, okay he cried, I wont do it again. I knew that would be reality after his little, cute butt got paddled solid. He was my son and had a cute bottom.
I slipped my left leg through his and scissored him tightly over my left thigh, or over my knee. He braced his floor-diving upper frame with hands on the carpet. He glanced back with nervous anticipation seeking to gauge the paddle. His buttocks perched high, ripe and ready, his dangling legs trapped by his swim suit now clutched around his ankles. I pushed away his tee-shirt exposing the small of his back. I was more then ready. His protestations continued, but he knew his fanny was getting a spanking. I do not believed he realized just how different a real paddling was. My hope: the first and last time the novelty-paddle would be in use.
His poolside attitude capped a weeklong behavior spiral. He splashed me while I chaise- lounged. I allowed some room knowing he was solo this trip without his 12-year-old brother. The final straw came when he deliberately splashed a complete stranger. The older man gave me a look. I stood and apologized. I let him and my tyrannical son know a good paddling was about to happen. The man gave me a wink probably remembering his own distant fatherhood chores. I ordered my kid out of the water and marched him back to the room.
The first slap swooshing back a foot or so from his bare-bottom. It was a stinger. OUCH!! Yes sir, this was the needed prescription. His legs flapped. He cried, please, stop. His butt stung and he was trying to wriggle free. I got a firm grip and held him tighter. The second slap again found its tender mark. His legs flailed. He cried out. The paddling was already working its magic. It hurts, he howled. Stop, Dad! I could not agree more I thought silently. I got back to work. I wordlessly counted to five. His painful little murmurs cautioned me not to overdo it. His little frame shivered and jolted with every swat. Three additional swats were gentle, but still hearty, butt-stingers, and he did not interrupt. He got a good, old-fashioned paddling! A 30-second behavior modification.
Done, I stood him up. He was crying and in pain soothing his aching rump. He was still in disbelief. I explained that was a real spanking, young man. I told him you got your bare bottom good and paddled. Yes, it hurts and stings. I don’t ever want to use it on you again, I said. His tear stained cheeks gave me pause. His crying was such that I instinctively held him. He pushed his head into me. I could not only see, but feel his pain. He needed the spanking, we both knew that.
I pulled up his bathing suit after I reviewed my handi-work. His bottom was red. When he was calm I put a cold washcloth on his backside. It took about an hour, but he came round. He agreed that he never wanted to get a paddling again. It really hurt. I let him talk it out. I repeated that it was an old-fashioned paddling on his bare bottom. And, he would be first in line if his behavior got worse.
David got a good, bare-bottom and over–the-knee paddling at age 10.
The paddle was a gift-shop purchase and had some silly wording on it. One thing I knew: thin as it might be, and only 12-inches long by 3-inches wide, it could work magic when applied lovingly, carefully and correctly against a naughty-boys bare bottom.
David was a sweet kid. 97-percent of the time. God, he was bad, real bad when he went off the deep end with his behavior. I only had to give him a few formal, over-the-knee, bare-bottom, hand spankings when he was seven and eight. All enjoyed a great run of good behavior when his naughty and sometimes devil self woke up when he was ten. I had threatened the paddle for some time. Told the kid it would be painful and sting his tender rump something fierce. Yeah, yeah…wont happen he told me. Well, it did, and he needed it.
I moved the hotel chair away from the desk. I retrieved the paddle, picked him up, pulled down his bathing suit, sat down, and plunked my David over my knee. He was already squirming in protest and very conscious his spanking was moments away.
Okay, okay he cried, I wont do it again. I knew that would be reality after his little, cute butt got paddled solid. He was my son and had a cute bottom.
I slipped my left leg through his and scissored him tightly over my left thigh, or over my knee. He braced his floor-diving upper fr
His poolside attitude capped a weeklong behavior spiral. He splashed me while I chaise- lounged. I allowed some room knowing he was solo this trip without his 12-year-old brother. The final straw came when he deliberately splashed a complete stranger. The older man gave me a look. I stood and apologized. I let him and my tyrannical son know a good paddling was about to happen. The man gave me a wink probably remembering his own distant fatherhood chores. I ordered my kid out of the water and marched him back to the room.
The first slap swooshing back a foot or so from his bare-bottom. It was a stinger. OUCH!! Yes sir, this was the needed presc
Done, I stood him up. He was crying and in pain soothing his aching rump. He was still in disbelief. I explained that was a real spanking, young man. I told him you got your bare bottom good and paddled. Yes, it hurts and stings. I don’t ever want to use it on you again, I said. His tear stained cheeks gave me pause. His crying was such that I instinctively held him. He pushed his head into me. I could not only see, but feel his pain. He needed the spanking, we both knew that.
I pulled up his bathing suit after I reviewed my handi-work. His bottom was red. When he was calm I put a cold washcloth on his backside. It took about an hour, but he came round. He agreed that he never wanted to get a paddling again. It really hurt. I let him talk it out. I repeated that it was an old-fashioned paddling on his bare bottom. And, he would be first in line if his behavior got worse.
By:
samyork
Age:
56-60
