Resisting A Spanking...So in my house, one of the biggest non-negotiables was cooperation during a punishment. Baring, positioning, cooperation, and limited theatrics were all expected. My parents felt that playing an active role in our own punishment ensured that a certain level of humility was obtained. By obeying them without question, the offender was also reminded of who was in charge.
Of course, my rebellious teenage years led me to sometimes resist the process from time to time. Unfortunately, I was taught a very painful lesson each and every time. Any delay or resistance on my part typically resulted in additional strokes, and more often than I liked, an entirely separate spanking.
One memorable time where this was the case was when I was 14. I had been obnoxious and was sentenced to a spanking. Feeling a bit older, I told my dad that I thought I was too old for a spanking. While he said we could certainly discuss this, the time to do so was not after a punishment had been earned. I continued to argue and was informed that I was skating on very thin ice. I was ordered to my room to prepare myself, and once there, I started to take my sweet time to demonstrate my protest at what I thought was unfair. Well, my dad did not appreciate what he considered to be disobedience, and I was informed that my spanking was now going to be longer than he had planned.
At this point, I could have escaped with just that, but, I was still in a very resistant mood. During the spanking, I kept putting my hand back (this is never allowed) and finally I felt I had, had enough, and got out of position. Despite my dad ordering me back over, I decided I was done and we started to argue. Finally, he got very quiet and stated, "I know what will solve this." A minute later he had returned with the strap. All stubbornness on my part was over, but it was too late. I was ordered to lay down on the bed with my arms flat on the bed and out to my sides. I was told that I was to receive a very harsh strapping and that neither my arms nor my body were to move no matter how painful it became. Any deviation was going to add 5 lashes and if I moved more than two times we would repeat it again the following day. Thankfully, while my dad tore my butt up, I managed to make it with only one extra 5 lash set. Needless to say I learned to just take what I had earned from now on and save the resistance for when I wasn't about to have a strap whipping my behind.