Spanked Otk By My Dad
I was spanked as a child in a rather ritualistic way. Sure, I received swats from both parents on my behind if I stepped out of line, but I knew I was really in trouble when I was sent to my room to change into my night clothes and wait for my Dad to arrive home from work. I would hear his car pull up and hope deep inside myself that my Mom would decide not to tell him about whatever transgression I was guilty of after all.
I would hear their voices murmur in the kitchen below my bedroom before those awful footsteps thudded up the stairs and then the door would open and in would walk my tall and rather well built Dad with a grim look on his face and the thin wooden paddle in his hand. He would take a seat on my bed and tell me that he had heard I had been misbehaving. Then the question would come;
"What did I say would happen if you misbehaved like this again?" by this time the tears were usually running down my cheeks already. "Huh?" he would question my non-reply.
"I don't know Daddy," I would sniffle.
"I said I'd put you over my knee and spank your bare bottom hard didn't I?"
By now, I was usually crying so hard, I couldn't respond. Then my Daddy would pull me over his knee, pull up my nightie and pull my panties down around my knees while all the while I begged "no daddy no, please, I'll be a good girl."
Ignoring my pleas he would chastise me and warn me about what happens to naughty girls, while I, feeling the cool air on my embarrassingly bared bottom would look down at the carpet and at my Dad's slippers, wishing I could be anywhere but here. Then as the paddle swung through the air, I would hold my breath before the first stroke sent a sharp stinging pain through my little behind at which point I would sob loudly and make a huge fuss, begging and telling my Daddy I was a sorry girl. "You will be sorry when I've finished with you," he would say delivering one stinging slap after another as I struggled under his firm grip to no avail.
"Aw, please Daddy please, noooo." I would beg, but it fell on deaf ears and I could feel my bottom sting more and more as I lay across my Daddy's lap crying like a baby.
I even remember a neighborhood kid making fun of me in school the day after one of my spankings. When I asked him what he was doing that night, he replied, "Staying in my bedroom crying and begging my Daddy not to spank me." My face burned almost as much as my butt had the evening before. It was summer and my bedroom window had been open and I could hear the other kids playing, so of course they must have heard me getting spanked. I was mortified and every time I got a spanking I wondered if everyone at school could tell that my Dad had put me over his knee and spanked my bare bottom the night before.
After my spanking, my Dad would pull my panties back up, stand me in front of him and say something like "Now, when you think of acting up like that again, just remember that I will put you over my knee and paddle your butt. You won't be misbehaving like that again will you?"
"No Daddy," I would sniffle.
"Right, now get into bed and you can come down for dinner when your Mommy calls you."
The embarrassment of sitting at the dinner table in my nightie with a tear streaked face was unbearable. I was the youngest of four siblings and if at any time one of us was at the dinner table in our PJ's everyone knew that you'd had your panties pulled down for a spanking. And being the youngest by a few years, I got spanked far beyond when the others did, although I vaguely remember them receiving a whipping or two. The other shame was if a friend knocked on the door to invite me over to play, my parents would tell them I had misbehaved and been spanked and sent to bed.