Daddy's Little HelperMost of my spankings were from my Mom but Dad also was quick to discipline me and my two sisters. He'd generally march us upstairs and whip our butts with a razor strap and that was something I absolutely dreaded. Several times however he'd spank us downstairs and on those occasions he'd use his belt.
I'll never forget seeing him unbuckle it. Sometimes that's as far as he'd go. I might make some smart comment to him or be slow to do something he told me to do and he'd undo the buckle and I would jump up and do as I was told or else apologize for what I said and get a reprieve. He'd re-fasten it and I'd breathe a huge sigh of relief. These, sadly, were the exceptions to the rule. Mostly when Dad decided to spank then that was it.
I can remember many time arguing with him and he'd undo his belt and say "That's just about enough from you young lady. Now you're going to get your butt whipped". It was either that or "I'm going to strap your fanny" or "Now you're getting a taste of the belt". With Dad it was never a spanking. From him it was always a whipping. I don't know what it is about that word but it scared the heck out of me. For some reason a "whipping" always made me more frightened than a "spanking". I don't know, I mean technically I guess that's what it is when you get your bottom hit with a strap or a belt but psychologically at least I was less afraid of a spanking like "Whew! Thank God I'm just getting a spanking and not a whipping!". In truth they were both just as severe and just as painful.
Anyhow, a "whipping" from my Dad was a serious affair and was given, if up in my room, bent over the edge of my bed or lying face down on my bed with a pillow under me. If it was downstairs it was one of the following: Bent over the back of the sofa, bent over the arm of the sofa or bent over the back of a chair with my hands on the seat.
Being a girl and being spanked bare bottom by your Dad was always extra humiliating but he made it worse by saying things like "Stick your bottom out" and "You'd better keep your butt still". Dads are great for encouragement!
He'd pull his belt out in one swift motion and the sound of it slipping through the loops...I can't think of the right words to describe it...like click click click...or "br-rr-rr-rr-ip" (I know, that's not even a word!) made my heart skip a beat. He also had the nasty habit of folding it in two and snapping the two halves a time or two which made a sickening sound and I just wanted to get up and run and run and run.
And then...the first smack hit and it was like being struck by lightning. Again I can't adequately describe the feeling...kind of like a sting and a burn all wrapped into one. and it seemed to build like it would hurt when it landed and a split second later hurt even more and the first smack of a belt or strap is the exact level of intensity as the 21st smack from it.
That is why I chose my profile picture because his belt (and more so his razor strap) was laid on just as it was in that picture. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!
A spanking from my Mom was just as hard if not in fact harder but for me it was worse getting smacked by my Dad. I guess because even though my Mom would not put up with it, I at least had the courage to kind of resist her and to sort of protest more whereas a whipping from my Dad required total obedience and I could not fuss as much as I did when being spanked by Mom