Childhood Spanking Memories – From Dad, M/m R/L

[bigdaddy]

Childhood Spanking Memories – From Dad, M/m R/L

Caution: This is a real life memory of childhood spankings many years ago, back in the 1950’s and early 1960’s. If that subject makes you uncomfortable please read no further.

Most of the parental punishment spankings I can recall came from my father, especially as I grew older. By the age of around 8 or 9 my mother usually resorted to the dreaded “wait until your father gets home” line.
Spankings from my father ranged anywhere from a couple swats from his hand over clothes or on the bare butt, to several licks from his belt on the bare dependent upon the severity of the offense.

Usually when he did use his belt he stopped at around 5-6 licks. But, I remember at least one case which happened to be the last one I received, where I received about double the normal amount.
I remember it is the summer of 1963 a few months before my thirteenth birthday. My best friend Kevin swiped a few of his mother’s Pall Malls and the two of us snuck behind our friend Billy’s house to smoke them.
Unfortunately, Billy’s parents caught us and called the other parents and told Kevin and me we needed to go home. Even though they were only a few houses away it felt like a long death march because I knew what I was in for at home.

In hindsight what follows is dripping with irony:

When I walked in the front door, my father yelled: “get your butt into the living room now!”

When I walked into the living room it was filled with smoke from the cigarettes they had been smoking.
My father then began to lecture me about how filthy a habit smoking is, they are not going to tolerate me becoming a smoker, and that I am going to get a whipping.

If I had the guts and presence of mind to challenge them on their hypocrisy I would have done so, but I was too worried about what was going to happen to my butt to think of that. Also, it may have just made it worse for me at the time if I challenged him when he was that angry.

My father then sent me to my room to wait for him. Once I was in my room waiting it seemed like an eternity, but it was probably only a few minutes.

My dad walked into my room carrying his belt doubled over in his hand, closed the door and said: “Drop your pants and underwear.”

Me: “Dad I am too old for this!”
Dad: “I’ll decide when you are too old. Drop you pants know, because if I have to you’ll get it even worse.”

I let out a deep sigh and dropped my pants and underwear.

Dad: “Turn around, bend over, and put your hands on your knees.”
Me: “Please don’t this; I will never do it again.”

At that point my Dad lost his patience grabbed my arm, turned me around, bent me over, wrapped his arm around my waist, grabbed my right arm to hold it, pulled me to his side trapping my left arm behind him, then:

CRACK! Owww!, CRACK! Nooo!, CRACK! P-please CRACK! Stop!!, CRACK! Wah!
I tried to squirm free, but he made sure I wasn’t going anywhere.
CRACK! Waah!!, CRACK! Waah!, CRACK! WAAH!! CRACK! WAAHH!!, CRACK! WAAAH! !!

At that point I was howling and he let me go. I just dropped to the floor sobbing and rubbing my throbbing butt.

My father then said that “you are grounded” and then left the room.

The additional irony of this incident is that despite the whipping I received for smoking, I had their “permission” to smoke by the time I was 15.

Bigdaddy

[otklady]

I like your stories big daddy. I bet they have made you the spanker you are today. I am younger than you but was also spanked. There is something reassuring about knowing that the gig is up and that you will be dealt with...being called on the carpet. Having a spanking administered.