This is a great pic.
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@wangst
This is a great pic.
Awsome.
An ass whoopin' sets her straight
A paddling after Sunday school.
When you start crying before the whipping daddy promised you even starts. 😭
When mother tells daddy what you did.
Paddled in the study.
The belt.
Isabella was constantly getting disciplined with the spanking rod. Every one or two weeks, either Mom or Dad would appear with the rod and she knew she was going to have another sore butt. Isabella hated the spanking rod, hated the humiliation of having to bare her buttocks and bend over. But she didn't resist the parental discipline spankings.
Isabella would look at Mom or Dad silently, with a pleading face. When it became clear a pleading face wouldn't move them, and they said, "This isn't a negotiation, you're getting spanked!" she would get up and comply. With pain in her face and butterflies in her belly, Isabella would bare her bottom and bend over without protest. Then her Mom or Dad would spank her hard and fast with the spanking rod, leaving welted butt cheeks. The rod was difficult for her to accept, but she accepted it as part of life and always submitted silently to the rod of correction.
The switch… the real attention getter!
For not doing her chores in the garden.
Fantastic switching. He whips her thighs well.
Sarah writes: My mom was old-fashioned and her first option for discipline was always spanking, right up to and including when I turned 18. Trust me that damn hairbrush hurt, but the worst part was this mind game she pulled. After blistering my butt and making me a sobbing, squirming mess, she’d stop and ask “Have you had enough, young lady?” What the hell did she think I would say???? I’d whimper out a “yes ma’am” and if I was lucky she’d say “All right, I hope I don’t have to do this again” and we’d be done. If I wasn’t lucky she’d say “hmm a few more” and my heart would sink and I’d cry like a baby as she kept wailing on my bare ass. Her definition of “a few” was quite expansive! I really did try to behave. I didn’t want any part of her punishments.
She wanted to be a good wife. She was raised strictly to be a good wife. She enjoyed being a good wife and it brought her immense satisfaction, psychologically and sexually, to be in a marriage with traditional roles and corporal punishment. Her husband was a good man with an easygoing nature but was strict when he had to be. They both saw eye-to-eye on what a relationship between a man and a woman should be. She didn’t like to be punished, especially when he used the belt, but did like that she was with a man who would do it when needed. So when he told her no rubbing until he gave her permission, she obeyed. She stood against that wall for a good 45 minutes after her belt spanking, silent and still. It didn’t even cross her mind to rub her stinging, red cheeks until she heard him say “all right honey, you can take your hands off your head and rub if you want. Then you can get dressed when you’re ready.” She was a good wife.
From Carri:
My mom was big on discipline and by that I mean corporal punishment. Didn’t take much to get your butt beat in our house and she always left our bedroom doors open when she was punishing us, I guess to “make an example” of us or something. She kept this up well into our late teens and I would have absolutely died if any of my boyfriends found out I got my bare bottom spanked like a little girl. I felt I was way too old for that but she disagreed and she was definitely in charge.
Anna writes:
I was really annoyed and embarrassed that our parents spanked us into young adulthood. Where I grew up it wasn’t unheard of, but I was in the minority. I have to say that while I didn’t like how we were punished, my parents were fair about when they applied it. Except for one time, I certainly deserved every spanking I received. About that one time … I don’t know really what was going on. I didn’t do anything wrong, hadn’t broken a rule or anything. My dad just said “I don’t like your attitude” and next thing I knew I was bent over my bed with his belt going across my bare butt. That was the one time I didn’t “take it like a good girl” and resisted, which of course only made it worse. I was 17 and spent the next few days hiding the welts across my ass from my boyfriend. Took me a while to forgive my dad for it. He always whipped hard but that was extra and uncalled for.