A swing of opinion

I’ve noticed recently on this site there have been a few stories where youngsters have been spanked for wetting themselves. Under nearly all circumstances, I am personally opposed to doing so – but they say there’s an exception to every rule…

Nichole, my third born and second girl, was my exception. The following incident happened when she was seven or eight – in third grade, at any rate. I was at work and my phone rang. It was the school, calling to ask me if I could bring my daughter a change of clothes, due to an accident.

Of course, I promised to get there right away. I felt terrible for Nichole, knowing she was likely to be feeling humiliated. She hadn’t wet herself in quite a few years, so at that moment I was only concerned about helping her. I talked to my boss and he kindly gave permission to go home and grab Nichole’s spare uniform.

I quickly headed to the school and went to the office, where she was waiting for me. I put down her fresh clothing and asked her what had happened. I wasn’t scolding her – I was just concerned. To be honest, I wanted to make sure a teacher hadn’t prevented her from going to the bathroom or something similar.

Nichole told me that it happened during recess. “I was on a swing, and suddenly I just really had to pee badly. I went inside but I didn’t make it to the bathroom before…” Her voice tailed off and she started sniffling.

This information perked my ears up a bit, and I started to gently coax the full story out of her. Luckily for her, no students saw her in her mess. A teacher had found her crying in the bathroom and took her to the school counsellor, who called me. So there were only the four of us who knew at that point. However, I was more concerned with the absolutely sudden way she had to pee.

Eventually, I got the truth out of her that I had suspected. It turned out there were other students who wanted a swing and Nichole didn’t want to get up and lose her place, so she thought she could hold her bladder until recess was over – and only realised she was wrong by the time it was too late.

Well, to me, that now sounded less like an accident and more like a poor decision – and one I was not happy about. Nichole was certainly old enough to know to listen to her body, and she chose something fairly meaningless over it, resulting in extra work for a teacher and the counsellor, and me having to leave work. I decided she needed to be punished.

Without a second thought, I gave her a quick but hard pop right there on her bottom. I then delivered a brief but forceful lecture before turning to the counsellor. “I think I’m going to take this naughty little girl home to deal with her properly instead of just leaving clean clothes,” I said. By this time, there were only about a couple of hours left in the school day, so it wasn’t that big a deal. I signed Nichole out and home we went.

I left her in her wet clothes for the ride home – I threw a beach towel down on the car seat for her to sit down on while she still could. The second we arrived back, I told Nichole to go straight to the laundry room. As she headed downstairs, I paused just long enough to retrieve my wooden spoon and a wash cloth.

Down in the basement, I stripped her, put her clothes in the wash and quickly cleaned her up. The vast majority of the time, I spanked the kids in their own rooms – but given that her two older siblings were at school, her younger sister in daycare and her father at work, I figured might as well just take care of everything right there.

I sat down on our old couch and placed my errant daughter across my lap, grabbed the spoon and set her tail on fire. I won’t say it was the hardest spanking she’d ever had up to that point, but it hurt plenty. I wore her butt out.

Then I made her stand, hands on her head, until the washer finished its cycle. Meanwhile, I called my husband and asked him to pick Abbie up from daycare and the older kids from school. Then I had Nichole change into pyjamas and she helped me make dinner.

When her siblings and Dad got home, everyone could see she had come home early and had been well spanked (given her squirming while sitting down for dinner) but we didn’t tell anyone else why she had been punished. For many years, it was our little secret, helping her avoid embarrassment until such time when she was old enough that it didn’t really matter anymore.

Contributor: Elizabeth

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