My daughter Rachel was something of a brat growing up – she always seemed to have an attitude, never did as she was told, misbehaved all the time – and from around five to about 14, my wife and I frequently had to resort to giving her a sore arse.
When Rachel was 10 years old, her mum caught her smoking. This was during the school summer holidays, and my wife made Rachel telephone me at work to tell me what had happened.
I was naturally livid and told my daughter to put her mum back on the phone. I told her that Rachel needed her arse leathering there and then – but she replied that spanking was the father’s job. I heard her tell Rachel: “Get to your room! Just wait till your dad gets home!”
My wife had caught Rachel with a cigarette in her hand in the early part of the afternoon. I was busy at work and didn’t get home until after seven o’clock. Meanwhile, Rachel had been waiting for retribution in her underwear (just vest and pants) for many hours, contemplating the punishment to come.
I spoke to my wife briefly when I got in. I said: “I think she needs the belt for this.” My wife agreed: “That’s definitely what I would have got if I’d been caught smoking at her age.”
I went upstairs to Rachel’s room. She was by now looking remorseful and scared. Her two younger sisters were in the room they shared next door and there was absolute silence from there – they knew their big sister was about to get soundly skelped!
I gave Rachel a bit telling-off, warning about the health risks of smoking. Then I said: “This is a job for the belt. Wait there while I fetch it.” She began to cry softly at learning her fate.
It was the first time I had used the belt on Rachel – she had been slippered once before, but this was by far the worst hiding I ever gave her, and she knew she had it coming too.
I returned with the belt, took down her knickers to bare her arse, and put her across my knee. I began skelping her with my hand first of all. Even with this relatively mild punishment, she was soon crying and bawling like a toddler.
Once I had tanned her arse with my hand, I made her lie face down on her bed and began to belt her. Rachel howled as I put the leather across her buttocks – they were red raw by the time I’d finished, and she was howling.
“Right,” I said, “pull up your pants. You are not to leave this room apart from coming down for dinner and using the toilet. Do you understand?” Her face was stained with tears as she nodded obediently. “What’s more,” I added, “you are grounded for these last weeks of the holiday. Let that be a lesson to you!”
My wife checked Rachel’s arse for a few days after the belting, and told me it took about a week for the marks to fade away entirely. But my daughter never smoked again – and doesn’t to this day, so lesson learned!