As we’ve recently celebrated Hallowe’en again, I thought you might like to hear about a whipping I received when I was a girl, having just returned home from trick or treating with my friends.
I was 11 years old, and it was only the second year I had been allowed to go trick or treating without my dad and brother and instead hang out with friends. My brother was also going for the first time with his own friends.
I dressed up as a witch that year – I had an awesome time with my friends and we collected a ton of candy. Trick or treat was due to end at 8pm, so my dad expected me home by ten past. Well, you know how it is when kids are all together having fun – by the time we left our last house, it was already a little after eight.
Only one of us kids had a watch on, and after she checked it, we all knew we all needed to high-tail it back home. We had messed up and also made the mistake of not starting to work our way back close to where we all lived. To compound the circumstances, I ended up walking one of the other girls to her house as she was scared about walking that final block alone. Granted, there were no street lights on her street and at least I had a flashlight.
When I finally walked in the door, I didn’t know what time it was exactly but knew I had missed my 10 minute mark. My dad started right in on me and informed me just what time it was. It was 8.25, and he demanded to know why I was 15 minutes late.
I figured that if I was honest and told him everything, it would be all right, but he replied: “Kelsey, ignorance is not an excuse. If you want this freedom, you need to learn that when I give you a time to be back, I mean just that.”
I could say nothing more to that than an obedient ‘yes Daddy’. I could tell he had been drinking so I knew he would not be very forgiving. Then I saw him start removing his belt from around his waist. I begged ‘Daddy, please, no!’ but he just grabbed my arm and led me around to the kitchen island. He then yelled ‘let’s go, girl!’ as I just faced the living room standing against the island.
I reached under my dress and pulled my tights down, leaving only my underwear for protection, then lifted my dress up before leaning over the island and burying my face in my arms, waiting for the pain.
My dad had probably laid three licks on my bottom when sensed my brother’s presence – I had been taking my licks fairly quietly, not yet having broken down to crying. I looked up to see my brother standing there. I remember mouthing to him that I would be OK, then feeling the fourth lick across my butt before putting my head back down.
As long as I held still, my dad kept his belt across my butt and didn’t get my legs or back but man, by the time he was done my butt felt like it was swollen and engulfed in flames. I was a bawling mess.
He finally let me up. As he did so, he scolded me again but truth be told, I have no more idea what he said now then I did then because I was crying so hard and I don’t think it was possible to process anything. I pulled up my tights and went to the freezer to grab an ice pack and ran off to my room. Yes, unless told I wasn’t allowed I would sit on an ice pack to help my butt feel better!
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