A date with Daddy’s belt

To be honest, my husband is not much of a spanker. Nevertheless, he has never hesitated to warm our children’s bottoms when he felt such discipline was necessary.

One such occasion happened when we were at my mother’s house one day. Susana and Julio were watching TV when they began arguing over who had the remote control.

After a few minutes, I decided it was time to put a lid on it. “Either you both stop arguing right now, or the television goes off completely and that’ll be the end of it,” I warned the children.

It was at that point that Susana, who was eight at the time, completely lost her temper. She went out of the room, slamming the door behind her. My husband shouted after her: “Susana, do not slam the door like that!” The door opened again and Susana, her face red with anger, screamed back: “Leave me alone!”

That was enough for my husband. “I think it’s time for a sore bottom. Upstairs with you!” Both my husband and I took Susana upstairs while Julio stayed with his grandmother, now looking very sober indeed himself.

When we got to the top of the stairs with our child, we took her into the spare room, where I delivered myself of a stiff lecture about respecting your parents and not making a scene in front of others.

Once I had finished, my husband turned to our daughter. “Lift your dress, take down your panties and lie face down on the bed. Susana turned to me, tears rolling down in her face. “Mummy, please forgive me!” “You’ll be forgiven once you’ve been punished,” I replied. With that, I bared her bottom for her and guided her on to her tummy, carefully hitching up the back of her dress to expose her bare bottom.

While I was preparing Susana for her spanking, my husband had taken off his belt and folded it in to. He laid the leather across Susana’s buttocks for a moment to get his aim, then brought it down firmly. She gave out a yell you could have heard three streets away, never mind downstairs, and a broad red mark rose up across both cheeks of her bottom.

She got five more strokes of the belt – a good, old-fashioned ‘six of the best’ – and was crying like a baby. When I finally lifted her up from the punishment position, her tears and snot had left a dark mark on the bedspread.

We comforted her for a while, then I told her she was forgiven and I covered her bottom back up. It was a deep red from the top of her bum crack to the top of her legs.

When she had calmed down a little, we all went downstairs, where I told her grandmother what she had received, much to Susana’s embarrassment. But her grandmother just nodded approvingly and told her: “That’s how children learn, Susana. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to take down your mother’s or Aunt Cristina’s panties and smack their bottoms hard.”

Suddenly remembering some of those times – and having my own bare bottom referred to in polite conversation – I had the grace to blush myself.

Contributor: Laura

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