Disciplined by Her Daddy - Book Two: a collection of father spanks daughter stories

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Peggy and Donald told me that they’d spanked all their kids growing up, and that they’d all turned out fine. They were amazed that my parents didn’t spank me, and surprised that we didn’t have to take our trousers down for the cane at school. In the Grand Rapids Bible Belt, it was pants down for a spanking, whether at home or at school. The visits were wonderful experiences on the whole, often for two to three weeks at a time, and they were paid for through the books of my father’s business, nominally as a kind of apprenticeship, though I never actually went into the business. We walked with bowed heads to the bench and sat down. “She’s going to spank us,” said Kristie. “Yup, definitely,” Denise answered. I sat there not knowing what to expect. I had been wanting this spanking for weeks, but now that it might actually happen – and even take place in a public park – I was feeling a twinge in my stomach.

That night, as I was lying down and getting ready to sleep, Kate walked into my room and sat on my bed. She said to me: “You’ve heard me tell Denise and Kristie that I spank them because I love them, haven’t you?” I nodded. “Well, now you know that I love you too.” She kissed me on the cheek.

A similar fate befell the older of my two younger brothers. When he was in eighth grade, he, one of our cousins who was in his class and another kid were caught drinking behind the maintenance garage during recess at the Catholic school they attended. My cousin had taken these single shot rum bottles from his parents and the three of them were taking swigs from them when they were caught. By this time, my erection was straining against the fabric of my trousers and I stumbled from the kitchen to the bathroom, dropped my pants, grabbed a handful of lotion and within seconds had shot a massive load of semen into the toilet. Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your

The overwhelming majority of spankings from Mom even went unreported to Dad and he never knew that most of them had even happened. There was never a ‘wait until your father gets home’ with mom – she took care of business and we all carried on afterwards, and it might never even be on his radar. After a while, Kate called to the three of us: “OK, kids, time to head home let’s go!” Denise and I ran over to her promptly, but Kristie was having too much fun on the monkey bars and was not ready to leave. Her Mom told her a second time that it was time to go. Kristie replied in a sassy tone: “No, Mommy! I’m staying here!”I was amazed. I had been spanked by my parents and my aunt before, but those spankings were always done in private. I had never seen or imagined a grown-up giving a child an over-the-knee spanking in a public setting like that. Although there was no-one else using the playground at the time, I’m sure that people driving by on the road must have noticed. Kate also took quite a liking to me. She was very warm and motherly to me, which only made my crush on her grow stronger. I began to imagine what it would be like to be spanked by her. I would lie in bed at night and replay in my head the times I had seen Denise or Kristie being spanked – but substituting myself as the naughty child.

Welcome to spanking sons a forum for son's and nephews fathers and uncles to talk about spanking in the past and now In the next few weeks, I saw Denise and Kristie get spanked during trips to the grocery store, the mall and the movie theatre, as well as the playground. Interestingly, neither of the girls seemed to feel any sense of embarrassment about it. They talked about their spankings very matter-of-factly, and did not think it unusual to be spanked in front of strangers. My brother was not normally a crier, but he had tears in his eyes and a streak of snot running down his nose when Dad finally exiled him to the corner, where his crimson bottom remained on display while we ate a very quiet and subdued dinner. There was more patting and squeezing of my bottom cheeks, like they were kneading bread, and lots of cat-calls, mostly from the women. Charlotte, by contrast, had got a lot of male attention.With my mom, spanking was a last resort, to be used only for exceptionally naughty behaviour. But for Kate, spanking was the go-to discipline. I probably got spanked two or three times a year, but it seemed like Denise and Kristie got their bottoms tanned more than two or three times in a week. Simon was around two and a half when he first felt my hand across his bottom. My wife Polly and I had agreed prior to his birth (with that characteristic naive optimism of first-time parents) that spanking was old-fashioned and unnecessary; in fact, frankly, we felt that it was cruel and barbaric.