Daddy's Discipline: Part III: Wet Bottom Spanking

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I suspect that the reaction Polly and I experienced from spanking the boys’ bottoms is actually far more common than most people would dare to admit. I still don’t think of myself as a spanking fetishist, as I only enjoyed the experience in the context of my own sons being disciplined. I’m unsure about Polly – as I say, I don’t think it’s a conversation we will ever have – but certainly she has never shown any interest in spanking in the marital bed, for example.

Sitting down next to me on the bed he placed the tray on a chair, and untied the paci behind my head but kept it in my mouth. I am the oldest of four, with a sister two years younger and brothers five and eight years younger. By the time the older of the two boys was born, Mom had stepped aside from her classroom teacher career and was a full-time stay-at-home mother. I would estimate that 90 per cent of our spankings at home came from her. When Denise’s spanking was over and she returned to the spot where she had been standing, Kate looked at me and said: “Your turn, young man.” I was standing about 10ft away, but the walk to that bench felt like one of those dreams in which you are walking toward a destination but never get any closer to it. My head was spinning – I felt scared, embarrassed, and exhilarated, all at the same time. It seemed like it took daddy ages to diaper me, and the whole time I could feel the pressure mounting inside my tummy. He took an extra long time putting the lotion on me, making sure his fingers touched me everywhere that got me excited, knowing I was trying hard as I could not to have an accident. When he finished and taped up the diaper, daddy helped me to my knees and told me I was a bad baby, and this is what happened to bad babies. Lets see if a good long spanking will make my baby behave like the good little girl she is!” Daddy said as his hand rained down on my bum, I could tell it must have been redder than my face, and I was squirming, but daddy was holding my legs down and there was no way I could stop him.

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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!” Finally, after what seemed like ages, I finished all that was in the bowl. I assumed daddy was going to wipe my face off, but instead he put the bowl down and proceeded to put the bottle in my mouth.

He kept running his hand so lightly up one thigh then down the other as I squirmed and giggled so much my paci fell out. “stop stop” I gasped. I would get a few more spankings from Kate after she became my stepmother, but that first spanking from her holds a special place in my heart. That’s my good girl. See what a baby you are. You like being I a messy messy diaper. Just like a big baby.” My face turns bright red as daddy says this, he knows it will, but he keeps rubbing my nipples, softly so softly, just enough for me to feel the pressure, once in a while pinching one then rubbing, rolling them in his fingers. I keep squirming and he just holds me tighter. Telling me what a baby I am, that daddy is going to have to make sure his baby is kept in a diaper like a baby should be. 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. The whole time I was drinking daddy was reminding me of what a big baby I was, drinking from a bottle, and getting my lunch all over me, just like a messy baby would. I didn’t think my face could get any redder.Time outs. A time out should last roughly 1 minute for each year of age (e.g. 2-minute time outs for a 2-year-old). That’s right” he said softly, and I felt his finger go into my bum, only soon I realized… that wasn’t his finger, because it kept going in and in. I tensed up again and again daddy slapped my bottom. I cried out from the pain, but got no sympathy. We have been together just shy of a year but have known each other for 10 years. We have a crazy comfort level lol which is nice, but lately, there has been a side to him that I have never seen. He is more dominant and aggressive. Not in a mean way, idk how to really explain it. Anyway, we were in our room and I was putting away clothes and he came in and we were playing around and I got a slight attitude because I am just moody today and he told me to “drop my attitude” and me being me I was like “Or f*****g what?” And he said “If you don’t adjust it, I will do it for you, it’s unnecessary” now, mind you, he always says things like that and I always reply the same way which is I laugh and made a smart ass comment like “Yeah, okay, whatever you say” and he laughs and says “Yeah, I got nothing” and we move on, HOWEVER, this time he informed me that he was warning me and I just rolled my eyes and said “Yeah, I hear you, you should really work on your intimidation skills” and he was like “Oh yeah? You are about to regret that comment” and before I could get through another eye roll, he walked over to me, grabbed my arm, walked/pulled me over to our bed, with his other hand he yanked my pajama pants down, he sat down and told me to step closer to him, I didn’t, not even thinking his hand was still on my arm, and after 2 seconds he was like “Okay, we’ll do it my way then” and he yanked me towards him and then you guys, he yanked me down and bent me over his lap and he proceeded to spank me. Hard. And the whole time he asked me if I was going to lose my attitude. Did I like him having to spank me. Do I understand why he is. Blah blah blah. 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.

Now be a good girl and just relax for daddy. You want to show daddy that you want to be his good little baby girl don’t you?” Daddy asked me, again a bit of warning in his voice. This was a big deal, needless to say, and there was an after-school conference with the moms and the principal (a nun). The upshot was that the three of them were given two Saturdays of detention, which meant a half day of tasks like cleaning classrooms and doing yard work around the school. However, that was the least of my brother’s worries.

Mr Byers And His Boy - Don't Wake Mom

Oh my what a messy baby you are!” daddy says in my ear “getting food all over your face and now messing your diaper. You really are a baby. A messy messy baby who needs to be in diapers. Look how messy you are.” Over and over daddy said these things to me, my face bright red, tears falling down it, as he rubbed and pressed himself against my warm diaper. His hands on my hips pulling me into him, I could feel daddy’s excitement, as he began rubbing against me faster and faster, until with a final thrust he stopped then slowly stopped rubbing, the whole while telling me what a messy messy baby I was, his hands never stopping, always pushing my messy diapy. As daddy was saying this, he had secured one ankle to the bed, and had moved to the other one, making sure my legs were drawn apart, not to tight as to hurt, but far enough I could not bring them together. 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. There was a fan across the room and I could feel it blowing on me, daddy must have turned it up to high because I was covered in goose pimples and could feel my nipples getting hard.