Strict loving parents.. .. Birdie
Looking back, I feel truly blessed to have had strict loving parents who took the time to properly paddle or strap my deserving bottom as needed. Of course, while being scolded with my nervous bottom already bared for discpline, I didn't always feel so appreciative.
Minor infractions were dealt with on the spot by my mom with her paddle. For more serious misbehavior she would tell me that I would be 'getting the strap'.
The ritual of 'getting the strap' was very effective. The time spent waiting to be strapped at early bedtime with a feeling of fearful dread. Then being sent to bed right after supper. Nervously waiting in bed for my parents to arrive. Being told to get up and get undressed. Removing my nightgown or pajama bottoms and my panties. Having to stand feeling very vulnerable with my bottom bared for a discussion of my behavior. Dad removing his belt while firmly scolding me. Being turned sideways into position. And finally, the strapping itself with occasional pauses for more strict scolding and warnings for me to "HOLD STILL". Very effective.
Before the addition on our house, I shared a bedroom with my older brother. It was very scary to see him getting the strap so I tried to be very well behaved so I wasn't strapped too often. But it was always a very memorable occasion whenever I was.
I was pretty well behaved and wasn't strapped much until my late teens when I wouldn't express any remorse when paddled and I foolishly pretended that mom's paddle didn't hurt - even though it did.
After we graduated from high school, my boyfriend left for college in the fall. I became very lonely and depressed when he left, We agreed that it would be okay if we had safe sex with others while we were apart so long but I didn't want anyone else. I only wanted him.
Unfortunately, I took my frustrations out on my poor mom with sass and a rotten attitude. When I wouldn't express any remorse as she paddled me, she decided that I needed a good strapping. Since dad was working late, she called our next-door neighbor (who we always called Uncle Phil) and explained the situation.
I was soon on my way next-door to Uncle Phil's with explicit instructions to remove my jeans and my panties immediately upon arrival. I was soon sobbing and expressing very sincere remorse for my behavior as my very deserving dancing bottom was being properly strapped.
Having been punished by my parents and uncle Phil, I have always associated being punished with being loved. Birdie
Minor infractions were dealt with on the spot by my mom with her paddle. For more serious misbehavior she would tell me that I would be 'getting the strap'.
The ritual of 'getting the strap' was very effective. The time spent waiting to be strapped at early bedtime with a feeling of fearful dread. Then being sent to bed right after supper. Nervously waiting in bed for my parents to arrive. Being told to get up and get undressed. Removing my nightgown or pajama bottoms and my panties. Having to stand feeling very vulnerable with my bottom bared for a discussion of my behavior. Dad removing his belt while firmly scolding me. Being turned sideways into position. And finally, the strapping itself with occasional pauses for more strict scolding and warnings for me to "HOLD STILL". Very effective.
Before the addition on our house, I shared a bedroom with my older brother. It was very scary to see him getting the strap so I tried to be very well behaved so I wasn't strapped too often. But it was always a very memorable occasion whenever I was.
I was pretty well behaved and wasn't strapped much until my late teens when I wouldn't express any remorse when paddled and I foolishly pretended that mom's paddle didn't hurt - even though it did.
After we graduated from high school, my boyfriend left for college in the fall. I became very lonely and depressed when he left, We agreed that it would be okay if we had safe sex with others while we were apart so long but I didn't want anyone else. I only wanted him.
Unfortunately, I took my frustrations out on my poor mom with sass and a rotten attitude. When I wouldn't express any remorse as she paddled me, she decided that I needed a good strapping. Since dad was working late, she called our next-door neighbor (who we always called Uncle Phil) and explained the situation.
I was soon on my way next-door to Uncle Phil's with explicit instructions to remove my jeans and my panties immediately upon arrival. I was soon sobbing and expressing very sincere remorse for my behavior as my very deserving dancing bottom was being properly strapped.
Having been punished by my parents and uncle Phil, I have always associated being punished with being loved. Birdie
