My parents were very strict. I along with my younger brother were often given the strap. My father who believed in "spare the rod spoil the child", definitely did not spare the rod. Whenever I pushed the boundaries or did something my parents deemed unacceptable I was in for a strapping.
Their form of punishment was painful and humiliating. When did something wrong, I would get called into the living room. Once there I was told to get ready for the strap. I remove my pants and underwear, and be interrogated by my father. This part was worst than the strap.
I'd answer his questions as best as I could, the anxiety and fear that would build up inside of me would often cause me to start blubbering and giving coy answers that would only make matters worse.
During this phase I would start tearing up and really have a hard time answering.
Eventually the interrogation would end and the dreaded words "Go get the Strap" would come out. I would go retrieve it whimpering and hand it to my father while asking to be punished.
Once he had the strap, he tell me to turn around, bend over and don't move. If I moved I got extra. The count was my age, plus extra.
Many years later I still feel the shame and embarrassment from those punishments.
spanking?
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My parents were very strict. I along with my younger brother were often given the strap. My father who believed in "spare the rod spoil the child", definitely did not spare the rod. Whenever I pushed the boundaries or did something my parents deemed unacceptable I was in for a strapping.
Their form of punishment was painful and humiliating. When did something wrong, I would get called into the living room. Once there I was told to get ready for the strap. I remove my pants and underwear, and be interrogated by my father. This part was worst than the strap.
I'd answer his questions as best as I could, the anxiety and fear that would build up inside of me would often cause me to start blubbering and giving coy answers that would only make matters worse.
During this phase I would start tearing up and really have a hard time answering.
Eventually the interrogation would end and the dreaded words "Go get the Strap" would come out. I would go retrieve it whimpering and hand it to my father while asking to be punished.
Once he had the strap, he tell me to turn around, bend over and don't move. If I moved I got extra. The count was my age, plus extra.
Many years later I still feel the shame and embarrassment from those punishments.