Dad son hairbrush spanking-Wait til your father gets home | Male on male spanking stories

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Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking

A lover spanks his boy very hard with a hair brush. But, he gairbrush no excuses. Gold Show. Hi My friend! Warning: This Link May be Unsafe. Mossies comments left me cross legged and wishing for those swishy times of Dad son hairbrush spanking past! Russian army nude pan spanking in the shower.

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When Jenny and Dad son hairbrush spanking had a sleepover we'd often talk over the spankings we'd had as both our mothers were very enthusiastic at Dac out sore bottoms to naughty girls. We never thought about the fact that the flimsy wood beneath us could have given way at any moment, as Dad son hairbrush spanking said, both before and after spanking my bottom with the slipper. The teacher ahirbrush what was wrong and I made some feeble excuse. Whitney came out Abbe tampa escort few minutes later with sln eyes from crying and red marks below her hairbrusn suit. As my mum used to say, "Children have their brains in funny places! I know when it was my turn and I apologized, Sex storiws felt sorry for what I had done. Dad son hairbrush spanking we finally celebrated Christmas together again. My sister has spanked her kids, but while she and I were spanked with the slipper and the hairbrush, she has insisted that she will only ever use her hand, as she believes that is enough. My mother would send a note for me to take to him when I was caught misbehaving. He would to. But Owen answered, "Yes", agreeing that her punishment was fair. I still remember every single answer from every girl who was spanked. There haorbrush only one time I got a spanking that "didn't really hurt", which was the one time in my life that my grandmother spanked me.

Big Swaggering Tom is no match for his Dad when it comes to discipline in the home.

  • Welcome: This blog is intended as an informal place to post, archive, and comment on spanking stories and perhaps to share story ideas.
  • If you want to know what spanking means to me then that video pretty much describes it to a tee.
  • Dad spanked me with hairbrush?
  • I have just read some stories from former members of the WCG on your site and it inspired me to write.

Danny pulls up his pyjama bottoms and sits on the edge of his bed. Any minute now dad will walk through the door, hairbrush in hand. Eighteen years old and still being spanked by his dad.

Danny stands, crosses the small bedroom and closes the window. If his pal Kenneth next door ever found out, Danny would be a laughing stock. He paces the room.

Three steps one way and then he reaches the wall, turns round. Then six paces to the other wall. Why does dad do this to him, he wonders. Danny is an adult. He knows the answer. His way or the highway. Sassing his mother. This time she has had enough of it. Wait til your father gets home. The door bursts open. There is no polite knocking at the door. Dad snarls.

Mum has told him all about it. Danny steps back. His dad is huge, easily six-four. He towers over Danny. Poor lad s hardly five-six. Danny opens and closes his mouth, wanting to plead mitigation. But, he has no excuses. He is guilty as charged. Dad bares his teeth. His face a picture of fury. What is there to say? He has his back to the wall. There is no escape. Danny knows what he is expected to do. He carries the heavy chair and plonks it down so that its back rests against the wall.

There is just enough space in the room for dad to do his duty. Dad sits on the chair and peers at his son. He studies his bare feet, noticing his toenails need cutting. Dad clutches the hairbrush tightly. It is as if it was made for spanking. Dad is nearly ready. It might be but dad lives by traditional values. It is the duty of fathers to guide their sons through the choppy seas of life to adulthood.

Too many parents these days fail their children. They let them run wild. Give them no boundaries. And, look how they turn out. Not, Danny. Knight will not allow that. Danny looks from the ground and stares wide-eyed.

His father is huge and he is small. He has parted them wide to give his son the perfect platform for submission. The room is hot now the window is closed. His knees tremble a little. Danny draws in breath. Danny stares ahead of him, his shock of blond hair failing into his eyes. He concentrates on the poster of Manchester United that is stuck to his wall. He closes his eyes. Then opens them again.

Then closes them. Contemplating the agony to come. He feels dad grip the elasticated waistband of his pyjama bottoms. He knows dad always does this this but still a shockwave travels his body. This is too humiliating, he thinks. Having your bare bottom spanked. Dad pulls the pyjamas down just enough that two buttocks are exposed. He is nearly ready, but not quite. He is presented with an area of hairless flesh.

They were made to be spanked. They clench and unclench. They always do. Dad grips his son across the back with his left arm. Danny turns his head, trying to look over his shoulder at his dad, but the old man has him locked tightly. Then another strikes the right. Dad admires his handiwork.

The heavy hairbrush rises and falls. Dad continues to snarl as he whacks the brush on and on. Deliberately he smacks Danny across the back of the bare thighs. That gets his son howling. Danny is yelping with every whack that hammers into his bare bum, but he is not crying. He used to shed bucket loads when dad spanked him. Now, he has a higher level of self-control. It took a lot of practice.

He will not let dad see him cry, not today, not ever. Dad is strong, he can go on spanking all night long. There is no virgin flesh for dad to attack. So he goes round the circuit again, slapping his brush into already tender flesh. The top of the buttocks, the crest of the mounds, the tender under-curves and the thighs; none of it is missed. Sweat is soaking his pyjama jacket.

Suddenly, the door opens. Mum is standing watching her husband tan the tail of her son. She thinks dad is doing a good job. That will teach the brat not to be sassy in future. Dad steps over him and with his wife leaves the room. Danny struggles to his knees and then is fully standing. He dives onto his bed, buries his face in the pillow and sobs his guts up.

Picture credit: Does anyone know this artist? I see his work all over the Internet, but have never discovered his name. Like Like. Reply charleshamiltonthesecond October 14, at am Thanks for the tip, it might be a bit easier to find details on Google now. Reply Through the window Male on male spanking stories February 2, at am […] Wait til your father gets home […].

Her new one was like sitting on a hornets' nest. I got spanked. I didn't mind this and was happy to have the house to myself. Again, I told my parents that I am not interested and again the minister came around. I enjoyed this familiar, but well-written story. As a kid we knew that there were many implements used for spanking but somehow when we were in the presence of a single purpose implement we noticed it. I know for sure when it was over I was howling and hopping all over the rec room.

Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking. Blog Archive

Nothing inappropriate, just a spanking. I did get to witness my preacher's daughter her name was Stephanie get a bare bottom spanking from her mother out in their car. She and I were in the same Sunday School class we were both 11 and she was spending too much time giggling with her girlfriends to pay attention to the lessons and her mom was the teacher of our class.

She made her sit in a corner and told her she would deal with her after the class. I had to go out to my dad's car after Sunday School was over and while I was outside I got to see what her mom meant by "dealing" with her.

I heard Stephanie's voice pleading "no Mommy not here" and looked over and saw her mother sitting on the passenger's side with the door open. She was sitting with her legs outside of the car and Steph was standing in front of her I watched her reach under Stephanie's dress and then her panties were down around her ankles. I hid in the backseat trying not to be seen while I watched the drama unfold.

Steph was bent over her mom's knee and her dress raised. I was shocked to see her pale chubby bottom and then her mom started spanking her hard and fast, scolding her the whole time about acting like that in God's house.

A few moments later she let Stephanie up and she rubbed her bottom through her dress with her panties still down crying. Her mom told her to put her panties on and get ready for church. After they went in, I finally slipped out of our car and went in as well. She never knew what I witnessed. I was spanked by my parish priest once it was when I was at primary school and I was part of the choir.

On a friday afternoon we had a benediction service at the church round the corner. School finished after that so we took our bags with us to church and mine had a football in it. As we were leaving the ball fell out of my bag and started bouncing down the spiral stairs of the choir loft. Myself and a couple of friends set off after it and as I rounded the last corner the ball had come to rest next to our headmistress.

She was a very fierce woman and our looks of fear at the expression on her face were taken as proof of our "guilt" of playing football in church and we were in a world of trouble. I was handed over to my mother who was waiting to collect me with threats of punishment to come on Monday morning.

I spent the weekend in disgrace and was sent to bed early each night with a well-spanked bottom from mum. We were then taken to her office where we had bend over her desk for 12 whacks with a plimsole on our bare bottoms. We then dressed again and were escorted by our headmistress to the priests house where we were given a personalised sermon on sin and damnation he told us he was going to punish us and produced a strap we each got 4 strokes on the backs of our legs - 4 strokes on your bottom and as the "ringleader" I also got 2 whacks on each hand.

I don't think I had ever cried so much. This would be one I got when I was seven and we had another family, friends of my parents', staying for the weekend.

They had kids, two girls and boy, much of an age with Janna and I and we all loved it when they came to stay, or when we went to stay with them. It was Sunday lunch time, we were having a very traditional meal, the Sunday Roast, normally delicious, and one of the accompanying vegetables happened to be steamed cabbage. Green vegetables had recently become a bit of an issue with me, my mother could not be bothered to try and make me eat them, and as long as I ate plenty of fruit would let that go, my father believed not only that children should eat whatever was put in front of them, but also that they should have no say about what was put in front of them.

I muttered quietly that I didn't want any cabbage thank you, he glared me into silence and heaped a pile of cabbage on my plate. I decided not to make a fuss, but there was no way I was going to eat it, the smell of it was making me feel like gagging.

He did not say anything, just grabbed me by the shoulder and marched me up the stairs. I knew where I was being taken and what for, but this was one time when I didn't start creating merry hell on the way up there because I didn't want the other family to know what was going on - although obviously, they did!

Up in my bedroom, of course, he put me over his knee and gave me a spanking. I lost all my silent resolve as soon as I was over his knee, and did my usual performance during the spanking itself. I could not face the cabbage or my friends, I was so mortified that they had heard the entire spanking from the dining room where they were sitting was directly below my bedroom.

So I elected to stay upstairs and the others were forbidden to come and see me. I had to listen to them playing in the garden, but my father and I had reached a stalemate on this one.

He could not believe I would choose to eat nothing rather than eat a meal that included cabbage and as far as I was concerned, I would rather have starved. Eventually he came up and let me out of my room so I could play with the others, but I'd lost a couple of valuable hours by then, their sympathy embarrassed me, and I was furious with my father.

I didn't dare be rude to his face, but he was angry with me too, I avoided him and he had no desire to talk to me either. It was a really miserable day. That's the only time I remember being spanked for refusing to eat something, but as it wasn't the only time I refused, there were lots of stormy rows, and other punishments, having to stand in the kitchen for hours staring at a plate of cabbage I wasn't permitted to leave until I had eaten - I remember quietly dropping some cabbage in a pair of wellington boots once and disposing of it later, also dropping some behind the washing machine on another occasion.

I also remember being scared when we went to other people's houses as guests or to restaurants as a family in case some unannounced vegetable was going to be sprung on me and my dad would be coldly furious until I had choked it down.

Being scared of food hung on until long after I was in my teens. I had an "interest" in spanking for as long as I can remember. My earliest memory is from age 4. I don't think I understood it not that I do now either!

One of the things I used to do to satisfy my curiousity was at sleep-overs. I still remember every single answer from every girl who was spanked. I remember pleading to keep my panties up when I was going to get a spanking and mom said "Your panties didn't do anything wrong.

I was one who had to 'try out' the teachers to see how they would react. My friend Jenny was often an accomplice. On one such occasion when Jenny and I were sent out of the classroom for generally baiting the teacher. We got a fit of the giggles and were sent out. We were in a very silly mood and played around in the corridor. Unfortunately we were caught by the head who happened to be on her rounds and we both got the slipper.

Now we'd only had a slippering from the games teacher about a couple of weeks before for messing around in the changing rooms when we were not supposed to be there so here was another painful experience. As we left the head's office rubbing two sore bottoms Jenny said to me, 'Ouch! I think I'll order an armour plated bottom for Christmas. I had several public spankings growing up.

I was spanked in our car at a drive in restaurant the kind where a girl wearing roller skates brought your order. I was 6 I think. I was spanked in the outer area of the ladies restroom in a department store in Traverse City MI when I was 6 or 7. I was spanked in the living room in a small apartment over a small mom and pop type store after I stole a comic from the store when I was 9.

Each of those spankings was from my mother with non-family witnesses, and like virtually all of my spankings, were bare bottom. Oh yes, a grandparents' job is to spoil not parent. I remember when our daughter threw a fit at the table when my folks were visiting, my husband marched her off to the bedroom from whence came the sounds of a much-deserved spanking.

My father murmered, "Don't be too hard on her! It took place at a lake and we kids had been warned about horsing around near the lake shore. I don't remember exactly how it happened but I and the minister's daughter fell into the water. It was only knee high so we climbed out easily but our clothes were muddy and soaked. I got the blame and mom marched me to an open picnic table, stood me on the top and began removing my wet clothes.

I begged her not to remove my underwear but to no avail. When those came off, she sat herself on the table top, put me across her lap and spanked me soundly. When my spanking was over, she grabbed my arm and took me to our car which overlooking the picnic area. She put me naked in the backseat of the car and then laid my wet clothes on the hood of the car to dry in the sun. I spend the rest of the time watching the picnic from the backseat of our car.

A boy came up to the car at one point and I slid up against the door so he couldn't see me below my shoulders. He had brought me a cupcake and we talked a bit. Other kids then came up, but they came to tease me and came up both sides of the car, making it impossible for me to block their view from both sides at the same time. Finally their parents saw what was going on and chased them away. It showed a picture of a fawn being followed by a bear cub and perhaps because of this, I didn't get the pun just as you said, BD.

I suspect one or both of us had been pestering Mom or our aunt about all the presents being for the baby. My aunt gave another wrapped present to my mom and said, "This one can be for all of you.

Did anyone else have a very different feeling when you were around a spanking implement that had no other "reason for being" than spanking? As a kid we knew that there were many implements used for spanking but somehow when we were in the presence of a single purpose implement we noticed it.

It induced an eerie presence. I got a spanking off my piano teacher when I was ten. I had a habit of being late for her lesson and forgetting my music and she threatened me if I did it again she'd put me over her knee. I didn't take the threat too seriously until one day I was late because I had stopped to talk with some other girls on my way from school and had also forgotten my piece of music I was praticing.

She said, "I think you need another sort of lesson today," and put me over her knee and prodeeded to warm my bottom. The lesson continued with me sitting on a sore behind. I never forgot my music again. As my mum used to say, "Children have their brains in funny places! I went camping with her and her folks when I was about We went somewhere we shouldn't and got covered in mud. And Jenny lost a shoe which her father had to go and find. Jenny's Mum was real mad at us and put Jenny straight over her knee and spanked her.

Then she looked at me and said, "Well, I supposed you'd better have one too! My neighbour Anna and I would copy the spankings we got from our parents as a game. It must be exact, so with bare bottom and same number of smacks but of course not too hard but enough to make a sting. We also with two other friends from our block played games of mama and naughty children, we took turns to be mama and we gave and received spankings usually on bare bottoms but sometimes with underwear.

We were girls only and we played from age of about to 6 to 11 years old. My cousins and I played "house" or "family" as kids. My boy cousin was the oldest, so he made the rules. I was next youngest and his two sisters were younger than me. Somehow no matter what went on in our play, we girls always managed to get spanked for some often very flimsy reasons! He didn't spank hard, I suppose for fear his sisters would tell on him, but as for me, I would never have told!

He often spanked us on our bare bottoms. I don't recall that he was EVER on the receiving end. It was not 'completely' unfair, although still very much unfair. It was past "good spanking age", but it was one of the first ever I remember. The only time I can recall being unfairly spanked when I was 11 or However this one evening I had wanted to go out with some friends but was told I could not as I had not finished the dishes. My parents went to the store for 30 mins to pick up a few things and left me instructions to complete the dishes.

When they came baqck they walked into a mess. I was ushered upstairs without a chance to explain and quickly find myself over my mothers lap with my bare backside exposed and getting spanked with a wooden spoon. Some time in my room later with my feelings hurt, my backside on fire it was discovered the family dog had jumped onto the counter and knocked said pot over Totally unfair and humiliated I was.

Well, it wasn't me getting the spanking that was unfair, it was my little brother and by my Aunt. We were at her house for a week and were told a million times not to cross the small river behind the house. One day after being bored beyond belief, my brother and I decided to go under the bridge. We had to wade into the river a little, then go under it.

We were looking for who knows what. I don't remember. While under there, and playing around, like we shouldn't have, some kid was on the bridge and dropped a not too big, and not too small of a rock off the bridge on purpose.

It landed on my brothers head and caused a gash along with him crying. Well, I figured we're both toast on this one. It's hard to hide blood gushing out of a head wound. The kid had to get stitches in his head, and when he got home, my Aunt hauled him over her lap and spanked him bare with a hairbrush. Now, why she didn't haul me over her lap too, I'm not sure.

I don't think that was fair for my brother to get punished after getting his head bashed and having to get stitches. She should have let it be. Why I never got a spanking or even got a lecture is beyond me. Since that day, I don't talk to that lady beyond a hi.. When i was 10 years old i toke my 4y old Sister in trouble and a totally wrongfully spanking. A week before my Mum told me that i have to "babysit" my Sister and play with her while Mum and Dad recondition a room in our house.

I dont have desire to it and let my littel sister play allone look at a TV show and ignored her when she ask me to play with her or whatever. Our parents have a rule about inside and outsite games there we now exactly but my siser was boringly and so she walk in our room, pic up a tennis racket and throw with a tennisball.

First only in our room and than in the floor. I hear it in this moment but it was to late, she throw the ball in the mirror and broke him in thousend pieces. Oh what a fright, i run out of the livingroom but to late, mum and dad were first at the place of this happening. OK a long writing for a simple fakt, we got it both and not only a mum or dad spanking. No we got it both from Mum and Dad.

I felt it totaly unfar that i got a spanking to and not only my sister i was the opinion that she have the debt alone but nothing what i say could protect my bum. Oh i was so angry about my littel sister and so mutch self-pity with myself. I want rage and so one week later i see a opportunity to sold her back was she broke me in.

At this day my sister play with a friend in the garden in the backyard from our house. Dad was in his sports club and mum was in the kitchen. My sister ask my mum an hour early whethere it might drive by scooters with her friend. Mum allowed is togethere with the warning not to drive with the scooters in front of our carport. You must know that at the left side beside the carport we have a littel place to ride bike or scooter enclose from a small fence.

Our car parket in an open garage under our house and the way there was steep. Ok i hear was mum say and wait for a while, mum goes in the kitchen and let me in allone and so i see my chance.

I go out, look at my sister and see that both she and her friend was deep concentrated in her games. I was very evil on this day, i go in the front of our house, grab the scooter from my sister and pressed and scratched him at the front from our car, than i do the same with the trycicle who was used from her friend.

I put both back at the fence and walk back in very quietly. Later on this day ou dad come home and he see what was happend. It was a Drama, he shout at mum, mum shout at my sister. Than both shout at my sister and told her not to lie than it was clear that she was it.

Than dad pomise my sister the slipper and told mum that she spank her first with the wooden spoon wich mum did and not to less. Dad in this time walk down the street to tell the parents of my sisters girfriend she was at her home at this time whats going on and that both girls have damage our car. As he came back he grab my crying littel sister and carrie her without a word in the sleeping room from our parents. Than she got her first spanking with a slipper from our dad and she cry soooo loud :- We dont got it often from both mum and dad and two double spankings i one week.

My poor littel sister. I had a bad certain but i hold my mouth closed. A couple of days later has i experiences that also the friend of my sister got a spanking.

I feelt so guilty but i dont say a word. With increasing age, spankings became rare. I was acutely aware that my older sibs had no vision, but good sound.

I was a wiry girl, well built, not squeamish and quite resistant to pain. But on my bare bottom, the sting kept building up and his hand kept hitting me always harder till it got me and it hurt, excuse me the language, goddamn too much. When my sibling's spanking was over and if necessary mom had them turn to me and she told them to "Tell you sister your sorry for With hands on their freshy spanked bottoms they would turn and through tears and sniffles tell me they were sorry.

I always felt that it was truly spoken. Although I never really thought too much about it, having witnessed them get it and hearing their apology seemed to make it right. I know when it was my turn and I apologized, I felt sorry for what I had done. I attended a small parochial school one class per grade. My eighth grade teacher was an ardent anti smoker. During one of his diatribes he stated that after he caught one of his daughters smoking, he pulled her panties down and spanked her.

Williams had three daughters, Susan and Sally, twins aged 8, and Janet age 12 and a classmate! Janet turned beet red as all eyes focused on her. She was teased unmercifully for days.

I felt sorry for her and told her I was also subject to spankings as did several others. This little clique of "still spanked kids" formed and we were all close even when we went to high school. The neighboring farm kids had a switch available. There were 4 boys and two girls at their farm.

Well, being spanked with my mom's hand on the bare was nothing like these kids got with that switch. I was always frightened to go there after witnessing one of the younger girls about age 8 get a whipping with that thing. I was shocked and very scared at the time. To this day I still don't know what Karen did.

Her dad just grabbed that switch and her and whaled on her backside about ten times. It had to have hurt. It was summer and she was wearing shorts. There was only one time I got a spanking that "didn't really hurt", which was the one time in my life that my grandmother spanked me. I would have been quite little, maybe six or seven, I'd been left with my grandmother for the morning while my mother took my younger sister to the clinic, I think, and I was behaving like an absolute brat.

It was so sudden I didn't really have time to go free-falling into the usual panic I got into when I was told I was going to be spanked. Of course it stung, but not as much as it did when my parents spanked me, and though I burst into tears with the first smack, and wailed as usual, I had to reflect, seconds later, when it ended as abruptly as it begun, that actually, compared to what it could have been had it been Mum or Dad wielding that hairbrush, that I had got off easy. I was about nine yo.

She stood me up and said "Now what have you to say? Wrong answer. She tugged my jeans and underwear down and repeated my spanking. From then on all my spankings were on my bare bottom!

My best friend growing up we still communicate over Facebook got a lot of spankings from both her parents. I don't think they were abusive but she just got spanked for doing anything wrong. She didn't seem to fear her parents but did get scared if we did something "bad" or were "disobedient" that she might get caught.

I was only at her house once when she got spanked by her mom. I didn't see it but my ears told me it was bare bottom with her mother's hand. It didn't go on for long but I could hear her crying so I knew it hurt. I think my friend Sara's parents spanked her and her siblings a lot. Anyway, Sara and I were very good friends in primary school up to age 11 here in the UK. One time when I was little I finally got my friend and my friend's sister to talk about how they got spanked.

They said their mom spanked them with a belt and their dad with his hand, always on their bare bottoms. But I guess their mom was kind of small and weak. She sure didn't strike me like that when I was little though! She was usually very nice, but if she was ticked off she could be the one of the scariest persons I knew.

When I met her years later she seemed like such a nice kind church lady and if you met her you'd probably think "she couldn't hurt a fly. Doing something really bad, getting in trouble at school, misbehaving at church, doing something bad and then lying about it, or repeating the same misbehavior too often, usually meant getting it on your bare bottom. My mom often threatened us with spankings, but if she really wanted to make sure we understood she'd threaten us with a bare bottom spanking.

One of my girlfriends had a younger sister who was a brat and she was always getting into some kind of trouble at home. She was about 9 when we were about 12 or One time I was at her house and her sister was told to do something repeatedly and did not do it.

Finally her mother said your getting spanked and told us to come into the kitchen with her where she pulled a chair away from their table sat down on it and took my friend's sister to her side.

With her promising to be good and saying she didn't want to get spanked, pulled her pants down and took her over her lap and gave her 12 smacks with the paddle. When she was done she stood my friend's sister up, pulled her pants up and made her go stand in the corner.

My girlfriend told me her sister got spanked a lot. My girlfriend also told me that she too got the paddle but nowhere near as often as her sister. I started getting paddled I believe around age 7 or so.

Once when I was at the age when parents used the term "your getting a little too big for your britches" I was expected to dry the dishes while my Mom washed them but I protested to this with just a touch of sass.

Mom's response "you have been slacking on your chores, you left your room a mess and I have heard too much attitude from your mouth as of late, what you NEED is a spanking with my paddle" I was stunned and straightaway apologized and said I would gladly dry the dishes. But my fate was sealed and she believed without any doubt I needed a spanking.

So she got her big paddle and ordered me to place my hands on the counter. I hesitated and she said " now or you'll lower those blue jeans" I obeyed. She welded that paddle well, using both hands and after 3 smacks I was with tears in my eyes and she asked me if I was learning a lesson.

Yes I replied and another smack landed. I got maybe 8 or 9 and was crying good. I did not "need" a spanking for some time after that. A spanking should be hard enough to cause "genuine tears of pain". I remember reading those words in a parenting book my mom got from church.

If your spanking wasn't producing the desired reaction their spanks would get harder until it did. I knew there was no point in holding back and sometimes I tried to exaggerate how much it hurt me. But I think they had a good idea of how much pain they had to inflict to make us cry for real and feel very sorry about what we did.

The only teacher who spanked me at school was MY DAD!! He was headmaster at my primary school and me and 3 other girls were sent to him for the slipper. We each got 4 whacks and we all cried. I'm sure he whacked me harder than the other girls but that's probably just my imagination. It was the only time he ever spanked me, at home it was always mum who gave me my spankings. It was my Mum we had really to look out for and who set the tone of discipline in our home.

I never resented this not for long, any way as she was always utterly fair or tried to be. This all fell apart one day when he had us for a weekend when Mum was away.

I wanted to stay out late and we had an argument and I was so rude that he lost it and I ended up over his knee for a right bottom warming. There were hugs and kisses after but Mum was rightly triumphant when she came home. She'd usually send you to her small office and tell you to get her slipper out and stand and wait for her in the corner.

After what seemed like ages, she would come in, give you a lecture and then make you bend over her knee for her slipper on your bottom. Then she made you stand in the corner for a couple of minutes with your hands on your head, after which you'd get a hug and told to be a good girl in future and then sent back to the classroom rubbing a sore bottom. Sometimes if she was teaching she'd just stand you in the corner of the classroom and then you'd go over her knee in front of the class for a few smacks with her hand.

Of course, when we had her as a regular teacher, it wasn't that uncommon to see a child over her knee in front of the class, me included! One girl at my primary school seemed to get a couple of spankings every week and would always tell us about it. I slept over at her house once and witnessed one spanking, it was mild, maybe four slaps over her bathers.

I would have got the same but I lied to her mum and said my parents didn't believe in spanking Full co-operation was an expectation and I was always totally compliant when I was going to get spanked. There didn't seem any point in doing otherwise so I'd take my knickers off and crawl across my mum's knee - or, in later years, bend over my bed - without protestation.

When my spanking actually started and it hurt, I would involuntarily wriggle my bottom and kick my legs but I think my main objective was to get the whole painful business over as quickly as possible. I don't think I was spanked any harder on these occasions but I once overheard my dad tell my mum to "Make sure she feels it! I used to look up "spanking" and its synonyms all the time as a little girl in dictionaries and thesauruses.

I thought I was possibly the only one who did so. I saw one parenting book on my Mom's nightstand and would sneak in to look at it. It had a drawing and description of a method much worse than what my parents did - which was hand over clothes.

Her book advocated over the knee with your parent's right leg over your legs to pin them down in such a way that you would be completely immobilized. Very scary looking. After seeing that, I worried that my parents were going to change to that method. So I definitely worried about that and did my best to behave.

My Mom didn't have a hairbrush with a flat back, but my Dad did have a clothes brush with a long handle that I would get a nervous feeling when I saw it, even though I was never so much as threatened with it. I can't help but wonder if Mom left her parenting book where it was easy to find so that I would behave better.

I wasn't banned from entering their room. I was an advanced reader who often borrowed her Reader's Digest Condensed books as young as age 9. At my private girls school in the UK during the early 's any teacher could smack any girl in front of the class if that girl was misbehaving. The smackings did not have to be recorded or witnessed by any other teacher. As for the maximum number of smacks that could be administered at any one time I do not believe there were any limits set.

However at my particular school teachers females only of course were only allowed to smack girls with an open hand. No implements of any kind were permitted. Some girls were also smacked across their bottom skirt raised. There is no doubt that my senior gym mistress would win the gold medal when it came to sorting out naughty girls. She did not need much encouragement to leave her hand prints on the back of your bare upper thighs.

I was pretty uncooperative during my spankings, but my parents demanded a degree of cooperation anyway. During the spanking I would kick and struggle at least to begin with, although my father in particular was usually quite quick to make kicking impossible by pinning my ankles down with his leg.

I always tried to cover my bottom with my hand. If I did not "move that hand! The time I got a second spanking later the same day for not heeding the "one warning Bri" to move my hand, I could hardly believe it was going to happen. It was hours later, close to bed time, so my bottom wasn't still hurting from the first one, but I was a wreck when I was told to go upstairs to my room. I think my mother felt that she could not go back on the 'promise', maybe she felt that I wouldn't respect her if she did, I don't know.

It wasn't a hard or long one, I know she went easier on me, she did tell me years later that on the one or two occasions when she spanked me twice in one day she always felt miserable about 'having to' do it. I have to say that I didn't find that very comforting! I think she found being a mother to a lively tomboy who seemed to her very defiant, very difficult.

With regard to "the second spanking always works! I never was required to bare my own bottom. But, one of my girl friends used to pull her underpants back up each time her mom would pull them down. She got extras for this but, according to her, she couldn't help it. I thought that was strange but she was very uncooperative. She once got it with a belt and when the time presented itself, she took the belt she was spanked with and cut it into short segments, each one too short for spanking.

I was impressed with her nerve. I can sort of imagine doing that with a switch since they were free but doing it with a purchased item of clothing -- amazing. I think answering back is why I so love so-called difficult or spoiled children.

They have a "mouth. I feel deep solidarity with them and what I admire in anyone is often labelled "rebellion" but in my mind it is just legitimate application of the "Question Authority" recommendation. So much of human progress, especially in business, and even in golf, comes from innovation and the rejection of the "conventional" wisdom.

Maybe we are all writing in this forum in English rather than in German because of a couple of innovations in the design of the Hurricane and the Spitfire aircraft!

Their guns were sighted at yards rather than and their engines used the higher octane fuel. So, before parents paddle their brats, reflect on where innovation comes from. It doesn't come from obeisance to tradition and convention. Even obedience has its limits -- remember our complaints about the officers on trial at Nuremburg.

We charged them with not rebelling. I was pretty cooperative when I got spanked, especially when I was older because I usually asked mom to spank me instead of being grounded. When I was younger though I would try to run away when mom got the paddle, because I knew how much it hurt.

It never worked and I still ended up getting spanked, but I did try to get away. My last spanking came near the end of the school year. I came home one day from school with a detention slip. Detention at school meant spanking at home. So, I went for Mom, thinking she would take it easy on me. While I felt I was too old, I did not feel like getting into an argument with her over the issue. So, I went to her and said, "Mom, I have a problem.

I got detention in school and we both know we that means. I guess I deserve it. However, I was hoping that it would put her in a gentle mood. We went up stairs and she sat down on the bed. I did my best to cooperate. I dropped my skirt and got over her knee. I thought it was going to be an easy spanking. It was not - she gave me a hard bare bottom spanking. I never got spanked at Sunday school nor heard anyone getting it there.

But the Sunday school class where I went was, like the whole church, very spanking promoting. My folks got involved with one of these charismatic fundamental parishes. There was even a paddle for parental use in a church back room and I remember some parents taking their bad behaving kids down there in the middle of the service for "a correction".

I never saw the paddle because that time dad was travelling on weekdays and at home practically only on Sundays. I ususally got spanked on Sundays - after church dad drove me home where my correction was administered - with a belt. Then we joined the others at church picnic and then I had my Sunday class to go. So I became a regular church goer. There was a Sunday school class on afternoons that my parens wanted me to participate.

I hated the class and wanted to be somewhere else instead of sitting for hours in a boring class room wearing a white dress discussing about subjects like "how to be a better person and how should parents correct by not sparing the rod" - I guess the teacher there was spanking-curious: I never shared my spankings with outsiders, It was too embarrassing.

Pretty inappropriate from this teacher! I only went there about a dozen of times or less, fortunately my parents did not force me to. I was at my Aunt's house a few weeks ago, and she told me a story of her and my mom when they were kids. And yes, my Grandmother spanked bare and with a paddle.

Apparantly they were out past dinner time. They were warned like three times before already. And my Aunt said that they were playing and lost track of time. When they realized what time it was, they were nervous to go home. My Aunt said that my Grandmother was waiting for them with the paddle in her hand with her arms crossed. Then, she took each one at a time, raised their dress, bared them and paddled them good.

My Aunt is 85 years old and was laughing while telling the story. She brought it up, I didn't even ask. We were talking about some dishes of her grandmothers that she had and had broken one. That's how the story came up. No, she didn't get a spanking for breaking the dish. It was an accident. At least three times growing up I accidentally was present right after a friend had been spanked. In one of the three cases, I was actually in the room but in the other two cases, I came upon the recipient right after the spanking.

It was such a feeling of helplessness. There was nothing you could do. And, equally hard, there seemed to be nothing you could say. In all three cases, I could so identify with the person since all three were rubbing their bottoms through their clothes. We knew that it was considered impolite to touch your bottom but somehow having just been spanked trumped that rule of ettiquette! If anything, the last two spankings I got were scarier now that I was older, because what I was being spanked for was direct, conscious disobedience, and both I and my mother knew it.

When I was 13, and got my ears pierced after weeks of arguing and stressing about it, I knew, as I walked out of the shop with my earlobes smarting that once I got home they were not going to be the only things that were smarting! As I sat on the bus on the way home with my friend, I knew exactly what was going to happen, and was already regretting having done it - not the actual piercing, I thought the earrings looked great, so at least I was happy about that; but I had the whole bus ride to get myself into a state of panic about what was going to happen to me for what I had done.

And of course, because every spanking was pure hell, it was exactly as bad as I had thought it would be. With the spanking that turned out to be the last one I ever got, a few months later, just after my fourteenth birthday, that I have posted about elsewhere on this forum when I went to the arcades at the beach where I was forbidden to go just in order to flirt a bit and hang out with the kind of boys my parents didn't want me to know I was feeling pretty happy because I thought I had got away with it, until the mother of the friend I had gone with, who drove me home mentioned that my mother had called.

At that point I knew I was doomed and again, there was that freefall into aboslute terror. I knew how strongly my mother felt about it, and that the spanking I was certainly about to get would illustrate the strength of her feelings! It did, of course, and I think that was the hardest and longest one I ever got. I suppose there are those that would argue that since it was the last one I ever got, that it worked! The summer I turned 12 a family with 6 kids moved next door to us.

They had a girl my age with two older and three boys younger. My mom commented to the neighbor how well her kids behaved and asked her how she managed to keep so many in line. Of course, the answer was consistent rules with follow through with spankings if the rules were violated. Later that same day, she spanked Vivian, the girl who was my age while I was over there.

My "last" spanking swats with my mom's hand on my pantied seat had been declared by my mom to have happened when I was 8, so I was pretty sure that I would never "get it" again. I was a bit on the mouthy side and lied to my mom frequently. I believe on some level I wanted to see if my mom still cared. Within a week of my mom's conversation with our neighbor, I started getting spanked again.

She talked about it openly and never threatened without carrying out my spanking. My bottom was always bared and she used first her hand then followed up with a leather strap. When my sister got spanked and I didn't, I would usually feel sorry for her while it was happening and right after. I knew from my own experience that the pain afterwards didn't really last all that long, but in my house the person being spanked was always left on their own afterwards for a while to calm down before the parent who had given the spanking went back in to talk and hug better.

During that time, no one else was allowed to visit - when they emerged, the episode was deemed to be closed, but the 'victim' always remained emotionally fragile for a couple of hours at least if it was my sister, longer if it was me! So when my sister was allowed back downstairs and it was all over, I would try to be nice to her without mentioning the spanking. Once I remember yelling at her, "Of course it did, you moron!

We were his little darlings, and experienced in winding him around our little fingers But my mother was still higher in the rankings, and she was seriously strict with her girls. In theory, she was my father's humble servant sorry girls, that's the way it was , in practice she ran the family and was the undisputed boss. If my mother 'proposed' a spanking, my dad considered it his holy duty to give that spanking.

He was rarely directly concerned in the misdeeds, and therefore not angry. But he was a warm, passionate man, deeply in love with my mother. It was wonderful to be a cherished girl of two loving parents. But when getting spanked, this turned seriously sour. By scolding us and trying to explain why we needed that spanking, he got upset and convinced of the need 'to teach us a good, hard lesson', as every childish misdeed became an insult to our mother. For his girls he only used his hand, but it was a heavy hand and he was a strong man.

Till the day of today, I still ask myself if he knew how much his spankings hurt. We never thought about the fact that the flimsy wood beneath us could have given way at any moment, as he said, both before and after spanking my bottom with the slipper. Another time that really made him mad was when I decided to try my new roller skates inside the house because it was raining outside.

If I had broken any of them she would have been beside herself, and what Dad said when he caught me red-handed was "You're lucky your mother didn't see you doing that!

That time I got the spanking with the hairbrush while still wearing the roller skates - a bit of a one off, that one! I always thought my dad was a bit of the reluctant to spank in our house - maybe it was having girls. However, he did his duty when required albeit reluctantly. I had been told not to go to a certain place as it was dangerous, but I went anyway with a bunch of young children as part of a gang. Unfortunately I had a bright red dress on and was easily identified.

When I got home, mum and dad questioned me about where I'd been and told me that a young girl in the red dress had been seen in this forbidden place that afternoon.

I had never seen dad so angry and I bolted up to my room and hid under the bed. He followed closely and grabbed me and pulled me out by the foot. I then got the full treatment over his knee - my bottom was red as my dress by the time he finished spanking me and I had to sit on a cushion to eat my tea.

I think it sticks in the mind because there was real fear for my safety as well as anger that disobeyed him. In spite of a very sore bottom I somehow knew I was loved! I thought that would be an easy touch and proposed I stayed out much later than usual.

However, he was firmer than I thought and we had a big argument in which I ended up being rude to him. To my horror he grabbed me and took me to the chair which was used for spanking. I plead with him to spank me but he said, "You're getting a spanking right now so let's get it over with! Funny, but we had hugs and kisses afterwards and I spent some time sitting on his lap, sore bottom and all! When mum came home she was quite smug that dad had spanked me.

I think she felt vindicated. I must say I deserved them all! When I was growing up, we lived down the street from my aunt and uncle and their 4 kids. All but one of these cousins all girls were older than I was.

They all got spanked. I was not spanked from but started getting spanked again at 13 after a new neighbor and my mom had a talk about the necessity of spanking sassy teens. At age 8 I was teasing my oldest cousin 14 about getting a spanking that morning when I was over at her house.

She grew tired of the teasing and said I must need a spanking myself if I was so interested in hers. I kept teasing hoping she would spank me. Finally, she took me behind their garage, held me over her lap, pulled down my shorts and panties and spanked me "like she got it. Her sis 12 heard us and came over to see what the noise was about. She spanked me a few spanks.

By then I was crying and said I would be good since I got a spanking. There were times I knew I deserved a spanking and would ask to play the game so I could get one. Once I had broken a special family heirloom plate and had lied to my mom about it. I felt very guilty about it and knew I should be punished.

I confessed about the plate and the lie to my mom. I really needed her to spank me, but she sent me to my room and took away privileges for two days.

Two days later, when I was allowed to go out, I acted like a brat "asking" for a spanking from my cousin and she paddled my behind hard with lots of witnesses. That helped with the guilt over the plate.

We played these games for a few years. Other friends joined in. Only girls were allowed to spank girls but there was a time boys watched me get spanked bare with my aunt's paddle.

No one ever caught us since we were always careful to pick private spots and were left on our own to play outside for large amounts of time. The spanking games with my friends were best when I was between All 5 of us were about the same age, but we played games where the losers of games were spanked and "house" where the "naughty kids" were spanked. I was always one of the kids and used to lose games on purpose so I would be on the receiving end of a bottom warming. The spankings were over the knee with panties down and were actually hard enough to make me cry in some cases.

I am having a good grin over a mental image of a parent testing a spanking implement on themselves - I also think that people who decide to spank their kids with whatever it was they were spanked with twenty years or so down the line after they were last spanked themselves, might give it a try, too - it might given them a different perspective about what, and how much is necessary!

My sister has spanked her kids, but while she and I were spanked with the slipper and the hairbrush, she has insisted that she will only ever use her hand, as she believes that is enough.

Our mother disagrees! But then, she would! I don't think my mother would have classified a spanking AS a real spanking unless it had been bare bottom - and yes, of course, that was how she had been spanked herself as a kid.

I don't think I ever really thought there was any other way myself, until the day my grandmother spanked me just once in my whole life and was kind enough to leave my knickers in place! The day it happened, I was only about six, and my grandmother had never even hinted before that day that she might ever spank me. I must have been driving her nuts that day! When one of my parents spanked me at home, I was always sent upstairs to my bedroom. With my grandmother no such order came, she merely left the living room for a few moments and returned with hairbrush in hand and a meaningful look on her face!

I had no idea I was about to be spanked until she grabbed me, sat down and hauled me over her lap, and therefore no time to get hysterical, and that made a big difference.

At that point, I started creating merry hell as usual, of course, but though she raised my skirt she didn't lower or remove my knickers, and I had a nano-second for the thought "phew, at least I've still got my knickers" to flash across my mind before the first spank landed.

She spanked hard my mother had to have learned from somewhere! So the difference IS mental, but in those spanking situations, the psychology was a huge, huge factor. Even when my mother's hairbrush was doing nothing but brush my hair, I still hated it every time I looked at it. The other day I was in the local pharmacy in the 'hair' section choosing some pony-tail bands for my daughter and saw a rack full of hairbrushes that looked very similar to my mother's "Mark 2" version and couldn't help shuddering!

I don't know why though. One time I remember him spanking me with the hairbrush was for roller skating inside the house - my skates were new, but it was pouring with rain outside and I couldn't resist it.

He found me skating in the kitchen, told me off and told me to go and take the skates off as well. I was on my way to do that when I passed the main downstairs room, which was a sort of large sitting-dining room combined. All the furniture had been pushed back against the wall because the wooden floor had just been polished, and it was so inviting.

I was a pretty good skater, it wasn't my plan to go tearing round the room crashing into things and breaking my mother's ornaments and I was completely confident that I wouldn't crash. We never found out whether I would have or not, because I'd only done a couple of rounds when he caught me at it. Still in the skates, I was half dragged up the stairs and he kind of propelled me into my room with an instruction to "stay there!

I don't know why he sometimes used the hairbrush instead of the slipper, maybe he was just mad and in a hurry and it was the first thing to hand - I suppose I will never know. I only got it with the hand or hairbrush and I did not like the hairbrush. Mom knew how to use it and my bottom got deep heat from it many times and my panties were always pulled down, my sister and brother got it bare too.

Every time I saw the hairbrush I would cringe and start sniffling and pleading not to be spanked, to no avail though. I got spanked. Dad usually did it the same way as mum - across his knee, bare backside, with his hand or the back of a brush.

Dad certainly spanked harder than mum, but it also always felt as though we'd hurt his feelings, having to punish his little princesses. With mum, spanking was just another routine chore, like doing the ironing. My best friend Jenny and I often used to share sleepovers together. We would discuss our latest spankings before we went to sleep. I remember one time we had both gotten a detention that day and had been duly spanked by our respective mothers. We compared to see who's bottom was the reddest.

We also played a spanking game when our school reports came out where she who came first in a subject could give the other one three smacks on her bottom and an extra smack for each 10 marks she'd beat the other by. Detentions were also mentioned on the report and they got us three smacks each although we'd already have been spanked by our mothers.

We thought it was great fun but I can't think why. If my cousins stayed the night we often talked about being spanked, epecially the girls. We sometimes ended up playing a spanking game too.

My friend Jenny and I found sleepovers at her house a good time for playing our end-of-term spanking game so we tried to time them accordingly. I don't know whether our parents knew what was going on but it was all very innocent. Getting spanked over the knee was quite a natural thing in our house. Browse via our astounding choice of porn movies in HD splendid on any device you personal.

I want to know why does it matter being a boy that my stepson says she has to spank me using diaper position nude. I have a 14 year old stepson. I only use diaper position for him. I want him to be a good example for both his younger sisters. I am a girl and when i was 15 i finially made my First Holy Communion with the 2nd graders. My parents,along with my great aunt and gramma,dressed me like the little girls in a poofy,short sleeve,top of the knees communion dress with matching veil,lace socks and white mary jane shoes and under my dress they had me wear a white tee shirt and toddler size plastic pants[aka-rubberpants] like the little girls wear.

An hour and a half before we left,i started a fight with my 13 year old brother and hit him in the stomach! I was taken to my room by mom and dad and dad took off his belt. I had to lay over his lap,mom brought my communion dress up and dad wacked me 5 times on my butt as hard as he could and having the toddler rubberpants on made the pain much worse!

Sunday, 7 July New Dad An ageplay story. Anonymous 8 April at Becky Iannarone 8 November at Becky 8 November at Anonymous 31 May at Anonymous 5 September at Anonymous 29 December at Anonymous 11 April at Kimberly Fitzgerald 18 January at Ken H. Anonymous 24 July at

A Hard Hairbrushing from His Daddy, Gay Porn 6a: xHamster

Audrey was beside herself with anger. After all it had always been her that disciplined their son Ryan who at 22 years old is still put across her lap and spanked when she decides he needs to be. Jeffrey has never shown any inclination to deal with their son. She knew he had an erection when he watched her spank Ryan and was particularly amorous that night but she thought he was just trying to cheer her up.

Now she thought differently and was going to speak to Jeffrey when he got home to clear the air. Ryan came home first from work. He had been out for lunch with the lads and was still in party mood.

Not drunk but just loud. Too loud for Audrey, and when he is boisterous he also becomes short and abrasive, and was again today. Jeff looked across at his son, then back at his wife, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then undid his trousers and pushed them down to the floor, stepping out of them. Jeff knew he had conceded control so albeit reluctantly put his fingers around the waistband of his pants and pulled them down, stepping out of them.

Jeff nodded, realising his Wife meant it, that he should have asked. The family watch when a spanking occurs. We may have reckoned that would just be Ryan, but hey ho, the same applies to you. Now get over and be quick about it or I might get a switch from the garden and really make you suffer. No, he was looking at his Mum. Maybe that was why he had an erection. It was then he realised he too had an erection. Fantastic he thought.

He really was turned on. There was a kinship. They both had erections thinking about being spanked by the same woman. Audrey saw them look at each other and she too smiled. She enjoyed having the power to discipline Ryan. She loved making him suffer, but only of course when he deserved it.

It stung. The next spank stung his other bottom cheek, and the next stung his first bottom cheek again. On and on, spank after spank, Audrey was causing Jeff quite some discomfort.

She stopped after a while, what seemed like an age to Jeff whose bottom was now stinging, and rubbed his bottom and the tops of his thighs. Her hand was soft, and the movement erotic. He parted his legs and Audrey rubbed the inside of his thighs. This was so good. He looked across at his son and saw shock on his face, watching his Mum fondle his Dad was not what he wanted to see and Jeff felt suitably embarrassed. She was enjoying herself. How Jeff had winced when watching Audrey spank Ryan with the hairbrush, and now he was going to find out first hand what it was like.

The very first spank told him enough. Yikes it hurt. Not as much as the second spank, nor as much as any of the rest. Audrey stopped spanking him with the hairbrush and when Jeff stopped sobbing so he heard speaking.

Jeff wondered how she could say that to their son, not so Jeff could hear. Spanked in front of his son and his wife was joking about it. How could she?

Then he realised. Audrey was rubbing his bottom and his thighs as his legs were again apart. He had an erection again.

Maybe it was the same one. Maybe the first one never went but the erection told him what he needed to know. She was rubbing his thighs and his balls, and his erection was pressing down on her thighs. His son was watching his wife rub his balls. She must know Ryan was watching.

Must do. She will know it will humiliate him. Still she did it, and he knew why. It will show both of them how in charge Audrey was. Of course. That was part of it. Being spanked and fondled in front of their son was turning him on. Crazy he knew but true. He wanted to know if Audrey was being turned on as well. Surely she was. He lost count of the number of spanks but knew it was dozens. So many stinging spanks, so much crying. He heard Audrey say to Ryan she hoped his Dad would learn from this, and Jeff was mortified.

His wife discussing his discipline with his son. Being spanked in front of someone he knew was humiliating enough and was supposed to be, to maybe make him not want to be spanked again. The only thing was he wanted to be spanked again and in front of his son, just as he wanted to watch the next time his son was spanked. He loved Audrey, loved her being in control, and was determined to accept her discipline in future.

Their son there or not there. Jeff slowly got up and stood in front of his wife, rubbing his bottom, not caring his penis was still on show. Then he realised, yes he still had his erection and he was so aroused. He looked at Ryan who was smiling, blushing but smiling. Jeff smiled back. He was sure he would be discussing being spanked with Ryan sometime soon.

It was an experience they had shared. Maybe, definitely, they would be sharing that experience again. They entered the bedroom and Audrey led Jeff over to the wall, put her hand on the back of his head and gently pressed his head until his nose touched the wall. He was shocked, but still he obeyed her. He wanted to obey her. He had hoped his punishment was over but obviously not. A few moments later Audrey came back in to the room and Jeff heard her sit on the bed.

A few seconds later and Jeff felt his wife rub in the cool cream, it felt so good, so cold, easing the stinging in his bottom. He parted his legs and raised his bottom, inviting Audrey to rub the cream in to his thighs. She laughed. Jeff looked around and found his wife smiling.

Jeff grunted in delight. A few seconds later and Jeff was removing his shirt as Audrey was taking off her top and bra, followed by her skirt and knickers. Audrey lay on her side and Jeff cuddled in, rubbing her bottom, thighs and then moving his hand between her legs, caressing her pussy, feeling how wet it already was.

Downstairs Ryan felt left out as his parents left the room and disappeared upstairs. The trouble was his erection. He waited a few minutes then made his way upstairs. Never mind. He went in to his own bedroom and looked at his bottom in the mirror. Half an hour later they were all back in the living room. Spanking Nov 22, Dad Makes Two 24 minute read 0 Comments Maybe she will lose some of her stress with the energy used to spank her son.

Take your trousers and pants off and face the wall for 15 minutes and then you know what you are going to get. His Mum watched him as he took down his trousers and then his pants before walking over to the wall, pushing his nose against it, and putting his hands on his head. He had done it before so knew exactly what his Mum expected and spent the next 15 minutes regretting how rude he had been.

Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking

Dad son hairbrush spanking