[The following is the first (hopefully in a series) about my childhood spanking experiences. Comments please: gr_anderson@hotmail. com]
Off came the covers as Dad pulled my near naked body out of bed. Equipped with paddle in hand, he positioned me over his lap, and began the spanking. The protection of my underpants, which I wore as pajammas, only lasted a few minutes until Dad pulled them down.
It all started earlier that day...
It was what my dad did when he went into his workshop. I didn't understand why I couldn't do the same. That ignorance would lead me to my earliest memorable spanking. At the age of four, I decided to fire up dad's table saw, to see how it worked.
For the first second I just remember the loud whine of the saw's engine turining the belt which drove the blade round and round. The next few seconds were filled with my dads loud yells as he ran into the shop; his face white like he had seen a ghost.
Off went the awful sound of the saw as he flicked the switch and checked to see that I was okay. On went another machine, a wicked backhand, spanking my poor little bottom.
Being the wimp I was, a bout of tears and crying followed the initial spanks. Dad, knowing my low tolerance, kept on going. Spanks rained down, one by one by one, until it did hurt. Dad could tell from the tone of my crying and he stopped.
I was dragged into the house, still whimpering, not knowing what my fate would be. To my suprise dad let me go and told me never to go in the shop again. I just looked at him and rubbed my butt, still skaking with fear.
The rest of that day I was worried that Dad was still mad at me. I wished that I had never turned on the saw. No amount of spanking would stop him from being mad at me.
I talked to mom and luckily she had an idea. Dad and I would make a paddle together to rebuild our trust. That afternoon we spend a few hours crafting a nice wood paddle. I was very proud of our creation, but I knew that night I would be in agony because of it.
After I was tucked in my dad came in and got me out of bed. He sat down and pulled me over his lap. I got a sound paddling on my jockey underwear and later on my little bare bum. I cried to high heavens.
When he finished, he put the paddle down, pulled my underwear up nice and snug, and gave me a few good whacks with his hand. He said he loved me and tucked me back in to bed.
Since that incident I have always disliked the sound of the table saw running.