Reflection - Spanked in Front of Him
Reflection - Spanked in Front of Him This is the story of the first time my husband ever saw me spanked. I was fifteen and he was eighteen, at the same high school in Washington State, and he had come over to take me to the movies. He was just my boyfriend then—athletic, steady, brown hair always slightly tousled—and I was excited for our date. Daddy had one condition: be home by 10:00 p.m. The problem was the movie wouldn’t end until after ten. Instead of adjusting gracefully, I dug in my heels. I argued. I insisted it wasn’t fair. I let my temper rise in front of both of them. My boyfriend tried to smooth things over, his voice calm and reassuring. “Don’t worry,” he said gently. “We’ll just do something else.” But I wouldn’t let it go. My attitude escalated. Daddy’s patience ran out. In one swift motion, he took my arm, turned me around, and delivered five firm smacks to my bottom over my jeans. It was quick. Final. And mortifying. I ran upstairs in tears and humiliation an...