I know I was supposed to talk about what a curfew spanking is like, but seeing as the weekend went as it did I thought I would write about it. Somehow I don’t think anyone will mind.
Have I mentioned parents suck? No? Well they do…
Never more so than when they figure out that the perfect world they’ve constructed around me is anything but perfect. When I left Saturday morning they were at each other’s throats over something or other that wasn’t any of my business and I did my best to make sure it stayed that way. I came back late but not so late as to get in trouble, I didn’t think I needed that, but not early enough that I would likely be subjected to any more of their feud. Normally this is the best I can hope for when those days come around where mom and dad are sounding anything but parental.
It was therefore surprising to me to find them both sitting in the living room waiting for me. The absence of TV noise and the serious expressions on both their faces left me with a gnawing hole in place of my stomach and I gulped barely managing to keep my UH OH thought to myself. I didn’t have much a chance to say anything really, dad just told me to sit down with this utterly calm and yet entirely un-calm tone in his voice. If you imagine my knees were shaking and my head was spinning and I sat down only too gladly, you’d be mostly right.
What followed was an inquisition into my whereabouts for the day and the company I'd kept. It was light almost unobtrusive but in the back of my head my own voice was screaming for me to beware of strangers bearing gifts. Make no mistake, calm parents interested in my day without judging it are definitely strangers, not quite Invasion of the Body Snatchers strangers but close enough to raise hackles in any case. Then came the first accusation disguised as a polite question.
Why didn’t you say anything when you left this morning?
How does one tactfully answer such a question? Seriously. I have no idea how I was supposed to answer that. I decided it was better to shrug. Maybe that was wrong, but WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY? Would it have gone any better had I said well I wasn’t sure I wanted to interrupt your fight with my unimportant plans for the day? Truth be told, I had no clue where I was going or what I was going to do when I left, I just knew I didn’t want to be home. The truth wasn’t exactly going to set me free or am I wrong?
I wasn’t wrong because as I suspected from the moment I walked in the door, it wasn’t Saturday’s activities which were at issue. Mom “found” a letter from school which I was keeping private. I do have a right to privacy and I would think my communications with my college should fall under that purview but my parents don’t agree on the mere premise that their financial involvement entitles them to full disclosure on all matters related to my education. Scholarships don’t care about all the stuff that goes on, they just want to know the final results. Seems equitable to me but yeah I know, parents aren’t a scholarship.
[Imagine my eyes rolling at the news and you’ve probably got my reaction down pat.]
Rather than bore you with all the petty details of conversation let me summarize. The school sent me a letter warning me that if I continued to not show up for my trig class I would be dropped from the class with a failing grade and that action could result in an academic probation status which could effect my ability to enroll in classes. Prior to receiving the letter I had no clue my attendance or lack thereof was in anyway an issue with classes at college. Call me stupid (just not to my face) but I thought in college all that mattered was passing the exams. I took the letter seriously and changed my behavior without needing anything from my parents to motivate me. They see it a little differently.
Complaints over the invasion of my privacy and their lack of respect for me as an adult were met with handbook parental responses, I have no privacy so long as I live under their roof, and I’ll be treated like an adult when and if I act like one.
[See above note regarding rolling eyes.]
With views like that is it any surprise they resort to spanking me? I didn’t think so. It’s not that I don’t think I deserved a spanking over it, it’s that I think I’m old enough that it should have been my choice and not theirs. The distinction matters to me even if it does seem like a silly one.
After everything was said I was sent to bed for the night with the knowledge that nothing was over or settled. I knew I could anticipate a Sunday morning spanking and so I spent a mostly sleepless night thinking about it. I really wish I was better able to rest with stuff hanging over my head. It would make life easier.
Sunday morning came along and with it I quickly ended up upended over mom’s lap in the living room. I came downstairs after a quick stop in the bathroom and found mom and dad waiting in the living room. They didn’t waste time and for that I am glad. It is better to get over with it and early as it was my nephew was still in bed asleep. It’s a small comfort but it is less embarrassing when he’s not in the room while I’m being spanked.
I wear light weight pajamas to bed most nights, some times I don’t wear much of anything but when I know a spanking is coming in the morning, I always wear my pajamas. They’re pink and they have separate top and bottoms making them somewhat ideal for getting spanked as I’m sure you can imagine. So it wasn’t really necessary for me to do more than lower the bottoms and my panties, but mom was in a really foul mood for some reason and made me remove everything before going over her knee. I did protest some but as usual, it did me no good and instead of getting a hand spanking from her I had to walk back up the stairs, stark naked, to retrieve my hairbrush for her to use.
She started out slow and built up the speed faster and faster until I was kicking and squirming and squealing. It burned and stung and just kept getting hotter and hotter until finally I just laid still and sobbed. She waited a moment then for me to get back in control and then made me count out a final 18 smacks. After that I was stood in the corner while everyone else ate breakfast. Yes, my nephew was up then, probably awoken by the sounds of my spanking.
At first I really didn’t care about anything more than the burning in my butt. Rubbing doesn’t really help much but because I’m not allowed to do it, it seems all the more appealing while standing in that corner. A few minutes go by and the pain fades a little into the background and then I realize how humiliating my position is; stood naked in the corner with my hands on top of my head and my red spanked butt clearly visible to everyone in the house. While everyone is eating, talking and laughing like it’s just a normal Sunday morning, I am staring at a white wall exposing my shame. Call it an earth shattering moment when the realization hits like a ton of bricks falling out of the sky.
I should have known the end of breakfast would not be the end of it but I allowed myself to hope anyway. When mom spun me around from the corner and made it clear I was in for a miserable day I nearly started crying again feeling my hopes come crashing down. I sniffled and kept it inside though. I put my pajamas away like I was told and got my trig book, two pencils and a notebook. I brought them downstairs to the living room where I sat behind a small desk on a hard wood chair with my back to the wall. There I stayed working trig problems chapter by chapter for the rest of the day with only a few essential breaks.
As if all that were not enough, I'm confined to the house and only allowed to leave to go to school for the next month. Mom and dad expect me to do my homework at that desk in the living room just like on Sunday and then show it to them as well for the entire month. It's like they don't trust me at all.
Parents suck and so will the next month.