An OTK Spanking is My Go-to Domestic Discipline Punishment for All my Naughty Little Ones

My oh my. As I look at my naughty little one’s face, I can see all the anxiety and trepidation stirring within his little body. Oh yes, he knows that he’s done wrong. And he knows that he deserves this over-the-knee spanking. That he’s earned his punishment. But I can also see the wheels turns behind those wary eyes. Can he get away with trying to deny the deed?  Will I be sympathetic to a preemptive confession? For some reason, he always thinks he can somehow wiggle out of his well-deserved bout of domestic discipline. And this is how a session of domestic discipline punishment always seems to start.

I tell my little one to come to me. And I repeat what I always have to say when he drags his feet. He knows this little speech by heart.  I remind him that if he continues to misbehave, that not only was he going to get an OTK spanking punishment (that’s a given), but his punishment will double, and even triple in its length and intensity. Oh yes, he knows I speak true. He’s experienced this first-hand. The fact of the matter is, is that he was going over Mama’s knee. The question was how harsh it would end up being.

I see his lower lips start to quiver, his big eyes glistening with unshed tears. But I know what he always fails to remember. That after all is said and done, when his little bottom is red and hot from his spankings and the tears have flown freely, that he will feel better knowing that he has taken his punishment and he is better for it. The time for stalling is done.

It’s time to pay the piper with some tried and true domestic discipline punishment

So, I go ahead and tell him that no matter how much he begs, pleads, or otherwise tries to get out of his spanking, it will do no good. I remind him once again that, in fact, it might just make me punish him even more. Naturally, that stops him in mid-plea.  I make him walk to me, then undo his pants. Next, I pull both his pants and Underoos down to his knees. Next, I both pull and lift him over my lap. Once I place his bottom strategically over my bare thighs, I string my arm over his mid-back, holding firmly in place.  I take a moment to caress and squeeze his bare bottom at first, getting more blood flow to the focal point of said spanking.

Without a word, my hand then raises and the first of many smacks resound through the room. He jerks from the sting and surprise of that first whack. It never seems to amaze me that he has that same reaction to the first slap of my hand on his waiting bottom. It’s hard and I can see the first red handprint on his once pristine bottom.

The OTK spanking continues, my aim moving from each cheek to the center, to his upper thighs.

I set a steady pace. Good overall coverage is always my goal. From there, it’s a rinse and repeat process, until the perfect shade of red is glowing back at me. Of course, he tries to use his hands to block my swats. I know it’s just his protective instincts. I just give him a soft tsk-tsk as I casually grab his wrists and hold them at the small of his back. Then I continue his well-earned domestic discipline punishment.

There are tears (naturally), but there is also a cleansing of sorts. A wiping of the slate clean as it were. And as always, afterward, he’s given a loving embrace and soft hushes that it’s all over and all is forgiven.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the real possibility that a good old-fashioned spanking can turn into something… else. That maybe that up-turned tushie might be the center of other…attentions… other probing and stroking attentions.

 

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