I wanted to find a way to demonstrate to Gulliver that when he misbehaves, he hurts people. Sometimes, potentially, quite a lot. Nothing should make a person feel worse than hurting another person. But how do we explain this to our children in a way that will resonate with them?
Father requests police presence when spanking child
They have the ability to empathize but far fewer reference points from which to draw on than an adult. In the past — and, disgustingly, quite often today as well — parents sought to demonstrate that misbehavior can have painful consequences by hurting their own children. Beating, spanking, deprival of items and experiences that bring the child joy, and voice raising all litter the shameful history of parenting.
Gulliver, though only in kindergarten, is already one of the most emotionally intelligent people I know. One that emotionally educated the boy without harming him.
"I'm going to spank you now" | ciameicentmisfo.ml
So I came back to my original thought. Hurting someone else is the worst thing a person can do. Hurting someone… should hurt you. Now, whenever Gulliver acts up, I have him spank me. Hurt me. Someone he loves.
He got the message because mommy had never spanked him and never did again. However, it appears I might not be in the majority, according to sub statistics. However, there are parents who go far beyond what most parents would consider acceptable spanking, and become abusers. The resulting national debate over Mr. Saum says he would personally recommend to parents that they call the Department of Child and Family Services and not police when looking for guidance on the option of corporal punishment.
When it comes to children who have their corporal punishment witnessed by police, I asked Saum if there is potential prejudice against law enforcement as a result. Saum clarifies his views on spanking versus abuse when asked if witnessing a spanking, then offering your card, send a mixed message to kids. You hit on the butt to get a point across. There was no anger. No hate. I learned and, while I still did plenty wrong over the years, I grew up right. While it still might be hard for non-spanking parents, like myself, to follow that logic, I do appreciate how many parents try to maintain traditional values that have served their families well, while adapting to the latest concerns around corporal punishment.
Should I tell him I wondered, yes, why not? I watched his reaction, a mixture of disbelief and shock. Carl looked a little more relaxed. Have you got your uniform? How about now? What do you want me to do? Carl asked. Without a further word Carl did as I ordered and I followed him upstairs and into my own room to change into uniform.
I took the belt that Carl had commented on from my jeans; it was my police uniform belt and transferred it to my uniform trousers. When I was in full uniform including my highly polished boots, I approached the rear bedroom and opened the door. Carl was standing exactly as I had ordered stripped to his briefs, his other clothes placed over a chair and with his hands on his head. Yes WHAT? I shouted into his face. I needed Carl to know who was in charge.
Now, take off your briefs. Without hesitation he took his hands from his head, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, pushed then down and stepped out of them returning his hands to his head. Despite his obvious apprehension he was semi-erect.
It was time for some action. Removing his hands from his head Carl crossed to the bed and did as instructed. Carl shuffled his knees into position turning his head slightly to the left where I was standing.
I produced my handcuffs and cuffed his left wrist bringing his arm to the rear behind his knees, then taking his right wrist behind his knees and securing it into the handcuffs. His backside was now slightly raised in the perfect position and he was almost immobile. Slowly I unbuckled by belt and folded it double, aware that Carl was still watching me. I was in no hurry, I ran my hand over his cheeks, admiring his firm, beefy buttocks.
I prepared for the first stroke and landed it squarely across the centre of his buttocks giving, what was, to me, the satisfying sound of leather on bare skin. He flinched slightly but made no sound but I noticed slightly heavier breathing. I watched a red stripe form and then landed a second stroke. Again Carl made little or no sound but I noticed him raise his backside slightly as if inviting further punishment. The first two strokes had been of moderate strength, perhaps something heavier was needed. I delivered four further whacks slightly harder working my way lower down his buttocks.
This produced a sharp intake of breath indicating they were having the desired effect. After six strokes I again ran my hand over his cheeks. They were now glowing red and were warming up nicely. Perhaps another six to make the point. I delivered the next strokes much harder trying to provoke a reaction. I think I these had done the trick. Again I ran my hand over the increasingly glowing red buttocks. Carl would have some pretty impressive bruising for a few days. I unlocked and removed the handcuffs. Carl stood and placed his hands on his head although it was obvious he would have liked to continue rubbing.
I walked round him, belt still in hand admiring my handiwork.
To my surprise he sported a fully erect cock. I stood in front of him and held the belt which had just furiously leathered his backside up to his face so he could smell its scent.
I Wanted to Be His Prized Possession
I grinned at him to indicate we had done. I was thinking he may want to cool down his burning buttocks. He also may want to take care of that erection! I had been downstairs for about 20 minutes when Carl reappeared, freshly showered and gently lowered himself into a chair which, fortunately, had a soft seat cushion.