You need a good spanking, yourself

Impression of Spanking From Daddy Vanessa

Then my skirts settled back

Still kneeling, I looked up at Daddy. Daddy held my wrists firmly against the small of my back and clamped my legs into position between his. The swelling in my bottom was gone by the next day, although the belt marks were still visible. The tender tight tiny tit tough and terrific tasty teen is slender sensual shy seductive sensationally sweet. My bottom was deep red from the hairbrush and Daddy's hand, and crisscrossed with welts from his belt.

Then Daddy's footsteps began to

Red hot iron bands were pressed against my flesh, searing and blistering it with intense heat. As dusk slowly fell, faint sounds of dinner being served, and then cleared, floated up the stairwell. On my right buttock small, darker marks appeared where the tip of the belt had licked me. All of my upbringing, all of the maidenly modesty instilled in me from my earliest recollections cried out to hide myself. He pointed out that it couldn't have been anyone else, since Mommy and I were the only ones home and Debby was at hockey practice and hadn't been home all day.

Now I was about toBut that afternoon as

No thoughts or words flitted through my mind. There was sadness in his eyes, but the confidence had returned. Gingerly slipping down my panties, I turned and regarded my hindquarters in the mirror. But I was helpless to do anything except wither helplessly beneath the ignominy of public nakedness.

Amateur Fetish Hardcore Slapping. He had always used only his hand to spank us.

Then my skirts settled back down across the backs of my thighs. Then Daddy's footsteps began to mount the stairs, and I hurried back under the covers. Now I was about to find out.

But as spank after slow

But as spank after slow, measured spank landed on my bottom and the pain grew and grew, eventually it drove out even the hatred until I was no longer shaking the earth and igniting the sky. But that afternoon, as Daddy turned up my skirts, I had already plummeted to a level of misery beyond fear or embarassment, a level of misery I had never known existed. But a decade later, when Debby was a freshman in college, she wrote me an anguished letter.