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Growing UpPart 1 – Me Growing up: mainly a true account with some artistic licence though: As one gets older and possibly wiser I find it strange how bits and pieces either accept or frowned upon years ago loose there so called mystery and often just become the norm. I wouldn’t say my particular parent’s had great liberal types but they did seem to have slightly different outlook on others as I was growing up. At the time I just accepted what happened as normal slightly eccentric behaviour however soon worked out that this was designed to provide personal pleasure. These seemed included several mixtures ranging from a strict Victorian approach to family discipline with me the recipient of prolonged chastisement which included many a sound beatings with the occasional a harsh old fashion thrashing designed to correct any cheeky or naughty behaviour. The other side a distinct liberal approach around friendship especially interracial ones with them often holding small discreet late evening social gatherings at our house with a large African family whom lived close by…As I grew my inquisitive nature provided a better understanding around worldly matters so trying to fathom out these mixed ideas and or views I quickly realised their actions were for their own personal pleasure. The slightly worrying was the enjoyment this provided me at the time and antalya escort still continues too. With disciple the same ritual took place with me being informed during the day that I’d be needed in the backroom before bedtime. Both would be present dressed just in dressing gowns with a high chair placed in the middle of the room and small table close by. The table would have a selection of items that were going to be used during as both parent often said my correction. These would include hard soled slipper (mother’s favourite) both bamboo and solid cane, several different types of hand brushes an old leather belt and my father particular favourite an old plimsoll. At the beginning my punishment would occur once a week normally over the weekend. I’d enter the back room fully clothed then when instructed too removing everything bar my pants… Again when instructed I’d bend over the tall chair in such a manner that my bottom was upwards and head tucked as close to the floor as possible…With regards to the actual punishment there wa s often a short pause before (normally my mother) explaining or more lecturing me about how my behaviour hadn’t been acceptable and although there had been ample opportunities to address this over time I needed to learn a lesson. With this over the beating would follow shortly afterwards with my mother whacking escort antalya my bottom usually 6 times although sometimes this would increase to 10.After a short period my father would then add this was a lesson to learn before he’d pick his implement of choice swish it around and then bring whatever item chosen across my left bottom check then almost instantly the right one. He’d do this usually 10 times however this would extend to 12 on occasions… Both had the same knack of adjusting the intensity of their smacking which meant guessing how hard they land the next strike. Both usually administered the first and last one on the soft side with my mother tending to increase the strength of each strike with the second to last landing with the maximum of force. Fathers approach was similar however he like to differ the time distance between each strike. At the end of this I have tears streaming down my face and with deep red marks across both bum checks as well the top of each thigh. Things continued along these lines for a while however slowly began to include the added elements of degrading and humiliating me as both (using their words) thought my behaviour wasn’t really improving and therefore required extra methods . This started with once the beating was completed I’d stand up then at first remove my pants so they could observe antalya escort bayan their handy work and after a short while I’d have to parade my nakedness around the house along with them looking at the handy work to my bottom as the bruises and marks became more evident. Over time the humiliation intensified with me having strip naked and wait inside my be room, then usually my mother would come and escort me downstairs. Father would be waiting and then carry out what he called a brief rub down to ensure I hadn’t secreted any objects about my person. Once satisfied I’d normally bend over the high chair as before but on some occasions assume a position with me bent almost double with legs slightly parted and head as close to the floor as possible however more importantly hands firmly gripping each ankle. Embarrassingly on an increasing regularity the anticipation around what was happening or more likely to happen lead to either having an erect penis before being escorted downstairs leaving my room before y the end of a beating I’d arise with an erect penis. The first time I desperately tried hiding this from them however failed miserably. Both noticed almost instantly with my father ridiculing its size and mother smirking at me. . Once they were finished with me I was sent to my room for the remainder of the night and stayed there nursing my sore bottom. Safely tucked inside my room I’d play with my cock till I’d cum all over my hand then take great enjoyment in wiping this all over my sore beaten bottom .. TBC with me sneaking out of my room and peaking at my parent did afterwards…

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