Author:
Caitlyn D
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Date Posted: 21:21:10 01/13/25 Mon
I’m Caitlyn and I’m 34. Originally from NW Ohio but now in Colorado. I was spanked growing up, so was my brother, for that matter so was probably every kid from my hometown who grew up in the 1990s/2000s. But that’s not why I’m here.
A long story short, I can share more details if anyone wants to hear them, at age 18 we worked out a deal with my parents’ close friend, whose wife was a college professor at a university near their home that had high marks for my chosen career path (education).
My parents weren’t exactly wild about me leaving the state and being 1500 miles away. But since she was a professor they pulled some strings to get me in-state tuition and if I lived with them under close supervision. Coming from very blue collar background, going to college, real college, was a VERY big deal. And since it was deemed affordable with the in-state tuition, we did it.
I was told I would be subject to their rules, their expectations and, upon arriving there (I hadn’t seen them in a few years, but knew them and liked them so I wasn’t terribly uncomfortable and I felt safe), was told traditional corporal punishment would be used when warranted even though I was 18 and technically an adult. It was the whole “my roof, my rules” thing and my parents were fully supportive.
Now, when I say I was spanked growing up (yes, through high school), it was a “grab and spank.” My mom, mostly, would be mad about something I did or said or didn’t do or whatever, would grab me, grab something, whap my butt a dozen or so times almost always over whatever pants I had on and that was that. Only a few times, and mostly when I was younger, was I really bared, bent over and spanked.
That wasn’t the case at my host parents ‘( I guess I can call them that, or my godparents if that term is still used) house. For them, a spanking was a “full production” with a formal, ritualistic procedure. There was a specific spanking tool (a heavy wood spatula with holes), a predetermined number of stokes, a spanking chair which was kept in the corner where I’d be placed afterwards. A loss of some modesty wasn’t a byproduct of the spanking, it was a central component.
I struggle to this day with a wide range of conflicted feelings. One, it was exhilarating. But it didn’t really “turn me on.” Was what they did “right” I don’t know. I don’t feel abused or mistreated, they never (he was the spanker but she was always present) crossed a line or touched me in an improper place or in an inappropriate manner, but they sure made a point of exposing me. They did the same to their kids (who were 3 and 4 years older than me and out of the house when I lived there) and they turned out great.
So, that wasn’t a long story short, lol. But regardless I’m here.
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