First the warning...if graphic descriptions of abuse bother you...stop here.
I am bent over the side of a bed. I'm not sure what bed but it's probably mine as it's very small. The tips of my toes can just barely touch the floor. My mom is leaning over the other side, gripping both of my wrists and holding them down. I'm naked. I'm too young to understand the concept of nudity or be bothered by it, but I'm wishing my butt could have a bit of protection from what it's about to receive.
My dad is taking his belt off. He has a very deliberate way of doing it when I'm in trouble. He pulls it out very slowly, running it through his hand as he does, likely to add drama to the upcoming punishment. It works. I feel my heart moving higher up in to my chest and beat rapidly. I feel my body begin to shake. I look up at my mom, whose face is nearly even with mine. She has a blank stare with just a slight hint of condemning.
Dad moves behind me, and I feel the belt very briefly touch my backside, likely as he checks his aim. Without a word I hear the crack and an instant later the unbelievable pain across my butt.
"Owwwwwww!!!!!" I scream as I wiggle and kick my legs...anything to free myself or to stop the pain. I feel my mom tighten her grip on my wrists. While I'm still kicking he swings again, and this time the belt cracks across my foot that happened to be in the way. I scream and cry again, bringing both feet down and pressing them together in hopes of stopping the intense new sting. As I do dad does a quick 3 strokes that cover from the lower part of my butt to the backs of my knees. Now it hurts too much to kick. He's good. He's done this before.
I'm crying hard now. I look up at my mom. "Mommy! Please! I'm sorry!"
She looks down on me. "You should've thought of that before you decided to be so stupid, right you little brat?"
I bury my face in the bed as another hard stroke hits my bottom.
"Answer your mother!" my dad roars.
"Yes ma'am." The words barely make it out.
Dad starts again with an unbelievable fury. Stroke after stroke after stroke hits, each time with the horrible crack sound that will haunt me long after the punishment is done.
I cry and scream and scream and cry. Now and then I find enough air for a word to escape. "Mommy! Please! Sorry! Mommy! Sorry!"
But she doesn't flinch. She shows no emotion. There is no "this hurts me more than it hurts you." No, "Don't worry honey this will be over soon." Her look was cold. I was a disappointment and nothing would change that. The beating kept going until I could scream no more. I could barely feel any new pain, and my body would no longer respond. I went limp.
"That's more like it," dad said. I think I heard him chuckle a bit. "No more trouble out of you."
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From what I can gather he left me there for a bit, and then came back later as "nice daddy." He would come in and rub lotion on the sore places, which generally lead to excessive touching and rubbing all over that region. Looking back on it now I can see this as the perfect blueprint for what would occur later. Intense pain followed some sort of sexual action from dad. Of course, as I got older, both parts grew much more involved and intense. I wonder if these early spankings gave him the desire to do more, or if he'd planned to do more all along but was "easing" me in to it. Another one of those questions I will never have an answer to.
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