Primitive Spanking Poem
Look at him there with his baseball cap
Paddle in hand, ready to slaughter
Only my Daddy could spank like that,
And I love my Daddy like he loves his daughter.
The screen door slams, but it's no so funny--
Taken by arm to the shed
His hand feels cold and I'm sick to my tummy
My stomach burbling sounds of dread.
My shorts are hung on the wall by the strap
He gives extra with that because he wants me to holler
He motions with a hand to go over his lap
My bottom soon burns, Hell couldn't be hotter.
The whipping done I sit and sob in the corner
My throat hoarse from screaming like a scalded cat "Father!"
Only my Daddy could spank like that,
And I love my Daddy like he loves his daughter.
Notes From the "Naughty Chair": Essays, Observations and Spank Fiction Stories Penned to Pass the Time as I Serve My Sentence in the Naughty Chair
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