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re: What’s the worst whipping you ever received as a kid and what did you do?
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:36 am to Jeb Busch Lite
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:36 am to Jeb Busch Lite
Sister and I were playing with squirt guns in the den while Dad was sleeping on the sofa. Sister ran by Dad to escape my shot and I missed. It hit my sleeping Dad in the face and boy he got pissed.
He jumped up screaming and pulled that evil leather belt off. He was beating face to feet, but I was able to crawl under a near by rocking chair to protect my face, but the legs were there for the taking.
Tough day
He jumped up screaming and pulled that evil leather belt off. He was beating face to feet, but I was able to crawl under a near by rocking chair to protect my face, but the legs were there for the taking.
Tough day
0
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:36 am to Jeb Busch Lite
I don't remember why, but I hated switches!!!
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:39 am to Jeb Busch Lite
My mom found a penthouse mag underneath my mattress and beat the piss out of me. You have to understand that this was back in the day (early 70's) when parents delivered God's judgement to heathens like me. My mom was an arse whooping machine and she was the judge, jury and executioner all rolled up in a 5'4" frame.
This post was edited on 4/21/21 at 8:40 am
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:40 am to Jeb Busch Lite
A friend of mine grew up in a very abusive home. His dad was an absolute tyrant and would physically abuse him for anything and everything. He came to my window one day when I was grounded for Lord knows what, and asked me to run away with him, and it sounded like a good idea at the time, so I did. I was trying to be a little hellion, and I didn’t want to bail on my buddy. We were picked up a couple hours later by the cops trying to hitchhike off the interstate. One of the police who brought me back home told my parents if I was her kid she would wear my arse out, and although my dad didn’t need any encouragement that was just fuel for the fire. He tore me up, and thank God he did. I needed every single bit of it for pulling that insane shite at 13 years old. When I think back on that I am so glad for arse whippings. That was very dangerous.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:42 am to Jeb Busch Lite
My dad came home drunk, as he occasionally did. My mom started in on him, as she always did.
I was sitting in the floor in front of the TV playing Atari and dad said something to me about spending too much time playing video games. I responded by flipping him off as he turned to walk into another room. I didn't think he saw me, but he did.
He snuck up behind me with his belt and got in about four licks across my back before I could get up and take off down the hall. Thankfully he didn't follow me...
I was sitting in the floor in front of the TV playing Atari and dad said something to me about spending too much time playing video games. I responded by flipping him off as he turned to walk into another room. I didn't think he saw me, but he did.
He snuck up behind me with his belt and got in about four licks across my back before I could get up and take off down the hall. Thankfully he didn't follow me...
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:45 am to Jeb Busch Lite
1. At my grandparent's house and me and an older cousin went for a bike ride, that turned into a nature hike. We'd been gone a long time and knew it was time to head back, but out shoes were muddy. We thought we would get in trouble for the muddy shoes so as we were walking out my cousin saw a patch of tall grass that he said would be good for cleaning our shoes, except it was across a canal. We walk for a ways and see a tree that had fallen across the canal so we go to walk across and I slip and fall in the water. As soon as I climb out my mom is waiting with a switch. Wet and cold is probably the worst way to get switched.
2. "Wait until you dad gets home" was uttered to me a lot. Well one time I was in the tub when he got home, so he waited until I dried off and wrapped myself in a towel before getting the belt. But it didn't hurt that bad because the towel padded it. So, when I knew I would get a whipping I'd ask if he was on the way home from work and when I knew he was on his way I'd go take a bath. That worked well until they found out what I was doing, then I got the bare assed alligator belt.
3. My mom's weapon of choice was usually a wooden spoon from the kitchen. Well I don't remember what I did, but she was in the laundry room and decided to use a hanger. A metal hanger. Well I was jumping trying to avoid the hits when I got gaffed. The hook of the hanger imbedded about an inch deep into my calf. My mom felt bad and I milked the shite out of it for a couple of weeks.
2. "Wait until you dad gets home" was uttered to me a lot. Well one time I was in the tub when he got home, so he waited until I dried off and wrapped myself in a towel before getting the belt. But it didn't hurt that bad because the towel padded it. So, when I knew I would get a whipping I'd ask if he was on the way home from work and when I knew he was on his way I'd go take a bath. That worked well until they found out what I was doing, then I got the bare assed alligator belt.
3. My mom's weapon of choice was usually a wooden spoon from the kitchen. Well I don't remember what I did, but she was in the laundry room and decided to use a hanger. A metal hanger. Well I was jumping trying to avoid the hits when I got gaffed. The hook of the hanger imbedded about an inch deep into my calf. My mom felt bad and I milked the shite out of it for a couple of weeks.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:45 am to VolsOut4Harambe
quote:
My cousin and I intentionally broke a bunch of antique dolls. Like ripped their arms, heads, legs off, drew pubic hair and nipples, and all kinds of other stuff. We were 8-9 years old.
LMAO, that is hilarious though baw
quote:
I don't know why but my dad gave me 6 spankings - the record for me. The max for him was usually 5.
Yikes, Atleast they were just spankings, could have been worse
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:48 am to Mike da Tigah
was 7...i was out at my grandfathers house and he had chickens. i had this tobacco stick. i would throw rocks up and hit them or play like i had a sword. so , i used this stick to sword fight with baby chickens. i was hitting them in the head with this stick.... i can still see my grandpa running out the barn coming at me yelling.. he took that stick away and whipped me with that tobacco stick.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:49 am to Jeb Busch Lite
quote:
Jeb Busch Lite
You were a little shite.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:51 am to Jeb Busch Lite
my dad grew up oil field trash in Odessa, TX. every now and then he'd let me go stay with his widowed mom and his uncle that lived with her.mean old cuss of a woman who raised 7 boys by herself.
one time when i was about 7 or 8 i thought it would be funny to lock her out of the house, and kept her there for about 10 minutes. i was just laughing away.
when i finally let her back inshe beat my arse so bad that i'll never forget it. limb from a tree and hit me everywhere on my body.
one time when i was about 7 or 8 i thought it would be funny to lock her out of the house, and kept her there for about 10 minutes. i was just laughing away.
when i finally let her back inshe beat my arse so bad that i'll never forget it. limb from a tree and hit me everywhere on my body.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:57 am to Jeb Busch Lite
Back in the late 70's, when I was 13, there was a skate park, in Metry, behind the McDonald's on Severn and W Esplanade. One Saturday morning my dad wanted me to cut the grass, I asked him if I could go skate for 2 hours and come home and do it after, which he agreed but he said to come right home and do it.
When we were finished skating, my friends talked me into staying with them and keep skating around Metairie. I basically stayed out all day and didn't come home till 7 that evening.
When I got home, no one was home and my neighbor came out and said my parents were out looking for me and they were worried. This is when I realized I was getting my arse whipped.
I cut the grass and took a shower and sat in the den waiting for my parents to get home. When I heard them pull up, I looked out the door and could see the steam coming from my dad's head. Without saying a word he started to knock the shite out of me... All I could get out was "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" while he continued to beat my arse.
He said, I'm glad you're safe, but you're lucky I didn't kill you.
Never did that again...
When we were finished skating, my friends talked me into staying with them and keep skating around Metairie. I basically stayed out all day and didn't come home till 7 that evening.
When I got home, no one was home and my neighbor came out and said my parents were out looking for me and they were worried. This is when I realized I was getting my arse whipped.
I cut the grass and took a shower and sat in the den waiting for my parents to get home. When I heard them pull up, I looked out the door and could see the steam coming from my dad's head. Without saying a word he started to knock the shite out of me... All I could get out was "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" while he continued to beat my arse.
He said, I'm glad you're safe, but you're lucky I didn't kill you.
Never did that again...
This post was edited on 4/21/21 at 9:00 am
Posted on 4/21/21 at 8:57 am to Jeb Busch Lite
I was 15 years old, me and my mom were arguing because she didn’t want me to go to my girlfriends house(who my mom disliked). I stood up very aggressive from the kitchen table, my dad at the computer from another room saw this. He immediately stood up, came over and clocked me.
I’ve received a hand full of belt whippings through the years, nothing crazy or unwarranted but this was the first and only time he hit me.
I was only getting up to leave the room but with the way I stood up with my mother right in front of me, I could see how my dad thought that I was going to do something stupid. I wasn’t but I could totally understand.
I learned a valuable lesson that day and feel like that was an important life moment; he was still the alpha and I needed to project my anger and frustration in a more civil manner.
I’ve received a hand full of belt whippings through the years, nothing crazy or unwarranted but this was the first and only time he hit me.
I was only getting up to leave the room but with the way I stood up with my mother right in front of me, I could see how my dad thought that I was going to do something stupid. I wasn’t but I could totally understand.
I learned a valuable lesson that day and feel like that was an important life moment; he was still the alpha and I needed to project my anger and frustration in a more civil manner.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:01 am to Jeb Busch Lite
Had numerous ones, all of them sucked. Never made the same mistake twice though.
There was one where my mom was trying to whip me and I blocked her arm. Thought I broke it and she said those words, "Wait until your father gets home".
The anticipation of getting whipped always seemed worse than the whipping itself.
There was one where my mom was trying to whip me and I blocked her arm. Thought I broke it and she said those words, "Wait until your father gets home".
The anticipation of getting whipped always seemed worse than the whipping itself.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:19 am to Jeb Busch Lite
Dad was our main discipliner: He was in the Navy my entire childhood, retired with 27 years. As a kid, we would NEVER get to skip school even if we were sick, except when dads ship came back home. I always HATED those days because whatever bad shite I did over the past 6 months I got whippings for all on that day. Mom kept a running list for dad while he was gone so he knew what he was beating me for.
I also remember a separate time; My mom was big into tennis when we were growing up so naturally we played as young kids as well. I was probably 9 or so and Mom let us invite some friends to come play with us at those tennis courts in Gonzales off Burnside while she played with friends. I said something rude or talked back to my mom when she said it was time to leave and without hesitation she beat the hell out of my arse...with my own damn tennis racket...in front of all of my friends. I was so embarrassed but I sure as shite never talked back again.
Edit: I’ll add that we lived with my Grandparents for awhile as a kid as well. My grandma would smack me whenever I acted up with whatever was in her closest reach. I can’t even remember all the shite she hit me with; remote for the TV, probably every cooking utensil she owned, a broom handle once, fly swatter all the time, coffee mug once, those old Cajun women aren’t scared of shite and are definitely a different breed.
I also remember a separate time; My mom was big into tennis when we were growing up so naturally we played as young kids as well. I was probably 9 or so and Mom let us invite some friends to come play with us at those tennis courts in Gonzales off Burnside while she played with friends. I said something rude or talked back to my mom when she said it was time to leave and without hesitation she beat the hell out of my arse...with my own damn tennis racket...in front of all of my friends. I was so embarrassed but I sure as shite never talked back again.
Edit: I’ll add that we lived with my Grandparents for awhile as a kid as well. My grandma would smack me whenever I acted up with whatever was in her closest reach. I can’t even remember all the shite she hit me with; remote for the TV, probably every cooking utensil she owned, a broom handle once, fly swatter all the time, coffee mug once, those old Cajun women aren’t scared of shite and are definitely a different breed.
This post was edited on 4/21/21 at 9:26 am
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:29 am to Jeb Busch Lite
(no message)
This post was edited on 4/21/21 at 3:01 pm
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:35 am to Jeb Busch Lite
two instances stand out to me.
1st was when I was about 7 or 8 and was playing outside and left to go across the street to the neighbor's house without asking for permission. When it was time to leave to go somewhere they couldn't find me. When they finally found me dad grabbed a ping pong paddle.
2nd was in 3rd grade I talked back to the teacher that was my mom's best friend and mom decided I needed a spanking when I got home. I laughed at her on the third swat. Didn't laugh when dad got home. I'm in my 40s now and whenever mom brings up that teacher's name I still get mad.
1st was when I was about 7 or 8 and was playing outside and left to go across the street to the neighbor's house without asking for permission. When it was time to leave to go somewhere they couldn't find me. When they finally found me dad grabbed a ping pong paddle.
2nd was in 3rd grade I talked back to the teacher that was my mom's best friend and mom decided I needed a spanking when I got home. I laughed at her on the third swat. Didn't laugh when dad got home. I'm in my 40s now and whenever mom brings up that teacher's name I still get mad.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:40 am to chinhoyang
Jaime Alvarez, the kid who whipped me for insulting his bicycle, also had to teach a couple of other gringo kids a lesson.
Two guys in my class were watching a movie from the balcony at a downtown El Paso theater. Below them, a woman had her purse on the seat next to her and the purse was open. The two kids were chewing caramels and though it would be funny to land a few in the purse (which they did).
It was Jaime's mom with the purse. Word got out of the incident around the school and Jaime whipped some arse.
As I typed this, I wondered if this was some school urban myth (though the two boys definitely got an arse whipping).
Two guys in my class were watching a movie from the balcony at a downtown El Paso theater. Below them, a woman had her purse on the seat next to her and the purse was open. The two kids were chewing caramels and though it would be funny to land a few in the purse (which they did).
It was Jaime's mom with the purse. Word got out of the incident around the school and Jaime whipped some arse.
As I typed this, I wondered if this was some school urban myth (though the two boys definitely got an arse whipping).
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:44 am to RedShirt
quote:that is insane. Kids are not perfect. Maybe incorporate a bed check each morning with the child having to redo it better if it is not up to standard. I don't understand beating a kid to get them to learn. You teach to get them to learn.
Got hit with pool stick across my back when I walked in front door. Then told to go to my room, take all my clothes off and lay face down on my bed. I was then beat with the buckle end of the belt until I was bleeding in multiple locations.
What did I do? Didn’t make my bed good enough before I went to school.
Posted on 4/21/21 at 9:50 am to Jeb Busch Lite
quote:
My dad always said he never enjoyed disciplining his children but I think he thoroughly enjoyed it that day.
when I was in sixth grade our baseball coach quit almost immediately after practices began, no one would step up, so my Dad said he'd take over, he really didn't have time because he ran his own business, which was a pretty good sized company and very busy, this was in the days before travel ball and every kid having their own personalized equipment bag complete with a few $4-500 dollar bats and who knows what else, back then all of the equipment for the team was a few bats, balls, and catcher's gear all contained in a duffle bag, it was my responsibility after practice to round up all of the gear, bag it up, and put in the truck, I did just that one day after practice but when we got home the gear was missing, well, we didn't even make it into the house before he pulled this "switch" off of this huge hedge behind the house, it was about 3/4" in diameter and probably 4-5' long, he wailed on me for what seemed like hours and kids all through the neighborhood heard it, we go inside and within 10 minutes receive a phone call from the coach of another team from a younger age group saying that they had "borrowed" the equipment because the coach's kid Braxton wanted to try and learn how to be a catcher, next morning at the bus stop I was catching it from all of the other kids, most humiliating thing was, it was field day, the only day we could wear shorts to school, the backs of my legs were covered in bruises and welts(part of my back too, I just had a shirt on)
[ ] scarred for life
[X] not scarred for life
Posted on 4/21/21 at 10:04 am to Jeb Busch Lite
I was 5 years old and went to spend a weekend with my Nanny and Pawpaw (great grandparents). My Nanny had these hand towels that hung in the kitchen in a few places that were only for show. Same deal in the bathroom. Anybody, adults and/or kids alike, would get their hand popped if they ever went to touch
them for any reason because they were just for show. Well, I used to have full scale world wars with my little tan and green plastic army men that lasted for days and weeks sometimes and would spread out all through the house, yard, and even the woods sometimes. I was super into them and had thousands of them and an awesome imagination for setting them up in little battle scenes everywhere. Well I had a good battle stretched out in my Nanny’s backyard and on the back porch/deck and decided I wanted to make some parachutes for my airborne rangers to jump off the back porch and glide into this scene I had in the flower bed down below. I rounded up a bunch of her hand towels and some thread from her sewing kit and started rigging up these parachutes while Nanny was out in the front yard talking to one of her church friends. When she came to check on me and saw she immediately snatched me up and popped me a few good licks on the butt and said I knew better than to touch her towels and took them from me. Not sure exactly why it made my little bad arse so mad but it did. I waited until she was busy again and grabbed all those towels plus the ones folded and in a drawer somewhere, and I crawled underneath the back porch where the lattice under pinning was broken. I used the fireplace lighter to set those bitches on fire. My Pawpaw had been in his shed out back and saw the smoke and came running just in time to catch me crawling out from under the porch. He saw me with the lighter and saw that my little fire was under control but didn’t know what it was and started whooping my arse with his hand real bad. Worst whippin I had ever gotten up to that point. Then he took me inside and yelled for my nanny to tell her what I had done. She asked me what I had been burning and I told her my soldiers parachutes caught fire and she looked like her soul left her body she was so fricking pissed. She went and picked the fattest and thorniest damn switch from her crab apple tree and chased and whipped me around that house for I don’t even know how long. It was awful. I was bleeding all over my legs and back and arms by the time it was over. Then my mom and dad whipped and grounded me more when they came to pick me up that night. It was awful. Nanny told that story for years and years up until she passed away in 2004. God rest her soul.
them for any reason because they were just for show. Well, I used to have full scale world wars with my little tan and green plastic army men that lasted for days and weeks sometimes and would spread out all through the house, yard, and even the woods sometimes. I was super into them and had thousands of them and an awesome imagination for setting them up in little battle scenes everywhere. Well I had a good battle stretched out in my Nanny’s backyard and on the back porch/deck and decided I wanted to make some parachutes for my airborne rangers to jump off the back porch and glide into this scene I had in the flower bed down below. I rounded up a bunch of her hand towels and some thread from her sewing kit and started rigging up these parachutes while Nanny was out in the front yard talking to one of her church friends. When she came to check on me and saw she immediately snatched me up and popped me a few good licks on the butt and said I knew better than to touch her towels and took them from me. Not sure exactly why it made my little bad arse so mad but it did. I waited until she was busy again and grabbed all those towels plus the ones folded and in a drawer somewhere, and I crawled underneath the back porch where the lattice under pinning was broken. I used the fireplace lighter to set those bitches on fire. My Pawpaw had been in his shed out back and saw the smoke and came running just in time to catch me crawling out from under the porch. He saw me with the lighter and saw that my little fire was under control but didn’t know what it was and started whooping my arse with his hand real bad. Worst whippin I had ever gotten up to that point. Then he took me inside and yelled for my nanny to tell her what I had done. She asked me what I had been burning and I told her my soldiers parachutes caught fire and she looked like her soul left her body she was so fricking pissed. She went and picked the fattest and thorniest damn switch from her crab apple tree and chased and whipped me around that house for I don’t even know how long. It was awful. I was bleeding all over my legs and back and arms by the time it was over. Then my mom and dad whipped and grounded me more when they came to pick me up that night. It was awful. Nanny told that story for years and years up until she passed away in 2004. God rest her soul.
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