It is spaghetti night and daddy’s in the kitchen making his famous family meat sauce recipe. As daddy was preparing our food I was lying on my stomach watching the last ten minutes of an old rerun of some show called Quack Pack on the Disney channel. Daddy came into the living room to check on me, making sure I wasn’t getting into trouble. He chuckled about how cute I looked lying there in nothing but a diaper kicking my legs up and down as I happily watched tv.
Daddy walked over to me and knelt down to ruffle my head fur telling me dinner would be done in about twenty-five minutes and that I should go wash my hands soon. I gave daddy an acknowledging nod, he smile at me and once again returned back to his cooking.
Ten minutes has passed since I was told about dinner and now my show has ended. The next show was some baby show that I had no interest in so I got up, leaving the tv on, and went into the kitchen to asked daddy if I could go play in the backyard. Daddy told me that dinner would be done in less than 10 minutes and that if I were to go play in the backyard I’d get dirty. I begged daddy to just let me play in my new sandbox until dinner, but then he gave me the look, you know; that look of don’t push the issue any further if you know what’s good for you. Ya that look. I crossed my arms and stared down pouting, daddy then knelt down and lifted my chin up with a finger. I looked into his eyes still pouting. Daddy just smiled and told me to be a good little boy and wash my hands, then to go play in my nursery until dinner is finished. I nodded still pouting and walked out of the kitchen, as I walked out I heard daddy yelling something about turning off the tv, daddy hates to waste electricity.
As I was walking to the bathroom a thought came to me. Daddy said I couldn’t play in the backyard, but he said nothing about playing in the front. I could just play for a little bit and then quickly wash my hands without daddy ever knowing. I was so proud of myself for finding this loophole I gave myself a pat on the back. I quickly tipped-toed past the kitchen doorway, where daddy was stirring the sauce while whistling some tune, then past the tv, which is still on, and finally I quietly opened the front door. Now outside, in only a diaper, I ran to our driveway and went behind the big green trashcan where my bouncy ball was. Daddy told me to put it up in the garage the other day but I forgot, luckily daddy didn’t notice it behind the trash can when he gotten back from the store.
Daddy, still in the kitchen was just finishing up with the noodles. While draining the steamy noodles in the sink he yelled to me that dinner is ready. When I didn’t respond he yelled again, when I didn’t respond that time he placed the now drained noodles down onto the countertop and made his way into the living room where he seen the tv was still on playing some cartoon. A little annoyed by this he went over and turned it off, thinking to himself that he’ll have to have another talk with me about not turning off things when I’m no longer using them. Now headed towards my nursery, daddy opened the door expecting me to be playing however I was nowhere in sight. Now a little angry he quickly made his way over to the back door to see if I was playing in the backyard. When daddy couldn’t see me anywhere he started to get real worried. Running around the house yelling my name thinking maybe I’m playing hide and seek. Daddy looked everywhere for about 15 minutes, and I was still nowhere to be found. Then suddenly one of his ears shot straight up, he heard something or someone in the front yard. Quickly daddy opened the front door. There in the middle of the street he saw me playing with my ball laughing as I bounce it into the air.
As I bounced my ball a chill ran up my spine, like someone was watching me. But then I heard it, my name that is, being yelled out from the direction of my house. Turning around I saw my daddy. He looked so scary as he quickly made his way towards me. I had the urge to run but my feet were to scared to move. Daddy grabbed me by the arm, practically dragging me back to our house. I was screaming, saying Sorry and that I’d go wash my paws, but Daddy didn’t say a single word to me.
When we gotten back in the house all he said, with a disappointed angry tone, was go wait in the nursery. Starting to tear up I slowly made my way to my room and sat down on the bench that was right next to my crib. I buried my face into my hands softly crying for I know I was gonna be severely punished for whatever it was I did.
Daddy was livid! He made his way back to the kitchen and grabbed the wooden spoon he was using to stir the sauce. Washing then drying the spoon he made his way to the nursery. Opening the door he told me to stand up, so I did, he walked over and stood in fronting me arms crossed, I could see the wooden spoon in his hand. Just then I realized what it was for and I began to openly cry , blubbering words like “I’m Sowwwwy daddy!” and “Pwease! no spankies!”. Daddy would have none of it. He walked around me as he took hold of my arm to sit on the bench, once seated he place the spoon aside and pulled me in between his legs now holding me, his paws firmly around my wrist. Crying I heard daddy say in an his angry voice how much trouble I was in. He scolded me about how I disobeyed him by going outside when he specifically told me not too, also the fact that I didn’t turn off the tv. I adverted my teary eyes from daddy’s because how ashamed I was, but daddy shook my arms and ordered me to look at him. Looking back at him he sternly announced that I was getting a spanking, even though I knew this I just kept crying., like some dumb diaper baby. Daddy said the reason for the spoon was because I was playing in the street, this time a tone of concern was in his voice rather than anger. That made me cry even harder because I knew daddy was very disappointed in me.
Sighing daddy picked me up from under my arms and placed me not face down, but in the position that daddy would spank me when I acted up during one of my daily diaper changes. Holding both my legs up he grabbed for the spoon and held it firmly in his hand. I begged and begged, saying sorry and everything a toddler would typically say to get out of a spanking would say but all of my cry’s and apologies landed on death ears. Daddy told me that I am to be given sixty smacks with the spoon, my little hart sank when hearing this and my cries turned to bawling even before he started.
Not a second later the first hit landed causing me to scream from the sting, then the second hit and the third and so-on. SMACK after SMACK landed on my thighs. Bawling I continued begging daddy to stop, screaming Sawwwy! at the top of my lungs, yet the spoon still came back smacking my thighs. Around smack twenty daddy pulled my diaper up my legs just enough to display my unsmacked bottom. At this point my begging became more verbal, however after another twenty smacks my begging became nothing more than incoherent blubbering cries. When the last twenty landed I saw daddy through my tears put down the spoon. My face was stained with salty tears and snot when daddy helped me up to my feet. Standing I rushed to calm my stinging sore bottom by rubbing, but daddy grabbed both my hands with one of his and picked the spoon up again and smacked my red exposed bottom five more times with it, warning me to not rub until after Corner time is up.
Placing the spoon down again daddy rose from the bench firmly grasping my arm leading me to my special corner. Still sobbing he placed me, a well spanked sorry little baby boy, into the corner. Daddy told me once again to stand there and not to rub while pointing a warning finger at me. He then walked back over to the bench and sat there and watched me. There I stood for at least ten minutes trying to calm myself but tears still streamed down my face. I turned to look at daddy but barked at me to keep my nose aimed at that wall. Another five minutes passed and daddy looked up at the clock on the wall, smiling he told me to turnaround and come to him. I did as I was told, with my diaper which has now fallen to my knees, I waddle to my daddy. He snickered at this. Once in front of him he pulled my diaper back into its rightful position and rubbed my fur on top of my head. Looking into his eyes I cried and apologized again, this time daddy actually responded, hugging me saying that he forgives me and that he wishes that he didn’t have to punish me so harshly but also saying What I did was extremely dangerous, so he had to for my own good. Kissing my forehead he helped wipe some of my tears out of my eyes and asked if I was still hungry. I said “yes” with a little hiccup, rubbing my poor bottom with both my hands. Laughing, daddy ruffled my fur again then picked me up holding me as I rest my head against his strong fatherly chest. Slowly we made our way back to the kitchen where our now cold spaghetti awaited us.