Eventually, my father remarried and the whole thing came to a halt. My "friend" Charlotte disappeared and I experienced a strange combination of relief and grief. Despite how horrible it was, I lost something when my father stopped being sexual with me. I felt like I lost his attention, his affection and his adoration. Those feelings, wrapped up so tightly in those interactions with him, had become my world, and suddenly that stopped. It traumatized me in all new ways. What some parents – and most kids – may find surprising is that any branch of law enforcement would offer to stand witness as a parent spanks their kid.

I didn't need him anymore. I had developed something of a relationship with a real boy, Jeff, a kid in the new neighborhood. Jeff would beg me to let him kiss and touch me, and I would tell him no. That expression of my power made me feel great. Here someone was sexually focused on me, which made me feel alive. But at the same time, I was able to prove to myself that I wasn't an awful person because I didn't let him do things to me. As an added bonus, I had the opportunity to reject unwanted sexual advances, something I was never able to do with Dad.If it was serious and during the day, Mom might quietly say “Wait until your Father comes home” instead of dealing with the punishment herself. That always put a damper on the day, and the evening was usually no better. It's ugly and, even now, more than 25 years later, difficult for me to say. With my father, in his bed, I first experienced the bump and grind of sexual relations. It was his genitals I first explored; he was the first to touch my body sexually, and those hands have left an indelible imprint. I have no memories that predate his abuse -- his rubbing and touching, his forcing me to touch him. I could hardly wait for him to reach into my panties and give me that tingling feeling. I didn't know then that I was having orgasms; it would be years before I learned that word, and even longer before I admitted to myself that what I experienced was orgasm. But sometimes the incest felt good -- that special feeling, all that attention and love and affection from my nice daddy. And he was, in my young mind, my nice daddy; he hugged me and put Band-Aids on my skinned knees and sang Sinatra songs to me.

My whole life, I have been haunted by an intersection between shame and pleasure. As a young child, I was hurt again and again and led to believe that it was my fault, and that if only I weren't bad, my dad wouldn't do those things to me. But at the same time, I thought I was special because it was happening. I'd tell myself, "Look how much my daddy loves me," but still I knew it was bad and that I should be ashamed. And sometimes I liked the way it felt, but a lot of times I was scared. And I knew that if I told anyone, he would hurt me.The Dictated Apology: When Lisa cheats on her finals and then forges her father's signature on a note from her teacher, things don't end well for her. A spanking from her father is followed by a dose of his belt and then she is made to write an apology to her teacher. I’m this way,” she tells the person filming while she hits Green with an unidentified object. “You wanna embarrass me on TV? You wanna embarrass me on f—-n’ social media?” Miller slappedher daughter in the face and punched her on her body. “You wanna be a lil THOT, huh? You think that sh-t cute, huh? Being a THOT?” No Talking after Ten: Lauren's father delivers a bare bottomed spanking to remind her to obey the rules.