It was a fine day in the North American household when Daddy Trump came home from a long, hard day of Making America Great Again, only to find his naughty little neighbor, Miss Canada, up to no good again.
“Oh, what’s this?” Daddy Trump bellowed, stepping inside and catching a whiff of something foul. “Is that fentanyl I smell, young lady?”
Miss Canada, the fresh-faced, maple syrup-loving girl next door, shuffled her feet guiltily. “Oh… well… um… it wasn’t me! It's, uh… China! Yeah, China did it!”
Daddy Trump shook his head. “Now, now, little lady. You're supposed to be watching your borders, not letting all sorts of bad things sneak through. And don’t get me started on all those illegal immigrants slipping right past you and into my backyard!”
“But Daddy—”
“No buts, young lady! Well… except for one butt, and you know which one I’m talking about.”
Miss Canada's face turned red as she realized what was about to happen. She had heard Daddy Trump was serious about discipline, and now she had pushed her luck too far.
“What can I do to stop this?” she pleaded, wringing her hands.
Daddy Trump crossed his arms. “Nothing.”
Canada squeaked. “Nothing?!”
“Nothing,” Daddy Trump confirmed with a nod. “This spanking is happening whether you like it or not.”
Before Miss Canada could beg or protest, she found herself being pulled over Daddy Trump's lap. Her red-and-white skirt was flipped up, and in one swift motion, her panties were whisked down, leaving her poor little maple leaves completely exposed.
SMACK!
“Oooh!” Canada yelped, kicking her legs.
SMACK! SMACK!
“But Daddy Trump, it’s not fair!” she whined, her bottom quickly turning as red as her flag.
“You insulted the President of the United States,” Daddy Trump lectured, delivering another crisp spank. SMACK! “You let criminals sneak in.” SMACK! “And you didn’t stop that nasty fentanyl!” SMACK! SMACK!
Tears welled up in Miss Canada's eyes. “I-I’ll retaliate!” she blubbered. “I’ll put tariffs on you too!”
Daddy Trump paused mid-spank, his face growing stern. “Oh, will you?”
Miss Canada gulped.
Slowly, deliberately, Daddy Trump reached down to his waist and unbuckled his belt. The clink of the metal buckle sent a shiver down Miss Canada's spine.
“If you want to play that game, little miss,” Daddy Trump said, pulling the belt free, “then it’s ‘gonna be twice as bad for you.”
Canada panicked. “N-No! I'm taking it back! Please don’t use the belt!”
But it was too late.
Daddy Trump folded the leather in half, raised it high, and—
The last thing Canada's neighbors heard that evening was a series of loud WHACKS! and the sound of their northern neighbor wailing for all the world to hear.
And that's how Daddy Trump reminded little Miss Canada that when she misbehaves, her bare little bum belongs to him.
This should be more of a self spanking story
ReplyDeleteHa! Agreed!
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