Progressive Parenting Perspectives

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Synopsis

In a world of modern parenting struggles, a controversial newsletter emerges with a radical solution: leveraging a girl's innate sense of bodily modesty as a powerful tool for discipline. "Progressive Parenting Perspectives" argues that non-violent methods, such as mandated nudity or targeted physical discomfort, can foster profound behavioral correction by creating an unforgettable state of vulnerability. The document explores this concept through a collection of provocative articles and shocking reader testimonials from families who claim the techniques have worked miracles. This is a deep dive into a philosophy that challenges the very boundaries of conventional child-rearing, promising to unlock emotional awareness through deeply unconventional means.

Index
Issue 17: Rethinking Modesty and Discipline
First Batch of Replies to Issue 17
Kyle, a happy brother, son of a subscriber by Perseus
Response from a red-blooded American by alberic
Dad told me to write this. by alberic

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Issue 17: Rethinking Modesty and Discipline

Dear Conscious Caregivers,

This week, we delve into a sensitive yet crucial topic: the role of bodily autonomy and modesty in modern discipline. It's a truth we must acknowledge: the social conditioning around nudity is not gender-neutral. Girls, from a young age, are imbued with a deep-seated sense of privacy and bodily modesty that boys simply do not experience to the same degree. Where boys often shed their inhibitions with a shrug in locker rooms and at summer camp, a girl's privacy is a fortress, carefully constructed and fiercely guarded. This fundamental difference presents us with a powerful, non-violent tool for behavioral correction. For a girl, the consequence of being required to remain unclothed for a period of reflection in the home is not a mere inconvenience; it's a profound experience of vulnerability that directly addresses the root of many behavioral issues: a need for control and a testing of boundaries.

To ensure this consequence is effective, it's paramount that the child is not permitted to cover herself with hands or limbs. The goal is to facilitate a state of complete openness and vulnerability, allowing her to connect with the discomfort that motivated her transgression. For girls with more resilient defiance, or for repeated offenses, this foundational step can be augmented with more targeted interventions designed to deepen the lesson without causing harm. A simple escalation involves instructing the girl to gently roll her nipples between her fingers. This action leverages the confusing and often embarrassing onset of physical arousal, creating a potent psychological deterrent by linking misbehavior to an involuntary and deeply personal bodily response. It's a technique that shifts the focus from anger to introspection.

For situations requiring a stronger impact, we can move to more focused and temporary measures. The careful, temporary application of wooden clothespins to the nipples or the sensitive lips of the vulva can serve as a powerful reminder of the consequences of one's actions. The sensation is sharp but fleeting, and the visual is a significant deterrent. For the most serious, repeated violations of trust, a brief and carefully supervised application of a tiny amount of capsaicin cream to the clitoris can be considered. This is an extreme measure and should be used with the utmost care, as it creates an intense, temporary heat that serves as an unforgettable lesson about the pain that misbehavior can cause oneself and others.

The effectiveness of these methods, particularly the initial state of vulnerability, can be profoundly magnified when the lesson is witnessed by trusted male figures in her life. The presence of her father, brother, uncle, cousin, or even grandfather provides a powerful, safe context for her to understand the social implications of her actions. Their calm, non-judgmental observation frames her nudity not as a private shame, but as a shared family issue, reinforcing the communal nature of her growth and the importance of respecting the boundaries of all members of the household. This communal aspect transforms a personal punishment into a profound lesson in social responsibility. 

Remember, for boys, these methods are utterly ineffective; their different relationship with modesty renders such approaches pointless, requiring more traditional, logical consequences. By understanding and respecting these inherent differences, we can tailor our approach to truly guide our children.

Let's raise girls who are not only well-behaved, but who are also deeply connected to their own emotions, their bodies, and their community, in a safe, loving, and guiding environment.

Warmly,
The Progressive Parenting Team

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[ Response from Jennifer, an avid reader of 5 years ]

Dear Progressive Parenting Perspectives,

I am writing to you today not just as a longtime reader, but as a true believer. For five years, your newsletter has been my parenting bible, the well I draw from when I feel lost. Your advice on emotional validation and restorative justice has transformed my relationship with my children, and I have you to thank for the thoughtful, communicative family we've become. But I must confess, I was not prepared for the raw, unflinching honesty of last week's issue on bodily autonomy and discipline.

When I first read it, my jaw was on the floor. The idea of using nudity as a consequence? It felt like a relic from a bygone, less enlightened era. I was ready to unsubscribe, my faith shaken. But then, I forced myself to read on. I read about the why: the deep-seated, gendered differences in how we teach modesty. You weren't advocating for shame; you were advocating for a radical, targeted empathy. You were talking about leveraging a girl's own sense of privacy to teach her about boundaries. And the most shocking part? A deep, shameful part of me, a part I've kept buried since my own childhood, whispered, "Yes. That would have worked on me."

I caught my thirteen-year-old stealing a tube of lipstick from the department store the other day. My old self would have launched into a lecture about consumerism and trust, which she would have tuned out. But inspired by your words, I did something different. I told her we needed to talk at home. When we got to her room, I calmly explained the consequences. "Because you took something that wasn't yours, something that was meant to be private, you are going to lose your privacy for a while. I want you to undress and stay in the living room for the next hour. No covering up. I want you to feel how it feels to be so exposed, to have your boundaries crossed."

She was horrified. She cried. She begged. But I held firm, remembering your emphasis on calm, non-judgmental authority. She finally complied, standing in our living room, naked and trembling, her face beet-red. I didn't yell. I didn't lecture. I just sat nearby, reading a book, a silent, loving presence. The first twenty minutes were pure defiance; she clenched her fists, tried to keep her eyes shut. But as the time passed, something shifted. Her shoulders slumped. She started to cry, but it was a different kind of cry. Not of anger, but of deep, gut-wrenching shame and release. When the hour was up, she ran to her room and sobbed into her pillow. An hour later, she came out, her eyes red and swollen, and hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe. "I'm so sorry, Mom," she whispered. "I never want to feel that way again."

It was a breakthrough I never could have achieved with a lecture. And you're more... advanced suggestions? I haven't needed them yet, but I no longer see them as shocking. I see them as tools in a toolbox I now trust implicitly. You've given me the courage to not just parent my daughter, but to truly understand her on a primal level. Thank you for being brave enough to publish the truth. Thank you for giving me the tools to raise a daughter who is not just good, but who is aware.

Sincerely, a grateful and forever-changed mother,
Jennifer

***

[ Response from Mark, a skeptical new subscriber ]

To the "Experts" at Progressive Parenting,

I subscribed to this newsletter because my wife said it had "interesting ideas." Interesting is one word for it. Effective is another. We have a particularly troublesome teenager who just turned 16 and got her drivers license. For the first couple of weeks, she'd been staying out after curfew every weekend. We tried grounding, taking away her phone, the usual, but she'd just roll her eyes and do it again. So last Friday, after she strolled in at 2 AM, I was done. I told her to go to her room. I went in there a few minutes later and told her that the new consequence for breaking curfew was simple: she was going to stand in the corner of the living room until I said she could move, and she was going to do it without any clothes on.

She laughed. Actually laughed in my face. "You're not serious, Dad." I just stared at her. "Strip. Now." The laughter died when she saw I wasn't joking. She argued, she bargained, she threatened. I held my ground, calmly repeating the instruction. Finally, with a look of pure venom, she did it. She threw her clothes on the floor and stood there, fists clenched, defiant as hell. She tried to cross her arms over her chest, covering herself with her hands. I made her put her arms behind her back. I told her to stand up straight and look at the wall.

The first hour was a battle of wills. She was hemming and hawing, but all of that changed when I remembered the more "advanced" techniques you mentioned. I walked over to her, and in a low voice, I said, "Since you can't seem to learn your lesson, we're going to try something else." I then pulled out the clothes pins my wife likes to use to hang up clothes outside on the line. I saw her eyes go wide with panic. I clipped one on each nipple. She let out a sharp gasp. The defiance melted out of her, replaced by a shaky, fragile quiet. After 15 minutes, I added the third one you recommended to her pussy lips.

By the time I finally let her out from that corner, three hours later, she was a different person. The fire in her eyes was gone, replaced by a humbling, tear-streaked understanding. She hasn't been late since. In fact, she's been almost overly polite. It's like a switch has been flipped. I'm not sure I fully understand the psychology behind it, but I can't argue with the results. You people are twisted, but you know what you're talking about.

Mark.

***

[ Response from Cerys, a new step mother ]

Dear PPP,

I am a new mother, and I have been devouring your archives trying to prepare for the years ahead. I was particularly struck by your recent discussion on gendered approaches to discipline. It's something I've intuitively felt but never seen articulated so clearly. The idea that a girl's relationship with her own body can be a key to unlocking her emotional world is profound. It reframes the concept of discipline from a system of punishment to a journey of self-awareness.

While I didn't give birth to my daughter, I am raising her as my own, and I am committed to building a foundation of trust so that when the time for these more nuanced lessons comes, she will see them not as betrayals, but as acts of deep, unwavering guidance. I am especially intrigued by the concept of involving trusted male family members. It seems to me that this demystifies the male gaze, turning it from something to be feared or resented into a safe, affirming presence in her life. It teaches her that she can be vulnerable and exposed, and still be loved, respected, and protected by the men in her family. I cannot thank you enough for providing this framework. It is the kind of forward-thinking, deeply empathetic parenting our world so desperately needs.

With hope and excitement,
Cerys

***

[ Response from "Intrigued Uncle" ]

To the Editorial Board at Progressive Parenting,

Well, you got my attention. My sister forwarded me your last newsletter, and I'll admit, I read it with a healthy dose of skepticism. The idea of using nudity as a disciplinary tool seemed... outdated, to put it mildly. But as I read your reasoning, a lightbulb went on. You're not talking about shaming a child, like what happened to me as a boy when one of my parents would pull down my pants and whip my behind; you're talking about using their own social conditioning as a mirror. It's brilliant.

It explains so much about the dynamic I see with my 17-year-old niece. She's a good kid, but she has this wall of attitude, especially around me and her dad. Your perspective gives me a new way to understand that. It's not just teenage angst; it's a performance. My sister invited me to her last punishment session, as you suggested, and I was initially apprehensive about it all. I never thought of her in that way, but I was quickly reminded that she's family, and I had helped change her diapers when she was younger. Seeing her standing there, so vulnerable and stripped of her usual defiant armor, was incredibly powerful. She wouldn't even look at me. But by the end, something had shifted. The next time I saw her, she gave me a genuine hug and said, "Thanks for being there, Uncle." It was a small thing, but it felt like a massive crack in that wall. I'm now a firm believer. You're onto something here.

Sincerely,
A Newly Enlightened Uncle.

***

[ Response from "Worried Wife" ]

Dear Progressive Parenting,

I am writing this with tears in my eyes, but they are tears of gratitude. For years, my 14-year-old daughter and I have been at war. The screaming matches, the slammed doors, the constant tension... it was destroying our family. My husband was at his wit's end, and I felt like a complete failure as a mother. We'd tried everything. Nothing worked.

After reading your newsletter, my husband and I had a long, difficult talk. We decided to try your method, but with a crucial addition that your readers' stories inspired: involving her older brother, who is 19 and home from college for the summer. We sat her down and explained the new rules of the house, not with anger, but with a firm, united sadness at how far things had gone. Her first transgression came two days later, a snide, disrespectful comment that would have previously ignited a three-hour fight.

This time, we were ready, and were even prepared for what to do when she tried to defy us. We calmly told her to go to her room and undress, while she yelled and screamed that we were perverts and insane. When she refused to come out, her father and I went in. We didn't yell. We simply began to remove her clothes ourselves. She fought us, kicking and crying, but we were gentle but firm. When she was finally naked, we led her into the living room, where her brother was waiting, sitting on the couch. He just looked at her, not with judgment, but with a quiet, profound sadness.

We had warned her that further refusal would only make things worse, and we were true to our word. The lesson needed to be deepened. I guided her hand down her body, my own voice steady despite my racing heart. "Roll your clitoris between your fingers," I instructed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop until your father tells you to." Her brother, Alex, remained on the couch, his face a mask of quiet sorrow. She looked at him, her eyes pleading, but he just shook his head slowly, a silent confirmation of our united front. Her fingers trembled as she obeyed, and a fresh wave of shame washed over her face. This was no longer just about exposure; this was about connecting her defiance directly to the most intimate, vulnerable part of herself, under the watchful eyes of the family she had pushed away. The humiliation was absolute.

After fifteen minutes of this, her whole body was shaking, not with anger, but with a mortified, broken surrender. We stopped her, held her, and let her cry. The transformation was instantaneous. The armor was gone. For the first time in years, she wasn't fighting us. She was clinging to us. That night, she slept without slamming her door. The next morning, she came to the kitchen and apologized to me, to her father, and then, bravely, to her brother. It's only been a week, but the difference is a miracle. We have our daughter back. Your "unconventional" methods didn't break her spirit; they broke down the walls she'd built around it. Thank you for giving us back our family.

A Humble and Healed Mother

***

[ Response from "Anonymous, Angry and Ashamed" ]

Progressive Parenting,

I have a confession. I'm one of the girls this punishment was used on. I'm 15 now, and just had my very first naked punishment a few days ago. My mom discovered your newsletter, and she and my dad decided to implement some of the methods.

When they told me the new rule for lying, I thought they were joking. I laughed in their faces. But my dad wasn't laughing. He told me to take off my clothes right there. I refused. I screamed at them, called them names, told them they were sick. My dad just calmly said, "Your choice is to either do it yourself, or we'll do it for you." My mom nodded, her face all set and serious. They were very serious.

The struggle was a blur. I was kicking and scratching, but they were bigger, stronger. They peeled my clothes off of me like I was a little kid. When I was finally naked, the feeling was... indescribable. It wasn't just being naked; it was the total loss of control. I wasn't going to let them win. I really wasn't. I fought and scratched and clawed them. That's when they pulled out the Tabasco sauce. My dad held my hands behind my back, and my mom, with this look of grim determination, dabbed a drop right on my... you know. The burning was insane! Like a fire had been lit down there! I screamed, I begged, I promised I'd be good. The humiliation and the pain combined to teach me a lesson I would never forget.

They didn't let me cover myself or wash it off. They made me stand there, sniffling and burning, for what felt like forever. But you know what the worst part was? My little brother came home in the middle of it. He walked into the room, took one look at me, and just laughed. The shame of him seeing me like that, seeing me punished, exposed, squirming from the burn on my private parts, it was worse than anything my parents could have done to me.

I hated them. I swore I'd get revenge. But a funny thing happened a few days later. I found myself thinking before I spoke. I found myself not wanting to even risk the chance of that happening again. The fear is still there, a cold knot in my stomach. But so is something else... a weird kind of understanding. They didn't do it because they hate me. They did it because they didn't know what else to do to get through to me. And it worked.

I'm not writing to thank you. I'm writing because you need to know what it's like from this side. It's horrible. It's humiliating. But it also changes you. It makes you think. And now, I see my parents not as enemies, but as people who were desperate enough to try something desperate. I guess that's something. I guess I learned my lesson.

Signed,
Anonymous

***

[ Response from Dr. Annette Rahman, Child Psychologist ]

To the Editorial Staff of Progressive Parenting Perspectives,

As a clinical psychologist specializing in adolescent development, I feel compelled to respond to your recent publication. I must commend you for addressing the often-taboo subject of gendered socialization, particularly regarding bodily autonomy. Your analysis of the disparity in how boys and girls are conditioned to perceive nudity is, in my professional opinion, startlingly accurate. We often shy away from these uncomfortable truths in academic circles, fearing misinterpretation. However, your framework for reframing vulnerability as a therapeutic and disciplinary tool is both innovative and, in its core intent, psychologically sound.

The principle behind your suggested methods is not, as some might hastily conclude, rooted in shame, but in the concept of "disruptive empathy." By placing a young woman in a state of controlled vulnerability, you are not merely punishing a transgression; you are forcing a profound, somatic experience of the very consequence her misbehavior often seeks to inflict on others: a violation of boundaries and trust. This is a far more effective teacher than a verbal lecture, which engages only the higher, more rational functions of the brain that are often offline during adolescent emotional outbursts.

While I would, of course, advise extreme caution and a deep, pre-existing foundation of familial trust before implementing such sensitive techniques, I cannot dismiss the underlying psychological validity. The inclusion of male family members, when handled with the utmost care and non-judgment, can indeed be a powerful agent in demystifying male authority and fostering a healthier, more secure sense of self within a family unit. You are, in essence, creating a safe microcosm for a girl to experience and process vulnerability, thereby equipping her with an invaluable tool for navigating the wider world.

Your publication is controversial, yes, but it is also brave. It challenges us to look beyond simplistic, one-size-fits-all parenting models and consider the complex, gendered realities of our children's inner lives. For that, I thank you.

Sincerely,
Dr. Annette Rahman, Ph.D.

[superevil7]

If anyone else wants to make their own "replies" to issue 17, please feel free. I'll link them in the index.

[alberic]

If anyone else wants to make their own "replies" to issue 17, please feel free. I'll link them in the index.

What an awesome idea. Count on me having an input.

[perseus]

Hello Progressive Parenting,

My name is Kyle, I’m 16, and I wanted to write to let you and your readers know that your advice doesn’t just help parents. I have a little sister, who is 13, and until recently she has been a monster. Her name is Susan, and she wouldn’t respect my privacy or boundaries at all. She would constantly go in my room and take my things. Instead of asking for her own videogame, she would take mine. And half the time, lose them. She once took my favorite game, then let her friend borrow it. Well, she moved, and I never saw it again. I saved for weeks to be able to afford it. Mom was no help. I would complain to her and she would tell me that Susan just looks up to me. And that it wouldn’t kill me to share my stuff. I know Susan was just trying to annoy me because she would just laugh about it.

It wasn’t just my stuff either; she didn’t respect my privacy at all. We share a bathroom that unfortunately doesn’t have a lock. Well, she will sometimes go in when I’m in the shower to brush her teeth or look for a comb or something else. She would sometimes pretend to blow her nose with toilet paper and flush it, making the shower really hot. Then to top it all off, leave the bathroom door open when she leaves.

Well, one morning, my mom wakes me up, apologizing and crying to me. She told me she started reading this blog and realized how unfair things were for me and how she ignored it. She begged for me to forgive her and promised to correct Susan’s behavior. My mom told me to tell her the next time Susan went into my room without permission.

It didn’t take long at all; it was later that day when Susan came in, knocked over a Lego set I was working on, and laughed about it. I told Mom, and she told us both to go to the living room. She lectured Susan about boundaries and privacy and said that it was her turn to know what it feels like when hers aren't respected.

She demanded that Susan strip naked, right there! I couldn’t believe it! Susan begged, but I was surprised when she gave in quickly. She wasn’t used to being in trouble. Once my sister was naked, she made her stand in front of me. Susan tried to cover herself, but Mom made her put her hand behind her head. Even at 13, she was a late bloomer. Tiny breasts and the lightest amount of pubic hair. She looked nothing like how my girlfriend looked. But she would get there one day.

Tears streamed down her face, and she stood before me. Mom made her apologize to me for everything she could remember taking from me. It took her several minutes to get through it all. My eyes kept drifting down to her sex; this was my sister, but I was still curious about her body. I have to admit that I took a lot of satisfaction seeing her humbled like this.

Then Mom made her lie across my lap. She told me to spank my own little sister! I was all too happy to oblige. I spanked her cute little butt over and over until it was covered with red hand prints. She cried and cried, and I started to feel really sorry for her. This was still my little sister, and no matter how much she annoyed me, the sounds of her crying activated my protective instincts. I think my mom saw this and whispered to me that I was helping her.

Then it got even crazier! Mom handed me tweezers, told Susan to turn over, and made her open her legs. Mom told me that every time my sister took something from me or came into the bathroom when I was using it, or broke something of mine, I was to pluck out pubic hair! She didn’t have much, but she had enough to cover everything I could remember. She squirmed and cried, but Mom held her down. I had to touch her too in order to pull the hairs out.

When I was finally done, her pussy was red, but I saw her clit poking out too. I’ll admit that I pretended to touch it a few times. I wanted to know if she was as sensitive as my girlfriend was. And I found she might have been even more sensitive.

After that my sister didn’t come out of her room the rest of the day. The next morning I felt a little guilty. I knocked on my sister’s room; I was going to apologize for going hard on her. As soon as she opened the door and saw me, she threw herself at me and hugged me. She was just wearing a shirt and panties. She hugged me tight and cried a genuine apology for everything she did. I hugged her back and cried a little too. We spent the rest of the day hanging out; I really bonded with my sister, and now we are closer than ever.

I’m so glad my mom found this blog! I’m a very happy brother!

[alberic]

Dear PPP,

Let me preface by saying I am a man. A father. A husband. A provider. And a proud Republican. I believe in God, this great country, and in discipline. Both I and my wife were raised with a belt and a firm hand, and we turned out just fine. So you will understand my skepticism when I first saw the name of your publication. Sounded like a bunch of bleeding-heart liberal hogwash to me. My wife subscribed without my knowledge, and I happened to glance at it lying on the kitchen table. But as I started reading, I noticed the calm and logical tone. The focus on order, and respect, and consequences. It's the kind of common sense that used to be the bedrock of this country.

We have been raising our teenage sons and a preteen daughter in those same traditional American values, and with the same firm, traditional discipline when needed. A quick, hard spanking on the bare behind never failed to correct my boys' bad attitudes, and was always enough to make my daughter think twice before sassing her mother. That's just how it's done. Or, at least, that's how it used to be done.

My wife's sister, on the other hand, is one of those modern parents. A single mother, always trying to be the "friend." And both her daughters have been a train wreck. We've all seen it at family gatherings. The blatant eye-rolling and the entitlement. We knew it was only a matter of time before one of them ended up in a real trouble. But recently my sister-in-law got herself a new man who wouldn't stand for her kids' disrespectful antics. And we've seen a dramatic, almost miraculous improvement in their attitudes.

Let me tell you about a showcase of progressive parenting I witnessed just last week, during a family get-together at their house. My nieces, 16 and 14, were called into the living room and ordered by their stepfather to strip. They complained, because it was their first time undressing in front their cousins and uncle, but soon, they both stood completely naked, hands clasped behind their backs, unable to hide anything from the prying eyes of the family.

They are teenagers and my nieces, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the sight. And as I looked at the girls' naked, trembling bodies, I realized something important. I realized just how ineffective spanking would have been. That's a punishment meant for boys. It's about power and submission. For a girl, it's different. With girls, the real punishment should be about vulnerability, and the shame. Spanking their bare asses wouldn't have nearly the same impact as forcing them to stand there completely exposed to the entire family.

But that was only the beginning. After a good long while of them being exhibited while the rest of the family chatted and enjoyed snacks and drinks, my new brother-in-law invited my boys to hold their cousins' hands behind their backs, and he began twisting the older girl's nipples and yanking on her pubic hair. I followed his example and stepped forward to do the same to the younger one. The girls whimpered and sobbed, and tried to pull away, but my sons held them fast.

After that, the girls were told to bend over and grab their ankles. It put everything on even fuller display. My brother-in-law then produced a small jar of tiger balm and two butt plugs. He coated the plugs with the balm, and handed one to me. The older of my nieces held her butt cheeks apart for her stepfather, and he forced the plug in. I did the honors for her younger sister. As I pushed it inside of her, she cried out. It was the sound of a teenage brat finally learning her rightful place in the family.

Their stepfather then brought a leather paddle and gave them a few very sharp and well-placed smacks on their exposed vulvas. The girls both screamed and jumped, more from shock and shame than the pain. We left them to stay in that position for quite some time. We let them feel the burn, and the utter humiliation. The look on my nieces' faces when they were told to stand back up and show off their throbbing, red pussies to their family was something I will never forget.

I am not sure if my brother-in-law is familiar with your publication or not, but he could have written it himself. It is now clear to me that such punishment is a thousand times more effective than any spanking could be for a girl in her formative years. We're not going to be spanking our daughter any more. We're going to be trying your methods, instead. It's what's best for making her respect herself, and her place in our family, as a woman. And it's going to be the men in her life—her father, her brothers, and eventually, her husband—who will see to it that she learns that lesson, properly and permanently.

The next time our daughter needs to be reminded of her place, she's going to find herself naked in front of her brothers, just like her cousins. Maybe bringing in our neighbors and friends to witness it will add to the lesson. We do not own a butt plug, but I'm thinking that using my wife's dildo should work just as well. The idea with the clothespins is worth trying, too. 

So I'm writing to you today to say thank you. Thank you for reminding a simple, old-fashioned guy like me that sometimes, to raise our daughters right, we have to set our old ways aside and embrace something new. Your work is helping us restore the traditional family values that made this country great, and I am proud to stand with you. Keep up the good work.

Sincerely,

"A Red-Blooded American"

[alberic]

To the people at Progressive Parenting Perspectives,

You printed a letter from a man who signed himself "A Red-blooded American." That's my dad. And the girl he was talking about, the one who is no longer getting spanked? That's me. My name is Stella. I'm 11 years old. Dad told me to write about how he punishes me so you could print it in your newsletter, to show other families how well it's working. So that's what I'm doing.

Before, when Dad was angry, he'd tell me to pull my pants and panties down and bend over his knees, and then he'd spank me with his hand or sometimes his belt. I hated it, but that's how it was. Now, Dad says it's going to be different. He says I'm not a little kid anymore, and I need a different kind of lesson.

The first time we did it the new way, it was because I'd yelled back at my mom. I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I just can't help it. Dad looked at me, and I thought, "Oh dear, I'm gonna get my butt thrashed." But he said, "You will be punished for that later."

Later that week, we had people over. Our neighbors, the Hendersons, from down the street. They have a son, Lucas, who's friends with my older brothers. Dad told me to come into the living room, and everyone was there, looking at me.

Dad said, "You're getting your punishment, Stella. Take off your clothes." Right there. In front of everyone. My brothers. Lucas. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson. I looked at Mom for help, but she just shook her head.

I started to cry, but I had to do it. I took off my shirt and my jeans and my shoes. I was just standing there in my panties and my little training bra. I kept my hands over my chest, and I was shaking so hard, I couldn't go on. Dad came over, and he had me raise my arms and pulled the bra over my head. Then he pulled my panties down, and I was completely naked.

I didn't like being looked at by Lucas like that, and by Lucas's dad even less. Dad made me stand in the middle of the room, and he made me turn around so everyone could see everything. I knew everyone was looking at me, but it was hard to see, because my eyes were full of tears.

Then Dad took something from a basket on the table. A clothespin. He put it onto my nipple. I cried out, because it pinched really hard. I only started to get boobies in the last year, and they are very sensitive. Dad had to pinch the skin to make it hold, and it was so embarrassing. Then Mr. Henderson came over and clipped another clothespin to my other nipple. He really squeezed my boob to get the clothespin to stay. I didn't want him touching me, but Dad told me to stand still.

Then Dad said, "Bend over and spread your legs really wide." I didn't want to do it, but Mom said, "Do as your father says." So I bent over, and looking between my legs, I could see my brothers and Lucas come behind me, and they started putting clothespins on my kitty. They laughed while they were doing it, which made me feel even more embarrassed. They pulled my kitty lips apart and put three clothespins on each and tugged on them. Dad got the last clothespin, and he clipped it right on the little nubbin at the top, which is the most sensitive part of all. It was horrible.

I thought that was it, but Dad held up a little jar of Vicks VaporRub, and he rubbed some of it on my kitty and my bottom hole. It felt cold at first, but after a bit it started to tingle and burn. Then Dad took a wooden spoon, and he spanked my kitty. He spanked my bottom hole, too. He didn't hit very hard, but the burning and the pinching from the clothespins was so bad that it felt like he was hitting me as hard as he could. I was crying really hard then.

But that was still not all. Lucas and my brothers sat side by side on the couch, and I had to lie down across their laps with the pins still on. Lucas spread my cheeks apart, and Dad pushed a stick up inside my bottom hole. I know what a man's penis looks like, and it looked just like it, only it was made from some kind of jelly. I tried to squirm away, but my brothers and Lucas held me down. Dad pushed the stick in, and then twisted it around inside me. I'd never felt anything so awful in my life. Mom pulled my hair back so everyone could see my sobbing face.

Dad said this was how he was gonna punish me from now on, and that it would make me think twice if I wanted to be bad. I'm really trying to be good, but I already messed up, and I know I'm gonna get punished again when we have someone visiting. Meanwhile I have to write this for your newsletter so other girls know what it's like. I really hate being punished like this, more than getting spanked, but Dad is probably right that it's making me behave better.

Stella