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Here's a new RR spanking tale I hope you will enjoy.

Any comments
will be apprecited.
This happened some ten years ago when I was a kid of twelve. I was in
my bedroom playing my new video game when a knock came on my door.
When I opened it there stood my eighteen year old sister. She was
dressed as she was much of time in red shorts and white T-shirt. My
very sexy and also very annoying big sister. I said to her, "What do
you want?"
"Can we talk, Mike?" I was a little surprised that she actually
wanted to speak to me. Normally she did her best to avoid me.
I shrugged and replied, "Okay but make it quick, I want to play my
game."
"It won't take too long." I let her inside and she sat herself down
on my bed. She gestured for me to sit beside her. What's going on
here? I was thinking. I settled myself on the bed beside her,
wondering what this was all about. I waited for her to start the
conversation.
After a few moments she told me, "I know I've been very mean to you
and Mom just lately. I stay out very late and I answer Mom back and
swear at her. Since our Dad passed away it's been hard for her to
bring us up on her own and I never appreciated that before. I've
started drinking and doing other stuff that I won't go into with you
but I know I could turn out very bad if I keep on the way I am. I've
been talking to some of my friends at the high school and they said I
needed some correction before I get out of hand. Some of the girls
and even one or two of the boys still get spanked at home for bad
behaviour by their fathers and their mothers too. At eighteen, can
you believe it!"
I found myself wondering where all this was leading. I said, "You
mean you think you need a good spanking for being such a bitch. Why
not just ask Mom to give you one. I'm pretty sure she'd like to.
What are you coming to me for?"
She answered, "You're right, little bro, I AM a bitch and I'm sorry
for not being more considerate towards you and our Mom. I've already
asked her to do it to me but she told me I'm a grown woman and much
too old for that sort of punishment but I don't think I am. I feel
very guilty about the things I've done and I think I deserve the same
kind of punishment some of my classmates are still getting. That's
why I came to you, Mike. If our mother isn't going to spank me I
thought maybe you could do it."
I didn't know what to say at first. I suppose that deep down I had
always wanted to get back at my sister for all the shitty things she
had done to me but I had not expected this at all. It took a little
while to take it in and then I told her, "Come on, Jenny, I'm a kid.
I'm only twelve. I don't think it's right and proper for me to do it
and I'm not sure I could do it anyway."
Jennifer responded by saying, "Please do it, Mike. There wouldn't be
anything wrong with it just because you're my little brother. I think
you are capable of giving me a really hard spanking and that's what
you should do. I want you to put me across your knee and spank me
until you make me cry." She was pleading with me now.
Still I was reluctant. "I don't feel right about doing this, sis!
You really sure you want it?"
She looked at me and said, "I need you to do this to me. When you do

it just might encourage me to behave better. If not then I might need


a second spanking and a third. When you do you've got to mean it. Do
it as hard as you can. This isn't a game, Mike. It got to be for
real. My bottom has got to hurt a lot. You've got to make me cry.
Can you do it for me?"
I could see no way out. "All right, if that's what you want. Get
over my knee!" She rose to her feet and then placed her 135lb frame
over my lap.
It was all I could do to hold her over my lap I can tell you. Her
large shapely bottom clad in red cotton shorts sat in the centre. Now
that I had her draped over my knee this way I realised I was a little
less unwilling then before. Maybe she DID deserve some of this and
her big well defined backside did make an inviting target. Well, she
had asked, no BEGGED for this, and now she was going to get it.
I raised my hand high about to deliver the first smack. I was
strongly tempted to pull down her shorts and panties and give her a
bare assed spanking but thought better of it. NOT THIS TIME! I
thought. I brought my hand down and it connected squarely with her
bottom cheeks. She let out a cry and I knew that enough of those
would make her butt very sore and reduce her to tears. This was going
to be for real all right.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
Here I was, a twelve year old boy giving his grown up sister a very
painful ass whipping. My palm desended to her backside time and time
again. She had started to cry but I kept on spanking her. Guess I
was caught up in the moment. I just spanked until I couldn't spank
anymore. Her bottom was a deep red by now and she was crying
uncontrolably. She had been well and truely disciplined.
I realised that my hand was hurting a little but probably not nearly
as much as my sister's rear. I let her up off my lap and she just
stood in the middle of the room for a few minutes still crying and
holding her chastised backside. Neither of us said anything for quite
some time. Then she suddenly walked over to where I still sat on the
bed and she sat herself down in my lap. This was crazy! She was
bigger then me. She put her arms around me and cried on my shoulder
for several minutes.
I smothered her with kisses and did my best to comfort her. She
promised to be a good girl and not get into trouble anymore. It was
as if I was her father instead of her young brother. It was kind
strange and embarressing to be in this role I must admit. I was
pretty sure this wouldn't be the only time I would be required to
punish her this way.
She just cried herself to sleep on my lap. I didn't want to wake her
so I stood up still holding her in my arms. She was really too heavy
for me to carry but somehow I carried her. I was a fairly strong kid
for my age and I carried her out of my room and down the hallway to
her own bedroom. I put her down on her own bed and then kissed her
goodnight. I knew from that day onwards that things were going to be
a lot different between us and that our relationship had changed
forever. Like to hear more? Let me know.
Here is the second part of my story about how a 12 year old boy finds
himself in charge of his often wayward 18 year old sister and must
discipline her when the occasion demands it. You should read the
first part prior to this to fully understand and appreciate it. As
always I welcome your comments.
As I sat alone in my bedroom watching my portable TV there came a
knock on my door. I had an idea who it was so I answered, "Come in,
Jenny, it's not locked!"

The door swung open and there stood my blonde, quite attractive 18
year old sister. She stood about three inches taller then me and
right then she was dressed in her shorts and a yellow top. I think
that she deliberately dressed this way just for this occasion. Ours
was a quite normal brother-sister relationship (or had been until
now). Sometimes I adored her, other times I felt like killing her and
I'm sure that she felt the same way about me. She was legally an
adult now and she would soon be ready for college yet in many ways she
still acted like a little girl who needed a firm hand. I was six
years younger then her but our mother often told me that I was older
in that I was more responsible and mature.
I swiched off my TV and turned around to face Jennifer. She was
giving me that look which told me she had come to me for punishment
just as she had a month previously. I came straight to the point and
demanded of her, "So why are you here, sis, what did you do this
time?"
"I did a very bad thing last night, Mike!" She told me. "I went out
with some friends from school and we all got a little drunk. I drove
Mom's car back and I ran it into a street lamp and just drove off
before the police or anybody saw me. I really dented the front of her
car. She didn't look at all happy when she saw it this morning. Her
insurance should take care of it, she's taken it down to the garage
now. I think she should have punished me for doing something so
stupid but she never does. Don't you think I should I should be
punished?"
I regarded her for a moment and then nodded. "That was a really bad
thing you did, sis, you're old enough to know better!" I gestured for
her to come over to where I was sitting in a small wooden chair near
the portable TV. When she was standing next to me I asked her, "Have
you been behaving yourself, Jenny?" She replied that she hadn't. "So
you should be spanked, shouldn't you!" She nodded. "Pull down your
shorts!" I ordered her.
She lowered her red shorts until they were lying on the carpeted floor
and she stepped out of them. I grabbed her wrist and asked her, "Are
you too big for my knee, missy?" She said that she was not. "So get
over it!" She placed herself across my lap and because she was taller
then me both her hands and feet dragged on the floor. All that
covered her well developed backside was a pair of thin cotton briefs.
"Panties down for you, young lady!" I don't think she had expected
this but despite her protests and her kicking legs I had soon lowered
them and they joined her shorts on the bedroom floor.
So now she naked from the waist down and completely helpless over her
little brother's knee. The first time I had done this it did seem
pretty weird and unnatural but now it felt rather cool and I was more
into my role. This time I had gone a step further. I had bared her
bottom just like the daddy of a naughty little girl would do. Her
struggles and resistance made my task all for more all the more
enjoyable. It's a funny thing to say, I know, but that's how I felt.
I informed Jennifer then, "I'm gonna have to teach you a very painful
lesson, missy, one you won't ever forget. You won't be sitting down
for quite awhile but it's for your own good. You'll think twice
before you wreck Mom's car again. She should've done this a long time
ago so I wouldn't have to."

My small but hard hand came down on her unprotected ass and she cried
out. I spanked her as hard as I could and I knew that would be hard
enough to make her bottom very sore and uncomfortable and make her cry
like a little kid as it had the last time. No holding back, she
needed a good thrashing to straighten her out. I was doing this
because I suppose I was a little pissed at her for damaging Mom's car
and I thought she was getting away with too much but there was also
another reason. I was beginning to relish the prospect of smacking
that lovely naked bottom draped over my lap. This was a natural
reaction for a young kid, I suppose.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
As before I just let her have it until my arm grew tired and my hand
began to hurt after delivering so many swats to my sister's now deep
crimson butt. She was sobbing uncontrolably so I figured she'd been
spanked enough that day. I let her remain over my lap for awhile
until she composed herself a little and then I told her, "All right,
get up and go and stand in the corner and stay there until I say you
can come out, okay!"
I didn't have to tell her twice. She rose to her feet and made her
way to the corner still naked below her waist. As she stood there I
admired her lower region. Nice shapely backside although red and sore
just then. Nice virgina, nice legs, nice body all round, one many
girls would envy. Being in control on my older sister gave me certain
privileges that most boys my age wouldn't have. I intended to make
the most of my newly found authority while it lasted.
After about twenty minutes I told her she could come out of the corner
and she had to go to her own bedroom now. Then another idea came to
me. As she walked towards the door I grabbed her upper arm and spun
her around so she faced me. "What are you doing?" she asked me in a
shaky voice.
"I'm taking you to your room, what else!" As I said before, I was
quite strong for my age. To my sister's surprise, I bent down, threw
her over my shoulder and picked her up in a fireman's carry. She was
immediately screaming and kicking her legs in protest.
"You put me down, Mike Hall, I can walk there myself!"
"Sure you can, sis, but it's more fun if I carry you!" More fun for
ME of course. This was part of her punishment, a part she didn't
expect. What better punishment then for a big sister then to be
manhandled and forcefully carried to her room by a 12 year old kid.
What better demonstration of strength and power. I made my way out of
my room and down the hallway with my indignant sister thrashing her
legs and struggling to get down from my shoulder. I just loved it
when she did that. Her large bare spanked bottom hung over my
shoulder and I gave it another hard spank to quieten her down. She
let out a yelp and I warned her, "Behave yourself, girl, or do you
want some more!"
I transported my hefty sibling all the way to her bedroom and when I
had gotten her there she was quite heavy. I placed her down on her
own bed and not too gently. I wanted her to know who wore the pants
in this household. I left her alone for a few moments and returned
with her shorts and panties. I gave them to her and said, "These

belong to you!" She painfully put them on again.


I regarded my well punished and totally humiliated big sister and
asked her, "Well, Jenny, have you learned your lesson or should I
spank your naughty bottom some more?" She replied that she didn't
think her bottom could take any more wallops and she was sorry for
causing Mom so much trouble. I informed her, "I didn't really like
doing that, sis, but if Mom won't I guess I'll have to. I'm warning
you, if you do anything like that again I'll take down your panties
again and I'll use a hairbrush and that'll hurt a lot more then my
hand, okay!"
She nodded that she understood. I kissed her forehead and then I left
her room. I went back to my own room but I didn't watch any more TV.
My mind was in overdrive thinking about the events of that day. Twice
now I had spanked my adult sister and each time she had accepted it
without resentment although it must have hurt a lot. I don't think
she had been very happy to carried to her room like that by her little
brother. That was for me and not her. I just knew that Jennifer
would do something in the next few weeks to deserve that hair brush
spanking I had promised her and I actually looked foward to that
time. Funny situation and that's how it would be between us for the
foreseeable future. That night, as I lay in my bed, I dreamed about
my sister lying completely naked across my knee receiving the spanking
of her life with a hair brush. I was quite sure that it would all be
a reality fairly soon.
Disciplining Mom by Legs Eleven m/F role reversal
Danny Jenkins was getting quite worried now. His mother should have
been back home about two hours ago. She had gone to the local bridge
club as she always did on Wednesday nights to meet up with her friends
in the neighbourhood. She was normally back by ten o'clock sharp. On
this particular night she had not even called home to say she would be
late.
Danny, who was a very bright and mature boy for his age, thought what
a good Mom she had been for the twelve years of his life and he knew
that he would feel terrible if something had happened to her. He
paced the living room floor, wondering what he should do. His Dad was
away on business for a few days and couldn't be reached. He was
considering calling out the police when he heard a sound at the front
door. He went out into the hallway and saw his mother standing
there. He felt a sigh of relief and said to her, "Where have you
been, Mom? I was worried about you. You could've told me what you
were doing."
Sandra Jenkins looked at her young son. She was a quite tall lady of
almost six feet so she therefore stood head and shoulders above him.
She could see that he was rather angry with her at that moment and
told him, "I'm really sorry, darling. I was having a few drinks with
a couple of the girls and we got into a long conversation. I just
forgot about the time."
A few drinks! Danny was thinking. He could smell booze on her breath
and she seemed a little drunk from her slurred speech. He said in a
very angry tone, "You drove the car back here after you'd been
drinking! That was really stupid, Mom. What if you'd had a bad
accident? What if the cops stopped you? I thought you were smarter
then that."

Sandra replied, "Oh, honey, it's only a couple of miles from the
bridge club to here and I did drive carefully. I'm sorry I didn't let
you know but I'm just fine as you can see. It won't happen again, I
promise you."
She realised, however, that her only child was really mad at her for
worrying him like that. He informed her then, "I think Dad should be
told about this. He always thought you were responsible and could be
trusted with the car but I guess he was wrong."
His mother pleaded with him then, "Oh, Danny, please don't tell him.
He's bound to take the car keys off me and I'd never be able to use it
again. I know I did a bad thing. I told you I won't do it again and
I meant it."
The boy shrugged. "I don't know if I can believe you or not. It was
really dumb what you did tonight, Mom, but I won't let Dad know.
Still, I don't think I should let you get away with it. If I do
you're sure to do it again and something awful could happen next
time. I think you should be punished."
The thirty two year old woman regarded her pre-teen son curiously.
"Punish me! What are you talking about?"
Danny replied, "If I do a bad thing you or Dad give me a good
spanking and that's what I'll have to do to you now, Mom. I don't
care if you are a grown up, you need a good spanking and you're
getting one right now."
Even in her slightly drunken state Sandra was a little shocked by her
son's intentions. He came over to where she stood by the front door
and took hold of her arm. His actions made her drop her handbag. She
said in a protesting voice, "Now look here, young man, what do you
think you are doing?"
The boy began to drag her into the living room. She offered only
token resistance perhaps because she dreaded her husband finding out
about her behaviour tonight and maybe also something in the twelve
year olds' manner made her obey him. Over the last minute or two she
had certainly sobered up considerably. Danny took her into the
spacious lounge and then released her arm. He sat down on one of the
large armchairs in the room and then ordered his mother, "Get over my
knee!"
His flabbergasted parent just stood motionless for a moment and then
blurted out, "Look, Danny, I don't have to take this!"
"I mean it, Mom!" She knew that he did. She and her son usually got
on so well together and she had never known him to be so furious with
her. She realised that their relationship in the future could well
depend on what she did now. She resigned herself to her fate and
placed her 130 pound frame over her considerably smaller son's lap.
Here she was, upended and about to receive a very humilating bottom
smacking from a twelve year old kid! Next thing she knew Danny raised
her blue mini-skirt above her waist and her silky pink panties were
now on full display. The boy commented, "I don't know why you wear
those short skirts at your age, Mom!"
At MY age! she thought. Why you cheeky little punk!

To her further amazment his fingers were groping inside the waistband
of her panties and then he began to tug them down. Sandra screamed at
her son in protest, "You stop it, you hear me, Danny Jenkins! This
is undignified, I'm a grown woman!" She began to kick her legs and
thrash around on his lap but she knew that in her present position she
was helpless. She could not get up.
"Yeah, well you sure didn't act like one tonight!" was the lad's
reply. By now his mother's underwear lay on the carpeted floor and
her large well curved bottom was on full display, sitting in the
centre of the boy's lap, waiting to be spanked. He didn't waste any
time. His raised his palm high and proceded to soundly spank his
mother's bared butt cheeks. The first smack landed hard and square.
The outraged woman felt the sting immediately and let out a cry. She
knew this was not going to be pleasent at all.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
Danny just kept on punishing his Mom's now quite red bum. He was not
going to stop until it was redder still and he had her crying. He
didn't like doing this to her but she had to be taught a good lesson.
She had done a very naughty thing this evening and he had to be sure
she didn't make that mistake again. She was certainly getting a
spanking she wouldn't soon forget. A big woman she was but she would
know from that day onwards that she was still not too big for a good
bottom blistering over the knee of a twelve year old child.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
SMACK!
Danny delivered each swat as hard as he could. His unfortunate mother
had not expected such hurtful blows from someone his age and size.
Her buttock cheeks were now a deep crimson and very painful. She
began to cry uncontrollably. She begged him, "Oh, please, no more,
Danny. It hurts so much. I promise to behave myself in future. I'll
be good, I will. Please don't spank me anymore."
The boy was as glad it was over as was his by now extremely sore
bottomed parent. A woman her size being spanked into submission by a
small boy must have been a demorolising experience to say the least.
He knew she would think twice before doing anything so irresponsible
again. He decided she'd received enough punishment and helped her get
off his lap. After she picked up her panties from the floor with
tears running down her cheeks her son ordered her, "Now go to your
room, Sandra Jenkins, and think about what you did!" He knew that
talking to her like a little girl made her punishment complete.
She made her way upstairs without arguement. While he hadn't really
relished having to spank her he had to admit that being the one in
charge for a change did feel pretty cool. Not that he had planned it
that way, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He had been really
pissed with her for worrying him like that and made it clear to her in
no uncertain terms. He was quite surprised himself how effective the
spanking had proved to be. Before long he decided to make tracks to
his own bedroom. He slept quite well that night. For his mother, on
the other hand, it was a long and uncomfortable night and for most of
it she had to lay on her tummy.

Next morning, when young Danny Jenkins came downstairs and made his
way to the kitchen, he saw that his mother was already making
breakfast. When she saw him she gave him a warm smile, there was no
animosity at all. Even though she grimaced a little due to her still
smarting behind she appeared to be none the worst for her ordeal of
the previous night. She told him, "There are some coco pops on the
table for you, sweetie. Come and sit down. They're your favourites,
aren't they!"
He nodded and thanked her for them, surprised she was even speaking to
him after the way he'd tanned her hide just a few hours before. He
sat down and ate the breakfast cereal in silence, not sure what he
should say to her. When he had finished eating he set the breakfast
bowel down on the table and turned to face his mother. After a
moment's hesitation he asked her, "How's your butt today, Mom? Guess
it still hurts, huh! I shouldn't have done it so hard."
Her reply came without any hesitation. "Well, I won't be sitting down
comfortably for the next day or two but I imagine I'll get over it. I
didn't have the most comfortable of nights but I did bring it on
myself." Her precocious son was about to say something but she put
out her hand to silence him. "Don't say you're sorry for doing it, I
don't want to hear it. After you whipped my ass last night you told
me to think about what I'd done and I had plenty of time to do that,
believe me! It was very thoughtless and selish of me to come home so
late and not even tell you. As for drinking and driving, there are
just no excuses for that. I had it coming, son. May I say that
considering you never spanked anyone before you did a great job, well
done! You could well be one of the great spankers one day. I don't
envy your kids when you have some of your own. I am proud of you and,
if we could tell your father about this, I think he would be too. I
doubt he could have done any better himself."
Danny was rather curious about this last statement by his mother.
"You mean Dad spanks you!"
Sandra gave a wry smile. "Oh, he has done a couple of times. Like
father, like son I suppose. But I can tell you he has never done it
to me as hard as you did. Even so I'm glad it was you I had to face
instead of him. I would lose all my car privileges and there would be
no more bridge club for me. Maybe you've changed the rules about who
should punish who around here but rules are there to be broken. It's
not always kids who require discipline. I was certainly taught
something about humility last night but, no matter what they say,
humility is something we all need at some time or other. I think you
did the right thing and I don't hold it against you, Danny." She held
out her hand. "Friends again?"
Her young offspring was delighted his mother was taking it this way.
He got up from the breakfast table and came over to where she stood.
He extended his own hand and soon they were shaking hands like old
friends. The handshake then turned into a warm embrace. Sandra
grabbed her son in a bear hug and lifted him clear off his feet. He
protested, "Mom, put me down, you're squeezing the life out of me!"
She set him back on the ground again but still held him in her arms.
He said to her, "I'm sure glad you're not sore anymore, Mom!"
His mother placed a hand on her still stinging bottom and replied,
"Actually I am, son, but not at you." They both laughed at this.

So nothing really changed between mother and son after that memorable
day, nothing drastic anyway. However, they did come to a new
understanding. In the absence of his father, Danny Jenkins was the
man of the house. If his mother did something bad enough to warrant
punishment then it would be up to him to carry it out. He hoped
though that he would never have to be in that position again.
Spanking your Mom was not something you would want to get into the
habit of doing. He really hoped that this would be the only time.
That then is the end of this installment and I hope you all liked it.
If you would like to read more about this particular mother and son
This is based on a real-life situation that happened to a good friend
of mine. I know all the people in the story quite well,so I'm really
only relaying the facts, not writing or creating any fiction. So, I
apologize if this isn't as exciting as it could be, it's just what
happened!
-------------Barbara woke up that Saturday morning feeling like she always did on
Saturday mornings, lazy! She had every intention of kicking back that
morning and watching a show, where she'd veg' until noon and then go
shopping at the mall. Later that night, she'd be picked up by her
boyfriend, and they'd go see a movie. Just a typical Saturday.
Barbara dressed casually, afterall, who was she trying to impress, and
meandered down to her favorite spot on the couch to catch a cartoon or
two before lunch and her trip to the mall. Only problem was, as she
entered the family room, who should be sitting in her favorite spot
and watching Saturday morning wresling, but her creepy little brother,
Donny, who was five years her junior.
Ths little fact did little to deter Barbara from her original plan.
She merely walked up to Donny and stated emphatically, "Move it, worm!
I'm watching cartoons!"
Donny looked up, and recited well established family rules in this
situation, "Hey, I was here first!"
Barbara was unimpressed with Donny's knowledge of family parliamentary
procedure and let him know it by grabbing the remote and promptly
changing the channel!
True, Donny had been there first, but, it diidn't matter if Barbara
didn't care, and, she didn't!
"Hey, you change that back!"...and this was the next required response
in this game of family dynamics, "Or I'll tell mom!"
Normally, this would have trumped Barbara's disdain for family rules,
but, since it had been two years since mom had taken Barbara across
her maternal knee for a solid dose of the maternal hairbrush, Barbara
recognized this maneuver for what it was, a bluff at best!
Barbara responded by seating herself in such a manner on the couch to
force Donny from the "sweet spot" and cause him to fall to the floor!
"Hey, that's not fair. You give me that remote and get up or..."

"Or what, my creepy little worm?"


Well, that had worked in the past, most often sending Donny off in
tears. Today, however, Donny was through with tears, and, he was
through with being pushed around by his big sister.
'Barbara, I'm warning you. Mom's going to be real mad that you caused
a fight over TV and I'll bet she grounds you!"
'Nicely played!",
was believed, but
opposite stories?
response would be

thought Barbara, "That may have been true if Donny


what mother will side when two of her children tell
Barbara knew this, and knew her mother's lack of
required to be fair!"

Barbara smiled and calmly spouted out, "Go ahead, tell her!", and
Barbara went back to watching some inane cartoon.
Donny, flustered at the impasse, took Barbara's advice. What could it
hurt, afterall? He called his mother on her cellphone. As it turned
out, she was right in the middle of getting her hair done and she
couldn't really be bothered. She did say, however, that the two should
work it out, and that she'd support whatever agreement they came to,
after which, she promptly hung up!
"Alright!", said Donny aloud, "Let's go work it out!"
Donny went back and confronted his big sis.
"Mom says we are to work it out!"
Barbara smiled and replied, "I can't believe you really called her,
worm! Good, I'll watch cartoons, you go away! All worked out!"
"No, Barbara, that's not fair. I was already watching something and
you interrupted. I'll just watch the remainder of my show and then you
can watch whatever you want! Ok? Can I have the remote, please?"
"Sorry, worm, can't hear you!"
"Barbara! GIVE ME THE REMOTE!"
"Make me, WORM!"
Well, those words would come back to haunt Barbara for the rest of her
life.
Donny did as requested, and jumped on his older sister and went for
the remote. A physical struggle ensued which rivalled anything that
Donny was missing on his show. Barbara fought dirty, even trying to
kick her little brother between the legs, but somehow, to Barbara's
horror, Donny got the upper hand.
Before Barbara could even realise that the battle was lost, Donny had
Barbara pinned on the floor across his left knee. Donny used his right
to pin Barbara's legs in place and promptly set about spanking his
older sister as she squealed and wriggled for all she was worth!
Donny did himself proud, that morning. He spanked and spanked far
beyond his hand hurting and his arm aching for a rest. He spanked on
until his sister lay sobbing and almost bare-assed across his knee.

Throughout the spanking, the combination of Barbara's twisting and


squirming, aided by Donny's attempt to hold her in place, left
Barbara's shorts and panties both askew and almost halfway to
Barbara's knees.
It was a few moments before Barbara realised her punishment was over!
It was but a few moments more, before she realised that she was all
but bare.
"D-Donny, Let me up!"
"No, sis, we have to settle a few things!"
"DONNY, YOU LET ME UP THIS INSTANT!"
Donny responded by pulling his sisters shorts and panties all the way
to her knees and he set about spanking her again as she screamed
bloody murder.
The spanking seemed to go on for hours, but was actually just a minute
or so longer. Nevertheless, by the time it stopped, Barbara was
finally ready to listen.
Donny sensed the change, so he relaxed a bit, but kept his left hand
at the nape of his sister's neck, making certain she knew he was still
physically in charge.
"Ok, sis, you brought this on yourself. Mom said we're to work it out,
and this is how it's going to be! I'm going to let you go. You are
going to go directly upstairs to your room and into your corner. You
are going to stay there one hour, and then, you are going to call Paul
and let him know you are grounded this weekend and you'll have to
cancel your date. If he wants to know why, you will tell him, all of
it, understood?'
Barbara hesitated until she saw Donny swiftly lift his right hand.
"OK! OK! I'll do it!"
Donny let her up, but as Barabara went to pull up her shorts and
undies Donny said, "No, sis, take em-off, I want you bare-bottomed for
your corner time!"
Barbara looked at her little brother and realised he now held the
upper hand, literally. She bent over and removed her pants and
panties.
"Now, get that little fanny of yours upstairs, NOW! MARCH!", and a
quick smack to her already sore heiney propelled Barbara up the stairs
and into her room where she went to the corner that had always been
her punishment corner. She dropped her clothes beside her and assumed
the position, nose in, where she hadn't been for two years. Barbara
was mortified.
Donny, happy that he and his sister had worked it out, returned to the
family room and the remainder of his show.
Barbara stood there, hands locked atop her head and fumed. How did
this happen? He's just a little boy, her little brother, a worm! It

wasn't fair. She was an adult, by gosh!


Barbara thought back to the "little fanny" remark and smiled at her
brother's words. At least he thought it well little! Then she frowned.
"Mom's gonna kill him!" He had no right!"
So, a half-hour into her appointed time, she chose to show her little
brother just what she thought of his arrangements. Barbara snuck down
the stairs, and off she went to the mall. On the way there, Barabara
called her mom, getting her voicemail, Barbara stated her intentions
of shopping and then joining her boyfriend for dinner and a movie.
She'd be home somewhere around midnight.
Totally pleased with herself, Barbara headed into the mall.
Throughout the remainder of the night, Barbara's cell phone went off
on a regular basis, just about every fifteen minutes. Each time, it
was her little brother. Of course, Barbara would smile and not answer
it until finally worried the constant calls would interrupt the movie,
Barbara just turned her phone off.
It was half hour later, on Paul's phone, a text-message appeared from
Barbara's mom stating that they needed to come home, immediately!
Barbara knew their grandfather had been ailing as of late and feared
the worst, so the young couple left the movie midway and returned to
Barbara's home.
Imagine their suprise, upon returning, to find Barbara's grandfather
was not the emergency, but Barbara herself, for being truant during
her punishment.
With Paul standing by her side, Barbara's father grilled Barbara and
got all the facts out of her. No matter how she tried to spin her
story, it all backed up exactly what Donny had earlier stated.
Barbara's mom had told them to work it out, and as far as they were
concerned, it had been, Barbara had callously disobeyed, run off, and
was now in Donny's hands for punishment well earned!
Paul realized what was happening and tried to beg off and leave, but
Donny insisted he stay and witness his girlfriend's punishment,
afterall, it was her disobedience that had caused them to miss the
remainder of the movie!
To Barbara's and somewhat Paul's horror, Donny took his older sister
across his knee , bared her bottom and with his parents and Paul
watching, set about giving his older sister the worst hairbrush
spanking of her life.
Her own mother had never wielded the brush with such vigor and very
soon, Donny had Barbara kicking and screaching like a scalded cat
across his knee.
Barbara kicked and squirmed or all she was worth, but Donny was
relentless as was the hairbrush! By the time the young woman lay limp
and sobbing across her little brother's lap. Barbara had been reduced
to one very sorry little girl.
Donny made Barbara apologize to Paul for misbehaving and ruining the
date. Donny informed Paul that next week, Barbara was on restriction
and all phone-calls, and activity was cancelled until further notice.

Paul left in a huff, not really certain who he was mad at, but certain
he was being punished as well.
Barbara spent the next hour in the family room corner as her parents
explained that based on Barbara's childish decisions and actions that
day, a power-shift would occur until further notice.
"But, mom-dad, I'm already an adult! I-I can't answer to him!"
Her father laughed and responded, "Unless my eyes and your little red
caboose are deceiving me,I think you just did!"
Barbara smiled inwardly again! "He said little!" "Well, a girls got to
take what she can get!!"
Yes, things would be forever different!

Luke mowed the lawn, shirt off and sweating in the blazing summer sun. He made
a fuss about mowing to his parents, but didn't mind it at all. They had the kin
d of mower
that you drove, and he rather enjoyed driving it around the yard since he was st
ill a year away from driving a car. He would never let on that he didn't mind,
but he made
sure never to protest so much that his father volunteered to take over.
With a wink and a nudge, his father told him that he knew Luke enjoyed one part
of the job in particular. Over a year past, new neighbors moved into the house
next door.
They were a young military couple in their early thirties, but Luke's concern wa
s the wife, Amy Mathews. Her husband spent months at a time overseas and she wo
und up doing
most of the housework herself. That included doing her own backyard in her gard
ening clothes. The shorts and top weren't too tight, but she had generous hips,
a plump backside and full breasts. It'd take a set of drapes to hide her body,
and she didn't wear drapes. Her brief shorts were always a treat, as he'd often
seen
a glimpse of her panties while she bent and stretched to do her work.
At first, she kept to herself, but as time went on she allowed Luke to help her
with some of the heavy lifting. He'd grown a lot in the year since she'd moved
in, and
he noticed she looked at him differently. He wasn't confident enough to call it
attraction, but speaking to her was easy and fun, despite the fact that she was
his English teacher in the past term.
When she came outside, he gave her a wave and kept mowing. She smiled her very
bright and pretty smile and went about her chores. Luke wore big, dark sunglass
es so he
could stare at her rounded buttocks while she planted her vegetable garden. Wh
en she finished with the garden and started to pull the leaves out of her pool,
he
shut down the mower and hopped the fence to help her.
"Thanks, Luke," she brushed the sweat from her brow. "Since you're getting so t
all, this is much easier for you." She handed the net over to him, indicating th

e leaves
that had floated towards the center of the pool.
He nodded. "Growth spurt helped me get onto the varsity team this year."
"I saw the last game. You played well. Sorry you guys didn't make State," she
replied.
He grimaced. "There wasn't much we could do. East Samson has two scholarship p
layers in their senior class.
I'm just happy we made the playoffs and didn't get blown out."
"The last game of the season was a close one. You made your free throws," she r
ecalled.
After dumping the leaves into the trash, he set down the net and looked over to
her. "You don't' strike me as much of a basketball fan."
"I'm not," she started, speaking hesitantly. She folded her hands and looked do
wn before continuing. "I have something to tell you, and I feel terrible about
it."
He pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into his waistband. "What's wrong,
Mrs. Mathews?"
"You know how you were held out of the second to last game of the season?"
"It rings a bell," he quipped. She looked kind of sad, so he added. "They thou
ght I cheated. It was a mixup."
"That was actually my fault. There is a boy in my fifth period class whose name
is Branson Luke. When I submitted the issue to the principal's office, they th
ought
I meant Luke Branson because I didn't reverse the name on the sheet."
He looked angry for a moment, then busted out laughing. "That almost cost us th
e season. I'm the only shooter off of the bench."
"Don't laugh at me, Luke. I feel terrible."
"You feel terrible? I was so upset when that happened," he reminded her, but wi
th mirth in his voice. "That's amazing. We almost lost the season because you
wrote
my name wrong."
"His name was written wrong."
"You know what I mean. Wow, that's something else. They might still run you ou
t of town if they ever hear about this," he chuckled.
"Well I'm glad you're enjoying this. I've been consumed with guilt for a month
and it's just a big joke to you," Amy put her hands on her hips.
"Are you upset at me for not being upset enough? That's some nerve."
"Well never mind. I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us."
He drew himself up to full height and met her eyes. "You're making demands afte
r all this?"
Something about his posture backed her down. "Well, not demanding exactly, but
as you said, I'd never hear the end of it if word got out."
"Well you certainly don't deserve that," he agreed, "but you shouldn't get off S
cot-free. What did they do to you?"

"They didn't do anything. It was all just really funny, since I'm still the new
bie there. A couple of the teachers have been teasing me about it since then, b
ut
no big deal," she answered.
"Well that won't do," he replied, taking her firmly by the upper arm. He starte
d walking towards the back entrance to her house and her shorter legs had to hur
ry
to keep up.
"What are you doing?" she asked, alarmed.
"You made a mistake, and that's fine, but you live right next door to me and you
've been keeping it secret all this time," he told her as they made it to the ki
tchen.
"You weren't punished properly at the school, so I think a good spanking will se
ttle things."
She gasped as he sat and turned her across his knee. It took him only a moment
of swift action to get in the proper position before he started slapping her bot
tom.
She squeaked at the impact and her buttocks bounced under her thin shorts. They
had that special combination of looseness and briefness that caused her lower c
heeks to
peek out when he bent her over. To both of their surprise, she offered no resis
tance.
Amy accepted the experience, and her chastisement. The slaps stung her with suc
h an expertise that she was certain this wasn't the first spanking the teen had
ever given.
Her thin shorts didn't pad the blows much, and he hit bare skin on her lower che
eks and upper thighs anyway. Her face was flushed red and her backside buzzed a
ll over when
he stood her back up on to her feet.
At first she thought it was over, but the break was only so he could take her sh
orts down. He didn't even have to grab her arm the second time she went over hi
s lap,
as she went across on her own. He spanked all over the seat of her panties for
a few minutes before pulling them down and continuing the punishment on her bare
bottom.
She hadn't been treated that way since her father spanked her as a child, and sh
e decided she probably deserved a few spankings since that time.
Amy started sniffling and a few tears slipped out, but Luke didn't stop right aw
ay. Her entire bottom and upper legs were a very dark pink when he turned her b
ack over to
sit on his lap. They held each other for a time that way while she recovered, r
esting her head on his shoulder. They were both relaxed when she stood up and t
urned to repair her clothing.
"Well, I hope that was punishment enough," she rubbed her backside. "That reall
y hurt!"
"As long as you learned your lesson," he conceded, filled to the brim with hormo
nes, adrenaline and authority.
"I did."

"And what lesson was that?" he asked.


She felt a quick pang of fear and excitement, not knowing if her answer would su
ffice. "If I keep something from you, I'll get spanked."
Her answer couldn't have been more perfect.
So far, the summer of his fifteenth year had proved to be the best of his life b
y a landslide. When he first decided to spank his next door neighbor and histor
y teacher,
it had been on pure impulse. In retrospect, he realized he could have gotten in
to a lot of trouble just for grabbing her arm that way, but at the time he was t
oo drunk
on power to give time to such worries. After all, just three weeks before that,
he began spanking his own mother.
Jane Branson didn't exhibit much of a submissive streak. She took care of most
things in the household and made sure to have dinner ready on time every night,
but she
embraced such duties as her domain. She wanted to stay home to raise her two ch
ildren, Luke and Sabrina, and she did so without giving up her own individuality
.
Sabrina had already gone away to band camp, so Luke and his mother had the house
to themselves until Luke's father got home from work. They interacted more tha
n the
average mother and son, as they liked the same movies and even some of the same
games. Jane got into computer gaming as a distraction to fill the hours when mo
therly duties
offered nothing besides boredom.
She often made deals with Luke on household chores and the reward system worked
well for both of them. In a moment of gross underestimation, she went too far w
ith her deal.
After a joint victory in one of their online games, Luke rushed into her room an
d noticed that her graphics were far superior to his.
"Whoa, look at you," he pointed at her computer screen after they finished jumpi
ng for joy.
"Yeah, your Dad treated me to a new video card," Jane informed him.
"Can I get treated?" Luke asked in undisguised envy.
"I don't think you'd be willing to do what I did that made your father get me th
at card."
"That's gross, and unacceptable conversation, Jane." In a running joke between t
hem, he called her by her first name whenever she said or did something outrageo
us.
"You're the one who asked."
"I didn't ask that, and I didn't get an answer to the real question. What do I
have to do to get that card?"
"That card? It's really expensive. I called in all of my favors to get it. Th

ere isn't a chore in the house that's worth that card," she told him.
"What about outside of the house?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I could clean out the shed."
She stopped and looked at him. "Bullshit."
"Language, Jane."
"Still bullshit. I've been offering all kinds of bribes to you and your father
to clean out the Hellraiser shed," she reminded him. It was true. Years back S
teve Branson
had gotten obsessed with the idea of building his own canoe. He gave it up and
the wood in the shed became rotted and smelly after a heavy rainfall.
Casual neglect turned into outright avoidance and eventual the shed became a hor
ror show of bugs, old wood and stink. No one would touch it.
"I'll do it. The shed for the video card."
"Ha! Big talk. You do that shed and the card is yours," Jane agreed.
The very next morning just before Steve left for work, he indicated that he hear
d Luke out by the shed. Jane figured Luke was putting on a show and went out to
tell him
not to bother. She arrived to see the shed had already been completely finished
. Some old wood still stood in smelly stacks outside and there were garbage bac
ks that
needed to be taken out, but the inside of the shed looked brand new.
"You have got to be shitting me," she said under her breath.
"Language, Jane."
"I offered you a car to do this, and I got nothing."
"I'm not old enough to drive. I can plug in that video card right now," Luke re
asoned.
"This is an amazing job. You stayed up all night?"
"I went to sleep about an hour after we talked and woke up at two in the morning
. I didn't think I'd get done this early, but after an hour or so you just slip
into the zone." They both stared at their new shed in quiet appreciation for a
moment. "So, I'd prefer to go to a store than to order it online. With a card
that expensive, it's smart to have a warranty."
"I'm really sorry, honey, but I cannot get you that card."
"What? We had a deal!"
She ran her hands through her hair and tied it back. She still had her pajamas
on after cooking breakfast. "I know it's disappointing, but we have to get you
something else

I wasn't kidding when I said the card isn't in our budget."


"You just don't want to tell dad that you promised it to me," Luke accused.
"Oh that is definitely a big part of it. If I told him about this bribe you wou
ldn't get the card and I'd be in trouble on top of that." Jane knew Luke wouldn
't tell on her.
Their deals were always between the two of them. Steve didn't much like the ide
a of paying the children for holding up their end of the household duties, but J
ane was the
one stuck home with her two beloved, lazy children. She needed results more tha
n her husband's principles.
"We are at an impasse. You promised the card if I cleaned the hell shed. Here
is the shed without the hell. Now we just need the card."
"Ain't gonna happen. You can rephrase it all you want, but that doesn't bring t
he price down."
"You can always give me your card and install your old one," he suggested.
She openly laughed. "Never. I love that card more than all three of you." She
could see that he didn't share her mirth at all. "I'm really sorry, Luke. I am
.
I honestly didn't think you'd take me seriously."
"Some part of you knew that I might. You can dress it up all you want, but you
lied to me."
"I did. Like I said, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do. You did a fanta
stic job and I feel terrible about the whole thing."
"When Sabrina lied about going out on that date with Kirk, she got punished. Wh
y should you get away with it?"
"I shouldn't," Jane admitted. "It was a bad lie. You're right, a small part of
me suspected you might try. I thought you'd give up because this place was suc
h a horror show,
but I wasn't totally joking." Luke folded his arms and looked at her. "I don't
know why you're looking at me like that. It's not like I can be grounded."
"That's not all Sabrina got."
"You heard about that? I tried to keep it private to spare her any embarrassmen
t." Luke continued to stare at her.
"Oh you can't be suggesting what I think you're suggesting." He took a step towa
rds her, full of menace.
Luke had no intention of actually attempting to spank his own mother. True, she
was much smaller than he, but his father was much bigger, and that would be a f
actor in the end.
Luke had no intention until Jane's mouth got ahead of her. "Very funny. I'm a
grown woman, Luke, a spanking from a boy is not a real punishment."

"You don't say." Luke picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
k her into the woodshed and slid out one of the newly polished stools.

He too

"Luke! Put me down and be serious."


"Gladly." He took her from his shoulder, sat and placed her into the nursery po
sition. Damn the consequences, that "boy" comment would cost her.
"Okay, just wait one second!" she pleaded. She didn't make a move to get up, so
he paused. Jane looked over her shoulder at her son, who looked much bigger fr
om her position.
She saw his hand raised in the air over her bottom and swallowed. "You can have
anything that I can get out of your father besides that card, and you want to w
aste all of
your hard work on this?"
"First of all, yes," he replied, delivering the first slap to her plump cheeks.
"Second of all, I'm not wasting anything. The shed is clean and I'm really
happy about that.
This is not my reward, this is your punishment for lying. You said it won't be
a big deal, so look at it as getting off easy."
Jane gasped as her pajama bottoms were pulled down. She turned forward again, n
ot wanting to actually watch the slaps land. She still didn't think it
would hurt much,
but felt that the embarrassment was plenty punishment enough. The next swat cam
e down followed by another and another.
Before the first dozen blows, Jane knew that she miscalculated. The spanking wa
s real, it hurt and it would work at least as well as it did when she got
it from her mother as
a girl. Swat after swat fell in no particular pattern. Luke spanked his mother
with all of the impatience and enthusiasm of youth, peppering her bottom
all over.
She gasped and yelped and after several dozen her eyes filled with salty moistur
e.
Though she bounced on his lap for a bit, she never tried to rise and throughout
all her whining she didn't once ask him to stop. He grabbed her waist to pull h
er closer to
him
as she started to slip out of position and she cooperated, lifting her bottom to
accept the punishing palm of his hand. She lay limp over his lap for the last
few minutes,
fully submitting to the discipline. His hand stung when he stopped, but her bac
kside burned hotter than it had in decades.
Luke tapped her on the back to let her know that the spanking was over. She got
up, face screwed in pain and clutching her two reddened globes.
"Yikes. I stand corrected, pun intended." She wiped her eyes and sniffled. "Yo

u can spank pretty hard. That was a real punishment. All forgiven now?"
Mother and son embraced each other before going in to eat their reheated breakfa
st. Jane ate standing and they had a good laugh about that. She sat on a pillo
w, sans pants,
when they played their online game later. She even told one of her online frien
ds about the day's events. Told a lie, she typed into the chat. Got spanked fo
r it.
Luke never asked for anything in return for cleaning the shed. When Steve asked
about it, Luke said to consider it a case for the car he would want when he rea
ched
driving age. Steve looked suspicious, but had long since learned not to questio
n rare gifts. Since Luke never received payment for doing the shed,
Jane couldn't shake the feeling that she still owed him.
The next time they played the game, she died and lost an item. She let loose a
string of expletives that would make a football coach blush.
That was another one of their little secrets. Steve and Jane had agreed long ag
o not to curse in front of the children. Though that agreement wasn't enforced
after they
both became teens, cursing was still greatly frowned upon. While they played th
e game, it went unsaid that any foul language went with the territory.
That didn't stop Luke from teasing her about it every time.
After she croaked, Luke came into the room and chided, "Language, Jane."
"That was such bullshit," she replied. "Stupid Alex was supposed to have that t
hing aggro'd."
"He's the worst when Shelly isn't around to tank with him. And do I have to get
out the dollar jar for that language, Jane?" Luke joked.
"Too rich for my blood. Besides, I thought we already settled on the whole spank
ing thing," Jane joked right back.
"That's a very good point," Luke replied, lifting her out of the computer chair.
Jane unbuttoned her jeans and bent over the edge of the bed with her shiny blue
panties stretching to second-skin tightness.
Her upper half laid flat on the mattress while her legs dangled off to the side.
"Do your worst," she taunted. A single powerful slap struck her buttocks that
was as loud
as it was painful. "That's just an expression!" Her voice pitched up at the en
d of the sentence as the spanking began. The punishment didn't last half as lon
g as her first
session in the woodshed, but she could feel burn of dozen's of her son's handpri
nts on her backside when she pulled her pants back up.
The spankings she received for cursing were in good humor, even though they stil
l made her shift in her seat each time. Jane bought some thick, dark pajama bot

toms for
whenever
Luke gave her a real punishment, which happened about once per week. Sometimes
she and Luke would just sit and talk about how she was spanked as a girl, and
she admitted that
she got it on the bare bottom with her mother's hairbrush whenever she misbehave
d seriously.
On a shopping trip together soon after, Luke got Jane's attention when they pass
ed the aisle with the hair care products.
"Which kind was it?" he asked, pointing to the hairbrushes. Jane looked them ov
er for a moment and pointed to one that was very similar to her mother's.
Luke picked it up and tossed it into the cart and Jane didn't say anything, but
she did give him an affectionate squeeze on the arm.
It didn't take long for the hairbrush to come into play, and it did quite the jo
b on her. She cried and kicked and cried some more as her son
toasted her naked backside.
She stood facing the corner, cooling off and doing her penance while he sat at t
he computer chair, waiting for her fifteen minutes to be up so they could
get back to playing.
"Why?" was all Luke asked. He didn't have to say anymore; they both knew what h
e meant.
"We're as dependent and strong as we want to be," she spoke in a steady voice, t
hough it sounded a bit muffled as she spoke into the corner.
"but sometimes a girl just needs to be put in her place." He nodded, and her s
imple response turned out to be a moment of profound education for him.
Her words and her exact tone rang in his mind that first day that he grabbed h
is teacher by the arm. Lucky for him, it turned out to be true with
Amy Mathews.
At the time, Luke didn't know that the best summer of his life had much more in
store for him.
END
This is a spanking fantasy which is copyrighted by me, Zadigski.
Please don't reprint this without the above line.
This is a spanking fantasy involving parents and teenage children. If that bothe
rs you or if you are under the age of 18, please stop reading now.
I have a fictitious spanking advice columnist who I call Aunt Gertrude. Aunt Ger
trude only gives advice for domestic discipline.
Halloween Capers
Dear Aunt Gertrude,
I really need some good advice because I am in a situation that is getting out o
f control. I confess that this situation is mostly my fault. I should have
put a lid on this sooner. It all started two years ago at Halloween. My famil
y was all going to a family Halloween party. I ordered some Raggedy Ann and
Raggedy Andy costumes for me and my husband to wear on the internet. Unfortuna

tely when the costumes arrived, they were not very good.
It was my daughter's suggestion (she was fifteen at the time) that my husband an
d I would look like little kids in what we had for costumes. And that she
and her eighteen year old brother would go to the costume party as our parents.
This was really successful, everyone at the party thought we were great.
But my husband and I started acting like little brats.
We refused to do what our
parents told us to do, etc. etc.
I think you can guess what our parents solution. They took us over their knees an
d gave us a hand spanking. I guess we should have left it alone, but
my husband and I started saying, Nyyah! Nyyah! It didn't hurt!
With help from some of the other people at the party, my husband and I were put
back over my son and daughter's knees. A hairbrush was fetched for my
daughter, and a paddleball paddle was fetched for my son. This was an Executive
Paddleball set that I gave my brother-in-law several years ago.
The ball was now long lost, but he kept the paddle. It was made of solid oak a
nd really stung. I actually gave it to my bother-in-law as a Christmas
present several years before, in hopes that he would use it on his bratty kids
. He told everyone the story of the paddle, he thought it was very funny
that the paddle I gave him was now getting used on me.
There were suggestions that the spankings be on the bare skin, but thankfully th
ey were voted down. My little skirt was up for the spanking. But I had on
bloomers, under that white tights and under that my regular panties. Still my h
usband and I were glad that my oldest son could drive home, we were having
trouble sitting.
I am certain that this caused the resurrection of birthday spankings. When the
kids were little we used to give them birthday spankings, we had stopped
doing that once my oldest son was ten. I think the intended target of the birt
hday spanking was my youngest who was about to celebrate his thirteenth
birthday. They made a rule that if you were served breakfast in bed, before yo
u got dressed, that you would get a birthday spanking. My youngest son
outsmarted his siblings, got up early, got dressed, made everyone breakfast, an
d served everyone breakfast in bed. So he got out of the birthday spanking.
When my daughter's birthday came, I could hear the boys getting breakfast for he
r. I woke my daughter up and told her to hurry and get dressed.
According to the story my daughter told me, she got up, took off her pj's, then
laid back down and fell a sleep. The boys got to give my daughter
her birthday spanking while she was in her birthday suit.
When it came time for my birthday, I made sure that I had two alarm clocks set
so that I would not get caught. My husband had given me a shortie,
see through nightie that I wore the night before intending to get into more mode
st clothes in the morning. I insist that someone turned off my alarm
clocks. Anyhow I got caught and the kids had a good time spanking my bare botto
m.
My husband and my oldest son made no attempt to avoid getting their birthday spa
nkings. Their pajamas were pulled down and they got their bare bottoms
spanked. I confess that I participated in the spanking even though my husband
had not spanked me.
Halloween had come again. My husband and I had intended to go as green aliens f
rom a flying saucer. I got a panicked call from my sister.
She had promised her kids that they would have a kids spank their naughty parents

scene for the Halloween. And the spankings were going to be dress up,
panties down!
My sister told me that she and her husband would get to wear tho
ngs to at least protect that much of their modesty. My sister begged me
to join her. She would be too embarrassed being the only female there showing
her derriere.
At first I refused giving an excuse that my husband would not allow that, espec
ially since it meant the he would also get his bare buttocks spanked as well.
My brother-in-law talked to my husband, who said that he would do it if they c
ould convince me to do it. In a moment of weakness, I agreed.
Looking back, I really should have put my foot down. My sister, who is two year
s older than I am, had reminded me of all the times she had gotten me out
of jams and I owed her. And she was right, I did.
My sister and I got flapper costumes , dresses from the style of the 1920's. We ha
d on short dresses, but long legged panties.
My husband and brother-in-law had Zoot Suits . Our kids were dressed up as little
kids. The boys wore short pants and Mickey Mouse tee-shirts.
The girls had dresses so short that their panties showed is they bent over at a
ll. The dresses and panties had designs from My Little Pony on them.
Our kids followed us around, begging us to feed them, take of them, provide them
with good examples on how to grow up. We just keep dancing, drinking,
smoking (it was candy cigarettes, which I hadn't known that they still made) an
d doing everything except taking care of our kids. Finally a
loud whistle blew, and that was the signal for the kids to take control of their
parents.
My oldest son wasn't at the party, so my youngest son got to take his place. We
were turned up, the spankings started on the outer clothing.
Then the guys pants were pulled down and our skirts were raised. The spankings
continued on our undies. I was hoping that the kids would not go through
with pulling our undies down. But they did.
Again my brother-in-law's paddle got used on my bare behind. When our kids were
done with us, they made us stand up and bend over to touch our toes.
Everyone got a good view of our bare bottoms. Then we had to promise to always
take good care of our kids and not resist being spanked if we didn't.
There were about twenty other people at this party, all family members, cousins,
aunts, uncles even grandparents. My sister and I got a lot of compliments
on how great our bare derrieres looked. And even our husbands got compliments.
Everyone thought this was a great Halloween party. I was sure that my
mother would have been upset about this behavior, but she thought it was wonderf
ul. She told us that she had always felt that my sister and I needed more
spankings than we got.
After this, the birthday spankings rules in our house were changed. You could n
ot get out of bed until you had gotten your birthday spanking and breakfast
in bed. And if you were not in your birthday suit, the people coming to spank y
ou could put you in your birthday suit. And any resistance would get you
more spankings. It seemed harmless enough after all, we were all family and n
othing else went on.
There was one incident that I think I should have used more sense. My youngest
son is now fourteen. We were sort of teasing each other, and I told him
that he wasn't too big to be spanked. And he told me, I would like to see you t
ry it. If you did, and if I don't deserve a spanking, you are the one
who will be spanked.

So I did grab
g me over his
good spanking
because they

him and try to put him over my knee. He had no trouble in puttin
knee and taking down my shorts and panties, then giving me a
right in our back yard. I hope that your neighbors were not home
could have gotten a good view of my bare behind.

My son bragged about the spanking to his father, sister and older brother. They
all thought it was funny, and after teasing me a bit, told me that they
were so pleased to have a mother who was such a good sport.
It was only a few days later when I heard my daughter sobbing in her room. When
I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong, she would only ask me to
leave her alone. After two days of this behavior she told me that I should ask
her big brother what was wrong. I went to him and demanded an explanation.
He confessed that he had told two of his friends that his sister was a virgin.
Since when has being a virgin been so shameful? I would have gone up and smacke
d my daughter's behind for being so silly, but my son talked me out of it.
He said that one of her worries was that guys would want to date just so that
they could pop her cherry and not because they really liked her.
He asked me to give him the chance to fix things up, which I reluctantly agreed
to, provided that she was back to normal within a few days.
The next day was a Saturday. I had told the kids I was going shopping with a fr
iend, but she canceled, so I was around when they didn't expect me to be.
I was working in the garden when three of my daughter's girl friends came by.
They, my daughter, and my two sons went into the family room which is
in the back of our house off the garden and patio. They then closed all the drap
es so no one could see what was going on inside.
I walked close by and heard what sounded a court room. I couldn't quite make ou
t what my daughter was accusing her brother of, but I could hear my oldest
son's deep voice as he said, Guilty.
I went back to working in the garden, but
when I walked near the family room when I went to get something from
the garage. I heard what sounded like, and as I later found out for certain, w
as the sound of a paddle hitting bare flesh. I also heard my son yelling
yow after every swat. I could only hope that my son had put on a thong if he was
getting spanked in front of those girls.
The next time I walked near the window of the family room I didn't hear spanks,
but I hear my son making grunting sounds as if he were in pain. I opened
the door and walked in to see what was going on. There was my son, completely
naked, bent over a stool. I could see that he had a severe spanking
from the red marks on his rear. But even worse was that my daughter was standin
g behind him wearing nothing but her panties, bra and what people call a
'strap-on'. That is one of those harnesses that have a dildo attached to it.
And I am sure that I don't need to tell you where the dildo was.
I was shocked and I would have broken the thing up, but some strange woman force
d me out of the house, saying You don't want to be here right now.
Please let your daughter and your son settle this between the two of them.
I went upstairs to the living room and called my husband. Fortunately he had ju
st finished his golf game. I told him that he had come home immediately,
that it was a real crises which I couldn't talk to him about over the telephone
. I was waiting for him in the living room. When my husband came in,
my son (who now had his clothes on), and this other woman came into the room.
Before I could say anything, my son asked his father if they could have a
private conversation and they went off.

I was left alone with this strange woman. She began telling me all about hersel
f, and showing me her portfolio as well as her birth certificate and
passport. She claimed that she was was an artist, a singer, a dancer and an act
ress as well as a photographer. She admitted that the way she was making
money these days was a bit ghoulish. She photographed dead people and made por
traits that showed those people alive, well, and happy. She said it was
a good business because the people who wanted these portraits usually had lots o
f money and could afford the high prices she charged. I was wondering why
this strange person wanted to tell me all this.
Then my husband and my son returned. My husband seemed to think it was funny th
at my daughter had taken my son's virginity just because he had told his
friends that she was a virgin. Before I could get a word in, my son introduced
this woman as his girl friend and announced that come September they
would be moving in together. It would be an apartment near to the university
my son was attending.
My husband then asked old was she. That was bothering me also. She showed us he
r birth certificate that showed she was twenty-two. She used makeup to
make herself look older because no one would pay the prices she charged to a kid
. She showed us pictures without makeup and she did look much younger.
Then my daughter came into the room. She was crying and saying that she was tru
ly sorry for having treated her brother so badly. But he hugged her,
kissed her and said that he deserved very bit of it and even more. They went ba
ck and forth like that for a bit, then they included my son's girlfriend
in it. There was so much hugging and kissing going on that I was afraid that t
hey would start having sex right in front of my husband and I. I would
later find out that my son's girlfriend was the older sister of one of my daught
er's friends, and my daughter had introduced them several years ago.
I never did get to talk to my daughter about what she did to her brother. This
is mostly because I have been too shy to mention it. But recently I heard
my daughter discussing the Halloween party for this. The first thing that I pic
ked up on was that what she called the youngsters would be getting all of
the food, party favors, and the decorations. Then I heard that the youngsters
uld be getting the costumes for the oldsters . That really got my
attention.

wo

Then my daughter said that only Grammy and Grampy would get to wear thongs. And that
care would have to be taken to make sure that Grammy and Grampy
only got whacked on the fleshly part of the behind.
Grammy and Grampy are the kid'
s names for my mother and father. This made it very clear to me
that I would be showing a lot more than I have shown in the past at the Hallowee
n, especially that I would be showing the parts normally covered by a thong.
And that I, as well as any other oldsters are in for a serious spanking as well
as other embarrassments as part of the Halloween games.
I tried to talk to my daughter about this, and in particular, just who are the ol
dsters . She told me that the oldsters are anyone twenty years old or
older. Then she said, Oh, Mom, please don't go chicken on us now. Yes, you wil
l wind up showing your 'girl parts', but you have a great figure, and
you have been such a good sport in the past that everyone is counting on you be
ing there.
When I tried to object, she told me that she had thought I would be someone she
could count on. She told that everyone else is going along with it.
She said that got my husband and my brother-in-law to agree to the removal of
all hair below the neck. She told me that they have the greatest costume
for me, but they don't want to show the costumes until just before the party bec

ause they want it to a surprise.


Her final argument was, Mom, if you don't do to the party, other people are also
going to chicken out and our plans will be wrecked. I am sorry I didn't
talk to you earlier, but please say you are with us!
I told her that I would think about it. But I really think things are out of con
trol. Please give me some good advice.
Respectfully, Bewildered.
Aunt Gertrude's Response:
Dear Bewildered,
I think that you are traumatized by what your daughter did to your son. That pun
ishment is called pegging ; and while I disagree with those who feel that
it is a good punishment for teenage boys, I do feel that it can be a good puni
shment for young men, and perhaps, even for young women.
What I see is that your daughter felt betrayed by someone she absolutely trusted
. Your son told her that he would do anything to regain her trust and prove
that he respected her. It seems that it worked. Your son proved his love for h
is sister, and is back on good terms with her.
What you are afraid of is that something like that could happen to you. What yo
u need to do is have a talk with your daughter about what the limits are on
behavior at the party. Also talk with other people and make certain that everyo
ne understands and will obey the limits.
I want you to understand that you have every right to refuse to go along with th
eir plans. But I think you will be sorry if you don't.
And if it is any consolation, I am sure that I will also be stripped naked and
given a good spanking at some point in our Halloween celebration.
That has been the case for the last fifteen years and I don't see any reason why
this Halloween will be any different.
Wishing you a Happy Halloween!
Aunt Gertrude
Spankable Temp -- mm/F
AJWilsire

Marnie hadn't particularly liked their marriage counselor. He wasn't very good,
or good looking, but he sure seemed to enjoy a good look at her. Especially when
she was leaving. He, like many other men, whether she would admit it or not, en
joyed the sight of Marnie's lovely bottom.
This particularly bothered her when the subject of marital intimacy was broached
in their therapy. Like a lot of couples in their late 30s, sex had grown routin
e. Why, this bottom-noticing therapist wondered, didn't they spice things up. Sa
y, try spanking.

The way he looked when he'd said it left no doubt in her mind that he'd love
have her over his knee. That was perverse. And that was kind of exciting. So
thought about it. What if she made a private appointment and confessed that
be she could do with a good spanking? She'd be heading home red and sore, no
bt. That thought was good for one guilty private pleasure.

to
she
may
dou

Her husband agreed with her about the therapist, though on little else. They'd d
rop him. She knew what that meant. They wouldn't find another one. They'd stop t
rying. Not a bad thing, just the flow of things. Their love was used up.
But why not go out in style? How about spicing things up sexually? What about th
at spanking thing? It was very casual. Was it going to be Saturday Night Live or
spanking? They could stream SNL later, so let's try that spanking thing.
For him, it was a kind of farce. Did he want to spank her? Absolutely. He'd love
to pay her back for the years of slow-motion misery, but he never would. She wa
s really ok. And deliberately harming someone, that wasn't right.
For her, it was a moment. She had never been over a man's knee. Her bottom was t
he highest point of her body. It was stuck up. It felt totally wrong. And totall
y wicked. There were men who loved to have women like this. They would control a
nd spank. And spank. What would that be like? That kind of submission?
A few moderate smacks and he was done, and she was gushing. Their best sex in ye
ars.
She wondered about a new beginning, he saw a nice, little memory. With their son
having just started college, they separated two weeks later.
There were no sharp elbows and plenty of resources to share, so things went well
, until she was finally alone, and then she was a bit lost. She wanted to find s
omething. Strangely, she thought about the therapist and his lap, and the spanki
ng he might give her. She didn't like him, maybe that was a good thing.
There were lots of thoughts about spanking now and it kind of became a thing. Sh
e wanted to be spanked. She wanted a spanking.
There was the internet and Craigslist, but they were unkempt, as her mother migh
t say, or deranged, as she thought. So much spanking on the internet was ugly an
d crude, and Craigslist drew lonely losers. She needed something new, something
innovative. She also hadn't been employed in years and could use to get out of t
he house, if not earn a little income. Why not combine the two?
She'd advertise herself on Craigslist as a spankable temp. She'd only meet with
men who she could verify had real businesses and real jobs to offer. Although it
's ok if the jobs were part time and mostly fake. She didn't really want to work
, she wanted the safety of a work environment to receive her first spanking.

She wrote her ad and posted it, Spankable Temp -- Marin, figuring it might take
a couple of months to find the right situation, then went for morning coffee. Sh
e checked her email before lunch and had 47 replies, one from Norway. Maybe a tr
ip would be nice. After sorting through the drivel, she was surprised to find th
at were two in nearby downtown San Rafael, and they were on the same block!
One was from a stern sounding man who thought that spanking was an excellent way
to train a new employee. He owned an auto repair shop and promised that he woul
d be fair, but that if she broke any rules they agreed upon, she would be thorou
ghly spanked. That sounded like what she was looking for. But then she downloade
d his photo and he was rather fierce looking. Still, a maybe.
The other was from an assistant manager who ran a linen store. She liked linens.
He wasn't pushy, sounded kind of sweet. He liked his work and his store, and if
she likes linens and likes being spanked, he'd love to have her work there.
She replied to them both and they were both thrilled to hear from her. They agre
ed to her proposal that she'd drop by unannounced to see their business and if t
hings seemed ok, she'd set-up a private interview, which would include a spankin
g. And if that went well, they could discuss hours and wages, etc. She also adde
d in her email to the linens guy that she'd like a photo, but when he replied th
ere wasn't one, and she didn't catch it.
She felt comfortable and very much in control with this spanking stuff, that is
until she visited the repair shop, which was very male and loud, though the girl
behind the counter was pretty and looked just out of high school. Did she get s
panked? Doubtful. Did the owner really want to spank her? I just bet. Might be p
rovocative to get spankings for me and spankings he'd like to give to her. While
she was asking about the cost of an oil change, the owner ducked out of his off
ice to talk to someone. He had a permanent scowl and looked like someone who onc
e he spanked you, would spank you every chance he got. Scary. And exciting.
The linens store was wonderful. Why had she never been here before? It smelled s
weet and fresh, the quality of the goods were superb, and the man who greeted he
r was a sweetheart. He looked to be in his late 50s, was a bit overweight, had a
large smile and she just liked him. A part of her wanted to say, put an away-fo
r-now sign on the door, take me into the back room and spank me. But instead she
stuck to her plan, browsed, hardly said anything then left. She emailed him a f
avorable reply and asked for a meeting, preferably the next day. But the reply d
idn't come for two days, and then she was instructed to wait until next week, th
e following Thursday.
The day finally arrives and suddenly she was nervous. The whole day she was fret
ful and distracted, and the thought surfaced that she probably needed a good spa
nking to sort her out. And she did. And she was going to get one. And the circle
compounded. She was late leaving the house, and the traffic was bad because the
re was an accident, and instead of arriving 5 minutes before closing time, she a
rrived 20 minutes after. She knocked and knocked and finally someone arrived and
she was just crushed because she realized she was too late and the owner had le
ft.
But instead of being nicely told through a crack in the door that the store was
closed, as she expected, the door opened widely and she was sternly ordered insi

de by this,
this boy. The door was closed behind her and she could not help but realize tha
t her bottom had his complete attention.
There was direct eye contact and she was being scolded, being late for a meeting
like this, disrespectful, needing to be taught a lesson, knowing just how to te
ach such a
lesson, she was being taken through the store into the back room, and there the
whirl stopped. He released her and sat in a chair, saying Are you ready to learn
your
lesson or is this a charade?
She paused, then made the slightest move toward him, and he snatched her arm, to
ok her over his knee and her first real spanking began. After only the second lo
ud smack her
hands reached back and he grabbed and corralled them both against the small of h
er back, and the spanking continued anew, fiercely, with a renewed scolding, I ex
pect you to
be on time and when you are late, this is what you can expect, young lady, a we
ll-deserved spanking.
The words punctured her and when she was ready to struggle and buck and scream a
nd try to wriggle herself free, she instead settled down and gave in. She really
was late.
This was the spanking she had wanted.
He spanked and spanked and spanked her, and she decided she did not like spankin
g, but she would live up to her commitment and just accept this spanking, then g
et out of there
and never come back.
Finally, the spanking ended and she felt him caressing her bottom. She was sweat
y and weak and totally under his control. She was touched by his gentleness. He
said softly,
There. That's over. I hope that was good for you, and he meant it.
Still breathing heavily, she was up and rubbing her bottom, and she finally got
a good look at him. He was so young. Was he even 16? Yes, just barely. He showed
her the
restroom, giving her bottom a nice smack, not too hard, just a sign of ownership
. In the mirror, she looked a fright, but what a rush. She'd been spanked and sh
e hated it,
but she was absolutely lit from within.
The next Tuesday an email arrived from him, very brief, saying he thought their
meeting went well and wanted to resume their discussion about the job. He expect
ed her on
Thursday, five minutes before closing. She trashed it. She wasn't going to downt
own San Rafael ever again.
She couldn't sleep Wednesday night. Thursday morning she was groggy and out of s
orts. She drank wine at lunch, then a second glass. She had a nap. It was 5 pm.

She went for


a swim, showered and dressed. Ten minutes before closing, she entered the store.
Neither acknowledged the other. When closing time arrived, he locked the door, t
urned off the open sign, sat back behind the counter and said, So tell me why you
are here.

She couldn't. How could she say anything? He was younger than her own son and ye
t he had spanked her. How could she explain her feelings to him? It's fine if you
'd like to
remain silent. We can just do what we did last week. Is that what you want? Invo
luntarily, some little girl pattern found it's way to the surface and she rocked
on one heel,
in the process turning her bottom to him in a rather provocative fashion. He ha
d his yes.
He turned off the front lights and she walked ahead of him, slowly like a condem
ned prisoner, into the back room. Such an incredibly lovely bottom she had, and
how really,
profoundly honored he was to spank it. Sitting in the chair, this time she put h
erself across his knee, languorously, seeming to keep her bottom rounded and pus
hed up in
offering. He responded by feeling her bottom and adjusting their position to mak
e it high and just a bit more pushed up. This is what you need, he whispered.
He smacked his hand down firmly, and again and again, saying, Last week you learn
ed a good lesson and this week you're going to get an even better one. Marnie wan
ted to
leap up and run, but just then her took her right hand and held her tightly and
she wanted more to settled down and take a long hard spanking from him.
But it was so shameful. He was just a boy, and he was spanking her and she was s
ubmitting. He did not spank like a boy. He spanked firmly and with resolve, she
felt that his
will was overcoming her own, and she wanted to give in to him. But it hurt and
she wanted it to stop!
As much as Marnie was transfixed by the spanking, he might have been more so. Sh
e didn't recognize him, but he recognized her. He was a couple years younger tha
n her son and
they had been in the same middle school, before his family moved to San Rafael.
He'd seen her at fundraisers and other parent events, and Marnie made an impress
ion on him.
Such an exquisite bottom. Now across his knee. And he was spanking it.
That first spanking was superb, but as much as it taught her a lesson, it belabo
red his hand. When he stopped that spanking, it was as much for his own pain as
for the pain
in her bottom. But that was a good thing. She was able to take a thorough spank
ing, more than he could give her last time. This time he was prepared.

He paused and praised her, You're wonderful to spank. I know you are learning a g
ood lesson, rubbing her bottom, which caused her to exalt, she wanted to be wonde
rful to
spank and she wanted to learn a good lesson from him. We have some more to go. Ope
ning a desk drawer, he found the hairbrush he was looking for, raised it and bro
ught down
a moderate swipe. Marnie froze. This stung.
The next stung more. The one after that, still more. Soon, she was struggling to
hang onto his knee at the fierce sting her bottom was learning from the hairbru
sh. You need
this, he said, but she didn't, she really did not need this, it hurt too much. Sh
e was wearing thin cotton slacks and a thong, really no protection. But the hair
brush had a
reality all it's own. She was pushed to a peak. Might she rebel. Might she subm
it. He stopped at 25.
His name was Brian and he was just 16, the assistant manager for the store owned
by his uncle, the nice man she thought she'd like to have spank her. Brian was
a sharp
student, had worked at the store for years, not that interested in retail but de
finitely interested in business. Now he wanted to learn how to do the books. So
if he did the
books on Thursday night, his uncle could check them on Saturday, when there was
extra help working. That would work great. Brian just needed help on Thursday n
ights. Marnie
was the help. The three of them had a remarkably gracious lunch and interview, a
nd Marnie would work on Thursdays from 6 to 8, hardly much of a commitment. Bria
n walked her
to her car and said since it was a retail establishment he preferred that she w
ould dress appropriately, wholesomely, in a dress or skirt.
He was floored when she arrived the next Thursday. Nothing provocative, she was
just a lovely Marin mom, in a sublime summer dress, arriving for work and a good
, hard
spanking. The dress she wore was crepe-like, multi-colored and a bit snug fittin
g. Posh. And he couldn't take his eyes off of her, how her bottom looked as she
folded stock,
talked to customers, a raging hard-on all night, and not much of the books gett
ing done, he'll worry about that later, because now it's time to close and the d
oor is locked
and the front lights are down, and Marnie is waiting for her spanking.
He puts his arm around her waist as her leads her to the back room, his hand sli
pping down to cup her bottom, and she let's him. His cock is rock hard as he sit
s down and
she comes across his lap and he gently sweeps up the back of her skirt and there
is her lovely bottom, in pale pink panties. She chose them special, she wanted
to please him,
and they do.
He spanks her panties firmly, eagerly, almost too quickly, then breathing excite
dly he reaches for her panties, and she squirms and mews, but doesn't really pro
test as he
takes them down. She really wants her first bare bottom spanking, and he so ver

y much wants to give it to her. They blend into this crisp firm smack on bare fl
esh spanking
symphony with rustling squirms and mewing sobs and calm reminders about lessons
and spankings, that wafts onto the gentle air of a Marin night, and through the
open transom
above the door out onto the loading dock.
Next to the loading dock is the storage area for the adjoining Mexican restauran
t. And there, cock in hand, one finds Pablo, a 14 year old who buses tables. Pab
lo has heard
peculiar sounds coming from the linen shop stock room on Thursday nights for the
last two weeks. Someone has been getting a spanking. This excites Pablo in a ma
rvelous way,
and when he staked out the front of the house at the restaurant to see who was g
etting the spanking, he was just about floored. How could anybody spank a lovely
, wealthy woman
like Marnie? How could a 16 year old do it?
So many families in Marin are better off than Pablo's, his parents from Guatemal
a, but all of his family works and all of the kids are in school and will stay i
n school until
they earn college degrees and get good jobs. But right now Pablo has got Marnie
on his mind, and Marnie gets spanked every Thursday night, while he listens.
Pablo's English is not
h. But now there is an
a six-pack
of Mexican beer. Would
? The explanation does
ognize a
kindred spirit.

too good, one reason why he and Brian have not spoken muc
incentive. On the following Thursday, Pablo drops by with
Brian like this? Of course, but why the sudden generosity
not come easily but it gets through. Brian is able to rec

Marnie is puzzled when this very young Hispanic boy appears in the linen shop th
at evening. Does he want to see something? The answer is yes, he wants to see Ma
rnie, in
all her Marin mom glory, so that he can truly appreciate what is later to come.
Brian arrives and tells Marnie he works nearby and is scouting for gifts for rel
atives, to
show him around the store. But he hardly notices the stock and can't keep his e
yes off of her, especially her bottom, so lovely in a snug maroon skirt. He can
just imagine
that skirt being lifted.
Not much more than an hour later his imagination is replaced with reality. Brian
has left open a stock room window. Pablo is riveted to it. Marnie is across Bri
an's knee.
That snug maroon skirt is smartly spanked and spanked, then raised to revealing
the most inspiring site Pablo has ever seen, Marnie's bottom in black panties.
These panties
are firmly and thorough spanked, then slowly lowered until a magnificent pale b
ottom already spanked dark pink is revealed. Now it is methodically spanked redd
er. Pablo has
come more than once and feels like he will swoon. He's gone, missing the best p
art, when Brian reaches for the hairbrush.

Brian worked every Thursday night for months, that is except for when he had maj
or tests on Fridays, when his schedule is shifted. With Marnie able to cover, th
ings are
more in flux and with a major test the next week she is scheduled to arrive at
4 pm to relieve the day shift, and is told his uncle will arrive to close.
But it's 8 pm closing time and his uncle has not arrived, instead at 8:10 the yo
ung Hispanic busboy from the restaurant next door arrives. He's been spending mo
re time in
the store, not buying anything, but certainly checking out Marnie. He has the ke
y to close up. Marnie is relieved to see him and goes to gather her things. He l
ocks the
door from the inside and follows her into the back room.
She comes out of the restroom to find him sitting in the store room chair. She l
ooks at him quizzically. He stumbles with his English, trying again until he can
say,
This week it is me.
The frightened and passionate look in his young eyes flashes across the room. Sh
e takes a step, meaning to leave, but he takes her arm, she pulls back and he pu
lls harder.
Oh, why not. She let's him take her across his knee.
The Fall League -- m/F
AJ Wilshire

The boys' conversation was falling into a familiar pattern Alison Hamer noted, a
s she got lunches ready for the next day. They'd speak at a normal level, then o
ne would say something louder and the others would laugh or groin or shout him d
own. Then he'd come back even louder. At least, Brandon always would.
Brandon wasn't the most popular or the best athlete, but he was the most sure of
himself. The same age as her own son, Devon, just 15, he seemed older. Especial
ly when Alison was around.
She finished the lunches and paused, deciding what to tackle next when their con
versation caught her attention. The boys were seated at the table in the breakfa
st nook just around the corner. She was only getting bits of what they were sayi
ng before deciding to unload the dishwasher at the edge of the kitchen, which br
ought her within their sightline.
I would give my left nut to spank that fine derriere, Brandon said in a sort of st
age whisper just as Alison's fine derriere came into view. If it had been unclea
r which fine derriere Brandon was talking about, the hushed response made it obv
ious that it was hers. She froze. This wasn't the first time Brandon had made he
r feel overwhelmed. She should chime in as any mother would, scolding him or mak
ing a joke. But she didn't. She couldn't move. That he wanted to spank her botto
m, that the other boys knew, that she was standing there her back to them, her f

ine derriere on display in hip-hugging khakis, put him in control of her she fel
t and the embarrassment flushed through her.
The boys had gathered to discuss the fall soccer league, specially how they were
going to raise money for it. The usual ideas were tossed out -- a carwash, a cl
ean-up crew, etc. when Brandon suggested a spanking booth. The others hooted. Abs
olutely. We'd raise more money than ever. Imagine if we got Miss Priss Clariss (
the pretty, young French teacher). Half the school would show up. Or how about m
oms
The boys mock groined in approval. Mrs. Simon, Mrs. Tompkins, Mrs. Hiyakawa!, h
e was picking up steam. Or, Devon's mom. Those white shorts she wears. A royal gro
in of lustful approval. I would give my left nut to spank that fine derriere.
And there it was, suddenly and splendidly making an appearance. She obviously he
ard. Brandon was so stunned he didn't know what to do. The silence lingered. Fin
ally, her son Devon said, Hey, mom, we're trying to raise money for the fall leag
ue. Any ideas? But before he finished she'd left. You're such an ass-hole, Brandon
, said another boy, and the fervor of their condemnation masked their own shamefu
l desire. Yes, spanking Alison's fine derriere, not that they would, but if they
could and no one would know about it
those thoughts followed them into their be
drooms that evening and got rubbed into the sheets. Not the first time Alison Ha
mer appeared in the lustful fantasies of local boyhood. She was, in fact, a favo
rite.
Alison was a shy, nerdy girl growing up, slender without much of a figure in hig
h school. Except, she did have a delightfully plump little bottom, duly noted by
the voices at the bad boys table. Sexual maturity came later for her and this i
dea of boys liking her bottom was a bit confusing. Everyone was always talking a
bout boobs. But then there was Mr. Jameson. He lived across the street and never
missed an opportunity to say hello to young Alison, and especially to watch her
as she walked away. There was also her friend Liliana's father, suddenly attent
ive when she showed up and turned her bottom toward him, and of course, Uncle Ha
rry, who had a friendly manner which sometimes included a friendly pat on her lo
vely behind.
Things changed in college. She was a good student, got into a good school, becom
e friends with other smart late-blooming girls just like her, and gained confide
nce in herself. She filled out, learned to enjoy jogging and yoga, and was quite
the darling when she married Devon's father. That hadn't worked out too well. N
o trouble really, there just wasn't the fire that she had hoped would develop ov
er time. Instead, sex became more perfunctory. Her husband became infatuated wit
h a younger woman at work and soon the marriage was over.
Things weren't so bad really. She was a scientist and had a job she loved, doing
good work with the state natural resources department, a nice home in Marin and
her son Devon. She also had that pair of white shorts which made that lovely bo
ttom of hers look downright impudent. Like it was just asking for a spanking.
The first game of the fall league was played on a glorious warm sunny fall morni
ng. Many onlookers were dressed in shorts but none drew the attention of Alison'
s white shorts. Devon couldn't believe his eyes. What was his mom thinking? He k
new she was attractive, pretty dark eyes, blonde hair, a slender figure with sma
ller, nicely rounded breasts. And of course that bottom. She was 5'5 and 120 lbs.
and ok, maybe she was about the best looking mom, but what was she thinking?

Really she hadn't been thinking. It was a nice day and the white shorts were cle
an and she liked wearing them, how snugly they fit. But when she joined the othe
r moms on the sideline she knew she'd made a mistake. Trying not to notice, the
boys were having a hard time keeping their eyes off of her, and then a loud thou
ght occurred which became insistent until she was afraid she was going to say it
out load, These are the shorts that Brandon wants to spank me in.
Yes, Brandon. A spanking from Brandon. That again.
Once that thought erupted it caused an involuntary response which frightened her
and sent flushing waves through her. The rest of the world would seem unreal an
d the only thing she really wanted was the release she'd get under the covers, w
ith her hand between her legs imagining it.
Devon's team was quite good but their play was lackluster the first half, agains
t an inferior team. Things got worse in the second half, the other team gaining
confidence and pressing, pressing, pressing until surely they would break throug
h. But they didn't. Finally a break the other way, and a sudden score with only
seconds in the game. The team tumbled joyously into a heap and the fans leaped t
ogether into a big scrum of substitutes and parents and siblings.
Within that wild scrum Alison's white shorts took a sharp smack, dead center. Sh
e froze. Another sharper smack found her left buttock. She should do something.
Instead she was immobilized. That insistent thought gripped her, Stand still and
let him spank you. A third, dead center again, really searing her. The scrum sett
led down. Another mom turned and hugged her, Honey, are you ok? You look like you
r having a heart attack.
The game commenced and shortly was over,
ain. This time the players and onlookers
he do? She should go and join them, that
odies, and a hand on her bottom, firmly,
thought.

and the celebrating started all over ag


joined in a big mosh pit. What should s
insistent voice again. Jubilation and b
cupping it. He's having a good feel, she

Later in her passionate, secret replay, she reversed things. First, he has his g
ood feel of her bottom, then he smacks it. First, she stands there and let's him
feel her bottom, then she let's him spank it. First, she gets felt up, then she
gets spanked. She gets spanked. She got spanked. Brandon spanked her.
It's days later and the thought has hardly left. At least Devon is with his dad
tonight so she'll be alone. What a thought. There's work to do. Important work f
or the environment. But barely an hour later it's lunch time and while waiting f
or the elevator there is another big POW, what if these other people knew that B
randon spanked me. That makes her flush with embarrassment.
It's still light out in the early evening but Alison has gone to bed, replaying
again. This time when he feels her bottom she responds, she moans, and when he s
macks her bottom she responds again, she pushes her bottom out. He'd like that,
wouldn't he? Oh, I bet he would. He gets to spank a mother, and she sticks her b
ottom right out so he can spank her harder. The thoughts are so powerful she doe
sn't hear the doorbell, until it's been rung several times in quick succession.

Oh my god. Who is it? She jumps out of bed filled with guilt, grabs a pair of sl
acks and hops her way into them while heading down the hallway. Before answering
the door, she looks to see who it is. It's Brandon. She thinks she should be fr
ightened or excited or something, but she's just kind of numb. The thought from
within says simply, He's here because he wants to spank you, so let him in so he
can give you a spanking.
Brandon is nervous but determined. He's practiced what he's going to say. Maybe
he's just dreaming it all, so he's ready to pull things back. But really, when s
he showed up in those white shorts, and then when he gave her a good hard smack,
and she took it and two more, and then let him really feel that delicious botto
m, well, it is pretty clear she's aching for a spanking.
The look on her face tells him he's right. There's intense excitement behind tho
se pretty dark eyes but when she talks it sounds far away, almost dreamy. He has
a present for her, for the big win the other day, a special present for her. Wh
y do I have a funny feeling about this? she wants to know. Open it and see, he s
ays. It's a paddle, with a caricature of a cute cowgirl sticking her pretty butt
out and the words, For my birthday spanking, stenciled on it. Very funny, she say
s, but my birthday is not for six months. No, I'm late. It's for your last birth
day, he says.
He grabs her wrist and starts taking her to the sofa, and it hits them both, thi
s is really going to happen. He sits and she hesitates, then he tugs her and she
lets him take her over his lap. She squirms, then settles and gets sucked into
the reality of being across his lap for a spanking. It's so incredibly exciting
while also being so calming. It feels true. He is as hard as he's ever been and
she can feel that too. His hand is feeling her glorious bottom, this is so much
better than his dreams, but there's one more checkpoint and he says, Are you ok w
ith this?
There are a thousand ways she can answer that but something comes up from deep w
ithin and she says, It's what you want, isn't it? Mr. Jameson, Liliana's father, U
ncle Harry, some of Devon's other friends, it's what they want, isn't it?
He smacks her firmly and she squirms, two more scorchers and more squirming, whi
ch wildly delights him, her squirming rubbing his hard cock. She's not wearing p
anties and the slacks she jumped into are thin cotton, hardly protection against
the hard smacks from his hand. Half dozen, a dozen firm spanks fall and the har
sh reality of spanking becomes clear to her.
There's a break, both breathing heavily, while Brandon takes up the paddle. You d
eserve this, don't you? The searing stroke of the paddle stuns her, and she hears
him asking her to answer him. Another loud, scorching stroke. What's the damn q
uestion? she ponders while wagging that delicious bottom this way and that. Anot
her harsh stroke, Answer me. Do you deserve his? Deserve this? she answers breathles
sly, Why? Equally breathless from the exertion, the shear thrill of spanking her w
hile trying to hold back a blast of an orgasm, he blurts out, The white shorts, fo
llowed by another white hot paddle stroke.
The white shorts. Yes, the white shorts. She wore the white shorts to the game,

and that was acting like a tease, daring him to spank her. She does deserve this
spanking. Another stroke lands before she can speak and when she does, she says
, It hurts so muucchhhh, and starts sobbing. Which earns her another hard stroke. I
know it hurts, he says, taken at the submissive sound of her sobbing, he has rea
lly taken control of her. But do you deserve it? Yeeeeesss, she responds in a whiny
defeated sob. Yes, what? I deserve this spanking.
She wasn't coherent after that, stroke after stroke, sobbing, squirming, until h
e stopped and they both felt the exhaustion.
It doesn't make any sense that a mom in her late 30s should gain confidence afte
r being spanked by a her son's 15 year old friend, especially such a thorough sp
anking,
but that's what happened. Maybe it was Alison's practical, scientific side weigh
ing the evidence. She had become fixated on spanking since she learned of Brando
n's interest
in spanking her, and the actual spanking exceeded her expectations enormously.
It hurt and while she was being spanked she desperately wanted it to end. But ha
ving been
spanked, she wanted to be spanked again. She had experienced more orgasms in the
past week or so than in the previous year. Something felt settled within her. S
he would
never say this to another person, but there was something exquisitely naughty ab
out being desired in that way and then actually submitting her really quite love
ly bottom
to a spanking. It was made to be spanked and Brandon was a lucky young man to be
allowed to spank it.
She missed the next week's game, a rare occurrence, but there was a sale she wan
ted to shop. On the weeknight her son spent with his father, she was out at the
movies since
Brandon obviously knew the schedule. Both of these caused young Brandon to plung
e into fear and doubt. But his mood brightened considerably when Alison arrived
at the next game,
on a brisk, cloudy day wearing a hoody and those white shorts.
This time it was Brandon who seemed dreamy upon Alison opening the door to him,
for she was wearing a thin, shorty sleep-tee and clearly was braless. Why Brandon
, whatever
are you doing on my doorstep? She opened wide the door and gestured for him to e
nter, then led the way to the sofa and sat with her legs curled beneath her, sho
wing her
legs up to the top of her thigh. Brandon suddenly realized that he'd seen that
sleep-tee before, during a sleep over. While bending to take something out of a
drawer in the
kitchen, the tee had ridden up in the back and just a bit of her delicious bott
om in pale pink panties had come into view. More than enough to feed his fevered
dreams of
spanking for many months.
There was an awkward silence. What to say? He told her the tee story, well some
of it. She smiled, then dashed off. Returning, she put her hand on her hip and d
rew the tee up
just a bit, turning sideways to him, her pink pantied bottom coming into view,
saying Look familiar? He snatched her up and drew her across his knees. You're goin

g to get
a good one.
The tee at the small of her back, Brandon paused to let it sink in, Alison's per
fectly spankable round bottom in all it's pink pantied glory presented to him fo
r a spanking.
So delicious.
He spanked, she squirmed, he spanked, she mewed. The spanking was loud, firm and
went on and on, until they were both exhausted. God, she was delicious to spank
. Lord, he
spanked so hard but when was she ever more alive?
Where's the paddle? he asked. No reply. A couple of firm spanks, and without warni
ng in a flash she was off his lap. How did she do that, he wondered, then he tho
ught that
she could have done that at any time so she really does want spankings, and now
he saw how adorable she was standing before him rubbing her sore bottom.
Where's the paddle?
No paddle, she said as she regained her composure. I want you to
go and get the paddle, bring it to me, so I can take your panties down and spank
your
bare bottom with it. No paddle, it hurts too much, she said, then sensing his next
movement she dashed off, and he chased after her. You'll never find it, she yelle
d,
shrieking and laughing as he cornered her in the den. At the last instant, she
relaxed and let him take her and with that he put his arms around her and held h
er close, his
hands reaching down and under the tee, feeling her spanked warm bottom.
No paddle, she said into his shirt, sounding girlish. Yes, he said. No, she whined,
hurts too much. Spank me with your hand. Panties down? he asked. She exhaled
and nodded yes against his chest. Yes, you can take them down. His cock groaned.
On the short trip from the corner to the den couch one of those big thoughts cam
e up again for Alison and the reality of the situation dawned. This is it, a bar
e bottom
spanking. It hit her. As Brandon slowly took down her panties, sobs from deep w
ithin began to surface. She heard the first crisp sound of hand smacking bare fl
esh and it was
real, Brandon saying, And from now on all your spankings will be on the bare, pus
hing her over into open crying. Brandon was getting what he wanted, and it hurt
so much
and was so embarrassing and shameful. And so exciting.
All her spankings WERE on the bare. Every week through the rest of the fall seas
on, her jeans would be undone or her skirt would be raised, and her panties woul
d be taken down,
so that Brandon could give her bare bottom a long and thorough spanking. He lov
ed every moment, every movement, but the peak experience for him was her letting
go to sobs. He
thought they were from the firmness of the spanking, but he began to learn they
came from within her. He noticed that sometimes what he said would set her off.

It

A grown woman
like you having to have her bare bottom spanked,

could do the trick.

The fall league ended with a crucial game against their long-time rival. Devon h
ad his best game of the year, Brandon played a bit and they won the game and cha
mpionship. Their
league was recreational and the next higher league was very competitive so this
was the last time most players would be playing, including Devon. The victory p
arty was
bittersweet for all, and more ways than one for Alison.
At the party's conclusion, the parents, mostly moms, lined up and the players ga
ve them bigs hugs and thanks. After several hugs, one of the players drew Alison
close and felt
her bottom while telling her that he really appreciated her attending the games
, causing her to freeze. Another passed, then Brandon took his time saying thank
s, secretly
cupping her bottom. The next, a team star, managed to slip his hand under her s
kirt and feel her panty covered bottom. This was really too much, and Alison dis
creetly
snagged his arm to withdraw his hand. Another in line had followed this interact
ion closely and when his turn came, he chose Alison's other side, where her righ
t arm held her
purse, her jacket, some left-overs she was taking home and the awards Devon had
won. She felt the hand slide down her thigh, then up under her skirt, and with h
er hand
unavailable she froze, then turned to face her molester. She saw a young boy who
looked absolutely terrified. Something inside her melted and she found herself
smiling.
He was a junior team manager and she looked him in the eye and told him how much
of a contribution his work had been to the team's success, in the meantime turn
ing slightly
which allowed him to fully cup her bottom. He felt an electric sense of relief
and excitement, and just then someone started to make a speech, everyone quietin
g down, with
Alison stepping just slightly toward him to see better. This emboldened him and
he ran his fingertips along the leg band of her panties, then went under them,
slipping his
hand inside her panties and feeling her bare bottom.
This caused a pulse through Alison. A reality check. At a soccer party, here she
was a mom allowing a boy to slip his hand inside her panties to feel her bottom
. Surely she
deserved a good, hard spanking for that. And she was going to get one. That fel
t so oddly right. And this young boy was having some very hot moments to savor,
while actually
this was just naughty and not evil or anything. That night she replayed her con
sensual molestation and ached for a hard spanking. She hadn't felt this way sinc
e Brandon
first started spanking her. All the spankings were exciting, no question, but s
ome had settled into a routine. Unless he said that something special that moved
her to let go
into sobs. Otherwise, amid the stinging pain, she just concentrated on how much
he wanted to spank her and how there were so many others who would just love to
have her
bare and over their knee.

After Devon left for his dad's a few days later, she showered and dressed for Br
andon, then laid down on her bed and replayed the soccer party. Yes, she deserve
d a hard
spanking, maybe even the paddle. Brandon would love that. But tonight would be
a special night for them both. Instead of her normal cute but decidedly mom-wear
, she was
dressed as she would be for a date-night when she was married, a sheer bra, for
m-fitting top, snug black skirt that made her bottom look great, creamy white pa
nties that
were marvelous, and black thigh-high nylons. She was dreaming at how she would
look after Brandon took off her skirt and saw her in the white panties and thigh
-highs.
That's when the doorbell rang and she just about burst out of the bedroom.
She swung the door open without checking to see who was there and a bomb went of
f. A nuclear explosion really. There was Brandon, alright, but he wasn't alone.
Next to him,
almost foot shorter, was her molester! His name was Edward, but everyone called
him Mickey, because he looked a little like Mickey Mouse. He was skinny, barely
5 feet, not
good looking, everyone picked on him, but everyone also liked him. Alison almost
fainted.
Brandon suddenly realized that this was probably not a good idea. Mickey was ver
y frightened and wanted to get out of there. Alison was sitting sunken on the so
fa sobbing.
But, perversely, this was a good thing. Alison sobbing touched something inside
Brandon -- this was his good zone. He told Mickey to go to the den and watch som
e TV. Then he
took Alison onto his lap and held her sweetly, comforting her. She just sobbed a
nd sobbed and sobbed, but darn it felt so good. Finally, she became quasi-cohere
nt and started
saying how no one else could ever know about them. It was her fault, she sudden
ly concluded, fully coherent, because they hadn't had this talk sooner. Who know
s, what they're
doing could be illegal. She could be charged with a crime. If Brandon's mother
ever found out, there would be hell to pay. What if Devon found out? This was ab
solutely
terrible. What was Brandon thinking?
All this hit Brandon hard. Yes, if his mother found out it would be awful. He di
dn't want Devon to find out either. He didn't want anything bad to happen to Ali
son. He was
quiet for a while. Then he said something that touched her. What they had was ab
solutely wonderful, the best. Better than that. What they had was historic even.
But it was
a secret. There was just something inside of him that wanted to say, I did this
! She is mine! What they had would be so much better if just one other person kn
ew. That's why
he brought Mickey, because Mickey is absolutely trustworthy. He would never brea
k his promise.
The idea of someone knowing that she took spankings from Brandon had this indesc

ribably naughty quality for Alison. She gave into it and started flushing again.
What did
Brandon have in mind? It was pretty simple. Mickey would stay in the kitchen, wh
ile Alison got spanked in the living room. He would not see anything, but would
hear the
spanking. Just this one time. And that's it.
Ten minutes later, after Alison had freshened up, and looked absolutely superb,
Brandon took her into the den and told Mickey that things were fine, and Alison
had something to
say. Not making eye contact she said, It is true that sometimes Brandon spanks m
e and
he is going to spank me now. Brandon told Mickey that he was to stay in the
den,
then turned Alison away from him giving him a splendid view of her splendid der
riere, which flushed her again, finally taking her down the hall and into her be
droom, the door
remaining ajar.
Mickey had never taken speed, but he was experiencing something close to that. A
fter a prolonged silence, from down the hall came the sound of slow clapping. He
paced the den,
wow, what an experience, she really is getting spanked down there. Out the den a
nd down the hallway. The spanking stopped and he froze wondering if they heard h
im and he should
scamper back. But after a moment, the spanking began again -- Brandon had pause
d to remove Alison's skirt, Mickey could just make out his gasp of pleasure as h
e saw her in
white panties and dark thigh-highs.
The spanking now began in earnest and Mickey crept along the hallway, drinking i
n the sharp smacks and also hearing Alison's plaintive mewing. At the end of the
hall he could
see a bathroom right next to her bedroom, making him reverse course to the kitc
hen, snatch a glass tumbler and quickly and silently pass her bedroom door open
just a sliver
to enter the bathroom, where he put the tumbler against the wall and listened a
s Brandon spanked Alison's lovely bottom. It was like he was in the room, and Al
ison's squirming
shuffles and sobs entranced him.
Enough. Enough! He stood next to her bedroom door and peered in, seeing her feet
and ankles twisting as the spanking continued. Gingerly pushing the door, the l
ength of her
calves, then her thighs came into view, until finally it was her bottom, so lusc
ious in those white panties, and spanked so very hard as Brandon's hand came dow
n again and
again. Brandon noticed the door's movement and shifted Alison so her bottom was
higher, more prominent across his knee, before continuing the spanking with rene
wed gusto.
Spanking her in front of Mickey was a huge turn on. In a moment, he paused and r
eached for the band to her panties, pulling them expertly down, unveiling her be
autiful bottom
as a work of art to a connoisseur.
Under such exquisite naughtiness, Mickey let go of the door, which caused it to

slowly open another couple of inches, and as Brandon's hand came crisply down on
her now bare
bottom, the firmest smack yet, ouch!, Alison bucked and tossed her head up and
saw the light from the hall nightlight come dimly into view in the mirror above
her vanity.
She could tell Mickey was watching and something inside her went squish. And she
orgasmed, squirming into deep sobs.
Poor Mickey was undone. He squeezed his cock inside his jeans and popped up his
best come ever. Then, feeling wet and dirty and suddenly seeing this as a rather
profoundly
perverse situation -- funny how a come can do that, he made his way rather noisi
ly back to the den. Where he waited ready to go, and waited, as Brandon continue
d to spank
Alison.
On the ride home, Mickey really wanted to get out of there, and yes, absolutely,
he promised Brandon that he would never, ever tell another soul, and he really
meant it. It
was really kind of horrible and he wanted to forget it.
When he woke up the next morning though, it was early, he was rock hard and sore
from rubbing against the mattress, and Alison's bare and red-spanked bottom was
inescapable.
Last night he'd watched Devon's super-sexy mom get a bare bottom spanking, and
this wasn't a fantasy, it was real. He rubbed out a super come. Then felt terrib
le, this was
disgusting.
10:30 and he's in French, which he's really good at, and Miss Clarissa is so pre
tty, with a lovely body. Except, Devon's mom is prettier, and she has a lovelier
body,
especially her butt, which is so super sweet. And last night he saw her getting
spanked bare bottom. His cock is enormous and he can't wait to get home, and it
takes forever
for the day to end, until he's back in his room, and he's seeing Brandon take do
wn Alison's panties, like he is doing it just for his own pleasure, and he comes
hard. But god
he's sore and this is just horrible. That night the cycle repeats, and the next
day. Then a day off. What stupidity, how awful. Then he gets blasted with a thou
ght. She
likes it. Devon's mom, with the super fantastic bottom, loves to have it spanked
. He really can't quite handle that.
But there is a part of him that can. It is the part of him that slipped his hand
under her dress and into her panties to feel that wonderful bottom. It is a par
t of him that
is easily emboldened.
A week has slipped by. Devon is at his father's. Brandon is with his family in T
ahoe. It's the day before Thanksgiving. Alison answers the doorbell. It's Mickey
. After the
shock wears off, that deep thought within Alison says, maybe he'll need the padd
le.

Meredith Cummings, thirty-two years old, wearing a long beautiful


milky white gown stood waiting on what was supposed to be the msot
important day of her life. Oh, this couldn't be happening! This kind
of thing never happened, and never to her knights of shining armor in
her dreams.
Nevertheless, there Meredith stood, wringing her hands, tears marring
her well-done make-up.
Those around Meredith, namely her six bridesmaids all gathered around
her in shock. No words seemed to form on their lips. These were six
women, all married, with children, all in their mid to late thirties
and not a one was prepeared for this. Not a one knew what to do or
say.
Meredith stood there, her eyes tranfixed on what was happeneing before
her, and tears of guilt began to sting her eyes. Oh, it was all her
fault. It was her idea for the bridal party to go out drinking and
blow-off the rehersal and rehersal dinner, along with the families and
invited guests. She had reasoned, afterall, it was her day and that
had been her night. She now deeply regretted that decision and the
price that was now being paid.
There, right in front of herself and her bridesmaids, Kevin,
Meredith's fiancee danced in pain across the knees of his Best Man,
his young teen brother, Marcus. Meredith's pleas for Marcus to stop
went unheeded as Marcus continued to spank his older brother like a
child, scolding him for his actions and the hurt they had caused the
family the night before.
To Kevin's horror, he had long passed keeping up a brave front and now
sobbed like a pitiful child across his brother's capable lap. Bad
enough Kevin whined and sobbed like a child, his ever-reddening bare
hind-end wagged to and fro in full view of his wife-to-be and her six
best FEMALE friends. Kevin was mortified.
Meredith was so confused right now, a bundle of emotions. Afterall,
she felt it was totally right to blow-off her family and friends but
now...now, her own Knight in Shining Armor was getting HIS armor
soundly polished across the knees of his little brother. Kevin's
actions were embarassing Meredith to no end, and shocking the leering
bridemaids to-boot!
"This can't be happening!", thought Meredith, "This is supposed to be
MY day! The happiest day of MY life!"
"Oh, Kevin! How could you? Fight back, damn-it. He's just a little
boy! You can't let him do this to you!"
Kevin just kept yelling "ouches" and "Ow's" as the smack after smack
of Marcus's bare open palm made contact with his older brothers now
mottled and bruising skin.
Outside the door, down the small hall,
hundred people, the preacher, and five
nervously for the bride to appear. The
late, and from the sounds wafting into

and into the church some twobefuddled groomsmen waited


ceremony was already running
the large open church, and the

incessant sobbing that played a merry harmony with the smack-smacksmacking noise that bounced all around the churches vaulted ceilings,
it did not seem the ceremony would be starting at all.
Meredith , now sobbing herself, finally at her wits end, shouted at
her fincee and brother-in-law-to be, "Kevin, if you don't stop this
right now, I'll not marry you! KEVIN, are you hearing me? And you, you
little brute, last night wasn't even Kevin's idea. NO, he pleaded with
me and my friends to return for the dinner, but WE wouldn't listen.
As if hearing Meredith for the first time, and even acknowledging she
was there, Marcus stopped, mid-spank, and querried to the assembled
femine eyes, "Is that true?"
Seven women shook their heads in acknowledgement, arms crossed in
judgemental fashion. Their faces all but laughing at Marcus's actions
in punishing an innocent man.
Marcus looked down to his brother's sobbing face and querried again,
"Is this true?"
Kevin would not answer and was rewarded with ten quick smacks all to
the very same spot, the center of his fanny, driving Kevin to screech
like a schoolgirl.
"Now, brother of mine, I'll ask again!, is this true?"
Kevin sighed in resignation, shook his head in the affirmative and
then dropped his head to resume his sobbing.
"Well, bro., at least you tried to do the right thing, but as you
already know, trying is not doing. So, big brother, gather up your
drawers and tux and drag your sorry ass over to that corner there, and
not a peep from you or else!"
Kevin knew what was coming, so he tried to intervene, "B-But,
Marcus,...!"
Marcus cut him off sharply with a, "NOT A PEEP! MARCH, YOUNG MAN!"
Kevin dragged up his boxers and tux pants as best he could and waddled
with very little dignity to the nearby corner.
As all assembled stood there watching in silence, Marcus rose, walked
to the small changing room door and turned the key, pulling it from
the lock and dropping it in his own tux pant's pocket for safekeeping.
Slowly he removed his tux jacket and, having removed the cuff-link
from his right sleeve, he began to roll up that sleeve.
"There, that's better!, was all Marcus said as he turned and advanced
on a still whimpering Meredith!
Outside the rhythmic smack-smack-smack of a man's hand striking
distinctly bare feminie flesh wafted out to the assemled wedding
guests. As Meredith's cries quickly followed, Meredith's mother tried
to stand up and go to her daughter's assistance, only to have her arm
grabbed by her husband and a curt order for her to sit down to follow!
The spanking rang ever so clearly through the church now, the preacher
looked up to the organist and gave a hurried signal. The old mighty

church organ blared to life and did its' best to drown out the
incessant screams and sobbing that followed.
Many in the crowd began to laugh when they realized that the organist,
in her fear of what was transpiring began playing in time to the
spanks that flowed so crsiply from the now-locked changing room.
It was almost an hour-and-a-half later that the organ at last blared
out the wedding entrance song. In walked six of the sorriest looking,
weeping bridesmaids, followed by a simllarly sobbing bride that
clearly had quite a bit of difficulty just walking. She met her father
at the back of the Church and only one look in his eyes and she knew
all that Marcus had done was not only justified, but long overdue.
Somehow, Kevin and Marcus had made their way to the front of the
church, where kevin stood proudly awaiting his bethrothal to his just
chastised love!
The bridesmaids all limped their way painfully forward to their
respective seats and awaited the transfer of the bride. Meredith's
father lifted her veil revealing a face much too swollen and puffy
from crying and the old man's heart broke then and there. His look
told her all she needed to know, Meredith knew she was forgiven. She
turned to Kevin, her Knight in now crimson armor, and extended her
hand. She wanted HIS forgiveness as well. He grasped it and the warmth
that flowed told her all was well in her world, well mostly!
The preacher began the service and then directed everyone to sit for
the reading of the scriptures. The entire church of people seated
themselves in unison, that was, except the eight people up front. Both
the bride and groom (to be) tried, but immediatly rose after releasing
quite vocal complaints, ackowledging the pain they had experienced in
trying to sit. Their faces masks of real suffering and agony!
Three of the bridesmaids now stood there rubbing their just nearly-sat
upon bottoms, ruefully trying to rub away the pain that assailed their
burning fannies. Three, more literally, hopped about as if thousands
of bees were attacking their bottoms where they stood. Their faces
twisted in almost comical stages of discomfort.
A small ripple of laughter wafted through the church until the
Preacher took in the entire scene, smiled, rose his hands to hush the
giggling and laughter, and then stated,"You may ALL take a seat,
EXCEPT the bridal party, it appears!" A roar of laughter followed,
which the preacher let go on for quite some time.
When it finally subsided, the preacher put down the Holy Book and
smiled, exclaiming. "Isn't love grand?" The church responded "AMEN!"
and then, on went the ceremony!
To those of you looking for a story of gorgeous women with 38DD s and over endowed
young men, please leave now. This is a story of my mother, who was then an ordi
nary 40 year old housewife in the North East of England and me, her 13 year old
son. She was and is quite small in every way - about 5ft 2ins and very slim. Loo
king at her chest in a shirt, you would swear she was boy. I had just had a gro
wth spurt and was taller and heavier than her. I played a lot of sport and was q
uite fit.
I write in the English of England and I apologise that some words will appear un

familiar to those that speak the English of other parts of the world. Actually t
he English of the North East is unfamiliar to those in rest of Britain, but I m su
re we ll get along.
Many authors claim their work is entirely fiction. Others claim it is based on t
rue events. I leave you to decide. In either case, it s a story.

Chapter 1
Mother came home drunk on the night of her 40th birthday. In fact she came home
drunk every Friday night since Dad left us about 5 years ago. For the rest of th
e week, she was perfectly sober, but on Friday nights, it was on with the skimpy
clothes, into a taxi and off to the bright lights of Newcastle. I should explai
n about the skimpy clothes. It seems that the people of the North East have diff
erent blood to everyone else. It is not uncommon to see people in t-shirts and s
horts in the snow. At a recent football match in London, it started to snow. The
Arsenal fans huddled deeper into their many layers of clothes. The Newcastle fa
ns took their shirts off. Nights out seems to be competition about who can wear
the least, no matter what the weather.
Mother always leaves home about 8 o clock on a Friday, wearing a bra and panties
, a shirt that leaves her tummy bare and a short skirt. I once asked her why she
didn t wear a coat. It seems that it is hot in the pubs and clubs and there is no
where to leave it. Apart from the clothes, she carries a handbag, containing her
money, her keys and whatever else women carry with them.
Every Friday, there was a meal ready when I got in from school. We ate about 4.3
0 and she goes off to get ready while I get any homework out of the way, so I ha
ve the rest of the weekend free. About 7 o clock, her taxi arrived. She gave me a
kiss, told me what food and drink there was and off she went. The next time I d se
e her is sometime on the Saturday when she eventually got up. I usually heard he
r before that as she comes home in the early hours. I could hear her stumbling a
bout and banging into things downstairs. Shortly afterwards, she d struggle upstai
rs, two or three trips to the toilet, her bedroom door bangs and then I could go
back to sleep. I idn t feel neglected, certainly not abused. That s just the way li
fe was. The rest of the week, I d see a lot of her. She was a good mother, if a li
ttle silly, a little scatterbrained and not very good with money. She didn t work,
so we lived off benefits and she didn t plan her budget, so we often had no money
and just occasionally no food. I d tried to talk to her about it, but she just to
ld me not to worry and that she ll sort it. She never did.
You might get the impression from that, that I was the sensible one in the famil
y and I suppose in some ways I was. I had no idea where my father was and mother
, although she obviously loved me, could be very selfish. Added to her silliness
and her daydreaming, it s no surprise that I WAS a quiet shy boy. I got along wit
h most people but idn t have any close friends. I suppose I was embarrassed about
my home. It was clean and tidy, but we had very little. Our small garden was a w
ilderness and a lot of the interior needed decorating. Apart from sport, I didn t
go out much and I worked hard at school. I wouldn t say I was top of every class,
but my work was good and on time and I didn t give the teachers any trouble. I fig
ured my one chance to pull us out of the poor conditions we lived in was to get
a good job and for that I need a good education. I d always found Maths easy and h
oped to do that at university, then get a job in computers. I think I was quite
sensible and quite mature. Whether others would agree didn t interest me.
Enough of the background and onto the story. The night of her 40th birthday was
the start of it all. I d gone to bed as usual and was fast asleep. A loud banging
on the front door woke me and I scrambled down the stairs wandering what the hel

l was happening. It was about 2.30am


about the time mother usually came home. I
wrenched the front door open, expecting to find the police to tell me of an acc
ident or something worse. So, it was relief to find a taxi driver there.
I ve got a lady in the cab, who asked to be taken to this address, but seems she s ha
d a bit to drink and ..
He shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the taxi at the roadside.
him and opened the rear door. There was my mother sprawled across
, dead to the world. She was lying face down with her skirt almost
st. Her knickers were barely covering the cheeks of her bottom and
to see what else was on display. Thank God it was quite dark.

I rushed past
the back seat
up to her wai
I daren t look

I d get her out myself but, you ve got to be careful. A lot of taxi drivers have got
into trouble on these late night fares with drunk people accusing them of all so
rts of things. I always hope there s someone in. Otherwise it can very tricky.
I m sorry. She s not usually like this but, today s her birthday.
Don t worry about it. Every weekend I see at least one woman like this. Most of the
m are younger, but, don t they realise the danger they are putting themselves in?
I ve got a wife and three girls and if I ever even suspected they had put themselv
es in her position (he pointed to my mother), they d have very sore bottoms!
There s no one to control her. My father left a long time ago and now there s just me
and her.
Well maybe it s time you stepped up to head of the house because sooner or later sh
e ll find herself in a situation that could be tragic.
I was now pulling my mother upright and trying to pull her skirt down to cover h
er modesty
or what was left of it. Eventually I got her out of the car, half sup
porting, half carrying her back to the house.
She hasn t paid me.
rable female.

The taxi driver was still keeping his distance from a very vulne

Mum, can you hear me. Where s your handbag?


She waved vaguely back towards the taxi and I could see her bag on its floor.
Can you get her bag please.
Sorry mate, that s a no . Lot of people get accused of theft with these drunks.
I propped mother against the gatepost, making sure that she could support hersel
f and retrieved her bag from the taxi. I was relieved to find she had enough mon
ey in it to pay the driver and give him the fare plus a tip for bringing her saf
ely home.
Good luck mate, he said You re going to need it with that one. Here s my card in case y
ou need a taxi or anything else.
He dropped back into his cab and drove away leaving me with the problem of what
to with her. When I turned back to her, she had slid to the ground against the g
atepost and was giving me a silly grin.
My hero! Taking car of your silly Mummy.
At least I think that s what she said. She
was slurring her words so badly and her head was dropping so far onto her chest
that she might have been reciting the telephone directory. She was sitting on
the pavement with her legs spread, her knickers on display and they were not cov

ering what they were designed to do. At this stage, there was nothing sexual abo
ut the fact that her knickers were pulled to one side. I was just embarrassed fo
r her and for me. The taxi driver had seen all of her secrets. So had I and who
knows who was peering out of their darkened windows at my mother displaying hers
elf in the street.
I hauled her to her feet and tried to walk her to the front door. After a few st
eps, I realised that it was impossible, slid an arm behind he legs and carried h
er inside. Once there, I let her slide to the floor while I closed and deadlocke
d the front door.
Mother was again out to the world and I stood for a minute wondering what to do.
My Maths teacher always told us to consider our options, choose the best one an
d act on it. I did so then, except there didn t seem to be any options
at least no
ne that were good. At last I chose the one that was least bad and hauled her to
her feet. She needed to be in bed, sleeping it off and it was up to me to get he
r there. I tried to get her to walk up the stairs but there was no response from
her, so I picked her up and carried her up and into her bedroom. Once I d dropped
her onto her bed, I again stood back to think what I should do next. What were
the options?
1.
I could just throw a duvet over her and let her sleep it off. Sounds go
od. But, she would need to get to the toilet and if I left her there would be a
ruined skirt, pair of Knickers and a lot of bedclothes.
2.
I could get her into her nightie and leave her to sleep it off. Maybe.
But, could I face her in the morning, knowing I d undressed her - and still she d ne
ed the toilet.
3.
Take her to the toilet. No. That would mean undressing her and holding
her on the toilet until she had relieved herself.
It s strange that the longer we think about something the more the impossible beco
mes the possible and then the only solution.
I swear at this stage I wasn t thinking about any cheap thrills about seeing my mo
ther naked. Certainly there was nothing sexual in it. I simply wanted to resolve
a situation and face the consequences in the morning. Reluctantly I started to
undress her. There were only four items and it seemed simple. I even had her nig
htdress handy so I could put it on her before I removed her skirt and Knickers.
You should try it with an unconscious body. I couldn t do it. After I had managed
to remove her shirt and bra, I tried to get her nightie on. I managed to get it
over her head but then every time I tried to get an arm in, she fell back onto t
he bed and I was left with a half naked mother. Obviously I couldn t help looking
at what was now on display. She had no breasts! That s not quite true, but what sh
e had wouldn t fill my hand. How do I know? I m ashamed to say I tested it to find o
ut. They were so smooth and soft. STOP! It s your mother. I pulled my hand away. Y
ou couldn t help but notice how long her nipples were. Oh God, what was I getting
into?
Eventually I stood her up with her nightie on and held her over my shoulder to r
emove her skirt. That was easy to pull down once I d figured out the button and zi
p fastenings. I had decided to leave her knickers, but she had to go to the toil
et. Again, we performed the strange dance where she was half dragged, half carri
ed to the bathroom. Once there it was obvious what I had to do and I did it. Aga
in the perverts in many of the stories that I ve read would have thrown her onto t
he bed long before this, ripped her clothes off, jumped on to her and
This was my mother
a woman I loved and respected all week except for Friday nigh
ts. I tried to be as discreet as possible. I still held her over my shoulder, re

ached under her nightie and pulled her knickers down. Once they were at her knee
s, I pulled her nightie up at the back and sat her on the toilet. I sighed in re
lief. All I had to do now was wait until I heard her relieve herself, pull her k
nickers up and carry her back to bed. It turned out not to be so simple. There s a
n old saying,-You can lead a horse to water but you can t make it drink. In my cas
e, you put a woman on the toilet but you can t make her wee.
Then I noticed her knickers. They had fallen around her ankles and they were fil
thy. There were brown stains at the back, yellow stains at the front and a lot o
f white stuff everywhere. What had she been doing? None of my business. Stop thi
nking about it. The obvious problem was easily solved. I took them off and dropp
ed them in the laundry basket. She d have to sleep without them tonight. One probl
em was immediately replaced by another not so simple to resolve. The sounds from
the toilet told me she had not only started to wee, but from the smell she was
having a crap. Now I could put her back to bed without wiping between her legs,
but I couldn t let her sleep with a dirty bottom. This was turning into a nightmar
e!
I was still holding her on the toilet as she was almost completely passed out. I
couldn t think of any way out of the situation and was getting more and more angr
y. Just wanting to get it over with, I grabbed the bathroom stool, sat down on i
t and lifted her towards me. I placed a towel across my knees, lifted her nightd
ress to her waist and lay her across my lap. Her bare bottom was a beautiful thi
ng but right now all I could think of was how angry I was. Remembering the words
of the taxi driver, I began to spank her, but after a couple of swats, I stoppe
d. What was the point? She couldn t feel anything. Best thing to do was get her cl
eaned up and tomorrow we would have a long discussion. She was going to be so as
hamed and humiliated at what had happened tonight when I told her about it.
Kicking her legs apart, I looked at what I had to do. Contemplating cleaning you
r own mother s vagina and anus is not a problem that most people face. So, pushing
all erotic thoughts and those of disgust out of my mind, I filled the sink with
water and began the job. When she was clean and dry, I smacked her bottom anoth
er couple of times, producing no reaction at all.
Pulling her nightie down, I carried her back to bed and covered her with the bed
clothes.
At last, the night was over and I could get back to bed and think about what had
happened and how to handle tomorrow. I was determined that things would be diff
erent from now on and that the humiliation of tonight when I reminded her of it
would be enough to change the dynamics of our relationship. From now on I would
call the shots. If the humiliation of tonight wasn t enough ., Well I was bigger tha
n her and she had such a lovely bottom.
I lay thinking for a long time and the erotic aspects of the situation made me q
uite ashamed and very erect. I was just about giving in to temptation when there
was a crash from her room. I let go of myself and rushed next door, to find her
lying on the floor covered in vomit. What a stink! No way could I leave her lik
e that. Picking her up without getting covered in the stuff myself was difficult
and it wasn.t long before I stopped trying. There was only one answer. I lifted
her nightie keeping as much of the vomit in as possible and pulled it over her
head and off. It was funny to think how careful I had been at the beginning, try
ing to preserve her modesty. Now I d put her on the toilet, washed all of her priv
ate parts and stripped her naked. I made a quick run to the bathroom to drop her
nightie in the bath and back to see to her. She was lying where I d left her, com
pletely naked and filthy where it had seeped through her nightie.
I m sorry.

She whimpered, Still half conscious.

Not as sorry as I am or you re going to be.


I pulled her to her feet, trying to get her to the bathroom, but she would have
fallen again if I hadn t grabbed her. For the second time that night I had hold of
a cute little bare breast. Quickly I moved my hands down to her waist and guide
d my stumbling mother back to the bathroom.
It was my intention to give her a quick hose down in the shower. She didn t seem e
mbarrassed in her drunken state at being naked in front of her 13 year old son b
ut, her 13 year old son surely was. I couldn t help staring at her beautiful breas
ts, her dark brown bush and her adorable womanly bottom. There was definitely a
tension in the pyjama trouser department that disgusted me as it was there becau
se of my mother.
As I was trying to get her into the bath to turn the shower on her, she dropped
to the floor and put her head over the toilet. Immediately, she began retching a
nd coughing yet more alcoholic vomit into the bowl. I stood back from her as she
seemed to be able to support herself with her arms wrapped round the toilet, on
her knees, with her bum in the air and her knees spread as wide as they could g
o. The site of her rear end was so erotic that I had to look away. I kept repeat
ing to myself, It s your mother. It s your mother , but the erotic image would not go a
way. I was aroused. I was embarrassed. I was angry. With her bottom stuck up in
the air, without thinking, I began to spank her in earnest.
I m sorry. I m sorry. Please don t smack me. I ll be good.
et, retching again.

Then she was back over the toil

I was disgusted with myself for taking advantage of her in her vulnerable state,
even though she had brought it on herself with her lack of control in drinking.
I lifted her gently to her feet trying to avoid touching any of her private parts
.
Are you OK now Mum?
Better.

Was all she could slur. She was clearly still very drunk.

Come on. Let s get you cleaned up and back to bed. We ll talk about it tomorrow. Hol
ding her by the shoulders, I lifted one leg over the side of the bath, trying no
t to look at what she was displaying. With one leg in and one out, I was forced
to move down until her bottom was in my arms as I lifted the other leg in.
I don t want to go into all the details because I was quite ashamed of what I did
then. Suffice it to say, as she sat in the bath, I washed every part of her very
thoroughly. There were, in fact some parts that were as clean as they had ever
been. Drying her was just as thorough a job and by the time I was finished there
was not a part of her that was not thoroughly acquainted with my eyes and my fi
ngers. Eventually, I had to stop before I really went over the top. I supported
her back to her room, pulled back the covers and with a last look at her naked b
ody, tucked her in. There was a small amount of vomit on the carpet. I rushed do
wnstairs for the cleaning equipment and by the time that I got back, she was fas
t asleep. Once I d cleaned the carpet and rinsed her nightie, which was still in t
he bath, I put out all the lights and collapsed into bed. What would the morning
bring?
Chapter 2
Despite a long disturbed night, I was up early the
e on a Saturday. It was about 10 o clock. There no
pect to see her for a while. I needed some time to
e down what changes I needed to make in our living
was finance. But there were many others that were

next morning
well early for m
sign of my mother and I didn t ex
think things through and writ
arrangements. Top of the list
important to move us up from

being the
amed.

poor folk

that everyone looked down on, to a level where I didn t feel ash

I got washed and dressed, gave her nightie another rinse out and hung it on the
shower rail over the bath. I also retrieved her knickers from the laundry bin an
d spread them over the edge of the washbasin. I wanted her to see both items as
soon as she got up. I didn t know how much, if anything, she would remember, but I
wanted her to know that she had shamed herself.
In England we tend to eat a big breakfast, so, once downstairs, I started to fr
y bacon, eggs, sausages and mushrooms. I also made toast and coffee. We have a b
uffet warmer, so I was able to keep it hot for her. Typical of our house, there
were no useful gadgets, the carpets were threadbare, the paint was faded and pee
ling, the window frames were rotten, but we had a buffet warmer. Another thing f
or the list prioritise where the money was spent.
Once everything was ready, I ate some toast and drank a cup of coffee. Then gath
ering what little money I had, I ran to the fuel station on the corner. I was ab
le to buy a bunch of flowers (which all fuel stations seem to sell in England) a
nd I had enough left over for a bar of chocolate. It wasn t much but I hadn t bought
her anything for her birthday and I didn t suppose anyone else had either. I thou
ght that one of her problems was that she felt that she was worthless and that n
obody loved her. That was one of the things that I intended to work on.
I ran quickly home and by the time I got there, there were noises from upstairs
toilet flushing and doors banging. I made her an antacid drink for her stomach a
nd put two paracetamol by her plate. Shortly afterwards, she came into the kitc
hen, wearing her dressing gown and looking terrible.
I m so sorry. Was I very bad last night?
Sit down Mother, Sort your stomach and head out, eat some breakfast and we ll talk
about it later.
I only want some coffee. I couldn t ..
You are going to eat some breakfast. There s a lot of sorting out to do and you re go
ing to need your strength.
She looked at me with her big eyes, not sure where this was going, but realising
that what had happened last night had changed our relationship.
You re very bossy this morning!
Just eat your breakfast!
I refused to enter into any more discussions and just sat enjoying the meal and
trying to decide where to go next. She clearly had got the message that today sh
e couldn t forget about everything and just drift along as she usually did. She sa
t down, helped herself to a little bit of everything, looking at me all the time
. I didn t say anything, just stared back. We ate our breakfast, each waiting to s
ee what would happen next.
When she had finished, I cleared the table and produced the flowers and chocolat
e.
Happy birthday, Mum. I know that I should have got them yesterday, but until you
gave me my pocket money last night, I couldn t afford anything.
The tears began to run down her face as stood up and hugged me.

I really don t deserve you. I m such a bad person and you re so kind to me.
No, Mother, you re not a bad person. You re sometimes not a very good mother and you
don t make plans, so your life s in chaos, but you re not a bad person. We re going to t
ry to sort out what you can do about it - with my help As we hugged, my hand was resting lightly on her bottom. Since she didn t object,
I began to rub it, squeezing the cheeks. She just snuggled in closer
- and with the help of this bottom!
What do you mean?
You re going to have a set of rules and every time you mess up, I m going to spank yo
u, starting with now, because of last night.
She pushed away from me, looking shocked.
You can t do that to me. I m your mother.
I know you re my mother. What s that got to do with it?
It s not right.
I had got over the anger of last night but I now spoke with a quiet fury. Was it
right that I had to pull my mother out of a taxi because she couldn t walk? Was it
right that my mother was lying down with her skirt up to her waist and her knic
kers all over the place? Was it right that you were sitting on the pavement with
your legs spread and your knickers all to one side, showing the taxi driver and
any of the neighbours who were looking all that you ve got? Was it right that I h
ad to carry you upstairs and undress you? Was it right that I had to wash your b
ottom and between your legs after you d been to the toilet? Was it right that I ha
d to take your nightie off because you d vomited down it? Was it right I had to cl
ean the carpet and then wash every inch of your naked body because you were in a
filthy state and incapable of doing it yourself?
She was snivelling now. I m sorry.
You will be. Come here.
I took hold of the belt of her dressing gown and undid it. She was naked underne
ath.
No! You can t!
But, I already was. I took hold of the hand that was trying to hold the dressing
gown together and pulled her over my knee. While she was struggling to get up,
I took hold of the back of the dressing gown and pulled it down her arms until i
t was free and threw it on the floor. My naked mother was lying across my knee,
waiting for her first spanking. Well, she wasn t exactly waiting. In fact, she was
putting up quite a struggle, but I moved my left leg over her back, so that she
was trapped between my thighs. Controlling her legs was not too hard and reason
ably soon, I had her in position with her bottom nicely raised.
Open your legs, Mother!
What?
You heard me. Now do as you re told. That got her the first two spanks.

No. I won t. I deserve a spanking for last night, but you can t expect me to expose m
yself.
That was interesting. She had already accepted that I was going to spank her. Pe
rhaps this wouldn t be as hard as I d thought.
Alright. Have it your way. I only intended to use my hand for this first time, bu
t if you re are not going to be obedient, your bottom will suffer. She was still we
aring her slippers, so I reached down and pulled one off her foot.
The impact was much louder than with my hand and her buttock flattened, sprang b
ack into shape before a large pink slipper shaped mark appeared. Three more and
she was howling. It was the strangest sound - something like a dog in pain. She
kept making it whether I was spanking or not.
Please stop!

she wailed.

Open your legs and I ll just use my hands.


She was snivelling now, but as I watched she slowly inched her legs apart.
Very good, mother, but I want them much wider. I reinforced this instruction with
two more of the slipper and she flung her legs as wide apart as they would go.
Now that s better. One last thing and we can get on with your spanking. Put your ha
nds on your bottom and stretch it open so that I can check how clean it is this
morning
or would you prefer some more with the slipper.
She didn t move, just kept whimpering, but as I raised the slipper again, her hand
s came up and took hold of her bottom cheeks.
Wide open, mother. It s not as if I haven t seen it, touched it, washed it and put my
finger in it. The last bit wasn t true, but she didn t know that and she might as we
ll get used to the idea, because I saw it as a way of controlling her. She was n
ow completely exposed, her vagina and her anus lewdly displayed.
Ok! They re not as clean as when I washed them but they ll do for now. I ll take you up
later and clean you up again. I ran my finger down between her cheeks, across he
r anus, through the slippery folds of her vagina to the hard button at the top a
nd back again, pushing a finger a short way into her bottom at the end. I made i
t obvious that I was sniffing my finger before I said, Yes. They definitely need
cleaning again. Right! Let s get this bottom smacked so that we can get on with th
e rest of the day.
I d never spanked anyone before so I didn t know what I was doing. I figured that i
t would hurt my hand as well as her bottom, so if I just continued until my hand
was sore and that would be enough. I had a lot to learn about bottom smacking a
nd other things. The slipperiness of her vagina meant nothing to me and its geog
raphy was a mystery. What were all the bits for and what were they called? Clear
ly, some studying was called for. It should be enjoyable.
There s no point in describing the spanking. Everyone s read lots of descriptions of
them and written a lot better than I can. I just pounded her cheeks as hard as
I could for as long as I could. It was fascinating to watch. The cheeks changed
shape with the impact, wobbled and came back to their original shape. Her legs k
icked and scissored. Her hips pumped up and down. Her cheeks gradually changed c
olour from pale white to a brick red. The colour was useful because it showed wh
ich areas had taken enough and which could use some more. Her vagina and anus we
re fully displayed and, if this was spanking, I was an addict. Poor mother! Ther
e was going to be a lot more of this. I thought my erection was going to burst m

y jeans and I was a bit ashamed of that. Still, I could hold on a bit longer unt
il I could take care of it. Sex with my mother was not something I even thought
about, But this such a turn on
Eventually, my hand was too sore to carry on and I stopped. I rubbed her cheeks
and separated them to look at her anus. I separated the lips of her vagina to ex
amine its mysteries
it was soaking. I thought she d wet herself. Throughout the sp
anking she had kept up a constant whimpering, sobbing kind of wail. When I was e
xamining her, that became a soft moan. Lifting my leg off her back, I stood her
up, not knowing what her reaction would be. For all I knew she d pick up the brea
d knife and you wouldn t be reading this story. In fact, she threw her arms around
me and just kept crying, I m sorry. I m sorry. I m sorry.
I hugged her back, with my hands slipping down to her bottom, rubbing and caress
ing until she calmed down. My erection was pressing into her stomach and she mus
t have noticed but, at that time, nothing was said.
OK. We ve got some talking to do. Let s make a start. Sit in that chair and keep your
legs open. I know it s embarrassing and shameful. But, I want you to remember the
shame next time you re tempted to get drunk. Spread them wide, ease your bottom f
orward and don t even think about rubbing it. I want you sore and embarrassed whil
e I tell you what I see as our problems.
I can t describe how I felt as my naked mother followed my instructions. She sat i
n the chair that I had indicated so that she was facing me. She leant back until
she was against the back of the chair, then pushed herself forward until she wa
s sitting on the edge. Finally, she spread her legs so that her vagina was fully
displayed. My gaze travelled upwards to her little breasts. The nipples were en
ormous, sticking out like little pointy fingers. Moving further up I came to her
face. It was tearful and a little frightened. I could see shame and embarrassme
nt there, but, there was something else. Was it respect? There was even a little
half smile. Women are complex creatures.
My feelings were mostly good. There was an element of guilt at having my mother
in this position, but I also felt relieved that I had started on a way forward.
There was an element of revenge and the certainty that I was going to make up f
or the years of shame at being the kid with the scruffy shoes, the raggy pants a
nd the shirt that was more grey than white. Of course, I was also incredibly tur
ned on.
You sit there. Think about last night, about this morning and about what we need
to do to put our lives right. I need to go to the toilet. I ll be back shortly. In
the mean time, don t move.
Please, I need to go as well.
Sit there. When I come back, I ll take you.
With that I rushed upstairs ripping the zip of my jeans down.
You don t want to hear about the next few minutes. It s quite sordid. What you want
to hear is what happened next but, that s another chapter.

hapter 3
When I came back down, she was still sitting as I had instructed, although she w
as squirming a bit.

Please can I go now. I m going to wet myself!


Have you been a good girl while I ve been upstairs?
Yes!

she sobbed.

I ve been a very good girl, but please let me go.

Come on then.
She leaped of the chair and made to push past me.
Not so fast. I m trying to teach you control. We ll walk up so there won t be any accid
ents.
Why do you need to come?
I took hold of her pubic bush and set off in front of her. With a good grip she
had no choice but to follow me. I had thought about her bush. If I was going to
turn her into my little girl, it really needed to come off, but it was such a go
od place to control her by gripping it. It gave her no choice but to go where I
pulled. So, I supposed that it would have to stay. Of course, there was no reaso
n why it couldn t be trimmed and any hairs (real or imaginary) between her legs or
her bottom cheeks would have to be shaved. A job for another day. Now we needed
to continue her humiliation in the toilet.
I need to come to make sure that you don t make a mess like you did in your knicker
s yesterday and I ve already told you that I need to wash your bottom. Now come on
, before there s a puddle on the floor.
She whimpered all the way up the stairs to the bathroom and tried to push past m
e to the toilet.
Not so fast young lady.

I said as I cracked my left hand across her bottom

We need to do this properly. Stand astride the toilet facing me.


She was by now quite desperate, but tried one last time.
Please go away. I won t be able to do anything with you watching.
You d better or we ll be here a long time. Now do as you re told.
I still had hold of her bush and pulled her into the position astride the toilet
. Then I took the stool from the corner and sat down in front of her. As I pulle
d her over my lap, she suddenly realised what I intended.
No! Please! I won t be able to go like this. Let me sit down and I ll let you watch.
You don t have any choice. You ll do it like this, same as you did last night. You we
ren t shy about weeing and even pooping in exactly this position.
Of course that wasn t true, but I was counting on her not remembering. The object
of all of this was to shame and humiliate her and if she believed more about las
t night than actually happened, so much the better.
I m going to start spanking you again. When I see you starting to wee, I ll stop.
I wriggled her body until she was directly over the toilet. No point in wetting
the floor and since I thought I could control the direction, I had her where I w
anted her.My hand cracked down onto her already sore bottom and she howled. I co
ntinued and immediately regretted it. My hand was on fire. Her bottom wiggled an

d jiggled. The buttocks squeezed tight and then splayed wide allowing me a view
that I found quite breathtaking, but which she would find humiliating if she cou
ld just think about it. I was just thinking that she had won and I would have to
stop before my hand exploded, when there was a trickle, then a spurt and then a
stream. As quickly as I could, I took hold of her lips and pulled her as wide a
s I could. I d never known where a woman weed from before. It was fascinating. All
the time, she was sobbing and when she gulped air in, to start crying again, th
e wee would stop. Then there would be a fresh spurt and the stream would continu
e. At last, it slowed, the little hole pulsed to expel a last dribble and my nak
ed mother lay still, with me still holding her open.
All finished?
Yes I'm so embarrassed. How could you do that to me?. , she sobbed and tried to get
up. I held her firmly in place.
Good girl, but you can t get up yet. Daddy will have to wipe you clean and then the
re s this bottom hole to see to. I don t know where the Daddy bit came from. I was st
ill making it up as I went along. It seemed that I could make her do anything. W
hat I wanted was to take her back to being a little girl with someone to look af
ter her and then gradually lead her step by step from being treated like a five
year old back up to being an adult. As I allowed her to mature, I hoped that I w
ould teach her responsibility and make her plan her life instead of just going w
ith the flow. In later life, I discovered that psychiatrists often used this tec
hnique with patients and called it regressive therapy, but I was not to know tha
t then. As I say, I was just making it up as I went along.
I filled the wash basin with warm water, taking my time. The view was, after all
, spectacular. When the sink was full, I took the soap and began to rub it betwe
en her legs, from the edges of her bottom hole through the slipperiness of her l
ips up to the hard little button at the top.When it was soapy, I put the soap do
wn and continued with my fingers I suppose that to get it clean would have taken
two or three passes over her most intimate parts. I was up to about twenty when
I noticed her rocking back and forth to meet my fingers.
Mother, what are you doing?
Don t stop! Please don t stop!
Of course, I stopped immediately.
Sit up Mother. We need to talk.
Oh no! Please keep doing what you were doing.
Hanging up over the bath was a long handled brush that we used to scrub our back
s. I lifted it off its hook and brought it down on her bottom. It was like she d b
een shot. She seemed to lift her whole body vertically off my lap before slumpin
g down again. I put my arm across her back and smacked the brush down three more
times. The effects were spectacular. Her bottom was already a dark pink, but no
w the four imprints of the brush were scarlet. Before she had sobbed, pleaded an
d cried. Now, she screamed and just collapsed, going completely limp.
I told you to sit up. You ve been a very bad girl and unless you want to give up si
tting down for ever, you are going to do what you re told.
I put my hand underneath her and rotated her body until she was sitting on my ri
ght knee. The fact that I had used her breast to pull her up, was a pure acciden
t. Honestly, it was. However, since she didn t seem to mind, I kept hold of it as
I cuddled her in to me.

She was still sobbing and snivelling, so I picked up the face cloth from the sin
k and gently washed her face, clearing away the tears and other muck off her fac
e. I cuddled and caressed her naked body until she calmed down.
Now Mother. Explain what you were doing, while I was washing between your legs.
Silence! "Do you want more of the brush?"
"NO!" she shrieked.
"Then tell me"
I was rubbing against your fingers.
Why?
It felt good.
Do you mean sexy?
She buried her head in my shoulder and refused to speak until I twisted her nipp
le.
Yes! , she screamed
I stopped twisting and gently rubbed her sore nipple as I talked to her.
What I m trying to do here is show you how shameful and humiliating it is when you
get drunk and you don t know what you re doing. Now you do what is happening to you,
aren t you ashamed?
Yes.
But you still find it sexy?
I don t know what to think. I m so confused. I m you mother and you ve got me naked doing
all sorts of things to me and my body is reacting.
I think we d better finish up here and get you settled down before we look at how t
hings are going to be from now on. Back you go. I put my hand on her back and pus
hed her back into her original position.
Please don t smack me any more.
Mother, I smacked you to begin with because of last night. The rest were because
you won t do what you re told.
I m sorry. I ll try
My fingers went back to where they had been before , but I only left them there
long enough to finish cleaning her. Then, I moved them up until I had one restin
g on her bottom hole. She whimpered as I pressed a soapy finger against it.
Relax, Mother. It s going in no matter what you do. Of course, I can take the brush
to your bottom again until you re begging me to put my finger in.
No, please. Don t smack me. My bottom s so sore.
She relaxed and my finger started to slide in, then she tensed up again, but a w

arning tap on her bottom and it slid right inside. I slid it in and out a few mo
re times, before I figured I d done enough to establish my right to be in there. I
sat her up and, taking a towel, I dried her thoroughly, especially between her
legs. She was biting her lips as I did that, but managed to stay still.
Good girl , I said as I picked her up and carried her into her room. I pulled back
the covers and laid her down. I pulled the covers up to her chin and gave her a
kiss on the forehead.
Now Mother, keep your arms outside the covers and have a little rest No rubbing y
ourself. I ll keep looking in to check on you and if you re a good girl, I ll rub some
cream on your sore bottom. If you re not a good girl and I find you with your han
d inside, . Well your hairbrush looks very useful.
I went back to the bathroom and this chapter ends exactly where the last one did
.
If this was at the bottom (good word for this group), it would be a footnote. Si
nce it is at the top, it must be a headnote, although I think I just invented a
new word.
Sadly, I ve become bored with the story, because I want to write about my PE lectu
rer when I went to college and about my housemaster s wife when I was at boarding
school. I also want to explore a relationship between a female houseparent and a
16 year old pupil that existed when I worked in a boarding school.
However, since some people have been kind enough to say that they liked My Mother
, My Child and there is a lot more mileage in it, I will try to maintain interest
for at least one more chapter.
End of headnote
Chapter 4
When I had finished in the bathroom after no more than 5 or 10 minutes and clean
ed up, I returned to her bedroom. She was lying on her front (I wonder why) with
her arms outside the bedclothes, like a good girl. I was amazed to see that she
was asleep. I lay on the covers next to her and put my arm around her. She snug
gled into me. She was smiling. I had expected to take the situation to the next
level, but she looked so content and, if I was honest, I was quite tired myself.
Therefore, I snuggled closer to her, closed my eyes and before I knew it, I was
asleep myself. Well, I had had a hard night and a difficult morning. I was goin
g to say a hard morning, but I knew you would read more into that than I intende
d.
When I awoke, I was aware of a smiling face only inches away from me. Before I c
ould get my thoughts together, she asked, What are we going to do?
I couldn t even remember what day it was and so took my time before answering. Eve
ntually I said, We are going to sort our lives out. First, it s going to be money a
nd then we will branch out into every aspect of how we run our lives. I m sick of
lurching from one lot of benefits to another and not knowing if we will have any
food or if the electricity will be cut off because you haven t bothered to pay th
e bills. But mostly, I m sick of your attitude that if you don t do anything, everyt
hing will work itself out. I m sick of being the scruffy weirdo at school and the
kid with a drunken slag for a mother.
The smile was gone. There were a few tears forming in her eyes.

I m sorry. , she whispered.


Don t be sorry, Mother. I m going to take charge. You are going to do what you re told
and, if you don t, your bottom is going to suffer. Things are going to be very dif
ferent here.
Right! Time to get started. Is your bottom sore?
She nodded.
OK. Let s get that sorted first, because I want you fully focussed on sorting the b
ills and how we are going to pay them.
I stood up and pulled the covers off her. Once more I had her magnificent naked
body in front of me and there was an instant reaction in the trouser department.
It was hard (stop it!) but I needed to concentrate and so I told her to lie st
ill with her bottom sticking up. I went to my room to bring some ointment that I
had for stiff muscles, when I played football. It stung like crazy, but eased a
way all the tension in the muscles
eventually. I wasn t really sure what effect it
would have on a smacked bottom, but, since I didn t have any other ideas, it was
worth a try. I also stopped off in the bathroom for some Vaseline. It was import
ant that I reinforced my domination over her and a drop of Vaseline in the right
place would ease the way. I smeared some ointment onto each cheek and began to
rub it in. Even as I was doing it, I marvelled at how I had never seen her botto
m 24 hours ago and now I had completely free access to it.
Oh, that stings!
I know but hang in there. When the sting goes, it will feel all warm and tingly a
nd take the pain away.
I didn t know if it worked like that on bottoms, but it did on my leg muscles and
the buttocks were just bigger muscles. To be honest, I worked at them for a lot
longer than was needed (I loved her bottom) and soon she was squirming and her l
egs were opening, inviting access to her more sensitive parts. I was kind to her
. If I had pushed my fingers in between her legs, she would have been in agony.
I know, because once I had rubbed my dick after rubbing my legs and I have never
felt such pain. I spent half an hour in the shower trying to wash it off, but i
t had got under the skin and it took ages to get any relief. Still, if she was u
ncooperative at any time, it was another weapon to control her by. For now, I ha
d other things on my mind, so I left her on the bed with her bottom glowing and
glistening, while I went back to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands in the hotte
st water I could bear.
With clean hands, I returned to the bedroom, to find her lying peacefully.
Feeling any better?
Mmmm.
Ok. Lie still, I want to talk to you.
I smeared a blob of Vaseline between the cheeks of her bottom and slowly inserte
d my thumb, then I pushed my two middle fingers into her vagina until I could fe
el my thumb through the thin membrane that separated the two passages. I remembe
r thinking that this was exactly the grip that you used for a ten pin bowling ba
ll. It was effective for that and it was effective for my mother. I was able to
control her squirming and show her that I could do anything I liked to her. I ne
eded her to begin to act more like an adult and the only way that I could think
of to do that was to take away all of her responsibilities and show her how to d

o it. Of course, I didn t have the experience or the knowledge, but I had some ide
as about where to start. With the rest, I would need help, but I had some ideas
about that as well.
We re going downstairs now. You re going to do exactly as you are told. First, you wi
ll find every bank statement, credit card bill, and other sort of bill. Come on.
Up you get.
Can I put some clothes on?
Your dressing gown s downstairs. You can put that on when we get there.
With my fingers still in her two orifices, I got her off the bed and by grasping
her pubes again, I steered her out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the
living room.
Right! Dressing gown on and then find every piece of paperwork that has anything
to do with our finances. I ll make some lunch and there s no need to fasten that dre
ssing gown. I expect I ll need access to that bottom when I find out what a mess y
ou ve got us into.
Please don t smack me any more. I ll be good.
It s not what you are going to be that concerns me at the moment but what you have
been. We never have any money and I want to know why. Now get on with it.
I flicked the back of her gown up and swatted her cheeks a couple of times as sh
e scurried off to the bureau where she stuffed the bills. It should read- Filed t
he bills
but, her methods could never be called filing. A bill came in the post a
nd got stuffed into a drawer. Occasionally, she opened it and sometimes even did
something about it. Most of the time, she thought that if she did nothing, it w
ould go away. Bills have a habit of not doing that.
I went into the kitchen to start on some sandwiches and to reflect on what was h
appening to me. I had totally changed my personality from someone who just accep
ted what was going on, to someone who was determined to make things a lot better
. I was sure that there was a lot of room to improve our financial situation and
I knew that that our social standing could only go up as it was at rock bottom.
Was I tough enough? I loved that crazy woman. Could I keep up the stern parent
approach long enough to sort this out? Then, I thought of her bottom and the res
t of her naked body and all my doubts disappeared. She seemed to accept my right
s to discipline her as I pleased. That was all I needed. I would continue for th
e time being and see what happened.
When the simple lunch was ready, I called her into the kitchen with as much as s
he had found. I sat her next to me with her lunch and the paperwork in front of
her. I slid a hand into her dressing gown, over her stomach and up, to cup one o
f her beautiful little breasts. There was no objection.
Ok. Let s start on the credit cards.
Lunch didn t take long to eat, but by the time we were finished, I had put the bil
ls in chronological order and was beginning to see where the problem was. I was
sliding my hand between her breasts and her wide open legs.
Mum, why are you letting me touch you like this?
She was blushing as she tried to answer the question.
I don t know. I think because you re making me do it and I know I can t stop you. You ve

taken charge and I have to do what I m told.


Someone had to take charge. Look at these bills. You ve reached your limit on three
different cards. Half the time you pay nothing off them and the rest you pay th
e minimum plus the fines. The total never goes down. Often it goes up. The money
that could be spent on food or new clothes goes to paying these rich people fat
salaries.
I m sorry. I ll do better in future.
Too late. I m in charge now. I ll get some proper advice and sort it out. Now, get yo
ur dressing gown off, get me a wooden spoon and get over my knee.
No! You can t spank me any more. I m too sore. I ll .
I ripped the dressing gown off her and smacked her bare bottom as hard as I coul
d for a full minute.
Get the spoon now. Right over my knee and get those legs spread as wide as you ca
n get them. I want to be able to see every inch of this naughty little body
espe
cially these bits.
I jammed my fingers back into her two holes while she howled in protest.
From now on, every week, you re going to get one spank for every pound that you owe
.
But we owe thousands.
Wrong, Mother. You owe thousands, so you d better hope that I can find some way of
paying it off or your bottom won t survive. You re getting the first fifty now and t
he next fifty when I think your bottom can take them.
I raised the spoon.

Well I suppose I better start with a little background to myself so here goes. M
y name is Bethany Evans, I am 27 yeas old and recently moved back to my parents
after the typical break up of a relationship. I have always seemed to have an in
terest is what could be described as Spanking and although experimented with sever
al boyfriends never really found what exactly I was looking for.
Chris was actually my Step Dad not my real dad and had been to married to Mum f
or about 8 years. I hadn t actually lived with him before having leaving home to g
o to university when I was 18. Once back home Mum began to treat me much the sam

e as she did before I left and found myself getting constant lectures about my b
ehaviour as if I were some naughty child again. This actually fitted in quite ni
cely with my Hobby if you can call it that. Which was to walk around in front of C
hris in various states of undress in order to get a little thrill of having him
pretend not to look but also wind my Mum up when he did.
As a sort of joke I came across a novelty wooden paddle with the word Brat on it a
nd thought it would be funny to give it Mum and Chris as a present for Christmas
. Anyway not much was said when they opened it just the disapproving stare from
my Mum as Chris tried not to look too interested in it. I thought it would be am
using to hang it in the kitchen and told mum that was what it was for , just lik
e some kind of ornament type thing.
I had arranged to go to a New Year s Eve party with my best friend Lisa. While I w
as in a particularly bratty, sulky mood about having the usual nothing to wear tan
trum, Chris offered to take me shopping and buy me a new dress if it would shut
me up for the rest of the day. Of course I took up his offer and ended up gettin
g a wonderful midnight blue retro 50 s style dress. It was a flared A line type sk
irt part with a tight fitting top with wide shoulder straps and had little spar
kly silver speckles woven into the material. It was the best dress I had ever ha
d.
I spent all afternoon getting ready and even decided to go with the whole 50 s the
me and wear some white ankle socks instead of tights and some plain black shoes.
I glanced in the mirror and had to giggle to myself as I looked more like an ov
er gown 10 year old going to a birthday party or something. I was so looking for
ward to the party and all the cute guys queuing up for New Year kisses it was go
ing to Brilliant. Then Lisa rang and informed me she had come down suddenly with
the flu and wasn t going to be able to make it.
Now I was in a mood alright and had no option but to stay at home with my parents
on New Year s Eve as if I actually was 10 again. They had arranged for a few of th
e neighbours to come around, mainly a selection of older people and a few couple
s with smaller children. Obviously I was looked totally out of place and was hat
ing every second of it and was just about to go and hide in my room and celebrat
e the worst New Year ever when I saw that someone had brought a bottle of Tequil
a.
I thought oh to hell with it and found a quiet corner of the kitchen and got a s
mall shot glass, some salt and a couple of limes. At least if I got drunk quickl
y I could go to sleep quicker and forget about the woeful evening. I took 2 or 3
right after one another then noticed a girl standing next to me. She looked aro
und 15, wearing jeans and nice top and she asked me what I was doing. I told her
briefly and she complained that she wasn t enjoying herself either as she was old
er than the other little kids who were here but obviously not a grown up either
so had no one to talk to.
Her name was Annabelle and she was the niece of my Mum s best friend Maureen. She
was staying over at her Aunt s while her parents were out partying. She asked me a
bout the salt and the lime and of course asked what does tequila taste like. Wha
t the hell I thought , it s a party isn t it so told her to lick the back of her han
d and sprinkled some salt on for her. I filled the shot glass told her to taste
the salt drink the Tequila down in one go then push the slice of lime in her mou
th. She screwed her face up with the salt then after a second or so delay opened
her eyes wide and went bright red as she gasped as the Tequila hit the back of
her throat then she quickly pushed the lime in her mouth trying to stop her mout
h burning.
I laughed as she said it was horrible and stuck her tongue out and made all kind
s of funny faces. Just them her Aunt Maureen appeared over her shoulder. She loo

ked at me and worked out what was going on and didn t look too happy.
What the hell are you doing Bethany, do you know Annabelle is only 13
at me.

she snapped

Then she spun Annabelle round to face her, If you have one more drop of anything
that isn t water tonight young lady I ll spank you so hard you ll wish you were never
born
I couldn t help feel a tingle rush through me at her words and was instantly intri
gued by what I was hearing. Surely Maureen didn t actually spank Annabelle even at
13 that was way too old, beside the fact that Annabelle didn t even look 13 she l
ooked much older. I was fascinated and determined to find out more. I poured ano
ther shot of tequila and looked at her.
Come on ..I dare you I smiled and waited to see what she would do.
To my disappointment she glanced around nervously and shook her head saying she
had better not or she would be in for it . I took the shot myself and then began as
king her question about Maureen. I was trying to bring the subject up about span
king and showed her the paddle on the wall which made her giggle. Unfortunately
she wasn t really answering directly and I gave her another shot telling her I wou
ld look out while she took it. It was so much fun trying to hide what we were d
oing as people walked around seemingly unaware of our little game.
She
ell
ght
elf
her
and
s.

gulped it down pulling all sorts of faces again and giggled that she would t
me a secret about her Aunt Maureen if I promised not to tell. Oh good I thou
Mr tequila was doing his job and getting her to talk. I had another shot mys
and listened eagerly. Annabelle looked around then whispered in my ear that
Aunt Maureen was a Lemon . A Lemon around here is childish slang for a Lesbian
of course I was shocked as I would have never guessed Maureen was into girl

Although it was indeed a cool secret for Annabelle to have told me it wasn t reall
y what I wanted to know. I tied to get her to have more of Mr Tequila to loosen
her tongue further.
She was very reluctant saying she didn t even like it which resulted in me calling
her a baby and of not wanted to be grown up like me. She became a little angry at
my insult and all of a sudden asked why was I so interested in Aunty Maureen, w
as it because I was a Lemon too.
I was a little shocked by her outburst and for some reason thought it would be f
unny or should I say Mr Tequila thought it would be funny if I said to her that
for all she knew I might be a Lemon and did she have a problem with it. She seemed
a little surprised then smiled.
Oh I get it now

.so you fancy Aunty Maureen

she giggled

Instantly I tried to deny it saying I was only joking of course I wasn t


lemon and
I had loads of boyfriends in the past. Just go and ask my mum I told her and cou
ld feel myself getting annoyed at her assumption. She just smiled and said her A
unt had denied it for ages according to her Mum and most people like to keep thi
ngs like that a secret. Oh the little brat was really beginning to wind me up no
w. I had another shot to try and clam myself down.
Then Mr tequila began whispering in my ear that he had a plan to sort this mess
out. Unfortunately for me Mr tequila hadn t really thought this plan through prope
rly .He suggested to me that if I went and kissed Maureen she would know by the
kiss that I wasn t a Lemon as the kiss must obviously feel different to her. I took
yet another shot and thought right that was it so I marched right up to Maureen

who was standing in the lounge surrounded by half of out street. I put my hands
on her shoulders as she looked confused then without any warned leaning into her
and kissed her full on the lips. I could feel her kiss me back and I began to f
eel this was not quite going to plan.
Next thing I know was the fucking Lemon flavoured bitch had stuck her hand up my d
ress! I was still kissing her as Mr Tequila kept telling me to carry on as the p
lan needed more time. Her hand up my dress began to actually lift my dress highe
r at the back then to my horror I remembered I hadn t put any knickers on. The who
le room gasped as my bare bottom was on full view and I could her Annabelle gigg
ling and announcing that I had told her I fancied Maureen.
Maureen stopped kissing me and then gave me a couple of slight smacks to my bare
bottom, I think this naughty little girl needs to have a long chat with Aunty Ma
ureen doesn t she .
More laughter filled the room as suddenly my Mum dragged me away by my arm. Than
kfully my dress slipped back down to cover myself as Mum stood me in the middle
of the room. I couldn t think properly and began to realise I had drunk far more o
f Mr Tequila than is good for anyone. Mum then looked me up and down and exclaim
ed this certainly answered a lot of questions. It was obviously the reason I cou
ldn t keep hold of a boyfriend for more than five minutes. also why I didn t care th
at I paraded myself in front of Chris half dressed. The room laughed even louder
as she went on to say that was probably why I chose to let the only girl cat we
have sleep with me.
I felt Mr Tequila begin to move inside my stomach and realised he didn t want to b
e inside me anymore now his plan had failed so miserably. My cheeks bulged like
a hamster and the inevitable happened as everyone screwed their faces up in disg
ust I was sick all down the front of my dress. Mum reached forward to lift my dr
ess up to stop the sick going on the carpet hardly seeming to care that she was
once again displaying my knickerless state to the whole room.
Her and Maureen led me to the kitchen followed by Annabelle and proceeded to re
move my dress completely and push it in the washing machine. I tried to protest
that they couldn t just let me stand in only my bra, socks and shoes like some 2
year old only to be told it was no more than I deserved for showing myself up in
front of half the street. I began to sob and before I knew what was happening M
um had took the paddle of the wall and handed it to Annabelle.
Give the little baby something to cry about while I go and find her something to
wear she exclaimed as if this happened every day.
Maureen stood back and watched delightedly as Annabelle swung the paddle down sq
uare on my bare bottom. The loud crack made me squeal and several faces appeare
d in the door way to see what was going on. I should mention I shaved myself bal
d between my legs and must have looked just like a naughty little girl as I danc
ed around trying to put my hands over my bottom to stop the agonising swats Anna
belle was giving me. Oh God where was Mum with some clothes for me as I began to
plead with her that it hurt so much.
I began to stop putting my hands over my bottom only to press one hand between m
y legs and then dance around and squeeze my thighs together. Annabelle and Maure
en noticed what I was doing and began laughing. They looked at each other and Ma
ureen told Annabelle she better take me to the bathroom before it was too late.
She grabbed me firmly by the hand and despite my protests led me into the lounge
again. With several hard smacks with the paddle to my bare stinging bottom she
ushered me along past all the grinning faces.
I m just taking naughty baby Bethany for a wee wee

she announced to everyone amidst

the howls of laughter.


Mum was on top of the stairs with my Pyjamas in her hand and stood shaking her h
ead as Annabelle led me into the bathroom. She pushed me down on the toilet and
I cringed in shame as she hadn t even closed the door and all the children who had
been playing upstairs were stood watching me. She lifted my chin up to look at
my face.
Well not so grown up now are we I think we can see who the real baby is around here
she laughed as I let go of my bladder in front of the giggling kids.
I was beyond caring now that everyone had seen me as I was led downstairs to fac
e them all again. Annabelle pushed me into the corner making me lift my hands t
o my head and calmly told my Mum that she could get me ready for bed after I had
done my corner time. I could see my mum look up to protest but the look Annabel
le gave her made her stay quiet. The party seemed to resume with me standing qui
etly sobbing as one by one the children began to come up to me and feel my botto
m saying how hot it was and why had I been so naughty and all end of questions.
Even most of the adult managed to walk past me and give my bottom a feel and eve
n a few smacks as they thought it was the best New Year s Eve party they had even
been to.
Eventually I was brought in front of my Mum by Annabelle and with several more s
harp smacks to my bottom she told my Mum to get the naughty little girl ready fo
r bed. She reached around to unclip my bra and made me hold my feet up one at a
time to take my shoes and socks off. I was naked as the day I was born with a br
ight bottom in front of most of my neighbours who were standing amused at such a
display.
This is what happens to naughty little girls who think it is clever to get themse
lves so drunk they don t know what they are doing isn t it Bethany she hissed as she
put the pyjama jacket on me.
I found my self nodding in agreement with her and muttering that I was sorry as
once again my feet were lifted to step into the rest of my pyjamas. With a final
slap to my bottom she tugged them up tight to cover my nakedness.
Right go around give everyone a kiss goodnight and apologise to them all
d.

she smile

I walked around giving everyone a kiss on the cheek saying how sorry I was for b
eing such a naughty little girl and deep down had to laugh to myself that this w
as hardly the kind of kisses I was expecting this evening. The last person waiti
ng at the foot of the stairs was Annabelle who was grinning from ear to ear.
Shall I ask your Mum if I can come over and baby sit you again sometime
d

she giggle

With my face as red as it has ever been in my entire life I kissed her on the ch
eek and replied, Yes please
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OWWWWWW! STAAAAHHHHP! OWWWWW!
The screams went on and on, as did the sound spanks to the bared
upturned bottom which is presently and has been for some time, the
center of attention to the downscending smacks of the punisher's arm.
OHHHHH GAAAAWWWD, I CAN'T TAKE IT! PLEEEEEEEZE! OWWWWWWW!
The twenty-three-year-old female college student wailed like a child,
yet the spanks kept coming!
Nearby, two teen boys and a young girl of eight sat and watched
television, seemingly unimpressed with the scene going on painfully
behind them.
What a scene it was! The tall, slender brunette college woman lay halfnude and draped across the knees of the diminutive sixteen -year-old!
The near six-foot tall colegiate volleyball player's behind was
already a very dark shade of scarlet which stood in bright contrast to
the white-white skin that surrounded the target of her punisher's
attention, namely her female sit-spots!
Suddenly, as if in answer to her prayers, the spanking stopped. Having
long ago ceased trying to escape, she sensed her chance and tried,
once again, to squirm and buck herself free of her punisher's grasp.
"Whoh! You're not even half-done here, young lady! I'm just amping up
the punishment a bit!"
Tawny looked back over her shoulder, and through her tears, saw her
punisher reach over and grab a nasty looking wooden hairbrush which
Tawny was certain she had never seen in her house before! At the
sight, a groan escaped Tawny's ever-opened mouth.
Before Tawny could disseminate the view or take advantage of the lull
in her painful chastisement, down came the new weapon, hard, across
Tawny's already near blistered bottom.
That first smack broke Tawny's resolve and her wails turned to the
endless sobbing of a well punished child. Nevertheless, the smacks
continued falling like an endless cascading summer rain.
The front door swung noisely open and an adult-looking woman strode
in, exclaiming as she did so, "Tawny, you're home from college
early!", only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of her own
daughter, her adult daughter, Tawny, now draped across the knees of
the family's new babysitter, getting what was obviously, the first and
worst spanking of her life!
"Tawny? Heather, what's going on?"
"Oh, hi, Mrs. G.! Just giving Tawny a little lesson in behavior!"
Tawny recognized her chance for salvation and through her choked-back

tears she shouted, "M-MOTHER, HELP ME!"


Tawny's mother looked bewildered and angry. She advanced on the scene
like a tigress defending her cub, only to suddenly stop short, as if
thinking the better of it, and querry, "What's this all about,
Heather?"
"Oh, Mrs. G., I'd rather we keep this between Tawny and I, but , let's
just say, I overheard a phone conversation that I believe earned her
this spanking!"
The woman looked puzzelled. If she was, Tawny was doubly puzzled. Why
wasn't her mother rushing in and tackling this little uberbrat?
The woman spoke softly, "Tawny? Is this true, did she overhear
something bad?"
Tawny sucked back more tears and snot and shouted in righteous
indignation, "She was listening to my PRIVATE conversation, the little
spy!"
"Did she hear something bad?'
Sniff! Sniff!"I don't care, mother! I am NOT a child! Make her stop!"
The woman stood upright and tall and softly remarked, "She is right,
Heather! Would you please just let her go!"
Heather let out a sad sigh and flatly resonded,"Mrs. G., Need I remind
you what happened the last time you disagreed with my decision, Mrs.
G.? Do you want a repeat of that conversation? As it is, I think you
are ALREADY going to have a very tough time sitting still for your
award dinner this evening, just for questioning me. Do you want to
attend the event standing all night?"
The woman quickly colored at the words. Her head dropped and she allbut whispered in response, "No, miss!"
"Good, then go get dinner ready for the kids so you'll still have time
for OUR little "Conversation" before you get ready for tonight! Now,
MARCH!" To herself, she muttered, "and if Mr. G. is late again, I
swear..."
The woman colored deeper at the words but hastily ran off in
obedience.
"Now, little miss, let's see if you ARE a child or not!"
As the smacks resumed and the wails of an obviously very contrite
child wafted out of the house to the streets and houses around, the
small eight year-old gild sat watching television as her older sister
got a very well-deserved and long overdue comeuppance. The young girl
turned to her older brothers and sighed aloud, "Good thing we don't
act like they do, huh? Sounds like she spanks hard!"
The boys nodded their heads in silent agreement as they sat absorbed
in another episode of "Phineus and Ferb"!
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I closed my eyes and blinked a few times, surely this must be a dream. I couldn'
t be standing with my little pajama shorts around my knees and my bare bottom fa
cing the street while Ben just nonchalantly played his X-box like I wasn't even
there. I knew that despite being stood almost in the middle of the large bay win
dow it would actually be difficult for someone to actually see me unless they wa
lked up our driveway.
Never the less I still felt like I was on display to the whole world and every s
o often Ben would turn and look me up and down almost shaking his head at the s
ight, probably disbelieving it as much as I was. In between waiting for a new pa
rt of his game to load he told me to keep my hands firmly on my head and not to
move a muscle or the whole hour would start yet again. I just wanted to cry as m
y arms were already aching and I kept trying to change the weight on my feet and
also not let my shorts fall down any further.
He stood up to go and get a drink and stopped in front of me. See Claire, you jus
t needed some more practice I m sure the time will soon be up then we can smack your
naughty bottom cant we he grinned
How on earth had I managed to agree to all this and how had Ben suddenly started
to act like it was the most natural thing in the world to treat me like some na
ughty six year old. I kept glancing up at the clock and when he wasn t looking mov
ed my arms slightly to ease the ache and couldn't believe how slowly the time se
emed to pass. At last the hour was up and I glanced over to see him deep in conc
entration playing his game.
I coughed nervously. Er Ben
er time

.please may I have the paddle now I have done my corn

He gave a little tut and ignored me for a few minutes then paused the game and t
urned to look at me. Come over here then Claire you little brat and bend over in
the middle of the room
His words shocked me and |I let my hands fall and shook them to get some feeling
back as they felt so numb. I walked slowly to the centre of the room and trying
to avoid his eyes did a few steps up and down to relieve the cramp in my legs f
or standing still for so long. He smiled as my little shorts slid down to my an
kles and without thinking I just stepped out of them. I lifted my knees up a few
more times and then explained why I was doing it.
He laughed, Oh I thought you were practicing to become some sort of show pony tro
tting up and down like that
I gasped at the image in my head of me parading around naked from the waist down
like I was indeed a Show Pony as he suggested. I hesitated then put my hands behi
nd my neck and lifting my knees up as high as I could I walked slowly right arou
nd the room.
Blushing like mad I could feel his eyes follow me around the room and he looked
almost mesmerized by blatant display. I stopped in front of him and found myself
letting a sort of half smile out as I said thank you for him allowing me to get
some feeling back into my legs before I bent right over and gripped my ankles t

ightly and pushed my bare bottom up high.


The cold feel of the wooden paddle made me breath in sharply as he tapped it aga
inst my cheeks a few times. Suddenly a flash shot through my head followed by a
loud splat sound then a intense sting and then a whimpering sort of squeal from
my lips. Before I had time to realise just how much it had hurt another loud Crac
k echoed around the room and it felt like a flame had been rubbed all over my bar
e backside.
Wow Claire it makes your arse wobble like mad
gloated.

he laughed and its crimson already

he

I took a few deep breaths before the next stinging swat exploded onto my blazing s
kin and held my ankles even tighter trying to resist the urge to stand up. I cou
ld feel my bottom tremble and as much as I tried not to I began to sob. I head a
giggle from Ben as he delivered another resounding Crack to my bare bum.
Oh is the naughty little girl crying because she is having her bottom smacked
ould hardly contain his amusement as he unleashed yet another whack

he c

I couldn t remain still any longer but still holding my ankles I managed a little
hop from one foot to the other just to try and shake away some of the sting from
my burning bottom. I bent my knees slightly feeling my bum push out even more a
nd as I did so the next excruciating Smack of the horrid paddle shot even more fla
mes through me. By now I was sobbing openly and didn t care how much of a spectacl
e I was making of myself I just wanted it to end.
Oh God, please Ben that s enough

I've had my six please no more I pleaded with him.

I was still holding my ankles but bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet maki
ng my bum cheeks jiggle as I did so. I held my breath as he rubbed the paddle on
my stinging cheeks. I let out a louder sob of dismay as he calmly told me that
he hadn t been counting and I should have called out the number, so maybe we ought
to start again and do it properly this time.
I shook my head in protest and dropped to
sly rub the scolding heat on my bottom. I
it hurt so much and promised that I would
gh as I acknowledged this wasn't going to
minutes while he walked around me tapping
eld it in front of my face.
Kiss it young lady and say thank you

my knees, reaching behind me to furiou


begged him not to give me any more as
count next time. He gave a stifled lau
be a one off. He let me rub for a few
the paddle against his hand. Then he h

he smiled.

I looked up incredulously at his demand as he told me had read that part in the
magazine and that gratitude should be showed. After all he was missing valuable
gaming time having to deal with a clumsy little brat like me who had broke his t
elevision. All I could think about still was the burning heat on my bottom cheek
s and dare not refuse so I leaned forward and kissed the wooden paddle.
I looked up slowly to see him smiling in satisfaction and muttered a meek
ou Ben

thank y

He ruffled my hair like you would with a child and beamed a huge grin and told m
e it was a pleasure before telling to me stand up and stop rubbing. I struggled
to my feet and was ordered to go and bring him a drink. As I turned to walk to t
he kitchen he sniggered and exclaimed that perhaps I ought to walk like I had be
fore with my knees up high. I couldn t believe what was coming over me as I almost
eagerly thrust my hands behind my neck and marched into the kitchen.

I opened the fridge and took out the ice cold can of Pepsi. The temptation to ru
n it over my hot bum cheeks was too much and I gasped in relief and stood for a
minute or two doing just that. The cold made me gasp but felt so soothing and I
would have staying doing it but for a curt request from Ben to get my Fat arse
ck right now with his drink. I held the can in my hands behind my beck and once
again marched with my knees up high into the lounge to face him.

ba

He look at me suspiciously and I knew I was blushing as he asked me what took me


so long. I shook my head and said nothing but knowing full well he didn t believe
me. I shivered as he told me that he wouldn t ask me again and if I lied to him I
would get 10 with the paddle right here and now. I fidgeted and mumbled that I
was only rubbing my bottom a little. He paused and shook his head.
Didn t I tell you not to do that anymore young lady

he seemed genuinely angry

Quickly I said how sorry I was and explained that the can was so cold and my bot
tom was so hot and I only wanted to ease the pain for a few seconds and I was so
sorry. He pursed his lips and grabbed the can out of my hands as I promised I w
ould never do it again. He stood up making me tremble in fear and pushed me down
with my shoulders until I was kneeling in front of him, he popped open the ring
pull on the Pepsi. Slowly he held it up above my head.
You don t think I am going to drink this knowing it has been all over your fat arse
do you he spat.
I shook my head as he poured it over me slowly soaking my hair and then running
down my face on to my pyjama top. He continued until the can was empty then bala
nced it on my head as I tried not to tremble and stay still. He went to the kitc
hen and got himself another can and sat on the sofa in front of me. I could see
him looking at me and trying to still look firm even though I sensed he was abou
t to burst out laughing any moment.
So Claire have we established who is in charge for the next six weeks until Dad g
ets back he grinned.
I was just about to nod my head when I remembered the can was still upright on t
op and exclaimed that yes I indeed I understood our positions now. With a curt Go
od girl he told me to get myself in the shower and then bring down everything nee
ded to remove my grown up bush between my legs as I was going to look every inch
the little girl I now was. Despite the shame running through me I couldn t wait a
nd got to my feet carefully without letting the can fall and went upstairs as I
heard the unmistakable sound of more gun fire and Zombie shouts emit from the ro
om.
I stood in the shower letting the warm water run all over me thinking that this
still must be some kind of dream as things like this didn t happen in real life. I
gasped as my hands ran over my bum cheeks reminding me that this was indeed ver
y real and young Ben has certainly proved very capable of dealing with his naugh
ty Step Mum. I washed the sticky Pepsi out of my hair and hoped none had run dow
n on the carpet the slowly dried myself. I gathered up my razor and some small s
cissors and some lotion and some moisturizer.
I wrapped a big fluffy white towel around myself and walked downstairs with ever
ything in my hand. He was still engrossed in his game and I was still feeling nu
mb at why I was doing all this so willingly, in fact more than willingly I was l
oving every second of it. He looked around briefly and told me to lay the towel
on the floor and wait a few minutes till he had finished. I spread the towel out
like I would do at the beach and felt so daring and naughty to be stark naked i
n such bizarre circumstances.

I placed all the things on the small coffee table and wondered whether to lay do
wn on the towel but decided instead to walk back to the window. I stood facing i
t and gazed outside and lifted my hands once again to the back of my neck and fe
lt so proud to be like this. I saw several cares drive past and each time gave a
little shudder imagining that they could actually see me and know what was happ
ening to me. Ben turned around and giggled at my display.
Looks like we will have to put something on the carpet Claire to stop you wearing
it out as it seems you like standing there don t you he grinned
I was hardly listening to him and dint notice he had got to his feet and was beh
ind me. Then I heard the unmistakable Click of the camera shutter on his phone. It
was like being hit with something as a dull thudding feeling spread through my
body at the thought of him taking a picture of me like this. I wanted to turn an
d grab the phone from his hands and scream that he had no right but all I did wa
s let out a feeble whine and beg him not show it anyone.
Turn around then Claire, lets get a front view as well shall we he had a slight hi
nt of amusement in his voice almost knowing I wasn t going to refuse.
I shuffled around and stared down at the floor hoping beyond hope that no one wo
uld recognise me but my wet hair did nothing to hide my face. He held his phone
up and stepped back a little laughing that it looked even better with me in the
window.
Chin up Claire, there s a good girl
new face book pic if you like

he mocked

and a nice smile .we could make this your

My eyes opened wide in outrage at his suggestion just as he clicked and a huge gri
n spread across his face. He took several more from different angles and even ha
d me open my legs wide which I did without question. He exclaimed that they were
the before pictures of my fanny and to lay down on the towel ready for my shave
then he would take some after pictures. I was beyond refusing anything now and
laid flat on my back and eased my legs as wide apart as I could.
He knelt between my legs moving them further out of the way and picked up the
scissors. He looked curiously but also had a look of concentration on his face a
s he began to snip away at my brown curls. I found myself pushing my hips up alm
ost off the floor so he could continue down to the base and past my labia and a
lmost down to the cleft of my bum.
That s a good girl

he smiled

We will be doing this often wont we young lady

I could only close my eyes and nod feeling the cold steel of the scissors run be
tween my legs and around my pubic bulge. I shivered as he ran his fingers throug
h the remaining stubble to flick away all the loose hairs. I told him to use a l
ittle of the gel lotion first before the razor and gasped at the cold as he sque
ezed some out on to me. Slowly he scrapped the razor along my sensitive skin. He
repeated it several times until he was satisfied that there wasn t a single hair
left.
Up on your knees baby Claire he laughed
from between your bum cheeks don t we

we need to get those few nasty little hairs

I felt mortified to be exposed like this to him but knelt with my bottom in the
air as he eased my cheeks apart to run the razor right down the length of my bum
crack. With a crisp slap to my cheeks he pronounced that I was all done and a bar
e as a baby. He threw me the moisturizer and told me to hurry up then get into p
osition to pose for some more pictures.

Soon I was standing hands behind my neck and legs apart for him to gloat as he cl
icked away again. I glanced down to see my pink mound bald as a pool ball. He loo
ked at the photo s on his phone for a while saying how good he thought they were b
efore looking up at the clock.
Right bedtime for naughty little girls he giggled and with two stinging smacks to
my bottom I was sent to my room even though it was barely 7pm.
Running into the Prefect
The position should have felt surreal for Wendy Carpenter. In her mid thirt
ies, she shouldn't even remember what it felt like to be across someone's knee,
being prepared for a spanking at school. Even if not for her own age, being a t
eacher should have exempted her from such childish correction, most of all from
a prefect. Despite all of the strange circumstances, it had all become quite no
rmal, if a bit challenging to the pride and rear end.
"A good five minute spanking ought to teach you some manners. What do you t
hink, Wendy?" asked Prefect Allison Meyers.
"Yes, Miss," Wendy replied. She had lifted her tight skirt up to her waist
before bending across the teen's lap. Allison pushed Wendy's hose and panties d
own to her knees. "Bare bottom, Miss? Is that necessary?"
Allison applied a dozen swats to Wendy's legs that had her dancing in second
s. "Any more questions?"
"No, Miss. Sorry, Miss."
Wendy shifted her legs, feeling the sting. Good thing she had worn a longer
skirt. She felt Allison's hand cup her bottom and took the signal to relax in
acceptance. It all came with an ease that she supposed was the only part of it
all that she found strange. She'd gotten used to being turned over and spanked,
but she still marveled at how a seventeen year old prefect had become her best
friend and mentor at the school.
*
Their first encounter had set the tone for their relationship. Wendy crashe
d head first into the prefect in a way that sent them both to the ground, heads
ringing. It was Wendy's first day at the school and she found herself looking f
or her glasses after running into the teen. Allison had recovered first and off
ered to help the older woman up.
"In
and was
o trace
e short

a hurry?" the prefect asked. Wendy put her glasses


struck by the sight of the girl. Despite the fall,
of disturbance with a tight collar, prefect's badge
wooden paddle hanging at her waist. Allison pulled

on before answering
her clothes showed n
and most notably, th
Wendy to her feet.

"Yes, it's my first day and it took me some time to find a parking space," W
endy replied. "I know the doors close soon."
"Well I'll be sure to let you in shortly, but first turn around," Allison re
plied.
The request puzzled Wendy but she did as asked. Perhaps there was some dirt
on her from the fall. She felt an arm snake around her waist and bend her over
. Before she had a chance to ask what was happening, the paddle had popped the

backside of her thin dress twice. It landed four more times before Wendy straig
htened from the girl's grip and backed away, holding her backside protectively.
"What are you doing?" Wendy exclaimed.
"You ran into a prefect, surely you expected some swats," Allison answered.
"I'm a teacher!"
"Oh." Then Allison began to laugh. "Oh! Well you should have said so."
Wendy rubbed her bottom but started to see the humor in it. "Couldn't you t
ell that I wasn't a student?"
"Sorry, Miss, but you said it was your first day. I just assumed you hadn't
gotten your uniform yet. New students have a grace period of a week to get fit
ted and uniformed properly."
"I see. Well I'll take that as a compliment. That really stung!"
"We prefects get lots of practice. What's your name?" Allison asked.
"Wendy Carpenter. I'll be teaching English and Theater."
Allison put the paddle back onto the loop attached to the waist of her skirt
and pulled out a pad from her pocket. She began writing on it. "Congratulatio
ns. Our theater program is of some repute. Are you an actress or musician?"
"Writing and singing," Wendy replied. "Some piano, but not enough to teach
here."
Allison nodded. She finished writing and handed the slip to Wendy. "Just t
ake that to the head when you see her. Come and I'll let you in one of the side
doors." Wendy followed along and started reading the slip.
"Wait, what's this?" she asked.
"That is a write up, Miss Carpenter. The head likes for teachers to be acco
untable for the rules. Obviously she won't paddle you, but she finds ways to ma
ke an example."
"Ways?" Wendy asked. "What ways?"
"It seems worse than a paddling, honestly. You might have to make a public
apology at assembly. She'll likely bring it up randomly in front of students.
'I see you've made it on time, Miss Carpenter' and that sort of thing."
Wendy was mortified. "Wait, can't you just not write me up?"
"Oh no, Miss. Prefects work on an honor system. If we let some get away wi
th it, the whole concept of fairness is out of the window."
"But I didn't get away with it," Mary replied. "You well you did paddle me fo
r it."
"Actually, I paddled you for running. You'll notice that I only wrote you u
p for lateness and running into a prefect."
Wendy looked at the slip. "It still feels like I'm being punished twice."

"I can finish your spanking for you. According to the honor system, then th
ere'd be no need to report," Allison answered.
"How much do I have left?" Wendy asked. She massaged her buttocks again, th
inking about the sting of the paddle. Allison thought she looked positively ado
rable.
"Six for each remaining infraction. Come inside," Allison opened
nd led Wendy to a secluded stairwell. "Hand me the write up." Wendy
lison tore it in half before putting it in her pocket. Then she bent
woman over at the waist and tucked her under one arm, leaving Wendy's
e floor and seat of her dress pointed upward.

the door a
did and Al
the older
head at th

"Wait. Ow!" Wendy cried. The first swat of her impending dozen had struck d
own before she expected it.
"Hush, Carpenter. Resisting your punishment and I'll have to give you penal
ty swats." Allison resumed the spanking, hitting Wendy's backside with flat par
t of the paddle. Wendy hissed but managed to keep mostly quiet.
"The last six will be over the underwear," Allison noted casually. Wendy ha
dn't even processed the words when she felt her dress whisked up onto her back,
revealing a white lace pair of boy shorts. The panties covered her hips, but le
ft much of the target area exposed and Allison applied the last half dozen with
vigor. Wendy danced in place but held her position otherwise. She yelped as th
e paddle stung her, despite trying to be as quiet as possible. She sank to her
knees when Allison let her go.
"Ooh, that was awful!" Wendy rubbed the anguished skin furiously before let
ting her dress down.
"It wasn't so bad, Miss. You just have a 'virgin bottom' as the girls say.
You toughen up a bit after a few whackings."
"Did you have to raise my dress for the last six?"
"Actually, yes. First dozen over clothes, second dozen with the skirt up is
standard," Allison told her.
"What happens if someone earns a third dozen?"
"Then we prefects are authorized to spank to our discretion or refer you to
the Headmistress for a dose of the real paddle."
"Yikes. After just a dozen and a half, I think I've had my fill."
"All the new girls say that, Miss Carpenter," Allison replied. Wendy blushe
d and searched for a response, but Allison added: "Would you like me to show you
where you need to go?"
"Um, yes, I need to find Mrs. Wilkins to give me the tour. Do you know wher
e she is?"
"Follow me, but you might want to stop rubbing your backside. People might
get curious," Allison suggested. Wendy snatched her hands from her bottom and f
orced them to remain still at her sides. They weren't helping with the sting an
yway.
*

"Late again, Miss?" Allison caught the teacher outside once again after the
doors had closed.
"My first class isn't until second period," Wendy explained.
"Yes, but all faculty are required to be inside before first period. Any ex
cuse that will prevent a write up?"
"No, but can you let me in through the side doors? They'll report me if I g
o in through the front."
"Of course, Miss Carpenter, follow me," Allison replied. Wendy breathed a s
igh of relief and followed along. "So how's your first week been so far?
"I got off to a rocky start, but everyone's been nice. I imagine it would h
ave been more rocky had I gotten on the Headmistress's bad side. I've seen her
dress someone down and it isn't pretty."
"Keeping the headmistress happy wins half the war in this school." Allison
guided them into the stairwell.
"What's the other half?" Wendy asked.
"Homework, dress code and keeping the prefects happy," Allison replied with
a wink.
"I'll bet."
"Should I write you up, Miss Carpenter?"
Wendy took a deep breath and bent over. "That won't be necessary."
Allison tucked the woman under her arm just as she had a few days before. "
You know, it is customary to address prefects as 'Miss' when one is punished."
Allison tugged Wendy's skirt up over her back, revealing a full pair of white pa
nties encased in pantyhose.
"With my skirt up? I thought it'd be six over the skirt," Mary asked before
adding, "Miss."
"Second offense. A dozen over your panties. Brace yourself, Wendy."
Wendy squeezed her eyes shut and gasped as the paddle popped her hard on the
backside. Allison spanked the teacher with slow firm swats until she paid her
out with the full dozen. Wendy was moist eyed and red faced when she stood up t
o lower her skirt. The whole affair only took a minute, but she found the sting
to be quite keen.
"Yikes. I think next time I'll take the write up," Wendy said.
"Suit yourself, Miss Carpenter," Allison replied while putting the paddle ba
ck in place. She hoped the woman reconsidered. She rather enjoyed spanking one
of the teachers. "It's much easier to soothe a stinging bottom than to get bac
k on head's good side once you've run afoul of her."
"Hmph. Either way I'll be drinking my coffee standing this morning," Wendy
replied. "See you around, Allison."

*
"Miss, what are you thinking?" Allison asked as she saw the teacher about to
enter the building. A couple of weeks had passed since Wendy's first week at t
he school. Allison still helped her around, but hadn't found any cause to repri
mand the teacher since then.
"What is it? I'm on time and up to code," Wendy replied as she walked over
to the prefect.
"You are most certainly not up to code. Where are your hose?"
"Pantyhose are required? I see girls without any hose on all the time."
"Yes, that is for the younger girls. Everyone over eighteen has to wear pan
tyshose or--ugh--tights. The Head is even stricter about this with teachers," A
llison told her.
Wendy felt panic threaten to overtake her. She'd seen the Headmistress bera
te a student for a skirt that fell several inches short of regulation. Just see
ing it made Wendy's stomach churn. "What do I do? If I go to the store I'll be
late."
"I've got you covered. Come with me to my locker. I keep a spare just in c
ase."
Wendy breathed a sigh of relief and went along. After retrieving the hose,
Allison let them into an empty classroom and pulled the shade over the small win
dow on the classroom door. "You can slip into these after your punishment," All
ison told the teacher. "Hands on the desk. Skirt up, bottom out."
Wendy rolled her eyes but replied, "Yes, Miss." Her skirt was fairly tight,
so she zipped it down in the back and let it fall to her ankles before stepping
out of it and assuming the position. Legs spread and silk panties taut, Wendy
arched her back and presented her bottom to the prefect. Allison spanked Wendy'
s bottom twelve times with the paddle, leaving some red peeking out from her und
erwear. Wendy danced in place a bit before taking the hose and slipping them on
.
"Remember, young lady," Allison told her, "another dress code violation this
week and I'll have to give you a proper spanking."
Wendy was still fixing her skirt. She turned her back so Allison could zip
her up. "I can assure you, there will be no need for that. I'm going to reread
the rulebook to the letter."
That didn't turn out to be true. Wendy's luck went south just two days late
r when she discovered a mean run in her hose. The ladder was obvious and imposs
ible to hide. Having ruined pantyhose would anger the Head just as much as havi
ng none at all, so Wendy sought out her favorite prefect.
Allison let out a low whistle when she saw. "I still haven't replaced my sp
are pair." Wendy looked anxious for a moment so the teen continued, "Oh don't w
orry. You can have the ones I'm wearing. I'm only 17, so I don't need to wear
them. It's just generally expected that prefects will go the extra mile when it
comes to code. I can get away with it for a day."

"You are a lifesaver, Allison," Wendy replied.


"You might not be so thankful in a few moments," Allison arched a brow and l
ooked at the older woman's rear.
Wendy blushed. "Ah, I'm in for a spanking, aren't I? I suppose I've earned
it."
Allison took Wendy into the prefect's lounge and locked the door. The teen
slipped her hose carefully before handing them to the teacher. Wendy tried not
to look at the younger woman's compact body, but she got a glimpse of toned thig
h and rounded bottom as the Allison fixed her clothing.
"Put these on and go about your day. Classes will be starting soon."
Wendy took off her shoes and skirt so she could put the hose on. It surpris
ed her to feel no embarrassment at undressing in front of the girl, but after wh
at they'd been through, it made a strange sort of sense. Once her clothes were
fixed, she realized they had skipped something.
"What about ?" Wendy asked.
"Meet me here after detention period. Everyone will be gone by then."
Later that day, Wendy Carpenter stalked through the halls after the last det
ention bell, looking like a teacher on a mission but feeling like a schoolgirl.
She was in the position of a schoolgirl, after all. It had been unorthodox eno
ugh to take whacks but walking to her punishment was even more humbling.
She had time to think about the fact that she was walking to the prefect's
lounge for a spanking, just the same as many other student's at the school. Suf
fering through an impromptu dozen or so from Allison's paddle had nothing on the
anticipation Wendy had to deal with all day. In all of her spare moments, she
wondered what the girl had meant by "spanking." Allison said the word with a sig
nificance that suggested it'd be different from the discipline Wendy had already
received.
Wendy found the door to the prefect's lounge all too soon. At least the wai
t was over. She stepped inside. Allison sat in a chair, reading a textbook and
looking perfect, save for the absence of the pantyhose that Wendy had borrowed.
"Lock the door behind you, Carpenter," Allison ordered.
"Yes, Miss." Wendy turned the latch and faced her prefect.
"Remove your shoes, hose and skirt."
Wendy took a breath before moving to obey. First she stepped out of each of
her shoes and set them next to each other by one of the chairs. Then she unzip
ped her skirt and slid it down her legs before picking it up and folding it to p
lace it on the chair by her shoes. Finally she rolled off the hose and offered
them back to their original owner, holding them out.
"You need to bring a spare to school," Allison told her before rising to tak
e them. "Accidents happen."
"Yes, Miss."
"Bring me that chair," Allison said. She pointed to a sturdy, armless woode

n chair set up against the wall. Wendy shuffled over and grabbed it, feeling aw
kward and exposed with her panties on full display, barely covered at all by the
hem of her blouse. "Don't drag it." Wendy had indeed started to drag it acros
s the wooden floor and corrected it by carrying it over to where Allison stood.
Allison sat down in the chair and pointed to her right side. Wendy had thou
ght she might bend over the chair but she wasn't prepared for the humiliation of
going across the teen's knee. It was going to be different. The girl intended
to spank her in the more traditional, literal sense of the world.
"Across my knee, Carpenter."
"Yes, Miss," Wendy replied and found her body obeying automatically, easing
across the girl's thighs. Wendy's hair was pinned up in the back, leaving her f
ace uncovered aside from her collar shifting high up her neck to brush against h
er ears. Her hands found their place on the floor and Allison pulled her shirt
up leaving nothing but her pink panties to protect her bottom from the impending
correction. In a surprise bit of intimacy, Allison reached into the teacher's
inner thighs and pulled her legs apart. Satisfied with the position, Allison pa
tted Wendy's relaxed buttocks before swatting down with the first spank.
Things moved too quickly for Wendy from there and before a minute passed, sh
e found herself in the middle of a full on spanking. Left, right, up down, fast
and deliberate, Allison punished the older woman with a varying pace and unpred
ictable style that threatened Wendy's ability to maintain decorum. It was bad e
nough to be spanked like a child by a girl over fifteen years her junior, but We
ndy's gasps were turning to yelps and her relaxed submission was spoiled by kick
ing legs.
"Naughty girl," Allison scolded. "You think the rules are for everyone else
." She didn't break pace while she lectured the teacher.
"No, Miss! Sorry, Miss!" Wendy replied. Even as it happened, Wendy was sho
cked at the rate of her own recalcitrance. Every swat served to reduce her and
in some sense, release her. She no longer cared for being older or a teacher an
d fell further into being just another spanked girl across a prefect's knee.
The spanking didn't abate. Wendy had been counting and thought for sure tha
t it would end at one hundred swats. When it didn't, she started crying. She d
idn't even protest when the teen took her panties down and spanked her bare bott
om. She just bawled and apologized and promised to be better.
Several minutes later, Wendy knelt between the prefect's knees, blowing into
a tissue while the girl helped to clean her up. Allison stroked her hair and r
ubbed her back and Wendy felt warm and wanted to stay there forever. Her pantie
s were still at her knees which suited her just fine while her bottom cooled off
. After a time, things got even more strange and also more wonderful. She star
ted talking. Wendy talked about moving to a new town, about how hard it was to
fit in with the other teachers, about the predictable drama that came with being
the new drama teacher's assistant. She poured it all out, first in a cathartic
deluge, then with laughter and comfort. Allison listened and responded and mad
e jokes and soon Wendy forgot all about her punishment and humiliation.
When Wendy's clothes were repaired and makeup reapplied, she hugged Allison
and thanked her. Genuinely thanked her, not just because it was something you d
id after being summoned to the prefect's lounge. It was quite a leap, but Wendy
knew that she didn't make a mistake when she handed all that authority over to t
he youngster, even though she yelped and squirmed during the entire ride home.
****

By the end of her five minute spanking, Wendy had to search hard for all of
the enlightenment and perspective she'd felt months ago when she submitted to th
e teen.
It was hard to think of such things when her bare bottom was absorbing more slap
s than a human should be able to give in such a short time. Her backside sizzle
d when Allison
let her up and sent her to the corner.
Wendy stuck her nose in it and held her skirt above her waist. Letting it f
all down to cover her bottom was unacceptable. Allison had taught Wendy that ha
rd
lesson some time ago and Wendy always tried to cut her losses. The sooner her p
unishment ended, the sooner she could sit in her prefect's lap and get her cuddl
e.
After all, she'd earned it.
END

Based on a MR. Magazine letter I started this about 20 years ago and, with inspi
ration from this group, decided to finish it.
Ocean City Part I
"Elaine, may I see you please?"
Ted Brooks called to Elaine Ivers, who had worked for ten years in Mr. Brooks'
small, three-person insurance/financial services office. Elaine, who functioned
as his administrative assistant, was thirty-six with short blond hair which, Ted
Brooks thought, gave her an impish appearance. She stood 5' 4" and still posse
ssed a firm body highlighted by perky 34c breasts and a round firm bottom that T
ed Brooks had so admired when he hired her. Elaine, who took great pride in her
appearance, was aware of Mr. Brooks' fondness for her bottom - she knew that he
seldom missed an opportunity to watch as she bent over a filing cabinet or walke
d away from his desk. So she would occasionally tease him by deliberating linger
ing over a low file drawer or dropping a pen or file. Over the years he often had
threatened to spank her for teasing, sassing him or for errors in her work. On o
ccasion, he would deliver a playful love-tap to her bottom when she was being pa
rticularly sassy "to show you who's the boss". Elaine was fond of the fifty-nin
e year old Mr. Brooks, an ordinary looking fellow and a widower for the last thr
ee years. He had always treated her well and she considered him a good friend. H
is glances and occasional love taps on her tail, rather than upset her, made her
feel sexy and attractive - especially after fourteen years of marriage to a dec
ent but inattentive husband who was more consumed by work than passion. Even tho
ugh Mr. Brooks' attention often excited her, Elaine loved her husband and never
considered allowing their game , as she thought of it, to progress any further.
"Are you going to be able to attend the seminar?"

"Yes, Mr. Brooks, my husband can fend for himself for a couple of days." After a
ll these years she still called him Mr. Brooks.

"Great. Ocean City is beautiful this time of year and with any luck this will tu

rn out to be a half-way decent rollout."

One of the insurance companies that Mr. Brooks represented was rolling out a new
portfolio of products and was holding a two-day conference to familiarize their
sales force with it. The seminar was being held over a Saturday and Sunday in O
cean City, a few hours drive away, with all expenses paid by the company (it s goo
d to be in sales). Mr. Brooks thought it would be a good idea if Elaine attended
and became familiar with the products, which he hoped would generate a new reve
nue stream for his office. The impact of their both being out of the office woul
d be minimal as they would leave Friday around noon and return Monday morning. A
nn, the retired bookkeeper who worked a few hours a week, had agreed to look aft
er the office Friday afternoon and Monday.

Friday afternoon arrived and the drive to Ocean City was uneventful. After check
ing into their hotel where they were, at Mr. Brooks' request, given adjoining ro
oms, they decided that after unpacking they would meet on the beach and go swimm
ing. When Elaine finished unpacking she looked at the two bikinis' she had bough
t specifically for this trip, trying to decide which one to wear. After not much
thought she decided to put on the skimpiest one which barely covered her bottom
and, when wet, would stick to her like glue. She enjoyed teasing Mr. Brooks and
as she looked in the mirror and admired the way the bathing suit complimented h
er figure, she giggled as she imagined his reaction. Satisfied with her appeara
nce, she headed out to the beach. It was relatively empty, but it seemed that th
e eyes of all of the men on it were riveted on Elaine as she looked for Mr. Broo
ks. Elaine soon spotted him and began waving and walking towards him. When he sa
w her coming he let out a low whistle and just stared. She looked terrific, he t
hought, as beautiful as he had always imagined.
"How do you like it", Elaine asked, pirouetting so that Mr. Brooks got a complet
e look at her and her suit. Her words roused him from his trance and he paused t
o gather his thoughts. He knew that she enjoyed teasing him, although he wasn't
sure if she knew how much he enjoyed it. Mr. Brooks had always been careful not
to "cross the line" with Elaine but now out of the office and in a casual settin
g he felt that he could push her a bit further but was determined to proceed cau
tiously.
"It's very becoming, but you'd better not tease me with that sassy bottom of yo
urs." he warned

"Please, don't bore me with those empty threats. she said as she put her towel do
wn next to his.

"Empty threats huh, maybe this weekend you'll finally get your bare-bottom spank
ing", he said with as much authority as he could muster.

"Bare!? she said with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Over the years she had
never imagined that his threats implied a bare-bottom spanking. She had always
imagined that at most it would be two or three smacks over her pants, if she let
him.

"Yes, I like to see what I'm spanking.

Well, I'm going swimming.

he replied, surprised at his boldness.

she said as she headed off towards the water.

"Wait up", he called as he headed after her.

While in the water they engaged in the usual horseplay and Elaine playfully accu
sed Mr. Brooks of "copping a few feels". Mr. Brooks, feigning innocence, laughi
ngly denied her accusations. Soon after this exchange they decided to return to
their blankets. As Elaine was walking towards the shore she decided to give Mr.
Brooks an added thrill and she pulled her bikini bottom up as high as it would g
o, exposing the lower portion of her bottom. Upon returning to the blanket Elain
e lay down on her stomach and asked Mr. Brooks to put some suntan lotion on her.
He asked where he should rub it and she replied, "Anywhere you don't see my sui
t." He immediately rubbed it on the exposed section of her right buttock and she
let out a little laugh. "You little tease, you did that on purpose." accused Mr
. Brooks. "What if I did? Elaine replied. "You really are asking for that bare bo
ttom spanking." Mr. Brooks warned as he delivered a light smack to the middle of
her bikini bottom. Elaine caught a glimpse of the front of Mr. Brook's trunks a
nd it was obvious that her teasing was getting a rise out of him, but not as he
pretended. Elaine had always wondered if she would let him spank her and now, as
his excitement fed her own, she decided that if he had the courage to put her o
ver his knee that she wouldn't stop him.

"I'm getting hungry.


."

Elaine said a few minutes later, "let's go back to the hotel

"Good idea. replied Mr. Brooks, and with that they picked up their towels and sta
rted back.

When they got to the lobby Mr. Brooks headed toward the elevator when Elaine sai
d, "Our rooms are only on the second floor. Let's take the stairs instead." With
out waiting for an answer she headed toward the staircase and Mr. Brooks followe
d. As Elaine began ascending the stairs she exaggerated the swaying of her hips.
Mr. Brooks, whose eyes were focused on Elaine's bottom, noticed immediately and
he again threatened her with a spanking for teasing him.

"Another empty threat and besides - you can't catch me." she responded as, amaze
d at her boldness, she began to run up the stairs. Mr. Brooks was momentarily st
unned by her words and the opportunity they presented, but he recovered quickly
- he wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away. He immediately began sprint
ing up the stairs after Elaine and managed to grab hold of her arm just as he re
ached the top of the stairs. When Elaine felt his hand on her arm she came to a
dead stop and her boss quickly scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

As they headed down the hall Elaine kept thinking over and over "I m going to get
spanked."
They soon arrived outside Mr. Brooks' door, which he promptly unlocked and enter
ed. He unceremoniously put Elaine back on her feet and pulled the straight back
chair away from the writing desk and into the middle of the room. He sat down, g
rasped Elaine by the wrist and immediately turned her over his knee, positioning
her with her head down and almost touching the floor while her legs dangled hel
plessly in the air. He then began the spanking with moderately hard smacks all o
ver her bottom. Elaine was soon wiggling her fanny all over Mr. Brooks' knees in
an attempt to escape the sting in her bottom brought about by the combination o
f Mr. Brooks' hand and her wet bathing suit. A rhythmic Smack, "ow!" Smack "Ow
owww!" soon filled the room. After about forty spanks there was a knock at the
door.

"Come in. answered Mr. Brooks while


hild. A boy, dressed in a bellhop's
about an inch shorter than Elaine,
find a bikini clad women lying over

leaving Elaine across his lap like a small c


uniform, opened the door and entered. He was
seventeen years old, and quite surprised to
Mr. Brook's lap.

"Someone saw you carrying the lady and I was sent up to make sure that everythin
g is all right. the boy explained, never taking his eyes off of Elaine.

"Everything is fine, isn't it Elaine".

"Ye, yes" she replied, hoping that the boy would leave and spare her any further
embarrassment. To her horror she heard Mr. Brooks say "Please sit down. When I
've finished teaching her to behave I'll give you your tip."

The boy immediately sat down. He surely wasn't going to miss seeing a grown woma
n get spanked and be tipped for it. Mr. Brooks now turned his attention back to
Elaine. "In for a penny, in for pound. he thought as he reached for the waistband
of Elaine's bikini bottom. Slowly he lowered it, savoring each moment until it
rested around her thighs. A few moments passed as he and the bellboy admired Ela
ine's round, firm bottom. Elaine, meanwhile, remained quietly over Mr. Brooks' k
nees thinking, " It's all a dream. It's all a dream." and blushed furiously at t
he thought of her bottom being exposed to her boss and this kid.

Reality set in with a hard smack as Mr. Brooks resumed spanking with much more a
uthority. The sting of this spank caused Elaine to gasp and by the time that she
had caught her breath four more smacks had been delivered to her reddening bott
om. She began to kick her legs frantically while wiggling her bottom in a vain a
ttempt to escape but Mr. Brooks held her firmly and continued to spank her botto
m until her cheeks were a deep, rosy red and her pleas of NO, PLEASE STOP, OW, O
W had turned into soft sobbing and she lay meekly over his lap. Sensing she had h
ad enough Mr. Brooks delivered six stingers to the top of her thighs, stood her
up and, with a sharp smack on her tail, ordered her, still bare-bottomed and wit
h her bikini bottoms around her ankles, to the corner. "Hands on your head and n

o rubbing!

he ordered and Elaine hurriedly complied.

Mr. Brooks then turned to the boy whose eyes were riveted on the bare-bottomed w
oman sniffling in the corner. "I'm sorry that because of her bad behavior you ha
d to come up here and then wait so long for your tip. I think that she would agr
ee that she deserves another spanking for wasting your time - and that you shoul
d give it to her." The boy sat there with a startled look on his face. After a m
oment's hesitation he said in an excited but barely audible voice "Well, if that s
, ah, yeah OK."

Elaine, who had been focused on the sting in her bottom, suddenly realized what
was being discussed. Mr. Brooks was telling this kid, who was about the same age
as her paperboy, that he could spank her. "Nooo, please."

"Why not? asked Mr. Brooks, "you deserve it for making him come up here and wait.
"

"I'm too sore for another spanking." she said rubbing her bottom for emphasis. "
Can I have some time to recover?

"I guess so." replied Mr. Brooks, not wanting to push her too far. "Now get thos
e hands back on your head!"

As Elaine did as she was told Mr. Brooks said to the bellboy, "You can get your
tip later."

"Sure, no problem." the boy mumbled and, disappointed, headed for the door. As h
e exited there were two sudden flashes of light and Elaine realized that her bos
s had just taken two pictures of her with his phone. As she turned around to con
front him about the pictures he got a perfect shot of her face and bare-bottom.

What are you doing!

she shouted.

Just insuring that you will pay your debt. replied Mr. Brooks. After all, it would
be very embarrassing if these somehow wound up on the web.

Realizing she was trapped, Elaine turned back into the corner and tried to think
of a way to avoid tipping the bellboy and getting the pictures from Mr. Brooks.

Since you ve had your fun, now can we get something to eat?
t five minutes had passed.

Elaine asked after abou

"Sure, let's change and meet in the lobby."

"Okay, but let's go somewhere with cushioned seats."

Dinner passed uneventfully and the conversation was routine, with no mention of
the spanking. Mr. Brooks, afraid he had gone too far, avoided the topic for fear
of upsetting Elaine. Elaine had decided not to make a fuss - she believed that
Mr. Brooks had had his fun and, if she was on good behavior for the rest of the
trip, he would forget about the bellboy and they could discuss the pictures once
they got home. As a result she chatted as if nothing had happened. Unfortunatel
y for Elaine, Mr. Brooks interpreted Elaine s avoidance of the topic as acceptance
and, emboldened, he felt that he could certainly have a bit more fun with her.

Saturday and Sunday passed quickly as they attended the seminars and meals that
are the staple of these conferences. Mr. Brooks made no mention of Elaine s debt and
she relaxed, thinking she was going to escape her fate. They planned on leaving
early on Monday morning. Mr. Brooks woke up, showered, shaved and then listened
for signs of life in Elaine's room. Not hearing any he began knocking on the do
or between their adjoining rooms.

Elaine startled, woke up and glanced at the clock; it was 15 minutes before her
alarm was set to go off.

Elaine get up, it late and we need to get a move on.

"But we have plenty of time."

"I want to beat the traffic, everyone will be leaving at once."

OK, just let me hop in the shower and then I ll get dressed.

While your showering I ll have room service bring up breakfast, that will save us s
ome time.

Fine. I ll be ready in a jiffy.

Elaine had no sooner stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her wh
en there was a knock at the door. When she opened it she was surprised to see a
cart with breakfast on it, she had assumed it would be delivered to Mr. Brooks r
oom. Looking up she saw that the bellboy delivering the breakfast was the boy sh
e had been avoiding all weekend and her heart skipped a beat. She tried to convi
nce herself that it was merely a coincidence and she stepped aside to allow the
boy to wheel the cart into her room. Once it was in place he stepped aside and
was waiting for his tip for bringing up the breakfast when the door to the adjoi
ning room opened and Mr. Brooks entered. Elaine hurried to her purse, hoping a g
enerous tip would get the boy to leave with her dignity, and bottom, intact. She
knew she didn t have a lot of cash but when she looked in her purse she froze, th
ere was only one dollar. What she didn t know was that while she was in the shower
Mr. Brooks had emptied the cash from her purse, after he had arranged for the b
oy to bring up her breakfast.

I have no cash, can you loan me some money.

Elaine pleaded to Mr. Brooks.

Elaine, Elaine, that s two tips you owe this boy and you haven't paid either one. S
on, what do you plan to do?

What do you think I should do? the boy asked. He knew what the answer would be but
he wanted himself and Elaine to hear it.

If you re any man at all you ll give her the spanking she deserves for making you wai
t and then not having any money to tip you with.

That was all the boy needed to hear. He grabbed Elaine firmly by the ear and fro
g-marched her over to the corner of the bed where he sat down He was stronger th
en he looked as
he had little trouble turning the struggling woman over his knee. Once he had h
er positioned to his liking he yanked at the towel, pulling it off and leaving E
laine completely
nude. Stunned, Elaine lay still for a moment, until she felt the first stinging
slap crash into her bottom. What followed next was the most embarrassing and pa
inful ten
minutes of her life. She kicked, bucked and cried as smack after smack punished
her bottom as the boy, determined to paint every inch of her bottom a scarlet re
d, attacked it
with gusto. Finally, the spanking ceased, but not her humiliation. The boy want
ed to get his money s worth so he keep the nude Elaine across his knees for anothe
r five minutes
while he lectured her on being responsible and a good girl, punctuating his rem
arks with sharp slaps across her thighs which brought additional cries of anguis
h from the sobbing woman. Adding to her humiliation, Elaine had to respond with

either a Yes sir! or a No sir! when prompted. She knew that the boy was savoring eve
ry moment, and she could feel his erection pressing against her stomach.

When he had finished his lecture the boy looked at Mr. Brooks and asked,
man enough?

Is that

I would say so.

Good, now get up and get your ass in the corner and hands on head! the boy ordered
as he helped Elaine up. He punctuated his orders with a smack to each of Elaine
's glowing cheeks and she scurried, naked into the corner, more concerned with s
aving her bottom then saving her modesty.

Keep her there for ten minutes, and then she can have breakfast, she s certainly pa
id for it. If she acts up just call room service.

Will do. replied Mr. Brooks, pleased that things had gone even better then he had
dared hope. Elaine was standing naked in the corner, her bottom a glowing red, i
t just couldn t have worked out any better.

As soon as the boy left Elaine, covering herself with her hands, turned to leave
the corner.

Wait a minute young lady, corner time is not over. Now get your hands on your hea
d, nose to the wall or I m going to have to call room service.

Noooo! Elaine squealed as she buried her face in the corner while furiously trying
to rub the sting out of her butt.

"Hands on head I said, or I will call room service."

Elaine, cowed by the threat, did as she was told.

The ten minutes passed slowly for Elaine as Mr. Brooks enjoyed his breakfast and
the view of Elaine's beautiful red bottom. When she was allowed to leave the co
rner she ran into the bathroom to get dressed. When she emerged Mr. Brooks told
her to sit down and have some breakfast.

I think I ll just stand. was her reply. "I'm not very hungry."

Elaine s humiliation wasn t quite over. As she and Mr. Brooks walked through the lob
by she spotted the bellboy who waved and shouted, Thank you for the generous tip.

This is posted as a tribute to the author.


My name is Danny Deeter and I live with my parents in the Shady Grove Mobile Hom
e Community, which is right in the middle of Ozymandias County, which is right i
n the middle of nowhere. My dad, Don Deeter, is a shit-sluice operator at the Co
ntinental Crap Sewage Reclamation Plant, which is the only major employer in the
county. My mom, Darlene Deeter, is a cashier at the Con-Crap Co-Op, which every
one calls Crap-Mart. Everybody shops there because it's all there is around here
. There's not much to do in Ozymandias County so any opportunity for entertainme
nt is welcome. This is the story of how I created a lot of entertainment at the
school carnival when I was 12 and made a pile of cash besides, with my mom as an
unwitting accomplice.
My best friend Bobby Lee and I had everything set up and ready to go by the time
Mom showed up that warm Saturday morning at the Ozymandias County Junior High S
pring Fair and Carnival. (Bobby and I had been best friends since his family emi
grated here from Virginia when we were both 6.) At the age of 12 I still thought
my mom was the hottest woman in the world and it was plain from the looks that
the men and boys at the carnival gave her that some of them came close to sharin
g my opinion. I could see their eyes following her as she walked toward us acros
s the dry grass of my school's all-purpose athletic field, where the carnival wa
s set up. Tall and slender with long, curly brown hair, nice shaped boobs, thoug
h not too big, and a firm, round rear end that all the males behind her were obv
iously focusing on. She was wearing a sleeveless knit dress, white with little b
lue flowers on it, tight down to her hips then hanging loose and swingy to the h
em just above her knees. Her legs were bare and she had on a pair of high-heeled
sandals made out of this kind of basket-like material that matched her purse.
Can you see why some of the feelings I had about my mom were not exactly the kin
d you would want to tell anybody about? I mean, I didn't want to have sex with h
er or anything but, damn she was hot. "Hi, Danny! Hi, Bobby!" she called out wit
h a smile and a big wave when she spotted us.
Before I could say a thing, Mr. Armstrong, the principal of our school (a short,
fat, bald-headed dipshit) came running over and shook Mom's hand. "Mrs. Deeter,
" he said, "I can't tell you how grateful we all are to you for volunteering thi
s way! When Danny came up with this idea I had my doubts, but he insisted that y
ou would go along with it and I certainly believe it will raise a lot of money f
or the school. I just want to thank you for being such a good sport. Not many pa
rents would do something like this. You're a real heroine, Mrs. Deeter!"
"Well, uh, you're welcome," Mom stammered in response, a little confused by the
whole thing. To tell the truth I hadn't been too specific about what her part in
my great plan was going to be, only that her participation was vital and that i
t would raise a lot of money for a good cause. Just then though, I knew I had to
get her away from big-mouthed Mr. Armstrong before he told her too much and sca
red her off.
"Come on, Mom!" I half-whined, taking hold of her left hand (Mr. Armstrong still
had a grip on her right) and pulling her away as if I were just anxious to show

her the project I'd put so much work into.


"OK, I'm coming," she said. "Sorry to rush off, Mr. Armstrong. I'm sure I'll see
you later."
"Absolutely!" Mr. Armstrong agreed. "I'll be keeping a close eye on your son's e
xhibit, I certainly will!" As Bobby pitched in to help me drag Mom over to the b
ooth we could hear the principal yelling, "That boy of yours is a genius, Mrs. D
eeter! A genius!" Our principal was just about as complete a jackass as any one
man could be.
"Oh, my," Mom commented when she saw what I had put so much time and creativity
into constructing. The booth was built around a stout wooden workbench from my s
hop class, about 6 feet long, and 20 inches wide. The sides and front were cover
ed with canvas and the back was left open. Placed in the middle of the flat top
was a basket of tennis balls and behind the booth was big plywood target, mounte
d on a 2 by 4 frame, with a tennis ball-sized hole right in the middle of it. Ha
nd painted on the canvas front of the booth was "Paddling Booth -- $1.00; Try Yo
ur Skill; Ring The Bell And Paddle Danny's Mom."
Mom seemed less than enthusiastic when she read the sign but I told her that lit
tle hole with the bell hidden inside was almost impossible to hit and encouraged
her to try it and see. She did and came nowhere near it. Sensing that she was s
oftening to the idea I moved in for the close. "Even if a few of them do manage
to ring the bell," I assured her, "they're just kids. How hard could they hit? Y
ou aren't afraid of 12 year olds, are you?" In point of fact, since the school e
ncompassed grades 7 and 8, about half of the students were 13 and few were 14 bu
t I saw no reason to bring that up.
"No, of course not," she said, still sounding a little unsure.
"That's the spirit, Mom!" I replied as if she had whole-heartedly agreed.
"Come on, Mrs. Deeter," Bobby encouraged, "we'll help you get into position."
Mom laughed and went along with the game as we led her around the booth until sh
e saw the paddle hanging on its hook on the side. I had made it in wood shop and
it had been a true labor of love. It was just under half an inch thick and made
of solid ash, the stuff they make baseball bats out of, finely sanded, heavily
varnished and polished to mirror smoothness. Its 'business end' was 3 inches wid
e and 16 inches long and its handle was long enough for a good 2-handed grip. Mo
m's eyes got as big as saucers when she caught sight of my masterpiece of woodcr
aft; she stopped suddenly and said, "Uh, wait a minute, here. Maybe we ought to
rethink this."
"There's no time for that, Mom," I insisted, pulling on both her hands while Bob
by pushed from behind. "The carnival's already started! Every minute we waste is
money that won't be made for the school. You want to help the school, don't you
?"
"Of course I do," she sighed as we guided her into position. Bobby took her purs
e and stashed it under the booth for safekeeping.
"Great!" I said. "Then just stand here behind the booth, right here at the end,
lean over, rest on your elbows and grip the front edge."
"Like this," she asked, doing as I'd instructed. As she leaned over the hem of h
er dress went up to about mid-thigh in back.
"Yeah," I said. "Just like that."

Bobby moved to the front of the booth and quickly fastened Mom's wrists into a p
air of Velcro straps that were nailed to the edge of the counter top. "Don't wor
ry, Mrs. Deeter," he said when she started to object, "it's just for show. Showm
anship, you know. That's what makes a successful carnival display."
"Yeah," I agreed. "And that's what brings in lots of money, too."
"Yeah," Bobby averred.
"Well, OK," Mom assented. "As long as it's for a good cause."
"Oh, it is!" I assured her.
Bobby stepped back a bit to take in the whole picture and gave me a thumbs up. M
om and I were both behind the booth, her leaning forward over the top at the rig
ht end, from Bobby's point of view. The direction of his eyes told me that he wa
s getting a good look down the front of her dress, I hadn't thought of that befo
re but it would definitely help to draw a crowd. I was standing behind the left
side, ready to hand out the tennis balls and take the money, the target waited b
ehind and between us and that hand-painted sign told potential customers everyth
ing they needed to know. Almost everything, that is.
Actually there was a little more to the whole set up than I had let Mom in on. I
t was true that the target was almost impossible to hit because the hole was har
dly bigger than the tennis ball and if you didn't hit it right on it would just
bounce off the edge. However, it was also true that hitting the target wasn't th
e only way to ring the bell. There was a lever under the booth that I could push
with my foot, which would pull a carefully concealed cord that would cause the
bell to ring just as if the target had been hit.
For helping in the design and construction of the Paddling Booth, Bobby Lee and
the Finnegan twins, Pat and Mike, would get to ring the bell every time they tri
ed. They could play for free but everyone else would have to pay. Bobby and the
twins would pass the word around quietly that anyone who slipped an extra buck t
o yours truly was guaranteed a hit, in more ways than one. That would bring in a
lot more business than if we were playing it straight so the school would end u
p making more money and I would bring home a bundle besides. On top of that, eve
ryone would have a great time, not just the participants but also the crowd of o
nlookers that would get the rare privilege of seeing a grown woman soundly spank
ed by a bunch of 12 and 13 year-olds. It was a win-win situation, really.

Meg donovan
Paddling Booth 2
Sun May 22, 2011 17:39
69.121.96.23
For everybody but Mom that is, she was about to spend the entire afternoon havin
g her rear end paddled by a horde of junior-high kids in front of the whole scho
ol, including the faculty and most of the parents. I was pretty sure she wouldn'
t have gone along with that part of the plan so I neglected to fill her in on it
. That was the real reason for the wrist straps, that way she couldn't turn arou
nd to watch the target and maybe notice that some of the winning pitches had obv
iously not hit the mark. Of course, other people would probably catch on but, as
I've said before, entertainment is scarce in Ozymandias County and no one would
want to be known as the person who spoiled this much fun.
The only one who might have messed things up, if he were there, was my dad. On t

he other hand, he might have thought it was just great. He had a paddle of his o
wn that he kept hanging from a nail in the wood paneling of our trailer's living
room. It was made of cedar and wasn't as long or as thick as the one the ash on
e I'd made in wood shop, a fact I took a lot of pleasure in. (I don't know if I'
d heard of the Oedipus Complex by then but I guess mine was more complex than mo
st.) Dad had used that paddle on me now and then but I'd seen him put it to good
use on Mom's butt many times over the years. It was mostly in a spirit of playf
ulness but he always gave her a good walloping.
My first erections, before I even knew what they were, had happened watching my
mom, stretched out over my dad's lap on the couch, kicking and squealing like a
little girl while he laid that paddle across her upturned bottom with glee and g
usto. Dad plainly enjoyed spanking her in front of me, almost as if it were just
for my entertainment. Sometimes he even handed me the paddle and let me give he
r a few swats while he held her in place on his lap. Hey, some families bowl tog
ether, our family spanks together, I'll take it over bowling any day. If he was
at the carnival, though, it's likely that he would have tried to take over. But
that wasn't going to be a problem; he was working Saturdays all this month and w
ouldn't be able to make it. It looked like I was in charge of the show.
The kids started lining up right away I got into my carnival barker routine, sho
uting, "Step right up, folks! It's just one dollar! Ring the bell and swat the l
ady's behind!" I saw Mom tense up a bit when the first one threw, then relax whe
n she heard the dull thud of the ball hitting outside the bull's-eye.
After the second one missed she got into the act herself, laughing and saying, "
Nyah, nyah nyah, you missed!" When the next one missed she started taunting the
crowd, "Think you can do any better? Go ahead and try! Ha-ha-ha!" I could see wh
at she was doing; confident that no one was going to get a hit she was trying to
get them mad enough to try anyway. She was a natural at this, before long she h
ad them all fired up to see her get what was coming to her for teasing them that
way. Some of the parents and teachers were standing around watching and they we
re all getting into the spirit too. Everyone loudly encouraged each pitcher and
there was a disappointed, "Ohhh," when he missed. Then Mom would launch into her
act and they would all be cheering the next kid in line. The crowd really wante
d to see somebody paddle her butt by the time Bobby Lee stepped up to the booth.
I had asked Bobby and the Finnegan twins to let a few other kids go first and th
en to space themselves out so it wouldn't look so suspicious. Also, I thought it
would help to build the sense drama if the first several pitchers missed. "Hi,
Mrs. Deeter," he said with a grin as he paid his buck and picked up a ball.
"You think you can ring that bell?" she challenged.
"I'm going to try," he answered.
"Ha!" she laughed. "Go ahead and try, I dare ya!"
"OK," Bobby agreed.
He went into a big theatrical wind up, like he was pitching the World Series or
something. The crowd held its breath. I could see Mom looking sidewise at Bobby
with a smug smirk on her face, ready to dog him out completely for missing.
Bobby threw.
I pushed the hidden lever with my foot.
"DING!" went the bell.

The crowd broke out in cheers and laughter. Kids rushed up to pat Bobby on the b
ack.
"We got a winnah!" I announced.
"What?" Mom demanded.
Bobby, red-faced and grinning with excitement, folded his arms and stared down a
t her in triumph. "Well," he said, "I guess somebody's gonna get it now!" To lau
ghter and cheers from the crowd, he strutted around the booth, grabbed the paddl
e from its hook and took up position to deliver the spanking they were all so ea
ger to see.
Mom gave me a reproachful look over her shoulder then sighed and seemed to resig
n herself to the inevitable. Still with her elbows on the top of the booth she p
ushed back until her head was between her forearms. This way her bottom was perf
ectly presented for the paddling it was about to receive. She stood there with h
er knees bent; her butt pressed backward and upward, causing her hemline to cree
p further up her legs. She dropped her head forward like she was trying to check
out her own cleavage and let her hair fall over counter-top. I noticed her peek
ing at me through the hair that had fallen across her face and hoped she couldn'
t tell how excited I was. I knew my face was turning red and I couldn't keep the
grin off my face as I watched my best friend line up the paddle across her butt
.
Bobby held the paddle with both hands and drew it back like a baseball bat. The
crowd was deathly silent in expectation. Mom tensed up for the coming swat. I wa
s glad to be wearing baggy jeans because I was starting to get a stiffy already.
The paddle whooshed through the air and landed with a resounding WHAP! that mad
e the seat of Mom's knit dress billow out around the impact zone and propelled h
er forward to slam her hips against the top of the booth. Her head snapped up, s
ending hair flying all around, and she yelled, "YEOW!" The crowd went crazy with
cheers and applause. Bobby held the paddle over his head in triumph. Mom glared
over her shoulder at me and whined, "I thought you said 12 year olds couldn't h
it very hard!"
"Uh, not really, Mom," I corrected. "Actually I just asked 'how hard could they
hit?' It was a question you see, not a statement." I was pretty proud of myself
for coming up with that one. I wondered if maybe I would go into politics some d
ay.
Mom was red-faced; it must have been pretty humiliating for her to be paddled by
a 12 year old kid like that, especially with the whole school and just about th
e whole PTA cheering him on. It looked like the sting from that swat was just st
arting to really set in. She was twisting her butt around and pulled back agains
t the Velcro straps like she was trying to reach back and rub her behind but for
got that she couldn't. Everyone had a good laugh at how uncomfortable she looked
. I guess I should have felt some sympathy for her but I couldn't help joining i
n the laughter, she just looked so ridiculous.
She recovered pretty quickly though. As soon as the next kid got ready to throw
Mom yelled, "It was luck! It was just luck!"
The kid missed and whined, "That's not fair! She messed up my throw!"
"Sorry," I said. "One try's all you get. Get back in line if you want to go agai
n."
"Hee, hee , hee; can't hit me!" Mom sang.

The kid went back to the end of the line looking sullen and sorrowful. Everyone
tried to cheer him up saying, "You'll get her next time," and stuff like that. M
om must have believed that Bobby's hit was just luck because she was really aski
ng for it. The crowd couldn't wait to see somebody else give her a good whack.
They didn't have to wait long either. One of the Finnegan twins stepped up with
a big smile and said, "I'll give it a try now."
"So ya feelin' lucky today, huh, Pat?" Mom hazarded.
"It's Mike," he replied, "and yeah, I'm feelin' pretty lucky." He gave me a wink
as he plunked down his buck and got his tennis ball. I couldn't blame Mom for n
ot knowing which one he was, no one can tell them apart. They don't make it any
easier either since they always dress alike. Sometimes they pretend to be each o
ther, too, just for the fun of it, so when one of them tells you who he is you s
till don't know for sure. Sometimes I wonder if they even know for sure which on
e is which, or if it really matters.
Anyway, Mike (or Pat) gave the ball a toss and the bell rung again. "Oh, crap!"
Mom exclaimed. The crowd cheered, they all wanted to see her get it again. And t
hey weren't going to be disappointed. Mike took the paddle off its hook and line
d it up against her butt. Mom didn't set herself up like she did for the first o
ne, she just let her head drop forward and tightened her grip on the front of th
e workbench top. Mike drew back and let her have it, WHACK! The crowd went wild.
Mom complained, "OWW!" as she tried to stand up but was stopped by the straps o
n her wrists.
Mike hung the paddle back on its hook and patted Mom on the head before he walke
d away. "Bye, Mrs. Deeter," he said. "Let's do this again soon." Mom didn't look
terribly happy at that prospect.
A few more kids tried and missed and Mom got back into her teasing routine but a
little more hesitantly than before. Still, it was enough to convince everyone t
hat she really needed another whacking. And that's just what she got. Pat Finneg
an put down his dollar and rung the bell, with a little help from yours truly. L
ike Bobby and Mike before him, Pat took the paddle in both hands and applied it
where it would do the most good. "OHH!" Mom yelled, spanked again by another 12year-old kid in front of an audience that figured she had it coming and a lot mo
re besides. And a lot more was just what she was going to get.
It wasn't long before my moneymaking scheme started to pay off. A kid walked up
and plunked down his buck then, kind of shyly, slipped another one across the bo
oth toward me. I scooped it up and gave the kid a wink. He didn't come anywhere
near the bull's-eye but the bell rang out loud and clear. I shouted, "Anothah wi
nnah!" in my best ballpark voice and the kid just stood there grinning like a Po
ssum. "Well?" I finally asked. "You gonna do it or what?" The kid nodded his hea
d vigorously but the others in line had to give him a push and some loud encoura
gement to get him moving.
He recovered pretty well though, once he got the paddle in his hands. Laughing l
ike an idiot, he drew back and gave that behind a mighty SMACK! "YIPE!" Mom comp
lained. The crowd loved it and I knew that my plan was working out.
A few more kids tried and missed before the next one ponyed up an extra buck for
the privilege. He got his money's worth and more followed behind him. The word
must have gotten out pretty quickly because more and more kids were ringing the
bell. My mom was getting a good paddling in front of an ever-growing audience an
d yours truly was making a chunk of change.

Meg donovan
Paddling Booth 3
Sun May 22, 2011 17:40
69.121.96.23
The back of Mom's skirt, which was already pulled up a good bit by her bent over
position, crept ever further up the backs of her thighs from the constant swatt
ing of her rear end. Everyone could see what was happening and kids started angl
ing the swats upward to accentuate the effect. Before long the hem of her skirt
was across the middle of her butt and the lower part of her white panties were i
n open view, as well as the seam of her sheer pantyhose and the much-reddened sk
in below them. People in the crowd were laughing and pointing, several were taki
ng pictures.
That was when Hallie Burton, captain of the girl's softball team, stepped up to
the booth. She didn't plunk down the extra buck although the wink she gave me to
ld me that she knew what the deal was. I had to admire her; she was going to do
it on her own. And do it she did! I was beginning to believe it wasn't possible
to ring that bell without my clandestine assistance but she damn sure did it. Ha
llie strutted over to the paddle like a rooster and took it off the hook with pr
ide. I heard Mom groan in expectation as Hallie wound up and swung the paddle. W
HACK! It landed right on target and sent the hem of my mom's skirt flying up to
land on the small of her back. The crowd applauded while Hallie took a little bo
w. I even joined in, I couldn't help it, that swat had been a work of art.
Mom lay across the booth muttering "ow, ow, ow," and twisting her butt around fo
r awhile, a butt that was now covered only by a little pair of shiny white panti
es, until she seemed to notice that something was wrong, She looked back over he
r shoulder and gasped when she saw her exposed undies. "Danny!" she shrieked. "P
ull my dress back down!"
"Sorry, Mom," I said, trying to stop laughing. "That would be interference. It w
ould be bad for business." I noticed Mom's shoes, kicked loose in mid whack, als
o lying nearby.
After that the show really got under way. More and more kids were paying the ext
ra buck. Bobby and the Finnegans went back through several times, as did a lot o
f the other kids. The paddle swung again and again and Mom's panty covered butt
bounced and jiggled under the blows. Mom didn't tease the kids anymore, they tau
nted her now, bragging about how they were going to spank her or how they had or
how they were going to again. Some of them made a big show with theatrical wind
ups and cries of, "It's a line drive!" or "Here's one right up the middle!"
The crowd of adults cheered every swat. They laughed at Mom's ever-louder yelps
of pain, calling her a "big baby" and a "brat" who deserved what she was getting
. Every now and than one would yell, "Hey Darlene, that was my kid there!" They
all seemed to have cameras and a few had video cameras. My mother's paddling wou
ld be a favorite slide show and home movie feature at barbeques and beer parties
all over Ozymandias County for years to come and I could tell by the way she tr
ied to hide her bright red face behind her tangled hair that she knew it too.
A guy from the local paper showed up and started taking pictures. After getting
a few shots of her beet-red behind in the little white panties that failed to co
mpletely cover it he moved to the front of the booth and said, "OK, Mrs. Deeter,
give us a big smile." Mom flattened herself on the top of the booth with her fa
ce down and wouldn't look up.
Just then Hallie Burton came up to the plate again. "I'll make her look up," she
promised. Hallie threw and rung the bell, without my help again. Once she got h
old of the paddle she took up her best batter's stance and gave in all she had.

The paddle landed with a deafening KA-POW! Mom's high heels shot up in back and
her head and shoulders did the same in front, leaving her weight on her hips and
elbows. The newsman's camera flashed in time to catch my mother's face, surroun
ded by flying brown hair, her eyes clamped tightly shut and her mouth open in a
perfect O. That would have been enough to guarantee a front-page photo but, unbe
knownst to anyone, while Mom was flattened out on the top of the booth she had m
anaged to snag the neckline of her dress on an exposed nail. When she jerked up
the front of her dress ripped completely open, exposing her little white lace br
a to the whole county.
The kids standing in line laughed so hard that some of them nearly fell over. A
man in the crowd yelled, "Nice tits, Darlene!" A woman added, "Yeah, for a 12 ye
ar old!" I thought that was uncalled for, like I said before, her boobs aren't a
ll that big but their still nicely shaped. Mom stayed in place for a few seconds
with a 'deer in the headlights' look on her face. Her eyes were wide open now a
nd the realization of what had just happened spread across her features. She slo
wly lowered herself back down and looked like she was trying to burrow into the
wood. Her heels were still up in the air, her knees bent and her ankles crossed.
I know her butt had to be as hot as a stove by then; she wiggled around some an
d made little whimpering sounds that everyone thought were pretty funny. I guess
I should have felt sorrier for her than I did, but I didn't.
Mom probably thought that things were about as bad as they could get right then,
but she was wrong. At the head of the line was none other than Biff Buford, the
school bully. He motioned me over and I hesitantly complied. "I wasn't gonna co
me to this stupid carnival," he said, "till I heard what was goin' on. Now I'm g
onna throw this ball and that bell is gonna ring. Is that clear?"
"Uh, sure thing, Biff," I replied. It was obvious that he knew the whole setup b
ut had no intention of paying the extra buck. At least he did pitch in the dolla
r for the school. Biff threw the ball pretty straight but it wasn't quite dead o
n. The bell rang anyway, of course, as I stomped the hidden lever --three times.
Dad always told me to suck up to the school bully whenever I can because it's g
ood practice for dealing with bosses.
DING-DING-DING the bell rang out. "What!" Mom objected. "That's not possible!"
Biff shook his finger right in front of her face and said with an evil grin, "Yo
u are so gonna get it." Mom tried to bite his finger but he jerked it back then
grabbed her nose between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a wicked twist.
"Ow-ow-ow," Mom complained in a nasal whine. She put her feet back on the ground
and tried to pull back but Biff had too tight a grip. Everybody laughed as my m
om twisted and whined but couldn't escape the 12-year-old bully who was tweaking
her nose. With all eyes on Mom's face, no one else noticed Biff's Mom slip behi
nd the action and approach Mom from the rear. And, rear is the operative word he
re. Biff's Mom grabbed the waistband of Mom's pantihose, causing Mom's eyes to r
eally pop open wide. "My pantihose!" Mom wailed, just as Biff's Mom depantihosed
her in a twinkling of an eye. "But, but" Mom sputtered. And Biff's Mom said "Bu
tt is exactly right!", as she reared back and tossed Mom's balled up pantyhose d
eep into the crowd, causing even more laughter. It didn't last long though; Biff
was in a hurry to get to work. He let go of Mom's nose, which was now as red as
her cheeks (both sets) and stepped around to the back of the booth. He didn't s
top to pick up the paddle, which struck me as odd until he stood behind Mom and
grabbed the waistband of her panties with both hands. I knew from painful experi
ence what was coming next.
The kids all started chanting, "Wedgie! Wedgie!" In a quick, jerking motion Biff
hauled the waistband of my mom's panties up to the small of her back. The seat
of those panties disappeared into the crack of her ass leaving her tomato-red bu

ns totally exposed. She yelped and jerked her head upward, exposing her bared br
a to the crowd again. Biff walked calmly over and picked the paddle off of its h
ook.
The crowd cheered. Mom shot me an accusatory look over her shoulder. I shrugged
my shoulders like, hey, what can I do? Biff took the paddle in both hands and ga
ve it a powerful swing. Mom squealed, "AI! AI! YIEE!" as Biff gave her three goo
d hard ones, one right after the other. The crowd broke into wild applause. Mom
twisted her bare butt around and moaned, "Oh my God."
During the rest of the afternoon my hapless mother had her bare bottom paddled b
y just about every kid at the carnival. She stomped and kicked and wriggled arou
nd like a worm on a frying pan. Mascara was running down her face and she was fl
ashing her white lace bra to the whole crowd. The crowd loved it, the kids had t
he time of their lives and the school made a shitload of cash. Besides which, yo
urs truly was a local hero and made a bundle on the side. Like I said before, it
was a win-win situation, for everybody but Mom.
But all good things must come to an end, and so it was with the Paddling Booth.
Principal Armstrong, who'd been watching all afternoon -- jumping up and squeali
ng like a girl whenever Mom got paddled, came over and announced the sad news th
at it was time to end the carnival. There was a disappointed "Awww," from everyo
ne but Mom who muttered, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Bobby Lee undid the Velcro wrist-straps while I got the money squared away; the
money for the school, which I gave to Mr. Armstrong, and loot I had collected fo
r my self, which went into my backpack. Mom stood up slowly, letting her dress f
all back into place and gingerly rubbing her bruised behind with both hands. I c
ould see by the way she was twisting around that she had just realized that her
panties were still tightly wedged into the crack of her ass but there was no way
she was going to lift her dress back up to try and pull them out. Then she said
, "Oh shit!" and grabbed the front of her dress with one hand to cover her bra.
She told Bobby to get her purse out from under booth. He did so and held it whil
e she rustled around in it with one hand, still holding the front of her dress t
ogether with the other. All the while she was muttering in a sarcastic tone, "Wh
y don't you help out at the carnival, Mom? It'll be fun, and it'll make lots of
money for the school. Oh, yeah! That was fun alright!"
"It did make lots of money," I helpfully suggested.
She shot me a look that would have fried a bug at thirty paces then shouted, "Ah
a! I knew I had one of these," and pulled a safety pin out of her purse. She qui
ckly pinned her dress together then started to reach back to rub her butt some m
ore but, eying the still watching crowd, pulled herself up into a dignified stan
ce and said, "Come on, mister genius, we're going home."
"Wait!" Bobby shouted. "You can't go yet. They're going to give the award for th
e best exhibit. You've got to win!"
"Come on, Mom," I whined.
"Oh, all right," she sighed. "Let's get it over with."
Principal Armstrong was sitting on a stool on a little wooden dais. When he saw
us coming he stood up and announced, "There he is, folks! The winner of the Best
Exhibit Ribbon, Danny Deeter!" Everyone cheered while I went up to get my ribbo
n. As soon as he handed it to me the principal said, "And how about a hand for D
anny's mom, Darlene Deeter!" There was thunderous applause and Mom looked pretty
embarrassed. "Come on up here, Mrs. Deeter," Mr. Armstrong added.

Mom was shaking her head and saying, "No, no, no," but people started pushing he
r forward. She held back and someone gave her an open-handed slap on the behind
that made her jump and squeal. She was looking around to see who'd swatted her w
hen she got smacked again. That one motivated her to move. She trotted forward,
picking up several resounding spanks along the way, and hopped up onto the dais.
The principal reached up to put his arm around her shoulders, he was about six i
nches shorter than her, and announced, "What a trooper!" The crowd cheered, Mom
just stood there rubbing her butt with both hands and dancing back and forth fro
m one foot to the other. Her hair and make-up were a mess, the front of her dres
s was held together with a safety pin and she was wincing in such a comical way
that everyone burst out laughing, including Principal Armstrong and yours truly.
Everyone cheered so loudly for her that Mom managed a half-hearted smile but the
n one of the kids yelled, "Hey, Mr. Armstrong should paddle her! He's the princi
pal!"
"Yeah," another added, "That's his job!"
"I'd give ten dollars to see that!" a man shouted.
"I'd give twenty!" a woman countered.
From there on a bidding war commenced and it was soon clear that the school coul
d make a tidy sum if Principal Armstrong paddled my mom. She was backing up and
looking pretty nervous when the Mr. Armstrong turned to her and said, "It is for
a good cause Mrs. Deeter. Not that I really want to do it but..," But it was pl
ain from the sweat on his face and the bulge in his pants that he wanted to more
than he wanted to take his next breath.
The school secretary stepped onto dais and handed Mr. Armstrong the official sch
ool paddle, a wicked-looking instrument of gleaming hardwood with holes drilled
along its length. Those holes could raise blisters and invariably produced an ef
fect that the kids all knew as 'waffle-butt'.
"I think ten is the customary number," the secretary said.
"Actually that's the maximum," the principal corrected.
"I think it's called for, don't you?" the secretary replied.
"Oh no!" Mom defiantly objected. "I don't think so!" Before anyone could react s
he turned and leapt off the dais into the crowd.
"But Mrs. Deeter," Mr. Armstrong called. "What about the children?"
That wasn't enough to get Mom to stop but it did give a sense of purpose to the
crowd. Before they'd only been motivated by a craving for entertainment. Now, wi
th one simple question, Principal Armstrong had turned it into a righteous cause
. No way would they allow her to skip out in so cowardly a way on 'the children'
.
A woman grabbed her by the back of her dress and shouted, "You get back here!" M
om pressed on ahead, the dress, already torn in front, came off her with a loud
RRRRIP! She lost her purse in the process but made no effort to recover it. Inst
ead she broke into a headlong sprint clad only in her bra and panties (still wed
ged up the crack of her black and blue butt).
Another woman took hold of the back of he bra and spun her around so that she wa

s facing the dais. The bra was the kind that snaps in front and it came off in t
he woman's hand, leaving my mom running, bent over with both arms wrapped around
her bare boobs, straight back toward the inevitable. She still seemed to think
that she was headed for safety until she tripped over the side of the dais and d
id a belly-flop onto it. Two men from the crowd leapt onto the dais and helpfull
y took one of her arms each to pick her up. Another man jumped up behind them an
d took hold of her ankles and lifted them as well. The three of them carried her
that way to where Principal Armstrong sat on his stool, paddle in hand, shit-ea
ting grin on face, and deposited her over his lap. As she landed, her bare breas
ts bounced beautifully, and no one could miss how perkily erect her nipples had
become.
As soon as her arms were released Mom covered her bare boobs with them. There wa
sn't much else she could do lying belly down across Mr. Armstrong's thighs, pinn
ed in place by his left arm on the small of her back. She looked over her should
er just in time to see the paddle lifted high over the Principal's head. She tos
sed her hair and kicked petulantly while yelling, "No, no, no, OHH!"
The crowd chanted, "ONE!" as the paddle landed with a powerful CRACK! across my
mom's purple butt. The first swat was followed immediately by a second and then
a third. The crowd counted the smacks as they fell. The air was full of the soun
d polished wood against bare behind -- WHACK! SMACK! CRACK! KA-POW! -- the cheer
ful chanting of the crowd -- TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! -- and my nearly naked, tho
roughly humiliated and soundly spanked mom shrieking, "That's enough! OWW! Stop
it! YIEE! No more! OOO! I'm warning you! AIEE!" Of course threats from a woman i
n her position were hardly to be taken seriously.
Principal Armstrong's face was beet red, covered with sweat and wearing
Meg donovan
Paddling Booth 4
Sun May 22, 2011 17:42
69.121.96.23
Principal Armstrong's face was beet red, covered with sweat and wearing a grin t
hat looked bigger than his head. Mom's bruised and blistered butt bounced like c
razy as the paddle was applied to it again and again. She gave up on covering he
r tits and grabbed the legs of the stool with both hands. It looked like she was
trying to push herself up off Mr. Armstrong's lap but was getting nowhere. Our
principal may have been short but he was stout and held her easily in place whil
e he delivered one sizzling swat after another to those bouncing buns. My haples
s mom kicked like a mule, screamed like a banshee and flung her bare tits wildly
to and fro but to no avail. Principal Armstrong was determined to see that she
got the full effect of ten wallops from that punishing board and he carried out
his intent.
Then a voice in the crowd called out "For the charity! I'll give $20 bucks for h
er thong!" The crowd roared, and suddenly a bidding war was on. When the bidding
reached one hundred dollars, the principal announced "I'm sure Darlene would be
happy to help the cause even more." So - as he pressed down on Mom's back, a la
dy nearby on stage quickly grabbed the waistband of Mom'd wedged up panties , an
d - whoosh, away they went, down her legs, past her feet, and tossed to the high
bidder. Mom squealed in protest, but of course she was the one who'd been whini
ng about the wedgie. Now, well, no more wedgie for Mom.
The last five swats fell fast and hard while the crowd dutifully counted them an
d Mom cried, "Let me OW! go you AI! stupid AOO! son of a YIEE! bitch AIEEOWWW!"
All the while her legs kicked wildly, and the audience became very well acquaint
ed with Mom's lower charms. And now the whole neighborhood knew how being spanke
d turned Darlene on, as her 'lips' were very noticably and plainly sopping wet w
ith arousal.

Darlene moaned "Ohhh, my pussy. everyone can see. Cover me." After the last swat
Principal Armstrong did just that, letting his palm come to rest low on Mom's b
utt, then rubbing in little circles lower and lower til his hand came to rest ri
ght on Mom's swollen mound. He began making a speech about the town and about ch
arity and good citizenship, all the while his hand and fingers were caressing an
d exploring Darlene. Folks right in front of the stage would have sworn two of h
is fingers had completely disappeared inside Darlene. But she'd stopped talking
by this point, now just mewing and squirming and humping her hips up and down on
his lap. She could try to fight it, but Darlene knew herself well enough - she
was about to cum a gusher. After a few minutes, Darlene shuddered, squealed and
then moaned.
He let go of her waist then and Mom rolled off his lap to the stage. Then she le
apt to her feet and gave him a swift kick in the shin. He was in such a state of
rapture that he probably didn't feel a thing. Only then did she see the huge we
t spot on his slacks. And Darlene knew they were each partially responsible for
that wet spot. They'd obviously come to a mutual understanding. She then grabbed
her blazing buns with both hands and started hopping up and down repeating, "Oh
, oh, oh," over and over. The crowd burst into wild laughter and applause, some
of the men gave wolf whistles. Mom looked down at her bare, bouncing boobs and w
ent, "EEEK!" She quickly brought both arms up to cover her exposed tits. Her eye
s darted around the dais till they landed on me with a look than could have peel
ed the paint off a pick-up truck. Before I could move she pounced on me like a j
ungle cat, grabbed my T-shirt with both hands and yanked it over my head. With o
ne quick motion she pulled it over her naked upper body. It was short and tight,
the thin white cotton stretched over her boobs like paint and her nips were sti
cking out like thermometers from Thanksgiving turkeys but at least they were cov
ered.
Then she turned to me and said in an icy tone, "Come on. We're going home now."
She stepped off the dais with her nose in the air. Her face was bright red and s
treaked with mascara, her hair was a tangled mess, her tits were perfectly outli
ned by the too-small T-shirt and her behind, which her little shirt failed to co
mpletely cover, was glowing like the burner on a hot plate but she walked throug
h the crowd with a strange kind of dignity and they parted to let her through. B
obby Lee ran up with a big grin and handed her her purse. She snatched it from h
is hands and whomped him over the head with it. I was right behind her and could
n't help giggling, even when she turned around and bonked me with it too.
Since it was a warm day Mom had left the top down on the car. She pulled the key
s out of her purse and tossed it in the back seat. As she opened the driver door
she yanked her big, rose-tinted sunglasses from the windshield visor and slippe
d them on while she was sitting down. When her blistered butt settled onto the s
un-warmed vinyl seat a sound like steam from a teakettle came from between her c
lenched teeth. She was determined not to let anyone see her squirm but as she tu
rned the key and looked out on the long, pothole infested road home she sighed,
"This is going to be an interesting ride." And it was.

Maria
Soccer wager
Sun Jul 31, 2011 04:08
75.30.181.8
Postscript: Well this is my second ENF story with my first being the game show o

ne. I hope you all enjoy. Oh and I'm a girl that enjoys playing tennis so don't
think I', bashing female sports:) Enjoy.
Soccer Wager:
Nina is her High School s star soccer player. She plays in the position of goalkee
per and is known as the Red Wall because of her bright red hair. She has a younger
brother called Mike who isn t known for his athletic ability. Nina spends a lot o
f time ridiculing her younger brother for his lack of athletic achievements.
One weekend Nina was hanging out with three of her soccer mates talking about th
eir strategy on the field. There was the fast moving forward called Gwen with ra
ven black hair and a gothic style, there was Stef a golden haired midfielder, an
d Luna a tough defender known for clearing the ball from the defensive area.
Hey Nina isn t that your loser brother with his loser friends over there? Gwen spoke
in a cruel voice.
Yeah lets go bug them. Nina playfully jogged her way to her brother and his friend
s. Hey losers what you up to?
Hi Nina, what do you want?

Mike asked in an annoyed voice.

We were just wondering what you losers do on a nice Saturday like this, since you
r all so useless in everything. Nina said with a sharp voice.
We are just hanging out Mike spoke with an annoyed voice that conveyed the message
that he wanted Nina and her friends to leave him alone for once.
Hanging out huh? I guess that is what useless folk do on a nice Saturday like thi
s. Gwen said as she sneakily tripped Mike s friend called Jimmy Oh sorry Jimmy I gue
ss losers can t face gravity hahahahaaa.
Haha how could I be related to someone so useless, you really are good at nothing
Mike. Nina laughed as she spoke and Mike helped his friend Jimmy up.
Yeah well .your only good at girl soccer.
ts.

Mike said as a retort to the constant taun

Whats that you little dork, I m only good at girl soccer huh? Mike s 3 friends looked
on in terror as Nina spoke in a wrathful voice. That sounds like you dorks want
to challenge us. Lets see I have 3 friends here and you have 3 friends, why don t
we test your theory on girl soccer and have us girls kick your dork s butts!
Mike grew angry at the constant taunts. Fine! Lets see who wins, even though we a
re Middle School boys and you are High School girls we will still win, because b
oys are better than girls at sports! Mike s 3 friends started to shake in terror as
Nina s face was utterly full of vexation and wrath.
I m going to enjoy beating your loser dork butt! But since your so sure that boys a
re better at sports lets make a little wager, if our team scored the first goal
you little boys have to play the rest of the game in your tighty whities, and if
which wont happen your team scores first we play the rest of the game in our br
a and undies. Nina gave a cruel smile as she saw Mike and his friends quiver in w
orry and Gwen gave off a witch like laugh.
Mike s face was filled with shock, he didn t want these girls to see him humiliated
in his tighty whities, beaten by girls. But his face quickly turned to resolve Fi
ne lets get this started.
Gwen pushed Jimmy back to the ground.
favorite superheroes are!

Hahaha grand, I guess we will see what your

Jimmy looked up at Gwen with a mixture of confusion and anger

What do you mean?

Well I m sure your all wearing childish superhero themed undies.


gain as she pushed Jimmy back down.

Gwen laughed once a

The group of eight set off to the nearest park and they set up to play a game of
soccer. Nina in goal, Luna in defense, Stef in midfield, and Gwen in offense. F
or the boys Jimmy in goal, Tom in defense, Juan in midfield, and Mike in offense
.
Oh poor Miky you wont even get a chance to get the ball haha, wonder which undies
your wearing today. Nina said with a sly smile.
Oh well you know Nina, you never faced boys in soccer, your about to be taught a
lesson on gender differences.
Whatever tighty whittie Mike, im the Red Wall, and your tighty whittie Mike hahah
a.
The game started and the girls took to the game much quicker. Stefy controlled t
he midfield and passed to Gwen who shot at goal but Jimmy blocked. Psht pure luck
that block .I say your wearing Spiderman undies ..am I right Jimmy boy? Gwen gave of
f her witchy laugh once again.
Jimmy kicked the ball out and Juan gained control and passed it to Mile who shot
wide. Is that the best you got tighty whity Mike haha?
A crowd began to gather around the game and pretty much everyone from the Middle
School and High School were there which included a boy that Nina had a crush on
. This made Nina blush a little thinking about the tiny possibility of him seein
g her strip to her undergarments today, but she pushed that out of her mind, it
was her brother who would be taught a lesson in humiliation, because that was he
r specialty.
Gwen had many more opportunities to score but she kept on missing which caused h
er to get frustrated. Not as good as you thought you were are you girly Gwen? Jimm
y said with a smile on his face.
Gwen and Jimmy started to argue in anger while Nina tried to yell out orders to
Gwen to calm down. Juan took opportunity and passed to Mike past Luna. Nina glar
ed at Mike as he approached full speed, she knew she could block her weakling li
ttle brother. Mike went right then left then kicked right, Nina jumped towards t
he ball but she was not quick enough as the ball slipped past and Nina dived int
o the mud. Gwen stared back with her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide in shoc
k as the four boys celebrated their victory.
Nina was in utter disbelief as she realized her useless younger brother who she
constantly mocked had just scored against her. She stood there not being able to
understand as the boys in the crowd went wild in celebration.
Well girls, pay up lets see some undies wooo!
anced at her crush and blushed crimson red.

Jimmy screamed in triumph as Nina gl

Luna was first to strip and she did it quickly without a second thought to revea
l a zebra bra and panty set and she shrugged as the crowd gave applause.
Gwen looked left and right in terror but found no safety as Jimmy pushed her to
the center of the field Give us a show gothy.
Gwen blushed a deep red as she took her shirt off to reveal a pink bra. She then

took off her shorts to reveal Batgirl themed underoos that said Girl Power on the
butt. The crowd went into an uproar of laughter seeing these humiliating undies
on Gwen. Haha guess you re the one wearing childish undies Batgirl! Jimmy screamed
and Gwen blushed and looked straight down in humiliation.
Stefy was next and she revealed plain white bra and panties and gave a little da
nce which caused the crowd to go wild. This left only Nina fully clothed among t
he girls. Well sis show us what you got. It appeared like fumes were coming out of
Nina s ears as she looked at her little brother. She threw off her shirt and shor
ts to reveal red and black polka dots on her undergarments with the words Ginger
Power on her backside. She growled at Mike in vexation but then noticed that her
crush was staring at her undies clad body and she tried to cover up and squirmed
like a little girl which caused the four boys to laugh in triumph.
You got lucky Mike! You know I m better than you!
Silly girly girl.

Nina screamed.

Me .a girly girl? How about this, the loser of this game gets bare bottomed spanked
by the victor, this bet is for you and me Mike! I m going to spank your bottom ra
w for this humiliation!
Fine and you ll lose again girly girl.
Gwen looked straight down in humiliation but Nina shouted at her to get back int
o the game and win this for all the girls out in the crowd. This pumped Gwen up
and once Stefy gave her a pass Gwen was able to kick the ball past Jimmy and tie
the score up.
HAAA Got you dork!

Gwen screamed in triumph.

I think your undies are riding up Batgirl.


as she picked her wedgie out of her butt.

Jimmy said and Gwen blushed in despair

You know what dork, now that I got my scoring game on lets match the spanking bet
hahahahaha, come on chicken lets do it!
Fine! I ve had enough of your insults batgirl! Jimmy screamed out which pumped him u
p and he was able to block Gwen s next three attempts at goal. The game continued
with the girls pressuring for the victory goal but with said goal being elusive.
Luna kicked the ball to Stefy who kicked it to Gwen who faced off with Jimmy an
d she secretly punched him in the balls which let her swerve past Jimmy, then sh
e saw the goal, nothing between her and victory, Gwen would be the star and win
it for the girls she ran as her undie clad butt jiggled a little in triumph, but
she felt a sudden sharp pain up her rear as in desperation Jimmy grabbed Gwen b
y the waistband of her Batgirl undies and lifted her all the way over him an she
crashed behind him giving the crowd a good view of her pale butt as the wedgie
made the underwear practically a thong. Gwen screamed in a mixture of pain and h
umiliation for being given such a thorough wedgie by a dork who whispered That s fo
r hurting the family jewels Batgirl.
But Gwen now had a penalty shot which she knew she would make it in. She stared
at Jimmy in pure unresolved hatred as she picked her wedgie and couldn t wait to g
ive him a spanking he would never forget in his dorky life. Gwen kicked with all
her might but Jimmy blocked with his fist and the ball sped all the way to Mike
who ran full speed towards Nina who watched in wide eyed disbelief. Her little
brother came at her and she couldn t react, the look of wild resolved on Mikes fac
e terrified Nina. Mike kicked and Nina went for the save but she was left in the
mud with the ball passing her. Nina was in utter shock and tears streamed down
her face as she realized the game was over and her little dorky brother had defe
ated her in her own game.

Stefy and Luna shrugged and posed for some cute undies pics while Gwen just stoo
d in wide eyed shock looking at the goal she failed to make in the penalty, she
was in utter disbelief of what had just happened. She had to get out of here, if
everybody saw her get bare bottom spanked by a dorky Middle School student she
would be the butt of every joke for the rest of her life. She couldn t stand that,
she made a run for it but the crowd intercepted. She flayed and screamed in ter
ror as the crowd brought her back, and as punishment for not keeping her word th
e crowd removed her bra and panties revealing all of her pale skin to everyone.
She screamed and pleaded in utter humiliation as she tried to cover everything.
Gwen was given to Jimmy with tears and snot covering her face and she begged Jim
my for mercy but she was put across his knee and he gave her a thorough spanking
that she would never forget as people took pictures and videos from their cellp
hones which would no doubt make their way to youtube to the complete and utter h
umiliation of Gwen who had lost all honor after failing to score for the girls a
nd begging like a coward as her pale bottom was turned bright read and uploaded
to cyberspace.
Nina gulped and meekly made her way to her little brother. Little bro, I know im
a little rough on you, but we are blood, and you wouldn t do that to me would you.
Im your sister and we are family. Nina gave a weak smile.
Mike overpowered Nina and put her across his knee and pulled her panties down to
expose a pale freckled bottom as Nina kicked and screamed in futile desperation
with Mike in total control. This is for all the humiliation you have given me Ni
na throughout our childhood, throughout school, you ve taunted me all my years and
made fun of me, now its payback big sis . Nina screamed in terror as Mike gave her
bottom a thorough spanking which was more of a pounding as her bottom jiggled t
hat way and the other revealing everything to the cheering crowd which were taki
ng pictures and videos of Nina s ultimate downfall from glory. She squirmed like a
little girl as she saw her crush taking a video of her exposed bottom which was
so red by then that you couldn t see the freckles anymore and it matched her hair
. Her crush later uploaded that video and titled it Chick gets what was comin to
her.
After this Gwen s nickname was forever changed to Ginger Butt and Gwen s was changed t
o Cowardly Pale Bottom and their pictures were posted all over school the Monday t
hey went back to the merriment of the student body and laughed at them for weeks
while they looked straight down in humiliation and utter disbelief, while Mike
became a Middle School hero and was nicknamed David the slayer of Giantesses.

This story was inspired by a similar posting I read on one of the


groups. It features the non-consensual spanking of a teenage girl by
a younger boy. If you find this offensive then you are certainly in
the wrong place. To the regular visitors here I would say that I
think you will enjoy this one. Let me know what you think.
Eleven year old Adam Hunt was not at all happy that his Mom had gotten
him a babysitter on this particular evening. Even worse was the fact
that the babysitter she had chosen was barely four years older then
him and a GIRL. She probably thought she was really hot dressed as
she was in a white cotton top and red shorts. It wouldn't have been
so bad if it had been an older guy, then he could have had a little
more fun. He was pretty sure it was going to be a lousy evening.
Fifteen year old Amanda Richards, his appointed babysitter, was also
quite pissed off at having to put up with a little brat for the whole
evening. She would much rather have gone on a date with her new

boyfriend whom she had met in High School. Her mother had however
insisted that she take this job. It would teach her something about
responsibility. She supposed that she could put up with this pre-teen
prick for a few hours providing he kept out of her way and did nothing
to make her angry. Young Adam felt exactly the same way about her.
So after Jill Hunt had departed the large house and drove into town
for the town hall meeting that she was to attend, Adam and Amanda were
left in each others company until about eleven o'clock that night.
The boy passed the time away by playing his video games in the privacy
of his room while his inexperienced babysitter spent much of it
talking to her boyfriend on the phone, telling him how much she wished
she was with him. She been warned not to make excessive use of the
phone but she ignored this. If her employer could afford this big
house and to pay her $10 an hour for keeping an eye on her bratty
little son then she could afford the phone bills too.
For most of that evening the eleven year old boy and the adolesent
girl each did their best to avoid the other. About nine thirty Amanda
told her young charge that he had to be in bed by ten o'clock as were
his mother's instructions but he replied that his Mom had decided to
make it ten thirty instead. His young babysitter retorted, "She did
not say that, not to me anyway! All I know is what she told me so why
should I believe a little liar like you!"
"Well, that's what she told me before she left so ten thirty it's
gonna be and don't call me a liar again!"
The girl was losing patience now. "Look, you little jerk, if you
think I enjoy wet nursing you all night you're crazy. There are a lot
of other things I'd rather be doing but since your Mom is paying me to
be in charge that's what I am and you have to do as I tell you, okay!"
Adam just laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet you'd rather your boyfriend was
screwing you but he's not here to protect you now, missy, so you
better quit trying to order me around."
Amanda was getting really mad now. "You think I need protection from
a little bastard like you. If you don't do as you're told very soon I
just might take a notion to pull down your pants and spank your bare
ass hard. I've spanked my young brother, you know, and he's just the
same age and size you are and he often gets on my fucking nerves just
like you are now. Your mother said she has to spank you sometimes."
"Yeah, well you're not my Mom so you better not try it. Nobody spanks
me except her. I'm warning you, Amanda!"
The teenager was really fuming now. He was warning HER! "Don't try
to defy me, Adam, I'm warning YOU! I'm more then capable of giving
you a good thrashing and I will if you're not in bed when I tell you
to be, right!"
"If you try to spank me you'll regret it, you stupid girl, so just
leave me alone, okay!"
Amanda's patience was at an end now. "You've asked for it and you're
gonna get it!" She made a move to grab the boy but he quickly moved
out of the way. Soon he was standing on the other side of the living
room facing her. There was a confident look on his face.

"Tell you what, Mandy," he said, "let's play a game. If you can
catch me you can spank me but it won't be easy, this is a big old
house and I know all the hiding places. Let's hear you count to
three." Against her better judgement Amanda agreed to play this silly
game.
She closed her eyes and began counting. Then she opened them again
and began her search for her little tormenter. He's really for it
when I get hold of him! she was thinking. She spent the next fifteen
minutes looking in all the rooms of the house and there was no sign of
him. He obviously knew how to hide. As she came out of one of the
bedrooms and made her way along the upstairs passageway she suddenly
felt a sharp smack on her bottom which made her cry out. Then young
Adam ran right past her, making his way down the stairs. As he did so
he called to her, "Nice ass you've got, babe! Maybe I should give YOU
a good spanking!" He was clearly taunting her now.
After she had chased him down the stairs and into the kitchen the boy
suddenly stopped running and turned to face her. His arms were folded
in front of him. He was clearly standing his ground now. There was a
warning expression on his face. He told her, "As I said, Amanda, I go
to bed at ten thirty and that's it. Just let it go, okay! Go talk to
your boyfriend again on the phone. Don't try to spank me or you'll be
sorry."
"The only one who's going to be sorry is you, you little asshole!"
She knew that she could not back down. She had to let him know who
was in charge. She was older then him and had a few inches in height
on him. He had not obeyed her so now he had to suffer the
consequences. Soon she was standing right in front of him and then
the two of them began to wrestle. To Amanda's surprise the younger
kid was more then a match for her in strength. For several seconds
they were both locked in combat. Then Adam began to get the upper
hand. He managed to spin the older girl around and then pinned her
arm behind her back. He then put his other arm around her neck and
held her in an arm and headlock.
The young babysitter knew that she was helpless now. She had been
overpowered by an eleven year old boy. Now she was totally at his
mercy. He began to drag her backwards into the living room. Her
struggles were futile. Soon Adam had forcefully brought her into the
large room and then dragged her to a high backed chair which sat in
the corner. He released her for just a moment so as to sit himself
down on it. Next thing the outraged teenage girl knew she had been
hauled clear across his lap. She knew now that he was going do to her
what she had been threatening to do to him.
"Adam, please let me go, I'm sorry. Please don't do this to me!" But
her pleas were falling on deaf ears. The precocious brat began to tug
down her shorts and panties at the same time and soon they were lying
on the thickly carpeted floor. Now her bare teenage bottom sat in the
centre of the young boy's lap waiting for the spanking she had been
promising to give him not so long ago. Adam was the one in charge now
and there was not a thing she could do about it.
"I warned you not to try and spank me, girl!" he said as he raised his
palm. "Now I'm gonna have to do it to you. After all those phone
calls to your boyfriend I think you deserve it anyway but don't
worry. I won't let my Mom know because I sort of like you. Still,
I'm gonna give you a spanking you won't ever forget. You shouldn't

mess with me."


The next five minutes were the most painful of Amanda's life. Adam
brought his hand down time and time again to her buttock cheeks with
surprising power for a small boy. The colour of her backside rapidly
changed from white to pink and then deep red. The girl began to cry
and begged him to stop but still he kept delivering hard spanks.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
Finally her 'punishment' was over. The boy let her off his lap but
then he told her, "You've been a very bad girl, Amanda. Get your
teenage behind in the corner until I say you can come out. If you
move one inch you'll be back over my knee for some more, got it!" The
unfortunate lass now knew better then to disobey him and just kept on
crying for several minutes as she stood in the corner with her sore
and swollen backside on full display. Adam felt very satisfied with
the way he had humiliated the older girl and reduced her to a cry
baby. She had been well and truly put in her place. He wished he
could do the same to a few more teenage girls.
After twenty minutes Amanda was allowed out of her corner and got
dressed again, her bottom still quite sore. Adam was in bed by the
time his mother returned. She paid the teenager $50 for taking good
care of her son. She noticed the girl putting her hand to her rear
while grimacing and asked her what was wrong. Amanda replied that she
had run a bath for herself earlier that evening and didn't realise how
hot the water was.
She did not want anyone finding out what had really happened on that
day. She did however inform Jill that her son was a little late in
getting to bed despite having been told to be there by ten so Adam
himself was spanked the following day. So Amanda did get revenge to
some extent, the little bastard got what he needed after all. She
never babysat for that particular family again.
THE END
Carol was babysitting little tommy Taylor for the first time. Tommy
lived with his eighteen-year-old brother Bruce, who had to work to
support them both since a drunk driver deprived them of their parents.
Carol knew of Bruce, and had actually graduated with him from High
School, so, she wasn't too shocked when asked to sit.
Tommy, on the other hand, had other ideas. He knew how little money
Bruce could make and it rankled Tommy that Bruce dished out good hardearned money for others to watch him all day. Tommy, at ten, could
take care of himself, and the heck to what the social worker had said!
Unbeknownst to Carol, her babysitting day was doomed from the start.
Tommy did just about everything he could to cause trouble that day,
from spilling the orange juice, pulling the cat's tail, breaking a
lamp, and finally swearing at Carol, calling her the "C" word, which
Carol hated. It was so base, vile and crass.
When Carol warned Tommy to stop using that word, Tommy knew he had hit
a nerve, so he began to shout it repeatedly. In spite of Carol's
warnings , he just kept shouting
that awful word. Carol freaked and started to chase Tommy through the

apartment.
Tommy made it to his room and quickly scrambled under his bed. When
Tommy refused to budge, Carol went in after him, just as Tommy
planned. He quickly scooted out the other side, jumped up and onto the
bed and reached the other side just in time to catch Catch Carol half
under the bed. Tommy grabbed his set of play police cuffs and hooked
them through Carol's belt loop and hooked the other side to the bed
frame.
She couldn't believe it, but she was stuck! Tommy knew he had her just
where he wanted her. Without a word he walked over to his desk and
picked up the ping-pong paddle that was his brother's momento of his
years on the ping-pong team.
Carol couldn't see what was going on, but when that paddle wacked her
upturned and imprisoned backside, she involuntarily let out a yelp.
That paddle hurt, and that kid was going at it like he had a mission!
Carol's threats to Tommy soon broke down to sobbing and begging as
Tommy continued his barrage of swats. Fearing she would soon pass out
from the pain, Carol realized that all that held her in place were her
pants. So, though struggling to keep her composure as swat followed
swat, Carol managed to unbuckle her belt, and unbutton her pants. One
she felt the looseness of her shorts, she scrambled forward under the
bed as fast as she could.
He escape was quick and almost successful. The problem, once her
shorts descended down to her ankles, they got stuck there. Worse,
Carol's panty-covered bottom had just cleared the protection of the
bed, but she was stuck fast from any further forward motion.
Tommy saw his second chance and jumped down and sat all of his weight
upon Carol's upper back. Though Tommy wasn't that heavy, his weight
and the continued application of that paddle to her heiney kept her
immobilized and screaming for help.
"Ever had a wedgie, Carol?"
"N-nooooo-iiiieeeeeeeeee!" as her panties were pulled up her back by
the leg holes. Tommy took a quick glance at the progress his paddle
had done in coloring her backside, and impressed by the results,
redoubled his efforts. Afterall, he reasoned, what good is a
babysitter that can't sit?
Tommy accomplished his goal, leaving a very vanquished babysitter,
almost bare and sobbing under his bed. A half-hour later, feeling a
little bad for the weeping girl , he undid the cuffs.
It took Carol a good half hour to pull herself together. Tommy was
certain she would leave, and his plan would succeed, but, just then
Carol reacted with instant anger and a face that spoke a message of
vengeance. Tommy ran, but, this time Carol was ready for him. She
grabbed him, and his padlle, and sat down to administer some overdue
justice.
The paddle had probably landed all of three times, but Tommy was
screaming like he was being killed. Just then, the front door banged
open and in walks a very anxious Bruce.

Carol jumped as the door flew open with a loud smack. Tommy rolled to
the floor, and immediately started the "fake cry of fake cries"!
Moreover, as he got up, he shifted his hands down his shorts and
yanked his own clothing down around his ankles.
Bruce was too confused and staring at Carol, paddle in hand, to
realize his little brother's ruse. Bruce took one look at his brother
standing there, bare-bottomed, looked at Carol, still seated and
holding the paddle, put two and two together, and Carol paid for the
sum he had calculated.
A half hour later, the Zach apartment door flew open with a bang.
Carol literally flew down the hall, slamming her bedroom door and
locking it, before breaking into uncontrollable sobbing.
Carol's twenty-year-old sister, Heather, heard it all, and tried to
get into Carol's bedroom door, but Carol would not respond other than
to yell, :GO AWAY!" and resume sobbing as though she had lost her best
friend.
Heather tried, in vain for almost an hour to get Carol to at least
talk, but was rewarded with sobs. Tiring of the fight, Heather got the
one key they had that opened their doors.
Noone, other than Heather, knew that there was such a key, but Heather
was desperate, so she quietly unlocked Carol's door.
There before her very eyes , her sister was prostate across her own
bed, Carol's pants and panties were pulled down, and a very crimson
heiney was left , obviously cooling in the Apartment AC.
"My gawd, Carol! Who did this to you?"
It took some coaxing, but Carol finally relayed the whole chain of
events, right down to her humiliating and very painful bare-bottomed
paddling across Bruce's lap.
Heather was angry. No, she was pissed! She got some ice for Carol's
bottom, and after soothing her sister's sobs until Carol was finally
asleep, Heather went to confront their heavy-handed neighbor boy!
Heather kept her cool, even after Bruce invited her in to talk, and
offered. " Hey, sorry for bustin your sister's ass!"
"Well, that's what I came to talk about, you see, just what gives you
the right...
Well the conversation went quickly downhill from there. What capped
off the conversation other than Heather's ill-conceived threat to call
immigration (obviously calling into question his Hispanic background
and parentage) was her threatening to call Social Services and explain
that Bruce must certainly be an abuser.
Fear of potentially losing Tommy sent Bruce off, and next thing
Heather knew, she was being taught never, to, as he put, "Write a
check,that you couldn't cash!" She really didn't understand what he
meant by that, but the paddle on her now bared behind certainly was
telling her something, "Next time, keep your big mouth shut!"
Almost an hour later, despite standing in his living room corner,
bottom bared and blistered, for almost a full half hour, Heather

limped home sobbing like a lost child, gently rubbing her heiney with
one hand, holding her discarded panties in the other. Just as she was
about to dig painfully into her short's pocket for the key, she bumped
into her mom.
Well, it took less than three minutes to spill her guts, and mom was
off. Heather, meanwhile, made her way past Carols's room, the sound of
sniffling meant that sis had awoken, and was still upset.
Nevertheless, Heather kept walking till she got into her own room,
slammed the door and locked it as Carol had done earlier. She quickly
peeled down her shorts, threw herself across her bed and broke into
the worst sobbing cry of her entire life!
What must have been almost two hours later, as Heather was just about
to doze off, she heard the apartment door slam. She heard her mom
sobbing all the way down the hall, the slam of her bedroom door, and
the subsequest crying that seemed to be part and parcel of the
ambiance in their little home that day!
Heather probably should have gone to her mother and offered some
soothing support, but Heather was too wiped out from all my crying.
Worse, not moving for over an hour, she was too sore to even attempt
to stand or walk
To the sound of three Zach women weeping, they all fell off to sleep.
The buzz of the front door dragged Heather out of a painfilled, crazy
nighmare, and she eventually realized that someone was at the door and
answered it.. There stood Bruce and Tommy( with ping pong paddle in
hand!).
They walked in , uninvited, and Bruce handed Heather something.
"Here, your mother left these last night!' "She was shocked to see it
was her mother's panties.
"Look, he went on, " as I discussed with your mother , last night,
Tommy here is gonna babysit you three for the next few weeks. You're
gonna pay him two-bucks an-hour, and HE is going to be in charge!"
"What?, What are you talking about?"
"Like I said, starting today, Tommy is going to babysit you three when
you're home. Until I come home at night, YOU are HIS responsibility!
Got it? That means, what HE says GOES! Got it?"
"Like I told your mom, unless you
being an abusive pedophile, you'd
Tommy's orders. I'm going to call
you don't want me to have to come

want your little Carol arrested for


best shape up and follow my and
from time to time, and believe me,
home! Understand?"

All Heather could do was stand there, her mother's panties in one
hand, her other absentmindedly rubbing her sore fanny. Heather's eyes
were glued to that damn ping pong paddle, and a tear was forming that
she feared would soon become another deluge.
She slowly nodded her head, and Bruce turned and left, rubbing Tommy's
head as he went by and adding, "Remember, Tommy, you are the man of
the house! I expect you to take care of these three little brats. Have
a great day!"

Tommy looked so proud!


"Just what has Carol gotten us into?"
Time, and a little fly on their wall, would tell!
It had only been two weeks since Steve, my husband had gone to work in Australia
for a whole year. Already I missed him and hated living on my own. We had only
been married for a few months and moved several hundred miles away from my paren
ts because of his stupid job and now I was stuck here alone.
To be fair the small village in North Yorkshire was lovely and unlike London whe
re I grew up everyone was very friendly even if they did consider us both to be p
osh southerners . We had rented a small cottage which was one of a row of three. T
he first was occupied by a single mum called Susan and her son Ryan who was 13.
We had the middle one and the last was mainly used a holiday home.
I managed
for that
ng a full
be worth

to get a job working in a bank in the nearest town and if it hadn t been
I would have gone home to my parents right away. The thought of spendi
year on my own was not pleasant but I knew the financial rewards would
it when Steve returned.

I was out in the garden on Sunday when Susan brought me out a cup of tea, which
was just an excuse to question me on why she hadn t seen Steve for a while. I expl
ained the situation and she smiled and commented that I would have to behave as
being newly married with an absent husband might be a temptation for some of the
local men.
I quickly tried to change the conversation and asked how Ryan was doing at schoo
l. She looked concerned and told me how he was quite cleaver and such but didn t s
eem to mix very well and didn t have many friends. Part of the problem seemed to b
e that he wasn t very assertive and she admitted that she was over protective. She
then laughed that one of his teachers had suggested it would help him if he fou
nd a babysitting job or similar to give him a sense of responsibility. Unfortuna
tely she didn t know anyone with small children as most of the villages were a bit
on the elderly side.
Without thinking I agreed that looking after a small child would improve his ass
ertiveness remembering how looking after my small cousins certainly taught me a
think or two. I then went on to ask if he would like to do some gardening work f
or me and giggled that it always helps to have a man around the house.
She looked amused then smiled Oh Alison your not saying you need a babysitter to
keep an eye on you are you . I blushed instantly and protested that was not of cou
rse what I meant but none the less found myself agreeing to make him tea the nex
t day and discuss how he could help.
In the morning I felt nervous at work and couldn t seem to get the word Babysitter o
ut of my mind. A few of my colleagues asked if I was alright as I seemed to be i
n a world of my own. I decided to buy a nice steak and make the effort to make h
im a really nice meal and simply explain that it was just cutting the lawn and a
few odd jobs around the house .
The doorbell rang and I had butterflies in my tummy as I opened the door to ushe
r him inside. He gazed wide eyed and looked me up and down making me blush sligh
tly. Errr thank you for asking me round for tea Mrs Jenkins , he stammered. I smoot
hed down the front of my short lemon summer dress and led him into the kitchen.
I could see he was a little shy and it was quite awkward engaging in conversatio
n but slowly he began to relax and said how good he was a cutting the grass and

it would be great to earn some pocket money. He seemed very grateful for the ste
ak adding that it made a change from the egg and chips he usually had.
I opened a bottle of wine and even gave him a glass, all be it diluted with some
lemonade. We were soon openly chatting and getting along quite well. I even beg
an to tell him how much I didn t like being on my own and would enjoy his company
more often.
I could sense him become more confident then he suppressed a giggle, Mum said it
might be like I am babysitting you Mrs Jenkins . I could feel my face turn red as
I answered rather rudely that his Mum was just being silly after all I was 27 an
d over twice his age.
He sat quietly, looking upset for a few minutes then mumbled that he knew I was
a lot older but his Mum had told him I would allow him to be in charge so to spe
ak to try and help him get used to making decisions and be responsible and so on
. He then got up to leave and continued to say that he knew I didn t want to be he
lpful and was sorry to be any trouble.
I felt guilty and without hesitating asked him to sit back down and maybe I had
misunderstood. Whether it was the wine or some insane mind block I found myself
agreeing to him actually being in charge of me and he could treat me as if I was
a little girl.
I could feel a shiver run through me as I said the words little girl out loud. The
look on his face was a mixture of surprise and amusement and I felt speechless
at what I was suggesting.
Well Mrs Jenkins I think you ought to clear away all these dishes and then you ca
n get ready for bed , the tone of his voice was firm but still with a hint of the
surreal amusement of the situation. I took a gulp of the remaining wine in my gl
ass and stood up to tidy the kitchen. He looked pleased with the way I was doing
as he said.
I glanced at the clock and could hardly believe I was about to go and get ready
for bed at 7.30 under the instruction of a 13 year old boy. I turned to look at
him and hesitated, Have I got to get ready for bed right this minute Ryan , the wor
ds out of my mouth felt like someone else had said them and I could only imagine
how childish I must sound.
He grinned a wide amused smile Yes Alison right this minute, I think its better i
f I call you Alison isn t it , he added. I sensed he could hardly contain laughing o
ut loud as I hurried up to my room.
I felt numb and dizzy as I got undressed and thought I would just let him see me
in my pyjamas and pretend he had sent me to bed and he would go home happy. I c
aught a glimpse of my self stark naked in the mirror and for some unknown reason
decided to pick out a rather short sleep tee . which is just like a slightly longe
r T-shirt made to wear for bed.
It was white with a big pink bunny rabbit on the front and Steve had said how he
never liked it as it made me look about 10. I thought it was perfect and wander
ed back down to the kitchen with almost a thrill at letting Ryan see me like thi
s.
He looked delighted and motioned with his hand for me to turn around Lets have a
proper look young lady . I twirled round a little quicker than I intended and felt
the hem flip up slightly and panicked wondering if he had seen a brief flash of
my bottom as I hadn t worn anything underneath.

His face didn t give anything away as he said how it was very suitable for a littl
e girl and how pleased he was that I knew my place. I couldn t think of anything t
o say and nervously held my hands together in front of me and just nodded my hea
d.
I was almost convinced that it must be some sort of dream as he told me he had t
o be home by 8 0-clock so he better put me in bed before he went. I shuddered as
he took my hand and led me up to my room, I could only be thankful that at leas
t he went upstairs first otherwise he would have had a view to remember.
We walked into my room and I blushed as I realised I had left all my clothes in
an untidy pile on the floor. He pointed and asked where they ought to be and I m
eekly looked over to the laundry basket and felt like a real child getting told
off for having her room a mess.
I held my sleep tee down to try and keep myself covered and quickly picked the c
lothes up trying to hide my bra and knickers from his gaze feeling so embarrasse
d. He ignored me and pulled closed the curtains and turned back my duvet.
I was about to climb in bed when he stopped me. Have you been to the bathroom yo
ung lady, he asked as if it was an everyday occurrence he got to put a grown wom
an in bed. I shook my head and nervously muttered no. You must need a wee after a
ll that wine surely he smiled at my discomfort.
Again I was too ashamed to speak and could only nod as he spun me round with his
hand on my shoulder and then with his other hand gave me a gentle pat on my bot
tom. Off you go then my girl he stifled a snigger as I was mortified to be called
y girl let alone his blatant hand on my bottom.
I went to the bathroom trying to be as quiet as possible and walked back to my b
edroom holding my hands together and looking down at the floor and then at the r
ings on my finger reminding me that I am married woman behaving more like a 6 ye
ar old girl.
Mrs Jenkins! Is that really necessary he looked in surprise. I stopped and then ca
ught my reflection in the mirror, my sleep tee was up around my waist clearly sh
owing Ryan my dark brown bush shaved in to a neat Brazilian. I gasped in horror
noticing a strand of cotton had caught around my engagement ring and in an attem
pt to free it managed to lift the garment even higher.
After what seemed for ever it was untangled and I eagerly said how sorry I was a
nd it was just an accident. My face was bright red as I looked down in utter sha
me. Go and stand in the corner you naughty little girl he barked at me.
Without even a thought of refusing I marched quickly over and faced the wall. Now
you can lift it up properly and show me that naughty bottom I am going to smack .
I turned and shook my head and for the first time began to refuse to carry on t
his bizarre charade.
He could sense my protest and
f you haven t got that bottom
have been . I shivered at the
his and trying to explain how

walked to wards the door I ll count to three Alison i


on show I m going to tell my Mum just how naughty you
thought of Susan knowing how I gone along with all t
I didn t mean to display myself to her son.

He hadn t even got to 2 when I eased the hem right up high to stand bare bottomed
in the corner.
SMACK
SMACK

He delivered two really hard stinging slaps to each bum cheek and laughed that h
e had to go home now and he would deal with me properly tomorrow evening.
Karen Emerson never thought Spank Night would be more humiliating without her da
ughters present. For almost ten years, she and her two daughters, Madeline and
Caroline would line up on the wall every Friday and confess any sins to Jamie, t
he live in babysitter. Jamie would make all three wait with their pants or skir
ts removed and holding their paddles while they waited for a turn across her kne
e. The extent of their misbehavior determined the severity of their punishment.
In rare instances, one of them would get away a warning, but they were usually
lucky to get away with a maintenance spanking.
The Emerson girls accepted their almost weekly smackings as the price to pay
for a well run household. Compared to a session with the paddle or switch, a s
tinger over Jamie s knee was a victory. Karen knew she was in for more than a rem
inder spanking, which prompted her to utter a foolish plea.
You know, Jamie, I was thinking since both girls are gone, we don t have to do
Friday confessions anymore, Karen suggested. Her voice came out unsteady, shakin
g with her confidence. She found it hard to muster a strong stance without her
skirt covering her pantyhose and panties.
Karen, didn t we discuss this last week? The 27 year old asked her.
I-I guess so. I mean, we didn t really discuss Spank Night. We just
Jamie cut her off.
Karen swallowed.
your job.

What did we say last week?


We said that if you are living here and being paid, you ll do

And what is my job?


Taking care of the household.
And that means taking care of you and the girls, doesn t it?
Yes, ma am.

Karen admitted.

And what happens when one of my girls are bad?

Jamie asked.

You spank them.


And are you one of my girls?
Yes, ma am,

the 43 year old answered reluctantly.

And have you been bad?


Yes, ma am.
And what does that have to do with Maddy and Carol going off to school and mo
ving out?
Nothing, ma am.
Then I suggest you get your bottom over my knee. You re getting a spanking bef
ore we even figure out how long your paddling is going to be, understood?

Yes, ma am.
Karen walked over, paddle still in hand and laid herself across the
younger woman s lap. She closed her eyes as she felt the familiar feeling of Jam
ie s hands pulling down her pantyhose. Friday night confessions took place as soo
n as Karen arrived home from work, so she always had her office clothes on befor
e Jamie bared her bottom.
The first hard slap came down on the seat of her lace panties and Karen thou
ght back to how it all began. Karen hired Jamie just as she was finishing high
school. Caroline was fourteen and Madeline was eleven. Caroline didn t like it,
but Karen gave Jamie permission to spank the girls if they became too unruly. J
amie proved trustworthy after a few months and Karen didn t like having to punish
the girls herself.
Things went well in the household for months and during the first summer, Ka
ren invited Jamie to sleep over the house whenever necessary. Since the girls w
ere home all day, they needed more supervision and the arrangement worked out fo
r everyone. Though the girls didn t like being spanked, they did grow to like Jam
ie very much. They looked up to her and obeyed her more quickly than they did t
heir own mother. Karen noticed the shift, but didn t mind. Jamie played the heav
y while she got to do all of the fun things with the girls. If she had extra wo
rk to do, she could rely on Jamie to keep her daughters from bothering her.
With the extra pay and hours, it made sense for Jamie to take care of the ho
usehold duties as well as Maddy and Carol. She didn t become a housekeeper, but s
he organized the chores for everyone, Karen included. She didn t enforce Karen s ch
ores at first, but things soon went in that direction. Jamie helped out and did
her share, and the fear of a smacked backside kept the girls on top of their ch
ores. By midsummer, Karen s lack of participation became obvious to everyone. Ja
mie brought it up a few times and Karen always promised to do better, but rarely
put forth an effort.
Things came to a head one day when everyone slacked off. After Karen left f
or work in the morning, Carol decided she had to sneak off with a boy and Maddy
spent the entire morning at the neighbor s pool. When she returned she didn t want
to shower, much less be the only person doing chores, so Jamie pulled down her s
wimsuit bottoms and gave her firm encouragement to do as she was told. Carol re
turned from her date only a few hours before Karen came home. Along with her ch
ores, staying out without calling and not telling Jamie where she d been, Carol ad
ded a healthy dose of backtalk to her list of infractions. Jamie took her fello
w teen across the knee and spanked the rebellion out of her. Carol was on the v
erge of tears before she had to fetch the hairbrush, but was too cowed to resist
the order. With great reluctance she retrieved the implement and gave it to he
r 18 year old babysitter and took her worst bare bottomed spanking of the year.
Both girls completed their chores like professionals. Jamie only allowed th
em to t-shirts and panties, so when they bent over she was rewarded with the sig
ht of their red bottoms as they repented for their sins. The house was in order
save for the groceries Karen had to pick up. When she arrived later that night
, she didn t bring the food, but Jamie was too tired to scold her for it. She and
the girls had a long day and she decided to remind Karen as she went to work th
e next day. Jamie spent the night hanging out with Carol while Maddy played gam
es. The sisters didn t hold a grudge after they were spanked, having had almost a
year to get used to their babysitter s first choice of punishment.
Though they had recovered emotionally, both girls still felt some soreness i
n their rears. Carol still had trouble sitting down, and estimated that would b
e the case for at least another day. So both girls had nervous, wide eyes when
Jamie called everyone down to the kitchen just before bedtime. Someone had eate
n and left the microwave and counter a mess. Carol and Madeline denied any part

of it. Karen heard the commotion from upstairs and came down to investigate.
She always felt a rush when Jamie spanked the girls and couldn t help but watch wh
en it happened. Still, she had to interject on her daughters behalf when she saw
the source of their babysitter s ire.
Oh that was me, Karen told them.
I m sorry I didn t clean up after myself, but I w
as so tired after work I had to sit down. Jamie didn t know what to say.
Carol spoke up first, Thank God. I thought I wasn t going to be able to sit do
wn for a week.
Yeah, Mom, Maddy added.
You almost got us into more trouble.
Both girls stared
at her with a mixture of relief and annoyance. You re lucky you re not one of us or
you d get it good for that.
Carol nodded in agreement as the two sisters rubbed t
heir backsides.
Yes, well I m the mom here and I don t work for Jamie, she works for me,
ated.

Karen glo

Jamie snapped, but spoke in calm tones. Karen, she began. All three Emerson
ladies turned to her, partially because she didn t use her usual address of Ms. Eme
rson when addressing the then 33 year old.
I don t know how you expect me to keep t
his place in order when you are tearing it apart. You ve been lazy and a bad infl
uence and I m sick of it.
Karen opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
No one had spoken to her in those tones since she lived with her parents. Jamie
grabbed a kitchen chair and turned it around. The girls instantly knew what wa
s happening, even though they couldn t believe their own eyes. Karen had no idea.
You might fire me after this, but tonight, you re going to learn a good lesson,
the teen told her. Karen started to reply as Jamie sat down but it turned into
a yelp as the girl pulled her across the knee. With deft efficiency, the teen r
olled up her skirt and tugged her pantyhose down to mid thigh, exposing her crea
m silk panties in seconds. Karen s first reaction was to put her hand back to pre
vent her denuding, but Jamie took her wrist as if it was offered. She held her
arm in a tight lock that forced Karen to bend further forward and the spanking b
egan.
Ow! Karen yelped. For the first several slaps, it was the best reply she coul
d come up with. Maddy and Carol covered their mouths and soon started smiling.
They never imagined their mother could be spanked, but she sure deserved it. K
aren couldn t believe what was happening. She looked up at her girls and saw the
satisfaction in their faces. She knew what they knew; despite her age, this pun
ishment was a long time coming. Just as Jamie said, she had been lazy, and unfa
ir, and mean. She had abused her power as a mother and was facing her comeuppan
ce over the knee of a babysitter almost half her age.
Jamie s hand painted her bottom an even pink color before the girl focused on
her lower cheeks. Karen continued to squirm and kick, but didn t try to get up or
resist. Even as her buttocks suffered, she knew her choices. She could fight
off of the girl s lap and fire her. It wouldn t change much. Her daughter s had alre
ady seen her spanked when she was caught by surprise. She d never live that down
anyway, even if she d gathered her bearings in time to stop the humiliation after
the first few smacks. Her other choice was to acknowledge her mistakes and take
her punishment. She hoped she wouldn t lose her daughters respect, but she suppos
ed she d been working on that with the behavior that led to the spanking in the fi
rst place.
So she decided to accept the chastisement from Jamie. Even after she pulled
her panties down. Even after she told Carol to fetch the wooden spoon. Even a
fter she made her cry with the spoon. Even after Jamie pulled her up to sit in

her lap for the remainder of her scolding, and then forced her to
ess wearing nothing from the waist down. She accepted it all and
ith a hug and a kiss from Jamie and her two daughters. All three
slept face down that night, but none regretted the spankings they
ed.
-

clean up the m
was rewarded w
Emerson girls
knew they earn

The memory of that first spanking almost a decade ago only distracted her fo
r a few seconds while Jamie toasted her buns. A hand spanking before a paddling
always stung. Jamie had perfected her technique over the years, so even a stif
f swat caused the Emerson women to sit up straight. Reminders and warm-ups were
the preferred penalty if one had to pay, but they were no picnic. Karen tried
not to wriggle too much while the younger woman spanked her. Jamie usually rewa
rded meek submission with leniency. Karen was panting when Jamie stopped and ga
ve the dreaded order:
Give me your paddle, the babysitter commanded. Karen took a breath before sta
nding and removing her pantyhose. They d only serve to stop her kicking, and she
preferred to be able to kick if Jamie applied the paddle over the knee. Karen t
ook the time to rub her bottom before handing the tool to her babysitter. There
were actually four spanking paddles in the house. Each of the women had one wi
th their names written on it hanging in their bedroom. Then there was the bigge
r, public school style paddle that hung in the kitchen. Jamie only used that on
rare occasions when one of the Emerson women had really crossed the line.
The personal paddles didn t hurt the backside as much as the big board, but th
ey could easily prevent a woman from sitting without wincing for days. Jamie wo
uld use these paddles for anything from a stiff lesson to a real scorcher just s
hy of a session with the big board or the switch. Karen also found the personal
paddle much more humiliating. Even if she didn t tell them the situation, she fe
ared that visitors suspected the paddle was still used on her. Worse was the me
mory of buying the paddle in the first place. Every time she picked up the padd
le from it s hook on her wall, she thought back to that day.
-

It was all Carol s fault. She was the athlete in the family and her bottom ha
d become very toned. While her heart shaped rear was a pleasure to look at, it
did require more force during a spanking. Jamie had no trouble applying the ext
ra effort and reducing Carol to tears, but the ping pong paddle she used was not
up to the task. Carol was nineteen at the time and often earned a session with
Jamie s paddle for breaking curfew. She never resisted, and offered her backside
to the 23 year old babysitter whenever she earned a punishment. That didn t stop
Jamie from being quite irked one morning when the paddle split right in half wh
ile spanking Caroline.
Even while on the verge of tears, Carol giggled a bit. Karen and Maddy, who d
been eating breakfast while watching the proceedings, also saw the humor in it.
Jamie held back her mirth. She put Carol in the corner with her bare bottom o
n display while she went on the computer. Before the Emerson women could figure
out what was going on, Jamie had an announcement.
It s your lucky day, girls, she addressed the three of them. Despite Karen bein
g fifteen years older, Jamie regarded her just as she did the younger Emersons.
Since Karen spent just as much time across her knee, it seemed appropriate.
I h
ave found a specialty store that makes custom paddles. I m paying out of my money
as a gift to each of you. We re going to get you something nicely made so we won t
have to interrupt your spankings for anymore equipment malfunctions.

They all groaned. Carol got dressed slowly and Karen got a warning swat for
protesting. Eventually they all got into the car with Maddy being the only one
who didn t pout about the whole thing. She and Carol had become rivals over the
years and she enjoyed seeing her sister get it even more than she enjoyed her mo
ther s spank dances. She knew that no matter what, Carol s paddling would continue
after this visit to the store.
The store was several miles out of town, so Jamie led them all to the counte
r and proudly proclaimed that she d need a custom paddle for each of her girls. K
aren wanted to die on the spot, as did Carol, but her eye rolling was halted by
her still smarting backside. With her sister and mother making such a fuss, Mad
dy found it easy to sit back and enjoy their misery. Her mother and sister sigh
ed while they had to turn around so the clerk could measure their bottom size fo
r the implements. The paddles came out beautifully, with each of their names ap
pearing on the polished wood in a decorated font. Karen blanched when the subje
ct of testing the paddles came up. All of three Emerson girls had to bend over
and take a couple of stiff swats from Jamie, but Karen found it the most humilia
ting. She shut her eyes so she wouldn t have to see the rest of the shoppers look
ing and commenting while she took her test spanks.
That s perfect for her bottom,

one older gentleman said.

Ooh, she is going to feel that. She d better stay on that girl s good side. Is
that her daughter? A young woman asked.
Carol was nearly as embarrassed, but spent most of the visit worrying about
how hot her backside would be after Jamie concluded her spanking. Karen earned
a hand spanking in the store for pouting and Maddy was smart enough to keep her
mouth shut and only deal with the few test swats, which didn t sting that bad over
her pants. When they got home, Carol let her howling show the effectiveness of
the new paddle. It didn t break. From then on, the paddles were the weapon of c
hoice when Jamie decided her hand wouldn t get the point across.
-

Karen offered her paddle to the babysitter and gasped when her panties were
pulled down. Jamie was in one of her no nonsense moods. Karen had been dreadin
g Spank Night since Wednesday of that week. She hadn t done anything naughty enou
gh to cause Jamie to spank her, but by that time she knew the cumulative infract
ions would get her bottom roasted on the weekend.
She had never decided how she felt about Spank Night. When Jamie came up wi
th the idea, she d already been spanking all three of the Emerson girls for a few
years. Carol spent most of the week at work and at college, so Jamie decided on
weekly reports to monitor her behavior. Jamie had a near supernatural ability
to tell when one of them was lying and the switch had trained all three of them
to speak the truth to their babysitter. Carol could be daring, but didn t go as f
ar as tempting the switch. Jamie would make them cut switches in just their t-s
hirts without a care that the neighbors could see. She would also put stripes o
n their legs, and none of them liked having to wear pants or long skirts to cove
r embarrassing welts.
Once Carol started the trend, Maddy thought it was unfair that her sister go
t away without being spanked during the week. Jamie responded by instituting Sp
ank Night on Friday where all three of them had to report their misbehaviors and
face punishment. For Carol there was no change and Maddy was well behaved enou
gh to survive more Spank Nights than the other two. For Karen, it meant facing
up to two and three spankings per week. Though she d improved since the early da
ys, she still lagged behind on chores and regularly broke her curfew. Once Caro

line was in her junior year of college, Jamie reckoned that Karen received more
spankings than both girls combined. Maddy proved to be so responsible that she
would be put in charge on the few occasions that Jamie had to leave for awhile.
It didn t happen often, but the youngest Emerson enjoyed the times she had to pad
dle her mother and older sister.
Still for Karen, facing Spank Night alone brought a bit more embarrassment f
or her. Even though Maddy often got off the easiest, it helped to have her ther
e looking on while the two naughty ones went over the babysitter s lap. Even thos
e Spank Nights where Maddy wielded the paddle, Karen could at least take solace
that her eldest daughter faced a similar humiliation crying over her younger sis
ter s knee. Even though being bared and spanked in front of her daughters had bee
n the most shaming moment of her life, over the years their presence had become
a comfort and a shared experience. Being paddled all by herself faced her with
the odd truth that she was a 43 year old woman with a 28 year old babysitter spa
nking her bare backside.
On the other hand, she loved Jamie. She didn t know how the girl became a mot
her to her, but she did. Jamie didn t just spank her when she was bad, she cared
for her when she was good. Just like the girls, Karen had come to really enjoy
Jamie s company and guidance. If her girls were moving on with college and post c
ollege life, she was still happy to have Jamie, for better or worse.
The paddle finally stopped striking her bottom when she was a crying mess, b
awling over Jamie s knee like a little girl. Her backside hummed with pain and sh
e knew she would sit on a pillow until Sunday. She hoped that she took her span
king well enough to avoid a Punishment Day. Following Jamie around town on erra
nds, dressed like a little girl and receiving a public spank at the slightest di
sobedience always made Karen shiver. Even though Jamie lifted her up and dried
her tears, she knew that Punishment Days were only announced on the morning that
they were to be served on. Still, it felt good to sit on Jamie s lap and have th
e young woman kiss her cheeks and comfort her. When the babysitter took her ups
tairs, stripped her and spent the rest of the night rubbing cold cream onto her
sore backside, Karen realized there might be some benefits to having Jamie all t
o herself.

She was just sixteen. A sweet little blond girl, probably five-four
and one hundred pounds sopping wet. We saw her advertisement at the
super-market for babysitting, and thought we'd give her a shot.
Our son, though fourteen, and very mature for his age was only
fourteen, and thought, at the very least, he could benefit from the
young girl's company, and he did. In fact, he all but fell in love
with Samantha right from the start. So, no, he wasn't the problem. It
was Beth, our eighteen-year-old,
One of the Friday nights we chose to see a movie, we hired Samantha
for the night and left her with Mark, watching a new video we had
rented and off we went. The trouble started an hour later when Beth
came down the stairs and told Samantha and Mark she was off to see her
new boyfriend.
Sam did the obvious and asked who it was, to which Beth replied,
"George Matthews!"
Now, it seemed Samantha knew of this young man, and knew he was
nothing but trouble, illegal trouble, and she forbade Beth to go out

with him.
Understandably, Beth scoffed at the younger girl and her orders and
told Sam to mind her own business. Well, seems Sam felt so strongly
about this guy, she wouldn't back down and again ordered Beth to call
George and cancel the date.
Beth, of course, said no, and went to leave. Sam grabbed
from her hand and pushed the speed-dial button to George
to tell George to forget his date, get lost forever, and
die. She managed all this before Beth wrestled the phone
time to hear George hang up.

Beth's phone
and proceded
eat dirt and
back just in

"You bitch! Why did you do that?"


"I told you, He's bad news. You are forbidden to see him!"
"WHAT? FORBIDDEN? Look, you little bitch, you are my little brother's
babysitter, not MINE! From now on, mind you own business! Now, maybe I
can still reach George and fix this mess!"
That was as far as it got before Sam grabbed the phone and stuck it in
her jeans pant's pocket!
"Give it back! I said, GIVE IT BACK!"
Sam stood resolute! Mark sat back quiet as a churchmouse enjoying this
whole showdown immensely!
Beth was livid. Now Beth is no slouch. She swims on the team at her
college, and she runs track. She's easily five inches and has thirty
pounds on Samantha. Nevertheless, Sam stood calmly in her face and
replied, "No!"
Beth went to wrestle the phone away, but failed in her first attempt.
Sam was just too fast and too wiry.
"Stand still and let me get my hands on you you little bitch!"
Sam smiled sweetly and replied, "That is the second time you called me
that. I let the first go because I knew you were angry. This one is
going to cost you! Now, I suggest you apologize and we can get this
nasty business over with before I put you to bed!"
Beth was now totally nuts with rage.
"YOU? Put ME to bed??? Listen hear, little girl! You give me my phone,
NOW BEEYATCH!"
Sam shook her head sadly and merely walked up to Beth and took her by
the hand.
Before Beth knew what hit her, she was kneeling in extreme pain.
Little Sam held nothing but Beth's wrist and her thumb, but in doing
so, Beth was in so much pain, she couldn't think straight or move if
she wanted.
Mark now sat up, swallowing his popcorn as rapidly as he could shovel
it in.
Sam turned to Mark and stated, "Mark, honey, slow down, you'll get

yourself sick!", and she followed up with the sweetest smile that Mark
melted just like the butter on his popcorn.
Sam returned her attention to the now kneeling and whimpering Beth.
"Now, Beth, my dear, it is
Get up! (which Beth had no
to the bathroom. A naughty
thoroughly washed out with

time for you to pay the piper as they say!


choice but do) and let's go down the hall
little girl I know needs her mouth
soap!", and off they went.

Mark sat there, afraid to move, and listened. He heard his sister's
threats and cries and pleadings. He heard Beth gargling the mouthful
of soap, and the tearful pleadings that Beth forced through her soapedup mouth.
Several minutes later Sam walked in dragging a very remoseful Beth
behind her by Beth's earlobe. Beth looked both frightened and very
miserable!
Sam simply stated, "Mark, I'm taking your sister upstairs to put her
to bed. Now, she's earned herself a sound spanking, so don't be
frightened when you hear her screams. I'll be down once she's tucked
in for the night and we can finish our movie!"
Mark was amazed, but true to her word, around forty minutes later,
long after Mark heard Beth's screams as Sam spanked her bare bottom
like a child, Sam returned and they watched the remainder of the
movie.
Later, when we arrived, Sam explained that she had had to punish Beth
and put her to bed and she stated it as matter-a-factly as if we the
parents should have expected it. That said, Sam let herself out and
went home.
Of course, a half-hour later, after my wife woke Beth and gleened the
whole story, well Beth's edited version, we were quite livid with
Sam. I offered to go over to Sam's house and see her parents and
demand satisfaction, but my wife wouldn't have it, nor would Beth. If
anyone found out this little girl had spanked Beth, she would be
ruined around town, and she feared that more than Sam getting off
scott-free!
My wife and bBeth both made me promise to stay out of it. My wife
assured me she'd call Sam over and handle it woman to woman tomorrow!
I looked at my wife with a puzzeled face and she made a spanking
motion with her hand stating, "Woman to 'woman'!"
I laughed and after my wife fixed Beth an ice-pack for her sore fanny,
we all went off to sleep.
Imagine my suprise when I returned home the next day to the sound of a
very female spanking taking place, just as my wife predicted, "Woman
to woman!"
I crept up and got through and into the back door, just within earshot
and eyesight of the kitchen where the holy mother of all spankings was
taking place. Though I knew it was wrong to see this young lady's
bared behind, I felt it was justified considering what she had done to

my daughter. I crept ever closer. Closer, Until....


There, across Samatha's seated form was my , all-but naked wife! Sam
wielded my wife's hairbrush like a master percussionist in the
orchestra and she played my poor honey's fanny like a virtuoso!
My wife's bottom was livid, criss-crossed with splotches of ever
darkening rings of scarlet, intermingled with blisters that looked
ready to burst. The sounds that came from my dear wife's mouth would
have scared a spirit straight from the gates of hell, or at least back
into them. On and on, this little tergament made mincemeat of my
wife's ample and wagging backside.
I thought about interveneing, but for some reason, I froze and just
stood there. Slowly as I realised that my wife's lesson was coming to
an end, I backed out the door and went back to my car. I pulled out as
quietly as possible and returned some two hours later, when I figured
my wife might be able to pull herself together again, and at least
pretend nothing had happened.
To my supprise, not only was Sam still there, but Both Beth and my
wife stood, bare-bottomed and just spanked, in opposite corners of the
dining room. Sam was standing behind the island in the kitchen making
dinner and Mark sat at the small bar that seperates the kitchen from
the dining room, doing his homework as if nothng was amiss!
"Oh, hi, dad! How was work?", Mark offered quite cheerfully!
"J-Just f-fine,son! H-How was school?", was all I could mutter.
Mark smiled again and replied, "Better than it was here for Mom and
Beth!"
Both nearly nude women groaned aloud, but made no move to leave their
assigned corners.
Sam finally smiled and broke in, "Oh, so sorry your dinner is late,
Mr. Fields, but I kept your wife and daughter a bit busy this
afternoon. We'll be eating presently!"
She walked by me as she spoke, but stopped right at my side and
whispered, "We'll talk about you're eavesdropping and being late,
after dinner! I'll see you in your den!" That smile came back and Sam
exclaimed, "Dinner's on, come-on ladies, you can eat standing by the
breakfast bar! Come-on, Mr. Fields, don't just stand there with your
mouth open. I don't like food to get cold! Now, come-on, sit!" She
looked at me as if to say "While you still can!" and I walked over and
enjoyed the most delicious Chicken Paprikash I had ever tasted. It
seemed quite appropriate for one's last meal!
Well, one's last meal where I could sit without wincing!
Yes, Mark really loves his babysitter. Yes, We all now love OUR
babysitter!
---------------------------------------FINIS---------------------------------------------

Just another litle re-work!


Hope someone enjoys!
Jim
*******************************************************************************
******************************************************************************
I walked in to Ben s room and shook my head in dismay, a usual the place was a com
plete mess. The duvet was on the floor and clothes were strewn around almost loo
king like a
deliberate attempt to make the room look as untidy as possible. No wonder his Mu
m had seemed so happy when she dropped him off yesterday to spend the whole six
week school
holiday here. I wouldn t have minded so much if Martin, his dad was here but he ha
d been asked to work away in France and now I was left on my own to look after h
im.
We had only been married just under a year and even though Ben had come to stay
most other weekends I didn t really feel as I knew him. I always tried to be nice
and dispel
the usual Step Mother myth and Martin had asked Ben to call me Mum, which I kno
w he didn t like.
I began to tidy his room when all of a sudden my foot got caught in the cable fr
om the game controller on his x-box. I could feel my self loosing my balance and
before I had
chance to do anything I reached over and grabbed the television. It fell over wi
th a crash and the screen cracked instantly. Oh god, that s all I needed, he was o
bsessed with
his x-box and spent every waking minute playing games. Martin was always calling
me clumsy and now look what I had done.
We were trying to save up for a deposit on a house so we didn t have to rent anymo
re and the only reason Martin had gone to work in France was because of the extr
a money and I
knew I couldn t just go out and buy a new T.V. I made a coffee and tried to think
what I could say to Ben and I knew how upset he would be. I would certainly be
the wicked
step mother now that was for sure.
The front door opened and I heard the unmistakable sound of trainers being kicke
d into the shoe rack then like clockwork the fridge door opening and the hiss of
a ring pull
from a can of Pepsi. I doubted he would even walk in the lounge to say hello to
me before running up to his room and I was right as I heard footsteps on the sta
ircase.
Ben, can you just come in here please I need to have a word with you , I already fe
lt so nervous having to explain to him what I had done.
He stood in the doorway looking down at the floor giving the surly half glance u
p that seems inbuilt to every thirteen year old boy. I took a deep breath and ex
plained how
his room was such a mess and I was only trying to clean it and then just said i
t;
I am really sorry Ben but I have broken your Television in your bedroom , it was al
most like I was 10 all over again apologising for being naughty and knew I was b
lushing as

I spoke.
He looked really upset as I explained what had happened and again said how sorry
I was. I told him that he could bring his x-box down in to the lounge and fix i
t up and the
television was much bigger here and I would just have to miss watching all the
programmes I like because it was my fault. He seemed slightly happier and trudge
d upstairs to
get everything. Soon the room was filled with gunfire and explosions and I reac
hed over to pick up a magazine thinking how was I going to cope with six weeks o
f this noise.
I flicked through the pages then stopped suddenly, there was a picture of an obv
iously mature woman standing with her hands on her head completely bare from the
waist down
showing her bottom. The headline read Will America s latest craze hit Britain! . I b
egan to read the article and couldn t believe my own eyes. Parents all over the co
untry
have been handing over authority to there children and allowed themselves to be
disciplined including spanked by them!.
Leading psychologists say that with all the stress of being a parent sometimes g
iving up control can have huge benefits and it gives the children a greater sens
e of
responsibility and helps them mature much faster and do much better at school. I
continued to read how some parents have agreed wholeheartedly to the new regime
and how
much more relaxed they feel and how proud they are that their children can be so
firm with them.
Oh my god Ben! You will never believe this , I threw him the magazine with a mixtur
e of disgust and astonishment.
He glanced over still playing his game, not the least bit interested as I got up
to get myself a glass of wine. I sat back down not able to take my eyes from th
e picture
of the obviously very contrite woman. Just then he got killed in his game and look
ed around.
So what you on about then Claire, ohh errrrr Mum , he corrected himself and picked
the magazine up.
I could see him blush slightly as he looked at the picture then threw it back to
me.
Oh I cant be bothered to read all that, look it goes on for another page at least .
what s it all about anyway he asked.
It didn t seem as if he was even listening as I told him the unbelievable situatio
ns that some parents in America had allowed themselves to be in. I again glanced
down the
page and read out aloud some of the key sentences still in dismay at what I was
reading. He gave out the odd smile and a shake of his head, as if he like me co
uldn t
comprehend how anyone would let this happen. I went to get some more wine and s
tood in the kitchen thinking that it was the most insane thing I had ever heard
in my whole
life. When I returned he had paused the x-box and was sat reading it intently.
Hey Mum, this is really cool you know, that woman is like that just cos she broke

a plate, he laughed

Just think what you would get for breaking my T.V.

I could feel a shiver run through my body and sipped my wine nervously as he car
ried on reading. He laughed out loud occasionally and glanced up at me asking if
I had read
it all. I shook my head as he told me that sometimes the naughty parents have to
dress like a child and they get sent to bed early and even grounded. Of course
he thought
all this was hilarious and gasped when he read a list of the most common impleme
nts used to spank them with.
Come on then Mum, have a guess what is on this list of things that I could spank
you with if we had this rule in our house he asked
I hardly considered that he was actually thinking or imagining that I would agre
e to this nonsense as I began to suggest items that might be on the list. Of cou
rse I knew
about canes even though I didn t think were popular in America and he said yes I h
ad got one right. I thought for a moment and said belt and he nodded his head sa
ying that
was right although it was wrote down as the same as strap. I shrugged my should
ers not really able to think of anything else and he replied that I had only got
2 out of 5
which was rubbish.
Its got a Hairbrush, a Switch and a Paddle, that s the top five they reckon
ed and showed me the list
Oh I cant believe I didn t say Paddle, we have actually got one of those
elf giggling as I said it

he grinn

I found mys

He looked puzzled and asked how come we had one so I explained how when I was yo
unger I had gone to Disneyland with my Mum and she had bought one as a sort of a
joke/souvenir
and always said she wished she had used it on me when I was a brat. He laughed a
nd asked to see it. I made some excuse that it was hidden away in some old box i
n the garage
and so on but he kept asking.
Oh alright! I agreed but told him he better come with me and help me look as he kn
ew I hated spiders and wasn t going in the garage on my own. We went outside and b
egan to
look and as I was kneeling with my bum pushed up in my tight jeans I felt a sha
rp;
SLAP
Hey you cheeky little sod

I shouted but only half seriously as he stood grinning.

Well do you expect pushing your arse up like that

he laughed

I found the paddle and rubbed of the dust and read the words Brat Tamer on it, whi
ch of course he found hilarious. As I turned to switch off the light I handed it
him and
without warning he swung it hard across my jeans and shouted;
look a spider! ..Run
I squealed both in shock at the smack and the thought of an actual spider and ra
n outside clutching the back of my jeans while he laughed hysterically. I couldn t

help but
laugh myself and as we closed the door and went inside I thought that this is th
e most fun that me and Ben had shared. I grabbed some more wine and walked back
in the lounge
to see Ben swinging the paddle with a huge smile on his face.
So Mum, how many do you think you deserve for breaking my T.V.
if it happened everyday and not in the least bit absurd.

he asked calmly as

I shook my head in bewilderment at what he was suggesting as he picked up the ma


gazine and said how I wouldn t have showed him this article if I hadn t wanted this
myself.
Of course I denied it saying that s was nonsense but he said I had even been and f
ound the paddle so it was obvious I knew I deserved it. Despite trying to argue
I somehow
knew he was right and not even recognising my own voice I looked at the floor an
d said;
Oh I don t know maybe six I suppose
His face lit up with an enormous grin and then I stood feeling numb as he exclai
med that I wouldn t feel it through my jeans. He went to say he didn t think it woul
d be right
if he saw me in some of the little skimpy thongs and such that he knew I usually
wore having seen them drying on the radiator before.
So Mum, why don t you go and find something suitable to wear and remember that it s
ays you ought be dressed like a child now anyway he sniggered looking so smug.
I walked up to my room feeling like I had actually gone insane and how on earth
could I be willing or even wanting to go through with this. Slowly I take my jea
ns off and push
down my little black and red thong thinking I really ought to not show off my u
nderwear so much now Ben is around. I slowly unbutton my blouse and shrug it off
and unclip my+
bra and stand stark naked in front of the mirror. Childish he wants does he? I
gazed at my reflection looking at my small 34 b breasts sagging slightly and the
n down to my
neatly shaved triangle of dark brown pubes. Shudders and thinks what I can I we
ar to possible look like a child.
Hears the sound of more loud gunfire and explosions as he turns the x-box back o
n. Opens my wardrobe and looks along the hangers of nice dresses and jeans and t
hinks
everything looks like it belongs to a 30 year old married woman and hardly chil
dish.
Then suddenly remembers some pyjamas my mum bought me which Martin hated saying
I looked like a 10 year old in them. I found them out of the drawer and put on t
he little
white top with a pink bunny rabbit on the front and then tugged up the little pi
nk cotton shorts that went with it. I grabbed some white ankle socks and fastene
d my hair
into a pony-tail.
Walks downstairs into the room and stands as he plays his game unaware I am even
here. Wait s a while then coughs and fidgets nervously and he turns to see me,
Hey that s so cool
can I

he smiles

I don t think I can call you Mum looking like that though

I shake my head and agree that maybe Claire is better as he turns back to the sc
reen and almost ignores me for another few minutes leaving me to squirm in embar
rassment.
Oh sorry Claire I forgot to say ..go and stand in the corner while I m ready to give
you the paddle he said without even looking at me
I hesitated thinking how could he be so arrogant and dismissive after I had agre
ed to go along with this outrages idea. Even so I found myself walking to the co
rner and
then remembering the image from the magazine lifted my hands to my head. I head
a stifled giggle then shuddered in shock;
Not that corner, go and stand in the bay window let the neighbours see what a nau
ghty Mum you ve been
I was almost beyond belief at what he was suggesting but remembered the article
saying that it was common knowledge throughout the neighbourhood of which parent
s had
adopted the new regime. I took a deep breath and walked over to the window with
my hands still on my head. Ben looked casually over and smiled;
That s a good girl Claire .. its not that bad having to do as your told is it
ed

he grinn

I stared out on to the front garden and then beyond to the road and prayed no on
e would actually look closely enough to see me standing like this. Although a sh
udder
ran thro me and part of me wanted the whole street to know who was now in charg
e of me, no one seemed to be looking.
The sound of his game echoed around the room and it seemed like forever I was st
ood looking through the window. Each time the noise stopped I thought that was i
t and
waited anxiously. I could feel him looking at me and then when I thought he was
going to speak the damn game started up again. I moved my weight from one foot t
o the other
and my hands ached as I kept moving them to different parts of my head. After w
hat seemed like forever I turned around;
For gods sake Ben cant you stop that stupid game and just give me the paddle
led.

I yel

He didn t even move his head away from his stare into the screen and acted as if I
were invisible. I walked over and picked up the paddle and threw it down in fro
nt of him.
Ben do you think I enjoy having to wait like this! my arms are aching and I m so bo
red cant we just get on with it again I yelled.
He stood up in a flash and grabbed me by the pony-tail harshly,
enjoy it you stupid little girl! he hissed.
Why do you think its called a punishment!
me back to the window.

You re not meant to

and with that he tugged my hair and led

Now you can start all over again and do another full hour ..you only had 5 mins to
go you stupid girl! he sounded so firm I could hardly believe it was him.

Then in one sudden movement he let go of my hair and tugged my pyjama shorts dow
n to my knees.
This time you can turn around and see if anyone on the street wants to look at yo
ur bare bottom young lady he laughed.
I cringed in total shame as he looked down between my legs at my bush and shook
his head.
And we can remove that as soon as I have smacked your bottom .its not appropriate t
o have pubic hair now is it he asked
I let out a childish sob and shook my head in agreement and then a sudden though
t rushed into my head, I remembered the date on the magazine ..it was April the fi
rst!
*******************************************************************
********************************************************************
Sandy Saga: A Mother-Daughter Rift
by PEH
Sandy s relationship with Monique had gone from peculiar to one of a
kind. They began as friends before Sandy started disciplining Monique
and after a year of having her naked bottom over Sandy s lap for
several times a week, the two became casually intimate. When Monique
had turned eighteen and Sandy was still seventeen, she had long since
mastered shifting between being Sandy s friend, lover and niece. She
loved Sandy so much that the various punishments never embarrassed her
for a moment. If she were required to drop her pants and go across
Sandy s knee on national television, she d do so because she loved
being Sandy s girl.
For Sandy s part, she not only shared the same feelings, but also had
come to feel a maternal protectiveness over her best friend and
occasional bedmate. This protectiveness even extended to supersede
the relationship between Monique and her own mother, in many ways.
Like many teens and mothers, Monique and Nadine had their rough
patches, but the teen found a perfect surrogate in her best friend.
Sandy spanked more and sometimes harder than her real mother, but
Monique found comfort in the love behind every bottom stinging
session. With her real mother, punishment resulted from disagreements
as often as Monique s misbehavior. Even more so, once Sandy took
over her life, Monique improved in every noticeable way. She excelled
in track, had many friends and her grades were better than they d ever
been. While many mothers only checked in during report card time,
Sandy had her hairbrush ready after every quiz and assignment.
With her closeness with Sandy and increasing distance from her own
mother, Monique became as difficult to discipline at home as she was
pliable under Sandy. Monique didn't defy her mother, but she did
challenge her at every step. At her wit s end, in a bout of
frustration, Nadine kicked her daughter out of the house. She knew
that her own stress played a role in their escalating conflict.
Though she didn t work, Nadine rarely stayed home to play the role of
housewife. Her husband s work as a sports reporter paid well enough
to fuel her shopping habit, but kept him away from home too long to
keep her mood from souring. With both Monique and her other daughter
Serena in high school, staying at home became lonely. Watching her

eldest child outgrow the need for her shortened her fuse.
Despite not having much of a relationship with Nadine, Sandy often
gave her the benefit of the doubt when Monique complained about any
punishments she had to endure from her mother. Whether she was
grounded or given the occasional spanking, Sandy always put her hands
on her hips and made her surrogate niece confess any sins. If she had
misbehaved, Sandy wouldn t hesitate to punish Monique on top of
whatever Nadine had given her. Monique never refused a double
spanking, so when she pleaded her case to Sandy, the teen was all
ears. Monique s account of being kicked out persuaded Sandy to go
speak with Nadine face to face.
Sandy, Monique s not here,
teen at the door.

Nadine began to say when she saw the

I know. She s at my house. May I come in?


Nadine allowed her in reluctantly. She knew the girls were very
close, but she had no desire to explain her actions to a teenager.
She offered Sandy a drink and gave her a token explanation.
Monique
isn t really kicked out. I admit I was venting. If she wants to
spend the night she can, but tell her to come back home after school
tomorrow.
Nadine?

Sandy sat back with her arms folded for a moment.

What s going on,

Excuse me?
Well it doesn t make sense. Monique is doing better, but you guys
are fighting more than ever. When I met Monique, she was a slacker on
the track team and had to attend summer school to keep her grades up.
Now she s one of our team leaders, a role model to younger girls at
school and a straight A student. Something isn t right.
I, she began, then
growing up into a beautiful,
don t get along anymore. We
this phase, but right now we
out.

thought for a moment.


I don t know. She s
responsible young woman, but we just
re fighting. I know we ll get through
re in a rough patch.

Well her feelings are hurt. She s seriously considering moving


You ve got to be kidding me, Nadine scoffed.

Not at all. She s eighteen years old and looking to attend college
next year. With her improved grades, she s been accepted to many
schools and will be able to move to a college campus. She ll only be
out of the house for the rest of the school year and the summer. Then
she ll be gone, Sandy said with a tone of finality.
Even Nadine s coffee-brown skin lost some color.
those terms. Tell her to come back home.

She can t leave on

I ll tell her no such thing. How do I know it s not just going to


be one miserable cycle until she leaves?
Sandy, I m her mother.

She still loves you, but she doesn t want to sit here and fight
until she leaves school, and from what she says, she s not at fault
here.
Nadine sighed.
She s not. Not completely. We re both stubborn.
She was always that way, but when she was younger I could just whoop
her tail and she d have to do things my way. Now she s too old for
that and we just yell at each other.
Well first of all, no one s ever too old for a good butt whooping.
Do you know how Monique s grades got so good? Sandy asked.
A miracle? Nadine attempted levity.
Sandy looked her straight in the eye.
Since I started driving her
to summer school almost two years ago, I ve been spanking her backside
whenever she doesn t try her hardest.
Nadine s face scrunched in a mixture of doubt and confusion.
do you mean you ve been spanking her?

What

The only thing it could mean. I pull down her pants and whoop her
when she needs it. And she knows she s not too old for it because I
was about to whoop her today before she told me the whole story.
Like a real spanking or a play spanking? Nadine asked.
Sandy spoke slowly and emphasized each word, Pants and panties down,
bent over, can t sit down, real tears, learn a good lesson style
spankings.
Nadine licked her lips, then recovered.
lay hands on my daughter?

What gives you the right to

She does. She trusts me and knows I only discipline her for her own
good. Monique has never been opposed to a good spanking. She just
doesn t believe in being punished in anger over a disagreement.
Nadine couldn t help but feel guilty. This news came expected and
shocking at the same time. Sandy pounced.
She s going to stay with
us for a couple of days, then she s going to her grandmother s
house. Nadine s eyes snapped up. Her husband s mother lived far
away, so grandmother only meant one person.
That s not a good idea, she said in a strained voice.
make a much bigger deal out of all of this.

She will

I m sorry, Nadine, but I think someone needs to step in here. This


has been going on for a while and Monique thinks your mother will see
both sides and make the right decision. I agree. This sounds harsh,
but Monique is not the one who needs her butt whooped here, and you
know it. Your mother might not feel the same way I do about never
outgrowing a good spanking, but she might restore some order here.
Like a spanking, it ll be painful but you ll feel better after it s
over.
I can t believe you re coming to my house talking to me this way,
Nadine said, almost not meaning to speak it aloud.
I love Monique, and I want her to have a good relationship with her
mother, but right now things are out of control. Your mom will help

things. I just thought you should know.

Sandy rose to leave.

Wait, Nadine called. Sandy turned. What if I promised to


change? Even though I think you ve been pretty rude about it, you re
mostly right. I see that now, and I ll change.
Promises sound good, but there s nothing at stake for you. If you
go back on your word, we ve just delayed the inevitable without some
consequences.
If I go back on my word, you can bring my mother into this.
If you go back on your word, Monique might be gone for good.
Well it won t come to that,

Nadine vowed.

Do you really promise?


I really promise,

Nadine pressed.

Well if that s true, and your word is good, then you ll agree to
real consequences. Nadine opened her mouth to speak, but Sandy
continued. I meant what I said, Nadine. No one is too old for a
good whooping, and you are acting like you need one. I know about the
shopping and the going out and the late weekends. You need to rein it
in or be reined in. If you can change and get the household back in
order, no problem. If you can t, it s proof that you need a whooping,
and I ll give it to you and see if that doesn t change things.
Nadine opened her mouth in naked shock.
That s crazy! You re crazy!
Sandy held up her hand.
Duly noted. Yes and Monique comes home
tomorrow after school. No and we call your mother.
Nadine grit her teeth and pressed her lips together.

Fine.

Fine, what?
If I break my promise, I ll take my licking.
-----------------------------------------------------I knew it was you, Nadine said, rolling her eyes. Two weeks had
passed since their discussion. Though things had gone well at first,
she and Monique had a blow up instigated by her own foul mood. Like
Rumplestiltskin, Sandy had returned to collect. She already took
Nadine s first born, and now she arrived to take her rear end.
I m glad it s come to this,

Sandy admitted.

I bet you are.


Not for the reasons you think. After today, you and Monique are
going to be better.
Let s just get this over with, Nadine rolled her eyes. Sandy
grabbed her arm. Nadine was surprised by the strength of the girl s
grip.

You re only getting this warning once. I m about to take you to the
woodshed, and if I think you re sassing me, that just tells me that
you haven t gotten the point yet. You save yourself some skin on your
backside by acting like you re sorry.
Oh, please,

Nadine rolled her eyes again.

How are we doing this?

Have it your way. Pants down, kneel on the couch, put your hands on
the back of it and keep them there. I ll take care of the rest.
Wow, are you this bossy with Monique? OW! Nadine yelped when Sandy
gave her bottom a hard slap. That had hurt much more than she
expected from the slender, but fit teen. She huffed, walked into the
living room and pulled her tight slacks down just below the prominent
curve of her rump. The teen walked behind her, pulled her pants all
the way down to her knees and pulled her black and pink panties down
to join them. She couldn t believe she was about to whip Monique s
mother. A year ago she hadn t dreamed of such a thing. That morning
she chose a belt just for the occasion. Normally she would break a
woman in with a spanking, but Nadine needed the belt. Monique told
her that s how her grandmother disciplined Nadine when she was a
child, and Nadine had used the belt on both her daughters until she d
recently stopped using corporal punishment on Monique.
Sandy drew her belt from the loop of her jeans. She d used the belt
on Monique, her own mother, Gwen, and their friend Audrey when
misbehavior called for very stern measures. They could each attest to
Sandy s skill with it and were angels for weeks after a taste of its
leather. Sandy put her left hand on the small of Nadine s back. She
smiled. Monique and her family where black, but their skin was a
light enough that she could see the handprint from that one hard
spank. Nadine s one cheeks bore it proudly.
Stick your butt out further, Sandy ordered. Nadine scrunched her
face while she obeyed, arching her back and poking her buttocks out
towards the teenager, presenting them for punishment. Sandy drew her
arm back and admired the sight for one more half second.
The crack of the belt on Nadine s 36 year old bottom echoed
throughout the house and beyond. Kids playing outside knew that
someone in the Taylor household was getting whooped. Sandy brought
the belt down again. Welts followed each blow. She held no ill will
towards Nadine, but knew that she needed a firm wakeup call. For two
surreal minutes, they worked together in relative silence. Sandy
exhaled as she brought down each stroke and Nadine took in a sharp
breath. The belt whistled and slapped, spreading hot flames across
her bottom. The pain mounted and Nadine took her medicine in shock.
Nadine grew up with regular spankings from her mother and father, but
it had been almost twenty years since she d had her hide truly
tanned. Her mother would still swat her on occasion to prove a point,
but those were just reminders to mind her manners. They were nothing
like the whipping she was taking from Sandy. A teenaged girl. Not
that it mattered, but a teenaged white girl was whipping her tail, all
because she d been a bad mom.
The belt had as little sympathy for her at 36 as it did when she was
a teenager. Over and over it lashed both cheeks, biting hard on the
end just by her hip. Worst of all, the girl had impressive skill with
her punitive instrument. She found fresh targets with accuracy and

didn t pause when Nadine s pelvis shot forward. She used her hand to
pull Nadine s bottom back out to the proper position and licked it
with the belt some more. Nadine felt like a child having to be
controlled that way but couldn t keep still. Each lash built upon the
last and more and more she had to jerk her buttocks away from
punishment. Soon she was dancing on the coach, knees planted, hips
gyrating while she got the good whooping the teen had promised her
over a week ago.
It surprised neither of them when she started crying. It started low
in the back of her throat and grew to a long wail only disturbed when
a hard stroke caused her to help. She held her bottom out as best she
could, but soon she was welted all over both cheeks and couldn t help
but cover her rear. Sandy never even hit her hands. She understood.
Her mother sometimes had the same reaction while being whipped and
Sandy knew how to handle it. First she pushed Nadine face down on the
couch and applied ten fast licks. This increased her cries and sent
her dancing some more, rolling from side to side. Sandy gave her a
short reprieve while she pulled her shoes, socks and pants off of her
legs along with her underwear. Nadine didn t even think to protest,
too glad for the relief. Sandy rolled her onto her back, picked up
her legs and finished the whipping in the diaper position. When her
bottom had received its due, Sandy put the belt down and lectured her
while giving her legs a stern slapping.
Nadine promised her the world when she wasn t apologizing for her
behavior. Having her legs spanked didn t hurt as much as the belt,
but it kept the fires burning and served to regress her back to her
childhood. She was no longer a 36 year old mother of two, wife to a
semi-famous husband. She was just a bad girl who could only end her
spanking by promising to be a good girl. Even if that meant promising
to be good if she needed another talking to. She knew she was doomed
as soon as she said it, but when Sandy threatened to revisit her with
the belt, she d already had all of the rebellion spanked out of her.
Sandy had been on the top side of a spanking enough times to know that
Nadine never had a chance. The next trip to the woodshed may as well
have been written in stone.
Sandy sat down next to her and turned Nadine over on her belly. Her
ponytail had come undone and the teen ran her fingers through the
mussed hair. She grabbed some napkins and wiped the older woman s
face. After she got her crying under control, Nadine opened up about
her loneliness and the changes of having both girls grow up. Once
Sandy had her belt back in its loops and Nadine had her clothes back
on, Nadine started feeling better. Even though she would not be
sitting down for days, she knew the punishment really was for her own
good. All would be well if she could convince Sandy not to tell her
daughter what had happened.
I thought this would be between us,

she complained.

I never said anything like that, Sandy retorted.


No, but it s common sense. You can t tell my daughter you ve
spanked me. I have to maintain her respect.
She ll respect you even more knowing that you took your punishment
bravely. If she tries to make you feel bad about it, she knows her
pants will come right down. Besides, she needs to know that you want
to change. Showing her your bottom will prove that.

You want me to actually show her?

Nadine exclaimed.

Darn straight. We re going to tell her together. Then you re going


to pull your pants down and tell her how sorry you are. She ll get a
good look at your welts and she ll forgive you.
Yes, ma am,

Nadine submitted.

********************************************************************************
*******
********************************************************************************
******
The heads of Mark amd Meridith Clarkson bobbed up and down in opposite
rhythm to the smacks that rang like pistol shots behind them!
Every second, like a metronome, another pistol shot was heard and
another head would bounce upward, an involuntary "OUCH" would escpe
that particular victim's lips.
To their children's perspective, if they had been watching, instead of
deeply intrenched in their latest video game, they would have seen
their parents heads bob up and down like one of those roadside toys,
or a double bobble-head set to alternate bobs.
Ouch! OUCH! Ouch! OUCH! On and on it went to the sounds of Verdi's
Anvil chorus which played loudly from the girls' iphone in the
background. Mark would yell first, then Meridith, then Mark, well, you
get the picture.
P-P --PULEEEEEZE OUCH!, was all Meridith could get out as another
sound smack bounced off her now almost scarlet behind. The chorus
played on as did the background tempo of the twin wooden hairbrushes.
G-Girls! OUCH! GIRLS! OUCH! Mark shouted, this isn't right!OUCH! Only
to meet the chorus in the song and fall once more into totally
involuntary cries and screams of pain.
As the song began, each punisher would spank at alternating one second
intervals, like a metronome, their cadence perfect. They were,
afterall, percussionists in school band, and were both first seat!
When the anvil chorus struck, somewher near a minute into the song,
the girls would hit their targets in unison and only square in the
middle of their victim's sit spots. These smacks would elicit shrill
screams and sobs at each impact. The chorus over, the smacks went
right back to alternating , one second each, one swat per cheek,
alternating sit spots , right , then left. The girls swung with
practiced aim and well muscled arms. The whacks rang each time like
another pistol shot, from right to left as did the "OWWS" and OUCHES!

of their recipient! "


BETHANY, Ouch! TIFFANY, Ouch, PLEASE, AHHHH, THE CHILDREN! Ouch!
Meredith got out in between her smacks!
Bethany smiled and looked at her twin sister seated before her and
smiled, and replied right through the smacks, never missing a beat,
"It is your own fault, Meredith! They are mature enough to know that
naughty people get spanked!"
Already three times through the three minute song, which played on and
on in a continuous loop, the Clarksons were getting desperate. Tears
rolled down Meredith's cheeks, and Mark's tears was soon to follow.
Mark screamed, This-OUCH! Isn't-OUCH! RIGHT!-OUCH! WE-OUCH! ARE-OWWW!
ADULTS!-AHHHEEEE!
Tiffany looked at her twin sister and said aloud, "I don't know,
Bethany, did anone call and say they'd be late?"
The chorus struck again, and the level of noise stipped the
conversation for anoth eighteen smacks and screams
Bethany replied, "No, Tiff, noone called!"
The smacks went on! The Clarkson's now sobbed with each shout of pain!
Tiffany continued, "And did we smell alchohol on both Mark and
Meredith's breaths?"
The chorus again, the screams were horrendous, yet the kids just
played on and on.
Tiffany continued, "And did one of these naughty children drive after
drinking?"
Bethany answered, "Yes, and yes, he did,Tiff!"
"Well then', Tiffany concluded, " as the Clarkson's left us in charge
until the adults returned home, and clearly NO ADULT has returned
home, I think we have every right!"
Mark and Meredith were almost past hearing, so sore were their
behinds, the flames licked at them like molten lava with each
successive swat.
Oh gawd, that damned chorus again!
If one could have been a fly on the wall, they would have seen two
identical teen girls, seated facing each other on identical straightbacked chairs, their knees touching! Across the knees of one girl was
a petite, yet elegant woman of her mid thirties. Her elegant "little
black dress" was up and over shoulders, revealing a lacey black brastrap, that evidently hooked in the front! At the woman's ankles
rested her black hose and black panty-thong, as well as her black sixinch Prada heels. The area between the bra and her ankles lay bare,
revealing the well-toned and tanned figure of a woman who worked out
and tanned religiously, Her fanny, however, had been previously white
as the driven snow, but Tiffany had put many shades of scarlet to that
tapestry since!

Across from the prostrate lady lay a once well-dressed man , in his
early forties. His white shirt was all that remained of his tux, as
his slacks, and starched boxers had joined his black socks at his
ankles. His shiny black wingtips were now scuffed beyong recognition
from his feet drumming the floor. If Meredith had been wearing
anything other than her Pradas, her toes would be scuffed as well,
but, sore-ass be damned, they were her Pradas afterall!
Mark's once well-muscled and pristine cheeks now matched his wife's in
hue and condition.
The two lay side by side, both facing the same direction, their
children directly in their view, seated in the family room ahead. To
see the culprits' backsides, however, you had to be their punishers or
in the dining room behind, or out in the front yard, as Mrs. Walker
was standing presently, plastic baggie in hand, her dog doing its'
business on the Clarkson's front lawn.
To say she was crimson in shock, yet rivetted to the spot, would be an
understatement!
Now, well into the fifth loop of the song, Tiffany's phone rang and
Bethany lay down her brush on Mark's bare back and reached over,
stopping the music, giving the now sobbing Clarkson's at least a bit
of relief. Fearing being seen, Mrs. Walker chose wisely to move on!
"Oh, hi mom! Yes! Yes, we'll be very late tonight! Yes! Yes, both of
them. Yes, just like the Jacksons, NO, don't worry! We won't! Mom,
they are adults and can take a sound spanking as you..no mom we won't
tell them. NO not a thing, I promise.(Tiffany rolled her eyes at her
twin who laughed in response, though quietly!) Mom what happens at
home stays at home, don't worry. I know dad would be mortified. No!
MOM! Ok! We love you! DO not let us catch you staying up, understand?
Thank you, mom! Kisses, Bethany says ,"Kisses too!""
Tiffany looked at the condition of Mark's bottom
They were, angry red, mottled, and blistered and
looked like his skin had been powdered with baby
dry it appeared, and though they each cried like
Meredith, no baby powder had been used!

and then Merdith's.


bore areas that
powder, so white and
babies, both Mark and

Tiffany wasn't concerned. She'd seen it all before. She knew neither
Mark, nor Meredith would forget this spanking, even if they wanted to
for well over a week! If they stopped now. She wrinkled her nose and
thought about it!
Tiffany looked at Bethany and exclainmed, "How's about time we change
naughty culprits?"
Bethany smiled and replied, "It's like you know what I'm thinking
before I even think it!"
They both laughed aloud as they lifted up their weeping charges and
made them exchange punishing laps!
Just before Meredith was lowered to Bethany's lap, Bethany exclaimed,
"The nasty bugger left a wet spot!"
Tiffany looked at her own lap and responded in kind, "So did she! You
know what that means, the last round, all the swats are in unison!"

Bethany looked seriously at her sis and nodded in the affirmative.


"Sister, start the music!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEMMVHAINFM
OUCH! Ouch! OUCH! Ouch!, on and on it went!
Two rounds in, Tiffany looked at her sister and reminded her that they
were watching the Hendersons tomorrow!
Bethany replied, "Oh, that's right, I forgot their kids will be at
camp all weekend! You know their parents never take their leaving very
well. We'd best bring the strap!"
Tiffany smiled and replied, "It's already in the bag!" They laughed
and laughed.
Meanwhile, the song played on and on. Mark and Meredith, just hours
before, the center of attention at the country-club function, now very
much the unwanted center of attention as they are brought down a few
pegs by two teen sisters, their hired babysitters!
OUCH! That chorus again! Go on girls, bring that hammer down!
Meanwhile, in the family room, fifteen year-old Mark junior drawled
out to his thirteen year-old sister, Lissie. See, I told you we still
needed a babysitter!
Lissie turned for the first time and took in the suffering and bobbing
faces of her parents in the adjacent room and concluded, "When you are
right brother of mine, YOU ARE RIGHT!"
There goes that chorus again!
------------------------------------Finis-----------------------------------Just a little scene to make up for my laziness on some past braindrains!
Hope someone likes!
Jim

Alison Jenkins part5


The cool breeze outside made me acutely aware of my lack of knickers and the dre
ss was so short I felt positive anyone looking closely enough would see my pink
bottom and hairless vagina. I had a bag with the rest of the ridiculous clothes
in each hand and despite this made several attempts to tug the hem of the dress
down to try and cover myself. Ryan gave me a stern look and told me to stop mess
ing about with my dress and slowed down so he was walking behind me.
Oh yes I can see why your trying to pull your dress down Alison it is very short

isn t it he sounded so matter of fact as usual. Maybe you ought to put some knickers
on, its still a long walk to the car.
He looked at me as I stopped then realised he expected me just to get some knick
ers out of the bag and put them on right there and then in the middle of the str
eet. I hesitated and gazed around seeing several people walking close by but not
seeming to really be taking any notice of us. Quickly I took out a pair of whit
e knickers with little red cartoon strawberries with smiling faces on them. Oh g
od they looked so small in my hands as I lifted one foot and pushed it through t
he knickers. Once again I looked up to see people oblivious of my shameful activ
ity of tugging up the childish knickers in public.
Again Josh stayed behind me and I could hear him laughing as he exclaimed that t
hey didn t do much to cover my fat bum cheeks but at least everyone could see I wa
s wearing knickers. I pleaded with him that the dress was way too short to be ou
tside especially in town and as we carried on walking the busier it was getting.
I tried not to look as people began to notice and I overheard several surprised
comments;
Good grief can you see the state of that
I don t believe how she dare wear such a thing
Hey, been a naughty girl have you
Along with just gasps of astonishment and shakes of heads and constant tuts we c
arried on to the car. I was so relieved to be sat inside and out of the public g
aze I could only let out a nervous giggle.
Oh god Ryan I cant believe I have walked through town like this .
Maybe I should have let you keep your knickers off and really given them somethin
g to talk about , he grinned and without realising I was nodding in agreement.
He smiled at my response and told me naughty little girls who like showing thems
elves off need a smacked bottom when we get home. Again I could only agree with
him and thanked him for taking the trouble of accompanying me shopping for my ne
w clothes. I listened as he said that we were having tea at his Mum s this evening
and I could show her my new outfits. I knew how amused she would be to see me d
ressed like a 10 year old and deep down couldn t wait to parade around in front of
her.
We arrived home and once inside Ryan led me upstairs to my bedroom and then with
out warning told me to gather up all my clothes out of my wardrobe and put them
in some bags. I stayed silent as he explained that he had decided that from now
on I was only going to be allowed the clothes I had just bought and everything e
lse was going to kept at his house. Each morning I would have go round and get r
eady for work in front of him and his Mum and at all other times I was to be kep
t dressed as the naughty little girl I obviously was.
I could feel my heart beat faster at the implication that I was to be dressed as
a 10 year old when ever I wasn t at work. It didn t cross my mind to consider refus
ing and began to empty my room of all my adult clothes. I opened the drawer on m
y dressing table and as I began to put all my bra s and knickers into a bag I saw
the wedding photo of me and Steve and shivered at what he would think if he knew
what was happening to me.
I was still wearing the ridiculously short blue and white checked school uniform
dress and white knee socks and shiny black Mary Jane shoes along with the child
ish knickers as we entered Josh s house. Susan smiled and said what a good girl I

was bringing all my clothes around and she was glad I had accepted it would be g
ood for me to stay dressed as a little girl all the time from now on. Ryan said
he was going to play on his x-box for a while before tea and went up to his room
.
Susan took me up to the spare room and told me to put all my work outfits on han
gers and leave the rest of my clothes in bags. She explained that each morning I
would have a shower at home then walk around in just my knickers and shoes so s
he could supervise me getting ready for work. I knew no one was likely to be aro
und at that time of the day to see me but even so I felt a wave of shame run thr
ough me at the thought having to walk topless and in some childish knickers to h
er house each day.
Just as we finished there was a knock on the door and Susan told me go and stand
in the corner of the living room. I faced the wall and lifted my hands to my he
ad knowing that the dress would ride up and show my little knickers off entirely
. I heard the unmistakeable voice of Mrs Jones and realised she had been invited
to tea and then cringed with further embarrassment as I heard another voice. I
overheard the conversation and listened as Mrs Jones had brought her grand daugh
ter along to see the naughty young wife put through her paces as Jennifer could
not believe such a thing was true.
I stayed still as I heard them all enter the room and between stifled laughter S
usan told Jennifer that here I was in the flesh so to speak and after tea I was
going to put on a little fashion show to display my new clothes that Ryan had be
en so kind as to take me shopping this afternoon for. With a pat on the seat of
my knickers from Susan I was told to turn around and introduce myself to Mrs Jon
es grand daughter. She was about 11 or 12 and look at me in amazement as I polit
ely said hello and I was Mrs Alison Jenkins and very pleased to meet her. Susan
praised me for being a very good girl and encouraged me to tell Jennifer the rea
son for my attire and how I had asked her son Ryan to becoming my full time baby
sitter and smack my bare bottom when ever I was naughty.
I knew my face was as red as the strawberries on my knickers as I explained the
events of the last few weeks to the incredulous girl. She shook her head as I to
ld her I was 27 and married and my husband knew nothing whatsoever about any of
this. With my face still burning in shame Susan announced tea was ready and led
us through to the kitchen and shouted Ryan to join us.
It turned out he knew Jennifer from school and although she was a year younger t
hey did sometimes sit next to each other on the bus and he had a laugh with her
that he could tell her about me now as he had kept it a secret from his school f
riends so far. I stared down to the table where I was expected to sit and saw th
at instead of the meal the rest were having a little bowl of baby food was there
along with a babies bottle. I could feel my mouth drop open as looked in dismay
and then noticed everyone was smiling at my reaction.
Slowly I sat and continued to just look down at the baby food as everyone else b
egan to eat. I knew that any protest would soon result in a spanking from Ryan a
nd dipped the spoon in the horrible beige coloured slop and put it in my mouth.
It tasted gross and the texture was horrible but I was hungry and began to eat a
s Ryan told everyone about the afternoon we had. They were so amused at hearing
the events and how I had stood stark naked without a care in the world who might
have come into the shop to see me. I was shaking with nerves at remembering the
details and how James and Mathew had seen every inch of me and then even smacke
d my bare bottom when some of the baby food dropped off the spoon onto my dress.
Oh for heavens sake Alison, that s a new dress and look at it now , snapped Susan Take
it off right this minute before you spill anything else on it .

I shook my head knowing I wasn t wearing a bra but a look from Ryan made me know I
had no choice. I could sense everyone waiting in anticipation to see what I was
going to do
Do as your told young lady and then you can sit on your hands as your obviously n
ot grown up enough to even feed yourself said Ryan with the tone I knew so well.
Jennifer giggled as I stood up and unbuttoned the dress before wriggling it off
and then handing it to Susan. As usual my pink nipples were hard as I exposed my
bare breasts to all of them.
Please can you wash my dress Susan and I m very sorry for getting it dirty
my best little girl voice.

I said in

I returned to the table and hesitated before putting my hands under my bottom an
d sitting on the as I had been told. No one seemed to take much notice until Sus
an saw that Jennifer was the first to clear her plate. I could see a smile sprea
d across Ryan s Mum s face and she could hardly stop herself from laughing as she sp
oke.
Jennifer would you like to feed our naughty little girl since you have finished
e grinned.

sh

Jennifer seemed delighted to be asked to take part in my shameful treatment and


picked up my spoon. With a curt command to Open wide she pushed the spoon inside m
y mouth and waited briefly before pulling it out again. She repeated it several
times and even ran it up my chin as a little baby food dribbled from my mouth ma
king everyone laugh. I kept my hands firmly underneath my bottom and waited eage
rly with my mouth wide open for spoon after spoon of horrid baby food. The bowl
was finally empty and I was congratulated for being such a good girl and eating
it all up.
Right Mrs Jenkins who would you like to give you your bottle laughed Susan deliber
ately highlighting the fact that despite my appearance I was still a married wom
an.
Jennifer giggled excitedly and asked if she could be allowed to give it me. The
taste of the awful baby food was still in my mouth and the thought of some virtu
al 12 year old stranger feeding me a babies bottle was too much.
No, I am 27 I am not a stupid baby!

this isn t fair you cant do this to me

I argued.

Before I had time to gauge the reaction from my outburst Ryan had gripped my ear
tightly and pulled me up to my feet and with his other hand swatted me hard acr
oss the top of my thigh making me squeal.
Get your knickers off this minute my girl!
guests snapped Ryan

.How dare you speak like that in front of

I sniffled childishly and with his hand still holding my ear I struggled to push
my knickers down and stepped out of them. With a another crisp slap to my legs
I was told to put my hands on my head and apologise for my behaviour and ask pro
perly to have my bottom smacked to remind me of my place. I knew I couldn t object
and with the mixture of intense shame and an absurd sort of thrill running thro
ugh me I took a deep breath.
I am so sorry for being a naughty little girl and please may I have my bottom sma
cked Ryan Sir! I spoke the shameful words clearly and as if I genuinely meant ev
ery word which of course I did.

Ryan pulled his chair away from the table and sat down then patted his knee. I w
alked over and caught a glimpse of Jennifer Susan and Mrs Jones watching intentl
y. I laid right over his knee with my palms flat on the floor and my feet on tip
-toe and slightly apart with my bare bottom up nice and high.
Good girl, see you can behave properly if you try cant you Alison

smirked Ryan

Smack
Smack
Smack
The loud sharp stinging slaps echoed round the room as he continued to cover my
entire bottom and soon had me gasping and hissing through my teeth as the sting
began to build up.

I wont, Smack have you, Smack being such a, Smack disobedient, Smack little girl, S
n I tell you to, Smack do something, Smack young lady, Smack is that clear.
With further hard spiteful slaps to my bottom I promised him I would do as I was
told right away and again apologised. More smacks were delivered right to the b
ase of my bottom which had me yelping and again promising to be a good girl.
How old did you say you were then Alison
grand daughter give you your bottle now!

laughed Mrs Jones

Oh yes, yes please may I have my bottle from Jennifer


swer her.

Are you going to let my

I sniffed back my sobs to an

Ryan gave me the hardest slaps of all and told me to stand up and get my fat bar
e bottom in the lounge and wait for the grown ups. I struggled to my feet and ga
ve a childish little dance making them all laugh as I hurried with my boobs and
red bum cheeks jiggling to stand in the corner of the lounge. I could hear them
clearing up and talking about how much I loved being treated like this and how I
always managed to earn myself a smacked bottom almost every day.
I almost jumped out of my skin as I felt a cool hand on my blazing bottom;
Does it really hurt then Mrs Jenkins

asked a concerned Jennifer.

I mumbled that it wasn t that bad really and no where near as painful as the woode
n spoon which I sometimes got when I was really naughty. She giggled again and c
ontinued to feel how hot my bum cheeks were.
Right better come and sit on my lap then and I ll give you your bottle
.

she sniggered

I turned to see her sat on the sofa grinning at my utter shame. I kept my hands
on my head letting her see my bald vagina and hardly felt like a married woman,
about to be bottle fed like a toddler by someone not even half my age. She patte
d her knee and held the bottle up high.
I sat gently on her lap as she exclaimed I was certainly heavier than a real bab
y and eased me backwards and looked down at me. She pushed the teat of the bottl
e in my mouth and I tasted the foul taste of what I imagined must be real baby f
ormula. I sucked hard to get the liquid out of the bottle as the others walked i
n the room to see me laid over her lap being fed the awful stuff. Ryan sat next
to Jenifer as Susan showed Mrs Jones the clothes we had bought earlier.

Susan looked across and laughed at the face I was pulling and told them all it w
as real baby milk and she was going to give me a bottle each morning before I we
nt to work. They thought it was hilarious and Jennifer tipped the bottle up furt
her for me to empty the last drop. I could only lick my lips and mumbled a polit
e thank you as again everyone laughed.
I was allowed to stand up and Susan held up a pair of pink knickers we had got t
his afternoon, she made me step into them like a 2 year old and she tugged them
up my legs. Then she stood up and made me hold my hands in the air to pull a lit
tle pink vest top over my head. I walked up and down showing them how I looked a
nd was told that this was to be my normal clothing now when ever I was home or h
ere at Ryan and Susan s. Then she held up a short navy blue skirt and waited for m
e to step in it so she could zip it up and told me if it was warm I could go out
side like this.
Ryan said how I had enjoyed walking around town showing everyone my knickers so
I would not mind being seen like this and despite blushing I could only agree. M
rs Jones then said she thought the skirt was long enough to cover my knickers un
like the dress I had on earlier so maybe I ought to go without. Ryan thought thi
s was a good idea and then said how I ought to get used to having my knickers ta
ken off and put back on so I better stand in front of Jennifer and ask for them
to be taken down then take them to the next person and ask for them to be put ba
ck on.
I held my skirt up high and took a deep breath,
off Miss Jennifer

Please will you take my knickers

They thought it was wonderful that I had addressed her so politely and she pulle
d them down eagerly smiling up at me as I lifted one foot in turn. She put them
in my hand and told me to go and ask one of the adults to put the back on for me
. With laughter echoing round the room I walked over to Mrs Jones and asked if s
he could please put my knickers on for me. She held them out for me to step into
and smiled that I was learning to behave properly now. The whole routine was do
ne several more times with everyone taking turns to take my knickers right off t
hen put them back on again.
I had to try the rest of the outfits we had bought and parade up and down the ro
om for them to see and congratulate Ryan for his choice and then Mrs Jones looke
d up at the clock and announced she ought to be going soon and could she have th
e bags with my clothes in. Susan said of course and went up to get them as I loo
ked confused at Ryan.
Oh hasn t Mum told you Alison, Mrs Jones has kindly offered to take all your old cl
othes to the charity shop since your not old enough for them any more he smiled
I felt numb and couldn t speak, surely they were not serious. I protested that thi
s wasn t what I had agreed to and how much money they had all cost and how would I
explain it to Steve when he returned in a few months. Jennifer sat openly laugh
ing at how permanent my status would be without any grown up clothes whatsoever.
I stamped my foot in temper and began to get angry.
Oh god no!
foot.

you cant give all my clothes away you just cant!

once again I stamped my

Please, I mean Steve has bought me some of those dresses and me err my lingerie a
nd my shoes , oh god my shoes! I shouted in panic as Ryan stood in front of me.
Take the little girl clothes off now young lady or these will go as well and you
will spend every minute stark naked is that clear he barked.

I was feeling dizzy and so outraged but all I could do was undress and as I stoo
d as naked as the day I was born. Mrs Jones stood in the doorway with the bags i
n her hands. She just grinned and laughed that it was not like I was going to ne
ed them and I obviously loved to be bare for all to see. I was sobbing openly as
Ryan asked her to stay as watch me get a real tanning now for making such a fus
s over a few old clothes.
I shook my head in dismay as Susan handed him a wooden spoon and pulled out the
coffee table in the middle of the room. Mrs Jones sat and said she could spare a
few minutes and Jennifer clapped her hands in glee. Ryan pointed to the table;
That fat arse better be up in the air in 3 seconds my girl or I ll march you to wor
k on Monday in the shortest dress you have and no knickers for them all to see w
hat a baby you are he growled.
I knew he would do it and hurried to kneel on the table and lean right over with
my elbows on the floor. I let out a childish sob and eased my knees wide apart
and dipped my back trying to get my bottom as high as I could. I couldn t care abo
ut my clothes now I knew how much my poor bottom was going to burn and burn with
that dreadful spoon.
Please Ryan Sir , I sniffed between sobs Please may Mr Spoon visit my bare bottom to
show me how grateful I am for everyone helping me behave properly
He lifted my head up with my pony tail so I could see Mrs Jones and Jennifer, Say
thank you for them taking the trouble to give your clothes to someone who is gr
own up enough to wear them he smiled.
Again I sniffed Thank you so much for giving all my clothes away I don t deserve to
wear anything like that any more .
Before I could hear a response from the gloating pair the spoon crashed down mak
ing me squeal out loud. Again and again he swung it hard into my bare bum cheeks
and as I yelled he asked Jennifer to come around and see how sore my bottom loo
ked. She gasped in amazement and commented how marked and how sore it must be an
d then he gave her the spoon and asked if she wanted to add some more colour to
my fat bare bottom.
She smacked the awful spoon down hard right between my spread bum cheeks and lau
ghed at my shrill squeal.
Bet you wish you had another bottle rather than this
more and more.

she sniggered and whacked me

I was crying uncontrollably and she whispered something in Ryan s ear. I heard him
laugh and reply why not and then the cold round handle of the spoon was pressed a
gainst my anus. With a hard push it was right inside me and I could feel it stic
king out in mid air as she let go.
Ryan has said you can come over to Nan s next week I want to potty train you
With more laughter they left and I stayed crying like a baby with the spoon stuc
k up my blazing bottom.

********************************************************************************
***
********************************************************************************
***
OWWWWWW! STAAAAHHHHP! OWWWWW!
The screams went on and on, as did the sound spanks to the bared
upturned bottom which is presently and has been for some time, the
center of attention to the downscending smacks of the punisher's arm.
OHHHHH GAAAAWWWD, I CAN'T TAKE IT! PLEEEEEEEZE! OWWWWWWW!
The twenty-three-year-old female college student wailed like a child,
yet the spanks kept coming!
Nearby, two teen boys and a young girl of eight sat and watched
television, seemingly unimpressed with the scene going on painfully
behind them.
What a scene it was! The tall, slender brunette college woman lay halfnude and draped across the knees of the diminutive sixteen -year-old!
The near six-foot tall colegiate volleyball player's behind was
already a very dark shade of scarlet which stood in bright contrast to
the white-white skin that surrounded the target of her punisher's
attention, namely her female sit-spots!
Suddenly, as if in answer to her prayers, the spanking stopped. Having
long ago ceased trying to escape, she sensed her chance and tried,
once again, to squirm and buck herself free of her punisher's grasp.
"Whoh! You're not even half-done here, young lady! I'm just amping up
the punishment a bit!"
Tawny looked back over her shoulder, and through her tears, saw her
punisher reach over and grab a nasty looking wooden hairbrush which
Tawny was certain she had never seen in her house before! At the
sight, a groan escaped Tawny's ever-opened mouth.
Before Tawny could disseminate the view or take advantage of the lull
in her painful chastisement, down came the new weapon, hard, across
Tawny's already near blistered bottom.
That first smack broke Tawny's resolve and her wails turned to the
endless sobbing of a well punished child. Nevertheless, the smacks
continued falling like an endless cascading summer rain.
The front door swung noisely open and an adult-looking woman strode
in, exclaiming as she did so, "Tawny, you're home from college
early!", only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of her own
daughter, her adult daughter, Tawny, now draped across the knees of
the family's new babysitter, getting what was obviously, the first and
worst spanking of her life!
"Tawny? Heather, what's going on?"
"Oh, hi, Mrs. G.! Just giving Tawny a little lesson in behavior!"

Tawny recognized her chance for salvation and through her choked-back
tears she shouted, "M-MOTHER, HELP ME!"
Tawny's mother looked bewildered and angry. She advanced on the scene
like a tigress defending her cub, only to suddenly stop short, as if
thinking the better of it, and querry, "What's this all about,
Heather?"
"Oh, Mrs. G., I'd rather we keep this between Tawny and I, but , let's
just say, I overheard a phone conversation that I believe earned her
this spanking!"
The woman looked puzzelled. If she was, Tawny was doubly puzzled. Why
wasn't her mother rushing in and tackling this little uberbrat?
The woman spoke softly, "Tawny? Is this true, did she overhear
something bad?"
Tawny sucked back more tears and snot and shouted in righteous
indignation, "She was listening to my PRIVATE conversation, the little
spy!"
"Did she hear something bad?'
Sniff! Sniff!"I don't care, mother! I am NOT a child! Make her stop!"
The woman stood upright and tall and softly remarked, "She is right,
Heather! Would you please just let her go!"
Heather let out a sad sigh and flatly resonded,"Mrs. G., Need I remind
you what happened the last time you disagreed with my decision, Mrs.
G.? Do you want a repeat of that conversation? As it is, I think you
are ALREADY going to have a very tough time sitting still for your
award dinner this evening, just for questioning me. Do you want to
attend the event standing all night?"
The woman quickly colored at the words. Her head dropped and she allbut whispered in response, "No, miss!"
"Good, then go get dinner ready for the kids so you'll still have time
for OUR little "Conversation" before you get ready for tonight! Now,
MARCH!" To herself, she muttered, "and if Mr. G. is late again, I
swear..."
The woman colored deeper at the words but hastily ran off in
obedience.
"Now, little miss, let's see if you ARE a child or not!"
As the smacks resumed and the wails of an obviously very contrite
child wafted out of the house to the streets and houses around, the
small eight year-old gild sat watching television as her older sister
got a very well-deserved and long overdue comeuppance. The young girl
turned to her older brothers and sighed aloud, "Good thing we don't
act like they do, huh? Sounds like she spanks hard!"
The boys nodded their heads in silent agreement as they sat absorbed
in another episode of "Phineus and Ferb"!

Swish-smack! OWWWWW! Swish-smack! OWWWWWWWW!


On and on went the litany of leather smacking bare flesh followed by
the howls of a middle-aged woman in dire distress!
Why was this happening? It wasn't fair. She's WAS the adult here!
Nevertheless, the spanking continued as she lay draped, her bottom
bared, across the knee of this young seventeen-year-old boy who dared
to date her 15 year-old daughter against the girl's parents' wishes!
Nearby, sat the fifteen-year-old, grinning ear to ear. She had warned
her mother not to spank her for seeing Johnny, but her mother would
not listen to reason. Well, she's listening now, isn't she?
True, as spankings went, the one her mother had given her was far from
legendary. Just a few swats to the seat of her dress as she scampered
to keep out of her mother's arm's reach, but it was the principle,
after-all, wasn't it?
I'm certain her mother wasn't concerned about principles right now, or
semantics, or anything else other than stopping this thrashing to her
screaming flesh and upturned behind. She begged, she pleaded, she
threatened, and she cried, oh how she cried! The spanking, well, beltspanking actually, continued, on and on! Her bottom was a swath of
crisscrossing deep-red weels and welts. Hardly an inch of white skin
remained to be seen. If this boy, this biker from the wrong side of
the tracks was anything, he was thorough!
Finally, after what seemed an eternity in hell for the sobbing mother,
the thrashing stopped and she was carefully lifted to a standing,
although sobbing uncontrollably,position.
"There, Mrs. Harding! Let THAT be a lesson to you! Don't judge people
by their covers and don't spank your daughter when she doesn't deserve
it! Got it?"
Mrs. Harding stood there sobbing like a lost child, her hands fumbling
lightly at her exposed red and screaming flesh, trying hopelessly to
find some sort of comfort!
"I said, GOT IT?"
Mrs. Harding looked up through her running mascara, her snot and tears
and finally making eye-contact with her punisher, she nodded her
assent!
"Now, maam, I think your daughter OWES you something! Ashley, take my
seat, and show your mother what you think about moms who spank their
daughters unfairly!"
Mrs. Harding looked at her smiling daughter and groaned aloud in
abject misery.
Ashley took her seat and using her extended finger, beckoned her
mother to her side.
Mrs. Harding remained standing there, motionless, until the crack of
the leather belt broke her resolve and she all-but fell forward and

across her daughter's awaiting lap.


The spanking was already well-begun when the kitchen door burst open
and in walked a bewildered and angered Mr. Harding!
"What the sam-hill is going on here? And what is The-THAT boy doing
here? Ashley?"
Johnny spoke up with a calm and confident, "Mr. Harding, why don't you
and I go discuss this in the garage! It'll all be clear soon, I
promise!"
It was just seconds later a loud scuffle was heard, and then soon
after the unmistakable sound of that belt striking bare flesh again.
If there was any doubt as to what was happeneing, Mr. Harding's lessthan-masculine howls left no doubt.
Ashley smiled, and simply went back to work spanking her mother's
blistered hind-end in union with the howls of her father's obvious
growing distress!
Several hours later, The two adult members of the Harding household
stood next to the kitchen island, bare from the waist down, trying to
enjoy the night's dinner as best they could with blazing rear-ends
still screaming for comfort that would not come. Ashley and Johnny sat
nearby at the same kitchen island, lost dreamily in each-other's gaze.
Johnny finally drawled out, "Gee, Mrs. Harding, I had no idea you were
such a great cook! Thanks for having me stay for dinner! Hope it
wasn't too much of an imposition, you know, considering your, well,
you know!"
Mrs. Harding sniffed back some stray sobs and managed, "No problem at
all, Johnny! I don't usually do much sitting while I cook anyways!" To
which all four broke into a small laugh.
Johnny took a serious demeaner and finally drawled out, "I guess
things are going to be different around here from now on, am I right?"
All three Hardings nodded in agreement!
"...So, I was thinking, maybe I should take over disciplining Ashley
as well, you know, when she misbehaves?"
Now Ashley colored and looked frantically to her parents for their
anger at his words and their rush to give her support!
Both Hardings looked at each other, and then at Johnny, and again
nodded in agreement!
Ashley's face went white.
"Now, that said, I think I need to discuss your daughter's use of
exaggeration to get me angry enough to confront you two here today!
No, don't try to look so innocent little miss! Look at your parents.
Do you think they'll be sitting on a hard-plastic bench tomorrow,
bouncing up and down on their sore backsides like you did earlier at
the malt shop? Don't you think I'd have recognized a well-punished
little brat? Well, it is time you learned the difference! Come here!"

As the still half-dressed elder Hardings cleared the table and did the
dishes together, the sounds of their errant daughter's continuing
spanking was like music to their ears!
Looking long at the young couple engaged in their disciplinary scene,
Mr. Harding remarked," You know, dear, maybe we WERE wrong about this
Johnny fellow!"
A small laugh, and then Mrs. Harding replied, "Well, we'll see how you
feel about him when you try to sit at work tomorrow! And, I have a
rummage sale to do. Guess who's manning the cash register? Maybe I can
wear like ten pairs of cotton underwear!"
They both laughed as mom washed, and dad dried, and little Ashley
cried and cried!
===========================Finis==========================
Just another little brain-drain. I hope it is still working. My ideas
are there, as are sequels to at least five different stories, just no
will-power. It really is the change in venue (new house, etc. ) I'm
just not comfortable in my space yet.
I did finally wipe out all the pics I had stored, freeing needed
memory, so I shouldn't be losing whole stories again like before. That
is a plus. However, still not enough to upgrade browsers for some
reason!!! I'm stumped!
Thanks for all your continued patience. I'll get back in the groove
eventually!
Jim

I learned a valuable lesson, or, should I say, my wife and two grown
daughters learned a valuable lesson on account of a harmless statement
I once made.
You see, I travel quite a bit, so I'm often out of town for weeks, and
count on my wife and two married daughters to care for and watch my
fifteen year-old son, Josh.
One particular Thursday morning, I was sitting at the breakfast table
with Josh and my wife. We were discussing the upcoming weekend, and I
asked who was babysitting Josh, I guess the term "babysit" didn't sit
too well with Josh, and he visibly rankled at my question.
Not one to leave the obvious alone, I queried as to Josh's attitude. He
went on to explain that he was almost sixteen, and still had to have
his sisters "babysit" whenever he was home alone. his friends were left
at home, all alone, sometimes for a week on end. He was the
laughingstock of his peer group, and it wasn't fair, afterall, he was a
straight- A student, president of his class, and on the honor roll
semester after semester. He worked two paper-routes, and even visited
the elderly at the local hospital.

I had to admt, he did have a point. So, being the magnanimous man I am,
I agreed to let him spend the weekend alone, no "babysitters", but that
he had to answer to his sisters should they need to be called for
anything.
Well, this just angrered him all the more. "When will I be trusted to
make the decisions?"
When will I be in charge?"
I looked at him a brief second, and likewise looked to my wife and
stated, "Ok, son, until I return ,"you'll be in charge!"
"Really? You mean it?"
"Yes!" "You've more than earned it. It's only for a few days. So do
your best and make me proud!"
I was, very soon, going to regret my little decision. No, let me
rephrase that, my wife and daughters were going to regret it!
Haz clic aqu para responder
fatherjim_99
11/5/06
Traducir mensaje al espaol
I really should have thought about what I was saying. Afterall, I was
talking with a teenager, and everyone knows how "literal" they can be,
but, to be honest, I never gave it a second thought and was soon on my
way to a convention and meeting in Chicago, where my wife would meet me
on Saturday.
I didn't even flinch when later that night I called and Josh answered
the phone. I asked why he was answering and he replied, "Well, dad, you
did put me in charge, right?"
I laughed and said, "Yeah, yeah, just put on your mother!"
Without even a second's thought Josh replied, "Sorry, dad, but mom's
busy right now, and can't come to the phone!"
"What's she doing?"
"Oh, she's in the middle of writing "her lines". She'll be at it for
some time, I'd imagine! It's hard to write when you can't concentrate,
you know?"
Well, I was tired, and really a little bit confused but chalked that up
to my last three martinis and just asked Josh to," tell her I'm here,
I'm alright, and that I'm looking forward to seeing her Saturday!"
Now Josh sounded a bit rattled. "Oh, well...um. alright, dad, I'll talk
to you tomorrow!"
With that, the line went dead!
Shaking my head a few times, I finally laid back to go to sleep. As I
was slowly allowing the alchohol to take over and drag me into one heck
of a nice sleep, the words "Her Lines" kept coming back to me. What was
that all about? Oh well, there's always tomo......zzzzzzzz!

fatherjim_99
11/5/06
Traducir mensaje al espaol
The next afternoon, I returned to my room to find my phone blinking
away meaning someone had left me a message. I called the front desk to
find out that not only had my wife called , a good half-dozen times,
but my two daughters as well.
I immediately got on the horn and phoned home, fearing something
terrible had happened.
To my relief, Josh answered and sounded just fine. I filled him in on
his mother's six calls, and his sisters' calls as well. Josh calmly
stated that he was sorry that they had scared me, that nothing was
wrong, and that he would deal with all three once he got off the phone.
"Josh"' I stated, "let me talk with your mother!"
"Oh, sorry, dad, but she's not available right now. I'll have her call
you after dinner! Oh. sorry, dad, someone's at the door, I'll call you
later, we do have to talk!"
Again, the phone went dead!
Now, what the heck was going on? Oh well, I'm a patient guy, and dinner
was hours away, so...
off to the lounge for some liquid energy!
Later that night, close to nine, the phone rang, and it was Marilyn, my
wife. She sounded like she had been crying, I know that voice after
twenty-five years of chick-flicks and sappy songs, she wasn't hiding
anything.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
SILENCE....
"Honey?"
All at once, she bursts into tears, and the next thing I know, Josh is
on the line.
"Dad, mom's a little upset right now because she's still upset about
missing your weekend in Chicago!"
"What do you mean, missing it? What's wrong?"
"Nothing really, mom just ran into a little snag in her behavior, and,
well, she's grounded for the weekend!"
Now, I was silent. Grounded? By who?
As if reading my mind, Josh added, "Dad, mom came home home late from
work yesterday smelling of liqour. She was two hours late, and drove
home in no condition to drive. Not to mention, she never even called. I
had to make myself supper, and we missed my parent-teacher conference
at school!"
I was still processing "Grounded" and the rest went right by me.
Finally, my alchohol cleared enough to get the message "DRUNK DRIVING"

across to my bewildered mind.


"Ok, Josh, I think I get it, but, who grounded her?"
"I did! You left me in charge, didn't you? You did mean it, right?"
Well, now he had me! I hadn't really meant it, well, not like he took
it, but, what could I say? If I didn't mean it, well then dad's old
word wasn't worth the breath he wasted on it. I sat in silence for a
few seconds and tried to find some logical way to expain myself out of
this, but the alchohol wasn't being cooperative at all.
With a huge sigh, I accepted defeat and responded, "yes, Josh, you're
in charge! Can I talk to your mother?"
"To be honest with you, dad, mom's being punished right now, and I
don't think phone privileges are in order. Sorry to have her ruin your
weekend. Just enjoy yourself, and we'll see you Sunday night!"
I couldn't believe it, my own son, he sounded so in control, so
positive, so
grown-up!
I said my goodbye, and soon drifted off to sleep only to be awoken
several hours later by a phone literally screaming itself off the
shelf. It was my oldest daughter, Sherry!
Sherry was twenty-two, married for two years, and had one little girl,
Amy, my pride and joy. Sherry didn't sound too happy.
"Dad, do you know what the heck is going on at home? Well, that little
monster is bullying mom, and Katy (my second oldest at twenty-one) went
over there hours ago to see what was what, and
last I heard, Josh had called her husband and told him Katy was
spending the weekend with him and mom. Dad, I'm worried. I gave Katy
express orders to call me with an update, and you know she always
listens to my orders! (She was right about that!) What are we going to
do?"
Well, I wasn't about to explain what I had said and what had resulted.
I was in no mood to get reamed out by my own daughter, so I played
dumb. So what if her mother was grounded? Heck, drinking and driving,
she would have blistered the kids' heineys thirteen shades of purple
for the same offense. As a matter of fact, both Sherry and Katy had
been spanked for a similar offense when they were engaged. Well, she's
lucky she's only grounded!
"Look, Sherry, it's late, and there's nothing I can do while I'm in
Chicago. Look, do me a favor, just drop by tomorrow, and see what's up.
Just give me a call later and fill me in, OK?"
I could tell she wasn't too happy, and finally she added, hey, maybe
I'll spend the weekend as well, sort of a self-invited sleep-over! I
need some time away, and it will be great father-daughter bonding time
for Pete and Amy! Yeah....see-ya, daddy, I'll call later!"
With that, I drifted back to sleep!
11/5/06

fatherjim_99

Traducir mensaje al espaol


The next morning I was awoken by that infernal phone again. I forced
myself awake and answered. It was Sherry. She was obviously upset. She
was speaking much too fast, and in between her sobbing and whispering,
I couldn't figure out what she was saying. I caught bita and pieces and
finally figured out that she'd been spanked.
"Who spanked you, Sherry, Pete? What? Who will hear? Sherry you're not
making any sense!"
The phone went dead.
I was just about to call home when the phone rang. I answered,
"Sherry?", but it wasn't, it was my boss, and he was calling to ask me
a favor. Of course, not thinking, I replied. "Anything!"
That anything was an emergency trip to Atlanta, and at least a week in
Dallas following my putting out the particular fire that needed my
expertise in Atlanta. So, I was soon off to Atlanta!
I had finally called home only to get the machine. I left the message
that I'd be gone for at least a week and-a-half, and added, really in
jest, that everyone had best be on their best behavior, after-all, Josh
was in charge! With a chuckle, I went off to catch my plane.
It wasn't until that night that I realized just what my little words
had done. I called again and Josh answered. I asked if his mother was
still under "restriction" and he replied "Yes, dad, she's grounded for
the week!"
I asked if a week was a little too harsh and he went on to state, Well,
dad, if she had accepted her punishment right from the start, she'd
have been with you for the weekend, but mom's a slow learner. I asked
her to go to her room, and she refused, so I spanked her. I asked her
again, and she still refused, and cussed me out as well!"
"What? You-you spanked her?"
"Good and proper! Then I spanked her even worse the second time! Had to
wash her mouth out with soap for cussing me! I made her write a hundred
times, "I will obey my son's orders", that's when you called. It took
her over an hour to write those silly lines. If she had apologized, all
would have been forgiven! Mom just wouldn't learn, so I had to ground
her!"
I was too shocked to speak. What had I done?
"Son, Katy and Sherry were coming over, what did they think about all
this?"
"Well, dad, I tried to explain it all, but, you know those girls, they
just wouldn't listen. so, I had to show them who was in charge!"
"Son, you didn't, I mean..., you didn't punish them as well!"
"Sorry, dad, wrong on that count. I had to tan Katy twice and Sherry
standing right next to me, bare-bottomed, and vert sorry about getting
you so upset over nothing. In fact, she has something to tell you!"
"H-hello, d-daddy, I-I just wanted to, sniff, sniff, s-say I-I'm

so-so-sorrreee f-for calling you! Sniff!


Dahhh-deee, p-please, h-help us! Sniff! Sob!"
I heard Sherry rewarded for her plea with a loud meaty smack, I
imagined to her bottom, and I heard Josh order her back to stand next
to Katy and mom in the corner. I could even hear the sobs of the other
two mingling with Sherry's!
fatherjim_99
11/5/06
Traducir mensaje al espaol
Well, I was in a pickle. Here I was in Atlanta. There was little else I
could do but caution Josh to be fair-minded and not too harsh with the
girls. I reminded him that being in charge carried grave responsibility
and if he was ready to give it up, I'd understand.
"Dad, you said I'd be in charge until you returned, and I aim to keep
my end of the bargain!"
Heck, what could I say? When a kid's right, he's right!
It would be almost two weeks until I returned home, and true to his
word, Josh immediately went back to his role as dutiful son and loving,
albeit pesky, brother.
My home? Well, things were differnet. My wife seemed more punctual, the
house was cleaner, and she hardly ever gave me any lip. My daughters
didn't seem to visit as often, but they, likewise, didn't meddle in our
affairs. Both Sherry and Katy seemed to treat Josh quite differently,
it took me a while, but I figured it out, they "respected" him, truly
and totally. I don't think they were ever closer.
My sons-in-law both called me and asked what I did to their wives, and
I told them to talk to Josh. Guess things were different at their homes
as well. Josh was very prudent and never shared what had happened, yet
he was more than willing to give his brothers-in-law a few pointers on
keeping their wives on the straight and narrow!
Needless to say. No more "Babysitters" for Josh. He'd probably end up
spanking THEM and then I'd have to pay them to-boot! Yes, Josh is now
in charge whenever I leave home and he's been asking me about my
"behavior" on these business trips, especially my drinking. I know he
wants to "take control" over that situation as well. I'll just have to
watch what I say from now on!
bratdad123a
11/5/06
Traducir mensaje al espaol
fatherjim_99 wrote:
>
>
>
>
>

Yes, Josh is now


in charge whenever I leave home and he's been asking me about my
"behavior" on these business trips, especially my drinking. I know he
wants to "take control" over that situation as well. I'll just have to
watch what I say from now on!

Just give in to the inevitable and bare your butt, lying over his kids'
knee is a Dad's natural place! :lol:

What a deliciously cute story!


It was late one winter's Wednesday evening when the phone rang at Mrs Bentley's
thatched roof cottage. Constance Bentley, a slim, well proportioned lady in her
late 50's and recently divorced from her slapdash of a husband Bruce of some 25
years put aside her sewing and went to answer it. It was her daughter, Abigail,
on the other end of the line sounding, well, quite upset by all accounts. Const
ance was a little shocked as to be expected. "Abigail dear," she asked concerned
, "Whatever is the matter ?!"
Her daughter took after her both in good looks and deportment. Even though she w
as dark and her daughter blonde. Her daughter was also a headstrong girl of nine
teen who had been married to George, a city broker, for some 3 months and they h
ad moved into a large stately home nearby thankfully. It sounded like her precio
us pumpkin was crying. What on earth had happened ? Had there been an accident ?
Was she alright ? She clutched the phone closer to her ear and listened as her
daughter spoke. "M..mer..Mummy, c..can you you come round quickly. I....that is,
George wants to...wants to speak to you right this m..mer minute...please Mummy
." whimpered her daughter sniffily.
Where her daughter was concerned nothing was too good. "Of course dear, I shall
get my coat and be there forthwith. Don't cry pumpkin, I'm sure whatever the pro
blem is we can sort it out. Leave the backdoor on the latch and I'll be there in
about 5 minutes. Is that husband of yours home from work yet ?" There was a pau
se.
"Y..yes Mummy, he's right here....waiting for you." she finished enigmatically.
Constance frowned. She didn't know what to make of that. Perhap's they'd had an
argument. "Well, can't stand around thinking about it." she thought to herself.
If that oaf of a husband has been upsetting her pride and joy there'd be hell to
pay. "I'm on my way sweetie, won't be long...."
*
Pulling to a stop in her daughter's driveway, Constance got quickly out of her c
ar and went round to the back of the house to enter through the rear entrance. C
uriously, she noticed that her daughter's two cats were sitting on the kitchen w
indow sill watching intently at something happening inside. She noticed that all
the front lights were off too, apparently the only one on was at the rear in th
e kitchen. Reaching the backdoor, she clicked it open without knocking and made
her way along the hall towards where a sliver of light shone between a gap in th
e door. Just as she was about to open it she head her daughter pleading to someo
ne.
Hesitant, she stopped and listened. It was her daughter: "No darling, please don
't, pleeeeeeease don't do that. You know I don't like that. I swear I won't ever
...ever...EVER do that again. I'm sorry, I really really am. No George...you..yo
u can't, I'm too old for another spanking and my Mother will be here too in a mi
nute !!" cried her daughter's voice in rising alarm.
Constance, hidden in shadow, heard her daughter's husband stop short Abigail's p
leadings. He sounded seriously angry.
"Oh, so that's who you were on the phone too upstairs hmmm ? Good, the sooner sh
e gets here the better then. She'll learn what a willful and naughty daughter sh
e has. I've never been so embarrassed in all my life Abigail. Its time you damme
d well learned to grow up. This time I'm going to make sure I teach you a lesson
you won't soon forget. Now stop struggling and come here !!"

Constance stood listening wide-eyed with amazement. Crikey, what was he so angry
about and why was her daughter pleading with him ?!! He shouldn't be talking to
her flesh and blood like that !! What was he talking about when he ordered her
to "STOP struggling ?!!" Trying not to make a noise, she lent forward and peeked
through the gap to see what was happening.
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
*
Abigail pulled and tugged at her husband's hand trying to break free from his vi
ce like grip. She loved him dearly but he could be so.. so stubborn and unreason
able at times. She knew what was coming. It had happened once or twice before wh
en she'd been petulant and childish. The first time had even been on their weddi
ng night. What an experience that had been !! Maybe telling him that she had had
a headache because she'd sipped to much champagne at their reception wasn't suc
h a good idea. Not only had she surrendered her virginity that night but that of
her bottom too !!! George suddenly gave a sharp tug and with a squeak she tumbl
ed over his lap leaving her bum sticking up towards the ceiling. It was just her
luck she was wearing a loose skirt under her apron leaving her poor bum covered
in nothing more than a pair of flimsy white panties. Well, they most certainly
wouldn't offer her cheeks much protection at all !!! Still struggling furiously,
Abigail squealed a loud "No darling NO !!" as she felt him grip her panties and
haul them down to her ankles in one swift yank.
"Now my girl, let's deal with this bottom of yours again then shall we ?" he sai
d in that tone which made her heart skip a beat.
The beastly beast !! Before she could conjure up other apt names she felt a whoo
sh of air and a sudden SWAT. His first spank landed across her mid-ships causing
her to jerk with shock and the pain of it. "OOO GEORGE NOOOO IT STINGS !!!" she
yelped trying to kick free. But it was no use. He had her waist in a vice like
grip. He really meant it. She was just going to have to take a bloody good thras
hing as he called it. CRACK. "WOW OW NOT SO HAAAAARD DARLING !!!!" she cried out
loud again. Ouch, that one had really stung. Her bottom was stinging terribly a
nd he'd only spanked it twice !! She'd just have to grin and bear it. She only w
ished he'd get on with it.
But George ignored her plea's. He lifted his hand again and brought it down good
and hard across the crown of both his lovely wife's cheeks. Naturally, she yell
ed the house down. His eye's noticed the time on the kitchen clock hanging on th
e wall. He smiled wryly.
Abigail was having hysterics. She kept bouncing up and down on his sturdy thighs
and twisting her head to keep an eye on the door. Her heart was pounding. "Oh p
lease get a move on darling, hurry!!!" she gasped as another spank rocked her be
hind. "Mummy will be here soon, she can't see me like this...she just can't !!"
Her husband brought his palm down again....hard.
*
Constance stood frozen to the spot as she heard her flower give another "OOOOOUC
H !!!" as that monstrous so-called husband of her's walloped her bare bottom aga
in. She was completely gobsmacked. Who on earth does he think he is ??? She was
so shocked she wondered if she should call the Police and have him arrested. He
can't do that to her !! She'd have to put a stop to it, right now. She was most
certainly going to give him a piece of her mind whatever she decided. Sticking o
ut her chin, she pushed open the door and burst into the room just as he was hel
ping her weeping daughter stagger to her feet where she stood rubbing furiously

on her naked, red and sore buttocks.


"MUMMY !!!!" squeaked Abigail, her hands covering the gasp from her lips.
Constance was in full flow. She approached George who was still sitting on his c
hair. He was staring intently at her, so intently in fact that she nearly lost t
he courage to confront him. Nearly but not quite. "Now look here young man." she
fumed, pointing a finger at him." Just who do you think you are punishing my da
ughter like that ?!!" She was so angry her face was turning red. "I'll have you
know I'm seriously thinking of having you arrested for such disgraceful behaviou
r. You can't spank her bare bottom just like that and think you can get away wit
h it, its....well, its just not allowed !!" Constance turned to her daughter. "G
o pack some things pumpkin, you can come stay with me tonight. You're not stayin
g here with this..this brute !!" she ordered as she stood with hands on hips.
"Wh..what ?" sniffed Abigail, glancing at her husband who had started to rise to
his feet. Both the women took a step back - just in case. "B..ber..but I can't
do that Mummy. He's my husband, we were just...just..." she stopped helplessly a
nd slipped both her hands back under her skirt to massage her bumcheeks.
"Are you going to tell her or shall I Abigail ?" said George.
Constance looked from one to the other then back again. "Tell me what ?"
Abigail bit her lip. "I...I've been a a... naughty girl Mummy and and...George w
as giving me a spanking because I'd made a bit of a scene at a party we were inv
ited too last night. It was all my fault."
Constance stared at her daughter then at her husband who she noticed uneasily ha
d come to stand right in front of her. "Even so dear, he...he just can't spank y
ou. You're a grown woman for heaven's sake !!"
George, taller than her by some 6 inches, lent forward. "Maybe if you'd taught h
er some manners when you raised her she wouldn't have turned out like she has. S
he's naughty, disrespectful and sometimes downright rude in company. Do you want
to know why I'm punishing her tonight Constance ?"
His face was so close she could feel his breath on her own. She was suddenly uns
ure of herself. All she could do was nod and gulp. This wasn't going as she had
planned at all !!
"We were at an office reception yesterday evening. I was chatting with some pros
pective clients when she suddenly slapped one of the Director's on the cheek and
stormed off saying he had pinched her bottom !!" he explained in a low voice th
at gave Constance goosebumps.
Constance gasped. "Had he ?" she asked Abigail who stood, head bowed, chewing on
her lower lip.
Abigail shook her head. "No Mummy, I made it up." she whispered.
"You did what? Why for goodness sake ?" Constance was speechless.
Abigail glanced shamefaced at both of them. "B...because I w...wanted to go home
. I..I was bored."
Constance blinked. She couldn't believe her daughter was saying such things. Geo
rge was right. She had been naughty and downright disrespectful. Maybe he was ri
ght, maybe she hadn't brought her daughter up to have good manners and grace aft
er all. It suddenly occurred to her that she had been far too lenient with her o

nly child. In a way, it was her fault after all. For once she didn't know what t
o say. She should just apologise and go home. "Oh...Abigail, how could you ?!" w
as all she could muster.
But George had other idea's.
*
"George....you can't be serious !!" - "Darling....y..you can't do that to my Mum
my !!" Constance and Abigail said in unison. They were both staring at him in to
tal shock and surprise.
George smiled. "Oh, and why not ?" he said. "She's admitted that it's as much he
r fault as yours dear. If a spanking's good enough for you, then a spanking's go
od enough for your mother. Don't you agree Constance ?"
Constance glanced at the door wondering if she should make a run for it. Thing w
as, she could hardly move her legs, she was rooted to the spot. "Of course not,
don't be so downright stupid. Do you honestly think I'd allow you to spank my ba
re bottom Sir ?"
"Indeed I do." countered George."I'm not surprised your daughter has turned out
the way she has judging by your reaction Constance. Seems to me that you're a ba
d rolemodel, you've let her run rings round you for all these years. Never keepi
ng her in check and always pandering to her every whim. Its not her that needs a
lesson Constance....its you."
As she listened to his words, Constance knew with mounting guilt that he was rig
ht. It was she who needed to be taught a lesson.
*
"Stand over there darling." said George as he re-took his seat. Abigail was in a
daze.
"Yes dear." she said, not quite believing what was happening in their kitchen. W
hat was happening was she was about to see her husband spank her mother's bare b
ottom.
"Are you ready Constance ?" asked George as he raised his hand.
"No I am not !!" she replied haughtily, but nevertheless hesitantly slipping her
hand into his. "But you are right. If my daughter can be spanked for being disr
espectful the least I can do is take a spanking for being so so...." her words t
ailed off.
"It's all right Mummy. George understands. Don't you George ?" said Abigail brig
htly. For some strange reason she was quite looking forward to seeing her Mummy
punished. Her Mummy had always been the bossy one of the family. Her Daddy had n
ever got a look in side-ways. Mummy was always ordering him around and complaini
ng about everything under the sun. Nothing he ever did was good enough for her.
No wonder he wanted a divorce !! Maybe if her dear Daddy had put his foot down a
bit more and did what her husband was about to do to Mummy's bottom things woul
dn't have got that far. She had always felt sorry for her father. It wasn't his
fault his wife was a bit of a shrew. Abigail stood back as George pulled her mot
her towards him.
Constance tried tugging her hand away but it was no use. George held her in a fi
rm grip. She was going nowhere. His hand dwarfed her own as she realised how big
a man her daughter's husband really was. Maybe she should yell for help !! But

it was too late for he was telling her what he was going to do to her. "Now Cons
tance," he began sternly. "You know why I'm about to spank your bottom don't you
?"
Constance stared at the black and white tiled floor. "Yes...I think so." she sni
ffed resignedly.
"You think ?" he replied sharply, his voice rising.
Constance gulped. If she wasn't careful she'd make him really angry and that wou
ld make him give her a real good walloping by no mistake. She nodded quickly. "I
t..it's because I've been...." she frowned. Been what ? A bad mother ? Only in s
o much that she had merely pampered her daughter as she was growing up. What the
n ? She was that stubborn she didn't want to admit anything. What had her daught
er said again ? Oh, yes....that word. The "n" word. N for naughty. But she was a
well educated, sophisticated and mature lady ?!! Did women ever stop or grow ou
t of being naughty ? She glanced at her daughter who still stood rubbing her red
bottom. Apparently not. Least not in her son-in-laws household. She chewed on h
er lip.
"Been what ?" said George, interrupting her thoughts.
Constance wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Her mouth was dry but
she still managed to whisper a pouting. "Naughty.....I've been a naughty girl."
*
Constance was trying to be brave and stoical but as her spanking continued, deli
vered with relish and gusto by her son-in-law she was beginning to fail miserabl
y. At the commencement of her thrashing, he'd juggled her twisting body over his
lap until he had her bottom at just the right height then, oh how embarrassing
!!, he'd grabbed the hem of her full skirt and slowly tugged it over her black p
antied bottom leaving it tucked in above her hips. Constance was mortified. She
turned bright red and had started to rise. "No, wait. I'm sorry. This has been a
terrible mistake George. Let me up or else there'll be hell to pay !!" George's
response was to instantly and with skilled ease whip off her panties in a flash
leaving her bare. "GEORGE !!!!" she had squeaked with alarm. "Not in front of A
bigail PLEASE !!!"
But it was too late and in a thrice he began to introduce her fullsome backside
to the dubious delights of being spanked for the first time. SLAP. The next in a
seemingly never-ending line of SLAPS landed with breath expelling force across
already two sets of sizzling bottom cheeks with such a CRACK that Constance even
forgot to cry out. All she could do was screw her eyes tight shut and hope that
he would be satisfied soon and be dammed with it. But he wasn't. She was about
to learn one thing, and that was George was nothing if not thorough in his deeds
. SMACK. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhhhh oooooooooooooo...." she shouted this time
for his palm had landed so hard she could feel her bottom flattening out into a
shallow bowl before bouncing back obscenely into its former full shape leaving o
nly the white imprints on glowing red of his fingers.
Abigail meanwhile stood transfixed, watching wide eyed and open mouthed as her g
ood, kind, loving but masterful husband belaboured her Mummy's, to her surprise,
rather large derriere. Crikey, he was certainly giving it some stick. By now, f
ive minutes of none stop spanking and yelling had passed. It had turned her Mumm
y's bottom from a rather pasty white through to a nice reddish sunrise glow then
to what must now feel like a raging furnace tomato red. It looked ever so painf
ul. Abigail knew how her Mummy was feeling. She'd been on the receiving end of o
ne or two of George's wallopings and could bear witness to how much they bloody
hurt. Her eyes glanced at the clock. Seven minutes. A seven minute spanking. Her

Mummy wouldn't forget this in a hurry. She wouldn't be surprised if she never s
et foot in her house again after this !! She looked at George who was concentrat
ing intently on making sure he covered ever single part of her mother's rump. Al
ong the top, just under the spine, over and across to both side's and finally, t
o Mummy's obvious horror, along the bottom's of both cheeks to where flabby fles
h met sturdy thigh. OOooo ouch, she knew how much THAT hurt too !!!!!
By ten minutes Constance had been transformed from a calm, considered and assure
d woman into a screeching, sore and very, very sorry naughty lady. "AAAAAAAAAAAG
HHHHHHH," she wailed as her spanking continued. "STOOOOOOOOOOOOP PLEASE....IT HU
RTS SO MUCH !! OH MY POOR BOTTY !!!! I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRY SIR, I'M SORRY !!!!!
" Oh she was. She was really really sorry. She was one soundly spanked big girl.
She promised him she'd never ever be so naughty again. As the clock began to st
rike the hour, her bottom endured a sudden flurry of rapid slapping spanks that
had her screaming, kicking and pleading. One, two, three, four, five, six and fi
nally seven. The tears were streaming down her cheeks and her bottom felt twice
its normal size. Her bottom no longer felt the sharp sting of each spank, it had
gone a sort of humming numb that buzzed signals to and from her brain. She was
breathing heavily and sweating. Her legs and thighs were apart. So much for her
modesty. At that moment she couldn't care less. Let him see that she was bare al
l over. She couldn't even give two hoots about her daughter being there either !
! Just let him stop !!
Actually, George had. "Abigail, come here and help your mother to her feet and f
etch a hankie too." he said as his young wife quickly moved to help her up. Cons
tance grunted and groaned as she eased to her feet. Wincing, she fell into her d
aughters arms.
"Oh Mummy, there, there. Its over now." hushed her daughter giving her a hug. Th
en with a twinkle in her eye said. "It bloody stings doesn't it !!"
Constance, despite her agonies, nodded, blew into the hankie and dried her eyes
then gave her daughter a slight re-assuring smile. "OOooo it does dear. A lot !!
!"
George sat watching as both women stood, skirts bunched up, knickers to their kn
ee's comparing and rubbing their freshly spanked bottoms. He smiled inwardly. No
w here was a situation that could prove interesting indeed !!
*
A few days later,
"George !!" shouted Abigail as she stood at the sink doing the dishes. "Mummy's
here !!" she called seeing her mother coming up the rain sodden path.
Constance came into the kitchen and took off her coat and hat. "My, what a rainy
day !!" she laughed as George came in to take her things and put them near the
radiators to dry. "Am I late ?" asked Constance, her eyes darting to her daughte
r's husband nervously.
Abigail started to giggle. "Mummy, you are so predictable these days. Of course
you're late. You always make sure you're late otherwise George wouldn't be able
to punish your bottom would he ?!!" she teased.
Constance made a face and stepped up quickly to slap her daughter's bottom sharp
ly. "George is right, I should of done this a long time ago when you were growin
g up !!"
"OUCH. That hurt Mummy !!" Abigail cried out, turning and rubbing the hurt spot.

"Darling, are you going to let her get away with that ? I think Mummy's been a
bad girl again, don't you sweetie ?"
George removed his pipe. "Now pumpkin, don't be jealous. I'll deal with you late
r alright ? " he smiled, giving his beloved a quick peck on the cheek as she sto
od pouting with disappointment. Didn't her husband know that she needed her bum
dealt with too ?!! . Why was it Mummy always got preferential treatment ? But he
had already turned to Constance who was standing licking her lips, her hands al
ready caressing her bottom through her tweed skirt in anticipation. "So then Con
stance, what do you fancy being thrashed with today hmmmm?"
Constance didn't even bat an eye-lid. "OH, lots and lots of good whippy hard one
's from that big leather slipper of yours George please. As many as you like dea
r. Just remember to give me them good and hard !!!"
So much for happy and extended families.
http://spankingstoriesuk.blogspot.mx/

Meg donovan
Paddling Booth 1
Sun May 22, 2011 17:38
69.121.96.23
This is posted as a tribute to the author.
My name is Danny Deeter and I live with my parents in the Shady Grove Mobile Hom
e Community, which is right in the middle of Ozymandias County, which is right i
n the middle of nowhere. My dad, Don Deeter, is a shit-sluice operator at the Co
ntinental Crap Sewage Reclamation Plant, which is the only major employer in the
county. My mom, Darlene Deeter, is a cashier at the Con-Crap Co-Op, which every
one calls Crap-Mart. Everybody shops there because it's all there is around here
. There's not much to do in Ozymandias County so any opportunity for entertainme
nt is welcome. This is the story of how I created a lot of entertainment at the
school carnival when I was 12 and made a pile of cash besides, with my mom as an
unwitting accomplice.
My best friend Bobby Lee and I had everything set up and ready to go by the time
Mom showed up that warm Saturday morning at the Ozymandias County Junior High S
pring Fair and Carnival. (Bobby and I had been best friends since his family emi
grated here from Virginia when we were both 6.) At the age of 12 I still thought
my mom was the hottest woman in the world and it was plain from the looks that
the men and boys at the carnival gave her that some of them came close to sharin
g my opinion. I could see their eyes following her as she walked toward us acros
s the dry grass of my school's all-purpose athletic field, where the carnival wa
s set up. Tall and slender with long, curly brown hair, nice shaped boobs, thoug
h not too big, and a firm, round rear end that all the males behind her were obv
iously focusing on. She was wearing a sleeveless knit dress, white with little b
lue flowers on it, tight down to her hips then hanging loose and swingy to the h
em just above her knees. Her legs were bare and she had on a pair of high-heeled
sandals made out of this kind of basket-like material that matched her purse.
Can you see why some of the feelings I had about my mom were not exactly the kin
d you would want to tell anybody about? I mean, I didn't want to have sex with h
er or anything but, damn she was hot. "Hi, Danny! Hi, Bobby!" she called out wit
h a smile and a big wave when she spotted us.
Before I could say a thing, Mr. Armstrong, the principal of our school (a short,

fat, bald-headed dipshit) came running over and shook Mom's hand. "Mrs. Deeter,
" he said, "I can't tell you how grateful we all are to you for volunteering thi
s way! When Danny came up with this idea I had my doubts, but he insisted that y
ou would go along with it and I certainly believe it will raise a lot of money f
or the school. I just want to thank you for being such a good sport. Not many pa
rents would do something like this. You're a real heroine, Mrs. Deeter!"
"Well, uh, you're welcome," Mom stammered in response, a little confused by the
whole thing. To tell the truth I hadn't been too specific about what her part in
my great plan was going to be, only that her participation was vital and that i
t would raise a lot of money for a good cause. Just then though, I knew I had to
get her away from big-mouthed Mr. Armstrong before he told her too much and sca
red her off.
"Come on, Mom!" I half-whined, taking hold of her left hand (Mr. Armstrong still
had a grip on her right) and pulling her away as if I were just anxious to show
her the project I'd put so much work into.
"OK, I'm coming," she said. "Sorry to rush off, Mr. Armstrong. I'm sure I'll see
you later."
"Absolutely!" Mr. Armstrong agreed. "I'll be keeping a close eye on your son's e
xhibit, I certainly will!" As Bobby pitched in to help me drag Mom over to the b
ooth we could hear the principal yelling, "That boy of yours is a genius, Mrs. D
eeter! A genius!" Our principal was just about as complete a jackass as any one
man could be.
"Oh, my," Mom commented when she saw what I had put so much time and creativity
into constructing. The booth was built around a stout wooden workbench from my s
hop class, about 6 feet long, and 20 inches wide. The sides and front were cover
ed with canvas and the back was left open. Placed in the middle of the flat top
was a basket of tennis balls and behind the booth was big plywood target, mounte
d on a 2 by 4 frame, with a tennis ball-sized hole right in the middle of it. Ha
nd painted on the canvas front of the booth was "Paddling Booth -- $1.00; Try Yo
ur Skill; Ring The Bell And Paddle Danny's Mom."
Mom seemed less than enthusiastic when she read the sign but I told her that lit
tle hole with the bell hidden inside was almost impossible to hit and encouraged
her to try it and see. She did and came nowhere near it. Sensing that she was s
oftening to the idea I moved in for the close. "Even if a few of them do manage
to ring the bell," I assured her, "they're just kids. How hard could they hit? Y
ou aren't afraid of 12 year olds, are you?" In point of fact, since the school e
ncompassed grades 7 and 8, about half of the students were 13 and few were 14 bu
t I saw no reason to bring that up.
"No, of course not," she said, still sounding a little unsure.
"That's the spirit, Mom!" I replied as if she had whole-heartedly agreed.
"Come on, Mrs. Deeter," Bobby encouraged, "we'll help you get into position."
Mom laughed and went along with the game as we led her around the booth until sh
e saw the paddle hanging on its hook on the side. I had made it in wood shop and
it had been a true labor of love. It was just under half an inch thick and made
of solid ash, the stuff they make baseball bats out of, finely sanded, heavily
varnished and polished to mirror smoothness. Its 'business end' was 3 inches wid
e and 16 inches long and its handle was long enough for a good 2-handed grip. Mo
m's eyes got as big as saucers when she caught sight of my masterpiece of woodcr
aft; she stopped suddenly and said, "Uh, wait a minute, here. Maybe we ought to
rethink this."

"There's no time for that, Mom," I insisted, pulling on both her hands while Bob
by pushed from behind. "The carnival's already started! Every minute we waste is
money that won't be made for the school. You want to help the school, don't you
?"
"Of course I do," she sighed as we guided her into position. Bobby took her purs
e and stashed it under the booth for safekeeping.
"Great!" I said. "Then just stand here behind the booth, right here at the end,
lean over, rest on your elbows and grip the front edge."
"Like this," she asked, doing as I'd instructed. As she leaned over the hem of h
er dress went up to about mid-thigh in back.
"Yeah," I said. "Just like that."
Bobby moved to the front of the booth and quickly fastened Mom's wrists into a p
air of Velcro straps that were nailed to the edge of the counter top. "Don't wor
ry, Mrs. Deeter," he said when she started to object, "it's just for show. Showm
anship, you know. That's what makes a successful carnival display."
"Yeah," I agreed. "And that's what brings in lots of money, too."
"Yeah," Bobby averred.
"Well, OK," Mom assented. "As long as it's for a good cause."
"Oh, it is!" I assured her.
Bobby stepped back a bit to take in the whole picture and gave me a thumbs up. M
om and I were both behind the booth, her leaning forward over the top at the rig
ht end, from Bobby's point of view. The direction of his eyes told me that he wa
s getting a good look down the front of her dress, I hadn't thought of that befo
re but it would definitely help to draw a crowd. I was standing behind the left
side, ready to hand out the tennis balls and take the money, the target waited b
ehind and between us and that hand-painted sign told potential customers everyth
ing they needed to know. Almost everything, that is.
Actually there was a little more to the whole set up than I had let Mom in on. I
t was true that the target was almost impossible to hit because the hole was har
dly bigger than the tennis ball and if you didn't hit it right on it would just
bounce off the edge. However, it was also true that hitting the target wasn't th
e only way to ring the bell. There was a lever under the booth that I could push
with my foot, which would pull a carefully concealed cord that would cause the
bell to ring just as if the target had been hit.
For helping in the design and construction of the Paddling Booth, Bobby Lee and
the Finnegan twins, Pat and Mike, would get to ring the bell every time they tri
ed. They could play for free but everyone else would have to pay. Bobby and the
twins would pass the word around quietly that anyone who slipped an extra buck t
o yours truly was guaranteed a hit, in more ways than one. That would bring in a
lot more business than if we were playing it straight so the school would end u
p making more money and I would bring home a bundle besides. On top of that, eve
ryone would have a great time, not just the participants but also the crowd of o
nlookers that would get the rare privilege of seeing a grown woman soundly spank
ed by a bunch of 12 and 13 year-olds. It was a win-win situation, really.

Meg donovan
Paddling Booth 2
Sun May 22, 2011 17:39
69.121.96.23
For everybody but Mom that is, she was about to spend the entire afternoon havin
g her rear end paddled by a horde of junior-high kids in front of the whole scho
ol, including the faculty and most of the parents. I was pretty sure she wouldn'
t have gone along with that part of the plan so I neglected to fill her in on it
. That was the real reason for the wrist straps, that way she couldn't turn arou
nd to watch the target and maybe notice that some of the winning pitches had obv
iously not hit the mark. Of course, other people would probably catch on but, as
I've said before, entertainment is scarce in Ozymandias County and no one would
want to be known as the person who spoiled this much fun.
The only one who might have messed things up, if he were there, was my dad. On t
he other hand, he might have thought it was just great. He had a paddle of his o
wn that he kept hanging from a nail in the wood paneling of our trailer's living
room. It was made of cedar and wasn't as long or as thick as the one the ash on
e I'd made in wood shop, a fact I took a lot of pleasure in. (I don't know if I'
d heard of the Oedipus Complex by then but I guess mine was more complex than mo
st.) Dad had used that paddle on me now and then but I'd seen him put it to good
use on Mom's butt many times over the years. It was mostly in a spirit of playf
ulness but he always gave her a good walloping.
My first erections, before I even knew what they were, had happened watching my
mom, stretched out over my dad's lap on the couch, kicking and squealing like a
little girl while he laid that paddle across her upturned bottom with glee and g
usto. Dad plainly enjoyed spanking her in front of me, almost as if it were just
for my entertainment. Sometimes he even handed me the paddle and let me give he
r a few swats while he held her in place on his lap. Hey, some families bowl tog
ether, our family spanks together, I'll take it over bowling any day. If he was
at the carnival, though, it's likely that he would have tried to take over. But
that wasn't going to be a problem; he was working Saturdays all this month and w
ouldn't be able to make it. It looked like I was in charge of the show.
The kids started lining up right away I got into my carnival barker routine, sho
uting, "Step right up, folks! It's just one dollar! Ring the bell and swat the l
ady's behind!" I saw Mom tense up a bit when the first one threw, then relax whe
n she heard the dull thud of the ball hitting outside the bull's-eye.
After the second one missed she got into the act herself, laughing and saying, "
Nyah, nyah nyah, you missed!" When the next one missed she started taunting the
crowd, "Think you can do any better? Go ahead and try! Ha-ha-ha!" I could see wh
at she was doing; confident that no one was going to get a hit she was trying to
get them mad enough to try anyway. She was a natural at this, before long she h
ad them all fired up to see her get what was coming to her for teasing them that
way. Some of the parents and teachers were standing around watching and they we
re all getting into the spirit too. Everyone loudly encouraged each pitcher and
there was a disappointed, "Ohhh," when he missed. Then Mom would launch into her
act and they would all be cheering the next kid in line. The crowd really wante
d to see somebody paddle her butt by the time Bobby Lee stepped up to the booth.
I had asked Bobby and the Finnegan twins to let a few other kids go first and th
en to space themselves out so it wouldn't look so suspicious. Also, I thought it
would help to build the sense drama if the first several pitchers missed. "Hi,
Mrs. Deeter," he said with a grin as he paid his buck and picked up a ball.
"You think you can ring that bell?" she challenged.

"I'm going to try," he answered.


"Ha!" she laughed. "Go ahead and try, I dare ya!"
"OK," Bobby agreed.
He went into a big theatrical wind up, like he was pitching the World Series or
something. The crowd held its breath. I could see Mom looking sidewise at Bobby
with a smug smirk on her face, ready to dog him out completely for missing.
Bobby threw.
I pushed the hidden lever with my foot.
"DING!" went the bell.
The crowd broke out in cheers and laughter. Kids rushed up to pat Bobby on the b
ack.
"We got a winnah!" I announced.
"What?" Mom demanded.
Bobby, red-faced and grinning with excitement, folded his arms and stared down a
t her in triumph. "Well," he said, "I guess somebody's gonna get it now!" To lau
ghter and cheers from the crowd, he strutted around the booth, grabbed the paddl
e from its hook and took up position to deliver the spanking they were all so ea
ger to see.
Mom gave me a reproachful look over her shoulder then sighed and seemed to resig
n herself to the inevitable. Still with her elbows on the top of the booth she p
ushed back until her head was between her forearms. This way her bottom was perf
ectly presented for the paddling it was about to receive. She stood there with h
er knees bent; her butt pressed backward and upward, causing her hemline to cree
p further up her legs. She dropped her head forward like she was trying to check
out her own cleavage and let her hair fall over counter-top. I noticed her peek
ing at me through the hair that had fallen across her face and hoped she couldn'
t tell how excited I was. I knew my face was turning red and I couldn't keep the
grin off my face as I watched my best friend line up the paddle across her butt
.
Bobby held the paddle with both hands and drew it back like a baseball bat. The
crowd was deathly silent in expectation. Mom tensed up for the coming swat. I wa
s glad to be wearing baggy jeans because I was starting to get a stiffy already.
The paddle whooshed through the air and landed with a resounding WHAP! that mad
e the seat of Mom's knit dress billow out around the impact zone and propelled h
er forward to slam her hips against the top of the booth. Her head snapped up, s
ending hair flying all around, and she yelled, "YEOW!" The crowd went crazy with
cheers and applause. Bobby held the paddle over his head in triumph. Mom glared
over her shoulder at me and whined, "I thought you said 12 year olds couldn't h
it very hard!"
"Uh, not really, Mom," I corrected. "Actually I just asked 'how hard could they
hit?' It was a question you see, not a statement." I was pretty proud of myself
for coming up with that one. I wondered if maybe I would go into politics some d
ay.
Mom was red-faced; it must have been pretty humiliating for her to be paddled by
a 12 year old kid like that, especially with the whole school and just about th
e whole PTA cheering him on. It looked like the sting from that swat was just st

arting to really set in. She was twisting her butt around and pulled back agains
t the Velcro straps like she was trying to reach back and rub her behind but for
got that she couldn't. Everyone had a good laugh at how uncomfortable she looked
. I guess I should have felt some sympathy for her but I couldn't help joining i
n the laughter, she just looked so ridiculous.
She recovered pretty quickly though. As soon as the next kid got ready to throw
Mom yelled, "It was luck! It was just luck!"
The kid missed and whined, "That's not fair! She messed up my throw!"
"Sorry," I said. "One try's all you get. Get back in line if you want to go agai
n."
"Hee, hee , hee; can't hit me!" Mom sang.
The kid went back to the end of the line looking sullen and sorrowful. Everyone
tried to cheer him up saying, "You'll get her next time," and stuff like that. M
om must have believed that Bobby's hit was just luck because she was really aski
ng for it. The crowd couldn't wait to see somebody else give her a good whack.
They didn't have to wait long either. One of the Finnegan twins stepped up with
a big smile and said, "I'll give it a try now."
"So ya feelin' lucky today, huh, Pat?" Mom hazarded.
"It's Mike," he replied, "and yeah, I'm feelin' pretty lucky." He gave me a wink
as he plunked down his buck and got his tennis ball. I couldn't blame Mom for n
ot knowing which one he was, no one can tell them apart. They don't make it any
easier either since they always dress alike. Sometimes they pretend to be each o
ther, too, just for the fun of it, so when one of them tells you who he is you s
till don't know for sure. Sometimes I wonder if they even know for sure which on
e is which, or if it really matters.
Anyway, Mike (or Pat) gave the ball a toss and the bell rung again. "Oh, crap!"
Mom exclaimed. The crowd cheered, they all wanted to see her get it again. And t
hey weren't going to be disappointed. Mike took the paddle off its hook and line
d it up against her butt. Mom didn't set herself up like she did for the first o
ne, she just let her head drop forward and tightened her grip on the front of th
e workbench top. Mike drew back and let her have it, WHACK! The crowd went wild.
Mom complained, "OWW!" as she tried to stand up but was stopped by the straps o
n her wrists.
Mike hung the paddle back on its hook and patted Mom on the head before he walke
d away. "Bye, Mrs. Deeter," he said. "Let's do this again soon." Mom didn't look
terribly happy at that prospect.
A few more kids tried and missed and Mom got back into her teasing routine but a
little more hesitantly than before. Still, it was enough to convince everyone t
hat she really needed another whacking. And that's just what she got. Pat Finneg
an put down his dollar and rung the bell, with a little help from yours truly. L
ike Bobby and Mike before him, Pat took the paddle in both hands and applied it
where it would do the most good. "OHH!" Mom yelled, spanked again by another 12year-old kid in front of an audience that figured she had it coming and a lot mo
re besides. And a lot more was just what she was going to get.
It wasn't long before my moneymaking scheme started to pay off. A kid walked up
and plunked down his buck then, kind of shyly, slipped another one across the bo
oth toward me. I scooped it up and gave the kid a wink. He didn't come anywhere
near the bull's-eye but the bell rang out loud and clear. I shouted, "Anothah wi

nnah!" in my best ballpark voice and the kid just stood there grinning like a Po
ssum. "Well?" I finally asked. "You gonna do it or what?" The kid nodded his hea
d vigorously but the others in line had to give him a push and some loud encoura
gement to get him moving.
He recovered pretty well though, once he got the paddle in his hands. Laughing l
ike an idiot, he drew back and gave that behind a mighty SMACK! "YIPE!" Mom comp
lained. The crowd loved it and I knew that my plan was working out.
A few more kids tried and missed before the next one ponyed up an extra buck for
the privilege. He got his money's worth and more followed behind him. The word
must have gotten out pretty quickly because more and more kids were ringing the
bell. My mom was getting a good paddling in front of an ever-growing audience an
d yours truly was making a chunk of change.

Meg donovan
Paddling Booth 3
Sun May 22, 2011 17:40
69.121.96.23
The back of Mom's skirt, which was already pulled up a good bit by her bent over
position, crept ever further up the backs of her thighs from the constant swatt
ing of her
rear end. Everyone could see what was happening and kids started angling the swa
ts upward to accentuate the effect. Before long the hem of her skirt was across
the middle
of her butt and the lower part of her white panties were in open view, as well
as the seam of her sheer pantyhose and the much-reddened skin below them. People
in the crowd
were laughing and pointing, several were taking pictures.
That was when Hallie Burton, captain of the girl's softball team, stepped up to
the booth. She didn't plunk down the extra buck although the wink she gave me to
ld me that she
knew what the deal was. I had to admire her; she was going to do it on her own.
And do it she did! I was beginning to believe it wasn't possible to ring that be
ll without my
clandestine assistance but she damn sure did it. Hallie strutted over to the pa
ddle like a rooster and took it off the hook with pride. I heard Mom groan in ex
pectation as
Hallie wound up and swung the paddle. WHACK! It landed right on target and sent
the hem of my mom's skirt flying up to land on the small of her back. The crowd
applauded
while Hallie took a little bow. I even joined in, I couldn't help it, that swat
had been a work of art.
Mom lay across the booth muttering "ow, ow, ow," and twisting her butt around fo
r awhile, a butt that was now covered only by a little pair of shiny white panti
es, until she
seemed to notice that something was wrong, She looked back over her shoulder an
d gasped when she saw her exposed undies. "Danny!" she shrieked. "Pull my dress
back down!"
"Sorry, Mom," I said, trying to stop laughing. "That would be interference. It w

ould be bad for business." I noticed Mom's shoes, kicked loose in mid whack, als
o lying nearby.
After that the show really got under way. More and more kids were paying the ext
ra buck. Bobby and the Finnegans went back through several times, as did a lot o
f the other
kids. The paddle swung again and again and Mom's panty covered butt bounced and
jiggled under the blows. Mom didn't tease the kids anymore, they taunted her now
, bragging
about how they were going to spank her or how they had or how they were going t
o again. Some of them made a big show with theatrical windups and cries of, "It'
s a line drive!"
or "Here's one right up the middle!"
The crowd of adults cheered every swat. They laughed at Mom's ever-louder yelps
of pain, calling her a "big baby" and a "brat" who deserved what she was getting
. Every now and
than one would yell, "Hey Darlene, that was my kid there!" They all seemed to h
ave cameras and a few had video cameras. My mother's paddling would be a favorit
e slide show
and home movie feature at barbeques and beer parties all over Ozymandias County
for years to come and I could tell by the way she tried to hide her bright red f
ace behind her
tangled hair that she knew it too.
A guy from the local paper showed up and started taking pictures. After getting
a few shots of her beet-red behind in the little white panties that failed to co
mpletely cover
it he moved to the front of the booth and said, "OK, Mrs. Deeter, give us a big
smile." Mom flattened herself on the top of the booth with her face down and wou
ldn't look up.
Just then Hallie Burton came up to the plate again. "I'll make her look up," she
promised. Hallie threw and rung the bell, without my help again. Once she got h
old of the
paddle she took up her best batter's stance and gave in all she had. The paddle
landed with a deafening KA-POW! Mom's high heels shot up in back and her head a
nd shoulders
did the same in front, leaving her weight on her hips and elbows. The newsman's
camera flashed in time to catch my mother's face, surrounded by flying brown hai
r, her eyes
clamped tightly shut and her mouth open in a perfect O. That would have been eno
ugh to guarantee a front-page photo but, unbeknownst to anyone, while Mom was fl
attened out on
the top of the booth she had managed to snag the neckline of her dress on an ex
posed nail. When she jerked up the front of her dress ripped completely open, ex
posing her
little white lace bra to the whole county.
The kids standing in line laughed so hard that some of them nearly fell over. A
man in the crowd yelled, "Nice tits, Darlene!" A woman added, "Yeah, for a 12 ye
ar old!" I
thought that was uncalled for, like I said before, her boobs aren't all that bi
g but their still nicely shaped. Mom stayed in place for a few seconds with a 'd
eer in the
headlights' look on her face. Her eyes were wide open now and the realization o
f what had just happened spread across her features. She slowly lowered herself
back down
and looked like she was trying to burrow into the wood. Her heels were still up

in the air, her knees bent and her ankles crossed. I know her butt had to be as
hot as a
stove by then; she wiggled around some and made little whimpering sounds that ev
eryone thought were pretty funny. I guess I should have felt sorrier for her tha
n I did, but
I didn't.
Mom probably thought that things were about as bad as they could get right then,
but she was wrong. At the head of the line was none other than Biff Buford, the
school bully.
He motioned me over and I hesitantly complied. "I wasn't gonna come to this stu
pid carnival," he said, "till I heard what was goin' on. Now I'm gonna throw thi
s ball and
that bell is gonna ring. Is that clear?"
"Uh, sure thing, Biff," I replied. It was obvious that he knew the whole setup b
ut had no intention of paying the extra buck. At least he did pitch in the dolla
r for the school.
Biff threw the ball pretty straight but it wasn't quite dead on. The bell rang
anyway, of course, as I stomped the hidden lever --three times. Dad always told
me to suck up
to the school bully whenever I can because it's good practice for dealing with b
osses.
DING-DING-DING the bell rang out. "What!" Mom objected. "That's not possible!"
Biff shook his finger right in front of her face and said with an evil grin, "Yo
u are so gonna get it." Mom tried to bite his finger but he jerked it back then
grabbed her
nose between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a wicked twist.
"Ow-ow-ow," Mom complained in a nasal whine. She put her feet back on the ground
and tried to pull back but Biff had too tight a grip. Everybody laughed as my m
om twisted
and whined but couldn't escape the 12-year-old bully who was tweaking her nose.
With all eyes on Mom's face, no one else noticed Biff's Mom slip behind the act
ion and
approach Mom from the rear. And, rear is the operative word here. Biff's Mom gr
abbed the waistband of Mom's pantihose, causing Mom's eyes to really pop open wi
de.
"My pantihose!" Mom wailed, just as Biff's Mom depantihosed her in a twinkling o
f an eye. "But, but" Mom sputtered. And Biff's Mom said "Butt is exactly right!"
, as she
reared back and tossed Mom's balled up pantyhose deep into the crowd, causing e
ven more laughter. It didn't last long though; Biff was in a hurry to get to wor
k. He let
go of Mom's nose, which was now as red as her cheeks (both sets) and stepped aro
und to the back of the booth. He didn't stop to pick up the paddle, which struck
me as odd
until he stood behind Mom and grabbed the waistband of her panties with both han
ds. I knew from painful experience what was coming next.
The kids all started chanting, "Wedgie! Wedgie!" In a quick, jerking motion Biff
hauled the waistband of my mom's panties up to the small of her back. The seat
of those
panties disappeared into the crack of her ass leaving her tomato-red buns total
ly exposed. She yelped and jerked her head upward, exposing her bared bra to the
crowd again.
Biff walked calmly over and picked the paddle off of its hook.

The crowd cheered. Mom shot me an accusatory look over her shoulder. I shrugged
my shoulders like, hey, what can I do? Biff took the paddle in both hands and ga
ve it a
powerful swing. Mom squealed, "AI! AI! YIEE!" as Biff gave her three good hard
ones, one right after the other. The crowd broke into wild applause. Mom twisted
her bare
butt around and moaned, "Oh my God."
During the rest of the afternoon my hapless mother had her bare bottom paddled b
y just about every kid at the carnival. She stomped and kicked and wriggled arou
nd like a
worm on a frying pan. Mascara was running down her face and she was flashing he
r white lace bra to the whole crowd. The crowd loved it, the kids had the time o
f their
lives and the school made a shitload of cash. Besides which, yours truly was a
local hero and made a bundle on the side. Like I said before, it was a win-win s
ituation,
for everybody but Mom.
But all good things must come to an end, and so it was with the Paddling
Principal Armstrong, who'd been watching all afternoon -- jumping up and
ng like a
girl whenever Mom got paddled, came over and announced the sad news that
time to end the carnival. There was a disappointed "Awww," from everyone
who muttered,
"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Booth.
squeali
it was
but Mom

Bobby Lee undid the Velcro wrist-straps while I got the money squared away; the
money for the school, which I gave to Mr. Armstrong, and loot I had collected fo
r my self,
which went into my backpack. Mom stood up slowly, letting her dress fall back i
nto place and gingerly rubbing her bruised behind with both hands. I could see b
y the way
she was twisting around that she had just realized that her panties were still t
ightly wedged into the crack of her ass but there was no way she was going to li
ft her dress
back up to try and pull them out. Then she said, "Oh shit!" and grabbed the fron
t of her dress with one hand to cover her bra.
She told Bobby to get her purse out from under booth. He did so and held it whil
e she rustled around in it with one hand, still holding the front of her dress t
ogether
with the other. All the while she was muttering in a sarcastic tone, "Why don't
you help out at the carnival, Mom? It'll be fun, and it'll make lots of money fo
r the school
. Oh, yeah! That was fun alright!"
"It did make lots of money," I helpfully suggested.
She shot me a look that would have fried a bug at thirty paces then shouted, "Ah
a! I knew I had one of these," and pulled a safety pin out of her purse. She qui
ckly pinned
her dress together then started to reach back to rub her butt some more but, eyi
ng the still watching crowd, pulled herself up into a dignified stance and said,
"Come on, mister genius, we're going home."
"Wait!" Bobby shouted. "You can't go yet. They're going to give the award for th
e best exhibit. You've got to win!"

"Come on, Mom," I whined.


"Oh, all right," she sighed. "Let's get it over with."
Principal Armstrong was sitting on a stool on a little wooden dais. When he saw
us coming he stood up and announced, "There he is, folks! The winner of the Best
Exhibit Ribbon,
Danny Deeter!" Everyone cheered while I went up to get my ribbon. As soon as he
handed it to me the principal said, "And how about a hand for Danny's mom, Darl
ene Deeter!"
There was thunderous applause and Mom looked pretty embarrassed. "Come on up he
re, Mrs. Deeter," Mr. Armstrong added.
Mom was shaking her head and saying, "No, no, no," but people started pushing he
r forward. She held back and someone gave her an open-handed slap on the behind
that made her
jump and squeal. She was looking around to see who'd swatted her when she got s
macked again. That one motivated her to move. She trotted forward, picking up se
veral
resounding spanks along the way, and hopped up onto the dais.
The principal reached up to put his arm around her shoulders, he was about six i
nches shorter than her, and announced, "What a trooper!" The crowd cheered, Mom
just stood
there rubbing her butt with both hands and dancing back and forth from one foot
to the other. Her hair and make-up were a mess, the front of her dress was held
together with
a safety pin and she was wincing in such a comical way that everyone burst out l
aughing, including Principal Armstrong and yours truly.
Everyone cheered so loudly for her that Mom managed a half-hearted smile but the
n one of the kids yelled, "Hey, Mr. Armstrong should paddle her! He's the princi
pal!"
"Yeah," another added, "That's his job!"
"I'd give ten dollars to see that!" a man shouted.
"I'd give twenty!" a woman countered.
From there on a bidding war commenced and it was soon clear that the school coul
d make a tidy sum if Principal Armstrong paddled my mom. She was backing up and
looking pretty
nervous when the Mr. Armstrong turned to her and said, "It is for a good cause M
rs. Deeter. Not that I really want to do it but..," But it was plain from the sw
eat on his
face and the bulge in his pants that he wanted to more than he wanted to take h
is next breath.
The school secretary stepped onto dais and handed Mr. Armstrong the official sch
ool paddle, a wicked-looking instrument of gleaming hardwood with holes drilled
along its
length. Those holes could raise blisters and invariably produced an effect that
the kids all knew as 'waffle-butt'.
"I think ten is the customary number," the secretary said.
"Actually that's the maximum," the principal corrected.
"I think it's called for, don't you?" the secretary replied.

"Oh no!" Mom defiantly objected. "I don't think so!" Before anyone could react s
he turned and leapt off the dais into the crowd.
"But Mrs. Deeter," Mr. Armstrong called. "What about the children?"
That wasn't enough to get Mom to stop but it did give a sense of purpose to the
crowd. Before they'd only been motivated by a craving for entertainment. Now, wi
th one simple
question, Principal Armstrong had turned it into a righteous cause. No way woul
d they allow her to skip out in so cowardly a way on 'the children'.
A woman grabbed her by the back of her dress and shouted, "You get back here!" M
om pressed on ahead, the dress, already torn in front, came off her with a loud
RRRRIP! She
lost her purse in the process but made no effort to recover it. Instead she bro
ke into a headlong sprint clad only in her bra and panties (still wedged up the
crack of her
black and blue butt).
Another woman took hold of the back of he bra and spun her around so that she wa
s facing the dais. The bra was the kind that snaps in front and it came off in t
he woman's
hand, leaving my mom running, bent over with both arms wrapped around her bare
boobs, straight back toward the inevitable. She still seemed to think that she w
as headed
for safety until she tripped over the side of the dais and did a belly-flop onto
it. Two men from the crowd leapt onto the dais and helpfully took one of her ar
ms each to pick
her up. Another man jumped up behind them and took hold of her ankles and lifte
d them as well. The three of them carried her that way to where Principal Armstr
ong sat on his
stool, paddle in hand, shit-eating grin on face, and deposited her over his lap
. As she landed, her bare breasts bounced beautifully, and no one could miss how
perkily erect
her nipples had become.
As soon as her arms were released Mom covered her bare boobs with them. There wa
sn't much else she could do lying belly down across Mr. Armstrong's thighs, pinn
ed in place by
his left arm on the small of her back. She looked over her shoulder just in time
to see the paddle lifted high over the Principal's head. She tossed her hair an
d kicked
petulantly while yelling, "No, no, no, OHH!"
The crowd chanted, "ONE!" as the paddle landed with a powerful CRACK! across my
mom's purple butt. The first swat was followed immediately by a second and then
a third.
The crowd counted the smacks as they fell. The air was full of the sound polishe
d wood against bare behind -- WHACK! SMACK! CRACK! KA-POW! -- the cheerful chant
ing of the
crowd -- TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! -- and my nearly naked, thoroughly humiliated a
nd soundly spanked mom shrieking, "That's enough! OWW! Stop it! YIEE! No more! O
OO! I'm warning
you! AIEE!" Of course threats from a woman in her position were hardly to be tak
en seriously.
Principal Armstrong's face was beet red, covered with sweat and wearing

Principal Armstrong's face was beet red, covered with sweat and wearing a grin t
hat looked bigger than his head. Mom's bruised and blistered butt bounced like c
razy as the
paddle was applied to it again and again. She gave up on covering her tits and g
rabbed the legs of the stool with both hands. It looked like she was trying to p
ush herself
up off Mr. Armstrong's lap but was getting nowhere. Our principal may have been
short but he was stout and held her easily in place while he delivered one sizz
ling swat
after another to those bouncing buns. My hapless mom kicked like a mule, scream
ed like a banshee and flung her bare tits wildly to and fro but to no avail. Pri
ncipal
Armstrong was determined to see that she got the full effect of ten wallops fro
m that punishing board and he carried out his intent.
Then a voice in the crowd called out "For the charity! I'll give $20 bucks for h
er thong!" The crowd roared, and suddenly a bidding war was on. When the bidding
reached one
hundred dollars, the principal announced "I'm sure Darlene would be happy to hel
p the cause even more." So - as he pressed down on Mom's back, a lady nearby on
stage quickly
grabbed the waistband of Mom'd wedged up panties , and - whoosh, away they went
, down her legs, past her feet, and tossed to the high bidder. Mom squealed in p
rotest, but
of course she was the one who'd been whining about the wedgie. Now, well, no mor
e wedgie for Mom.
The last five swats fell fast and hard while the crowd dutifully counted them an
d Mom cried, "Let me OW! go you AI! stupid AOO! son of a YIEE! bitch AIEEOWWW!"
All the while
her legs kicked wildly, and the audience became very well acquainted with Mom's
lower charms. And now the whole neighborhood knew how being spanked turned Darl
ene on, as her
'lips' were very noticably and plainly sopping wet with arousal.
Darlene moaned "Ohhh, my pussy. everyone can see. Cover me." After the last swat
Principal Armstrong did just that, letting his palm come to rest low on Mom's b
utt, then
rubbing in little circles lower and lower til his hand came to rest right on Mom
's swollen mound. He began making a speech about the town and about charity and
good
citizenship, all the while his hand and fingers were caressing and exploring Dar
lene. Folks right in front of the stage would have sworn two of his fingers had
completely
disappeared inside Darlene. But she'd stopped talking by this point, now just me
wing and squirming and humping her hips up and down on his lap. She could try to
fight it,
but Darlene knew herself well enough - she was about to cum a gusher. After a fe
w minutes, Darlene shuddered, squealed and then moaned.
He let go of her waist then and Mom rolled off his lap to the stage. Then she le
apt to her feet and gave him a swift kick in the shin. He was in such a state of
rapture
that he probably didn't feel a thing. Only then did she see the huge wet spot on
his slacks. And Darlene knew they were each partially responsible for that wet
spot. They'd
obviously come to a mutual understanding. She then grabbed her blazing buns with
both hands and started hopping up and down repeating, "Oh, oh, oh," over and ov
er.

The crowd burst into wild laughter and applause, some of the men gave wolf whist
les. Mom looked down at her bare, bouncing boobs and went, "EEEK!" She quickly b
rought both
arms up to cover her exposed tits. Her eyes darted around the dais till they lan
ded on me with a look than could have peeled the paint off a pick-up truck. Befo
re I could
move she pounced on me like a jungle cat, grabbed my T-shirt with both hands an
d yanked it over my head. With one quick motion she pulled it over her naked upp
er body.
It was short and tight, the thin white cotton stretched over her boobs like pai
nt and her nips were sticking out like thermometers from Thanksgiving turkeys bu
t at least
they were covered.
Then she turned to me and said in an icy tone, "Come on. We're going home now."
She stepped off the dais with her nose in the air. Her face was bright red and s
treaked
with mascara, her hair was a tangled mess, her tits were perfectly outlined by t
he too-small T-shirt and her behind, which her little shirt failed to completely
cover,
was glowing like the burner on a hot plate but she walked through the crowd with
a strange kind of dignity and they parted to let her through. Bobby Lee ran up
with a big
grin and handed her her purse. She snatched it from his hands and whomped him o
ver the head with it. I was right behind her and couldn't help giggling, even wh
en she turned
around and bonked me with it too.
Since it was a warm day Mom had left the top down on the car. She pulled the key
s out of her purse and tossed it in the back seat. As she opened the driver door
she yanked
her big, rose-tinted sunglasses from the windshield visor and slipped them on wh
ile she was sitting down. When her blistered butt settled onto the sun-warmed vi
nyl seat a
sound like steam from a teakettle came from between her clenched teeth. She was
determined not to let anyone see her squirm but as she turned the key and looke
d out on the
long, pothole infested road home she sighed, "This is going to be an interesting
ride." And it was.

La Bella Susana y el Italiano Petiso


Llevo ya dos aos casada con Giovanni, mi novio de secundaria, a pesar de que era
muy joven cuando me cas y nadie crea que este matrimonio iba a durar.

Tuve que pedir permiso a mis padres porque no haba llegado a la mayora de edad, y
solamente me dejaron hacerlo porque me iba a vivir a casa de Giovanni, quien com
parta
el apartamento con su padre, Gennaro, un tano zapatero remendn que trabajaba cerc
a de la Feria de Tristn Narvaja, y un gato barcino llamado Micifuz.
La verdad que yo hice todo lo posible por salirme con la ma para casarme lo ms pro
nto posible y salir de la tutela de mis padres y convertirme finalmente en una m
enor
emancipada.
Todo me sali a pedir de boca, y hubiera conseguido todo lo que deseaba, si no hub
iera sido por este salame de ideas retrgradas que tengo por suegro y su adorado g
ato, a
l que llevaba a su trabajo todos los das, tal era el cario que le tena.
Gennaro enviud siendo Giovanni un nio an, y a fuerza de sacrificios consigui comprar
se un apartamento cerca de la crcel de Miguelete.
Giovanni ya a los catorce aos, jugaba al basketball en el Club Cordn, y le llevaba
ms de una cabeza al petiso de su padre. A quin sali tan alto? Dicen que a la mam.
Yo soy casi de la altura de Giovanni, y es una de las cosas que ms me gusta de l.
Cuando lo miro tengo que levantar ligeramente la cabeza y eso me hace sentir pro
tegida y
admiro todo lo que l me dice. Verdaderamente, estoy enamorada de l! Y lo prefer sobr
e todos los otros pretendientes que aparecieron cuando sal Reina de Belleza de la
Escuela, aunque en realidad lo haya utilizado para huir de la casa de mis padre
s, y ejercer mi libre albedro.
Estaba muy equivocada cuando cre que me haba salido con la ma!
Luego de la Luna de Miel, me fui a vivir a casa de mi suegro, donde fui muy bien
recibida, y aadi todava en ese dialecto atravesado suyo: "Benvenutta, Susanita, ca
ra ma.
Io ti tratar como a mia propia figlia." En ese entonces, yo no saba cun cierta era
su afirmacin, pero ya lo iba a averiguar en los prximos meses.
La verdad que yo me senta muy bien con l en ese momento, y nada haca sospechar lo q
ue pasara luego de ese perodo de "luna de miel" en donde todo marcha bien, cuando
dos
personas recin comienzan a convivir por perodos prolongados bajo un mismo techo.
Cuando no
s padres,
ue yo iba
hacer lo

quise ir ms a Preparatorios todo el mundo puso el grito en el cielo, mi


mi marido, mi suegro, pero finalmente las protestas se acallaron, ya q
a
que quisiera hacer.

Aquello que al principio fue tomado como rebelda adolescente que ya iba a desapar
ecer, se torn una realidad de todos los das. A los seis meses de casada ya comenz a
rezongarme por dejar las cosas en desorden, por mis salidas a todas horas del da
y de la noche, y por no hacer las tareas de la casa.
Yo al principio me call la boca, dejando pasar las cosas, queriendo que Giovanni
me defendiera delante de su padre, pero l solamente se dedicaba a sus estudios un
iversitarios,
y le pareca hasta graciosa mi situacin de enfrentamiento con su padre.

Su nica recomendacin fue: "No hagas enojar al viejo, porque


al cuerpo!" y no lo dijo rindose, sino bastante serio

te va a arrimar la ropa

La que se burl fui yo, mofndome ante lo absurdo de la situacin. Imagnense, con mis d
ieciocho aos recin cumplidos, recibiendo un castigo corporal de nada menos que mi
suegro, el tano, el petiso Giovanni, a quien le llevaba casi una cabeza con mi m
etro setenta y cinco de estatura. En la imaginacin de quin entraba semejante cosa?
La verdad, que ahora, pensndolo retrospectivamente tendra que haber odo la adverten
cia de mi marido, y tratado de amoldarme ms al carcter de su padre, quien despus de
todo, era no solamente mi suegro, sino el dueo de casa, y bastante estaba haciend
o, dndonos albergue y comida mientras mi marido estudiaba, y yo hacindome la viva
y no
enfrentando mi vida y mis responsabilidades.
Uno de esos sbados lindos, decid salir a andar en bicicleta por La Rambla costaner
a, y cuando mi suegro nuevamente Ufa! Me volvi a recriminar que no estaba haciendo
nada por m ni por la casa, qued tan enojada que tom la bicicleta y sal como una tro
mba del apartamento, llevndome por delante al pobre Micifuz, que estaba echado en
su
rinconcito de la puerta de calle, como habitualmente sola hacerlo.
Aquello fue un lo de maullidos, golpes de bicicleta contra la puerta, gritos de m
i suegro mientras vena desde su cuarto a ver lo que era este enredo, y yo que sal
dando
un portazo, sin preocuparme ms que de mi dichoso paseo en bicicleta hasta el pue
rto ida y vuelta.
Cuando volv como a las 8 de la noche, me estaban esperando en la sala mi marido y
mi suegro, con caras apenadas, y Micifuz echado entre ellos dos, con una venda
en la cola y
un moito colorado.
Parece que cuando sal hecha una furia, apret ya sea con la bicicleta o con la puer
ta de entrada, la colita de Micifuz, quien termin pagando la culpa de mi rabia po
r las
justas recriminaciones de mi suegro.
Me disculp como pude, dado que me dio mucha pena haber lastimado a Micifuz, pero
ya el dao estaba hecho, y no haba forma de arreglarlo
- "Un giorno de stos!"
dijo Gennaro, mirando hacia m amenazadoramente y sacudiendo
su mano derecha de arriba abajo
"Un giorno de stos!" y tomando delicadamente a
Micifuz, se fue a su cuarto y cerr la puerta.
- "Pero Qu se piensa tu padre?"

le dije a Giovanni

"Ya me disculp Qu ms puedo hac

- "Creo que un da de stos te la vas a ligar. Y la culpa va a ser toda tuya por no
tratar de hacer algo para contribuir contigo misma y con la casa." me dijo l.
Yo me fui a mi dormitorio, muy disgustada con l, con mi suegro y sus amenazas y c
onmigo misma por lo que estaba haciendo.

Otra vez Micifuz


La primera semana despus de que le cort la cola a Micifuz, todo anduvo bastante bi

en, ya que me preocup de que todo estuviera ordenado, limpio y los mandados hecho
s.
Era lo nico que tena para hacer durante todo el da, ya que como dijera anteriorment
e, haba abandonado mis estudios!
Pero, claro, para la segunda semana, las cosas volvieron exactamente al mismo es
tado que como estaban antes. Peor! Ya que ahora las discusiones con Gennaro iban
en aumento,
dado que l no obtena resultados, y yo comenc a contestarle mal.
El sbado, Giovanni como de costumbre se fue a la Universidad, y yo me qued durmien
do hasta tarde. Cuando me levant, cerca del medioda, Gennaro estaba muy entretenid
o con
su trpode y una mquina de video, filmando a Micifuz haciendo sus gateras en el sil
ln de la sala.
Viendo que el da estaba lindo, me apront para salir en bicicleta con mi conjunto d
eportivo de chaqueta y pantaln corto, ajustado, que destaca mi trasero protuberan
te, que
tanto le gusta a mi marido y a tantos y tantos a quienes sorprendo mirndomelo cua
ndo paso caminando delante de ellos y me doy la vuelta sbitamente.
No termin de tomar la bicicleta del balcn para salir, cuando Gennaro nuevamente co
menz a recriminarme que la casa era un desastre, todo desordenado, las compras si
n hacer,
en fin la cantinela de siempre.
Estall en otro berrinche de los mos, y me fui violentamente hacia la puerta que ab
r con fuerza, con tan mala fortuna, que la estrell contra Micifuz, que estaba nuev
amente
en su rinconcito, y daba unos maullidos que pareca que lo estuvieran desollando
vivo.
- "Sin vergoa!"

dijo Gennaro

"una buona sculacciata io ti dar."

Y sin ms, sin violencia, pero con firmeza, me tom con su manaza de obrero de una m
ueca y cerr la puerta de entrada de un empelln, dejando la bicicleta tirada del lad
o de
afuera.
Camin en direccin al silln grande de la sala,
completamente atnita al giro que estaba tomando
paralizada, dado que mis padres nunca me haban
nos fsicamente, que era lo que pareca que este

llevndome a rastras, ya que yo estaba


esta situacin, y estaba como
castigado de ninguna manera, y me
tano quera hacer conmigo.

Me empuj para que yo quedara de rodillas sobre un costado del silln, y sin soltarm
e la mueca, se sent en el medio del mismo. Tomando mi mueca con su mano izquierda,
solamente tuvo que dar un pequeo tirn para que yo perdiera el equilibrio y cayera
cuan larga era sobre sus rodillas. Mi abultado trasero debidamente posicionado s
obre su
muslo derecho, y mis senos casi tocando el almohadn del silln, pasando su muslo i
zquierdo.
No poda ser! Lo que tanto me haba avisado mi marido Giovanni estaba por suceder!
Mi suegro me estaba acomodando para darme una merecida azotana o "sculacciata" en
su media lengua!
- "Sabes Susanita" me dijo
"hace tiempo que ti mereces esta sculacciata. Io pien
so sculacciarte de ahora in adelante, pero la prima e molto importante, porque e

para
demostrarte que io posso con t, e solamente vai parare cuando tu dimonstrare acc
eptacione de que o ti castigue. Ta claro?"
Y sin ms prembulo me rode la cintura con su frrea mano izquierda, apretando fuerteme
nte mi cintura hacia abajo. Esa posicin me hizo destacar todava ms mi trasero, que
tuvo que curvarse todava ms hacia arriba, obscenamente sobre sus rodillas.
Gir mi cabeza hacia atrs, a tiempo de ver su ominosa mano derecha, que se levant ap
enas un palmo por encima de mi trasero inmovilizado en esa posicin ridcula y juven
il,
antes de descargarse, sin poner fuerza en ello, dejando que la fuerza de graveda
d hiciera su tarea, en una palmada en el medio de la cola. Luego de la primera p
almada,
siguieron tres o cuatro, sin casi fuerza, dejando simplemente caer su mano sobre
mis nalgas, haciendo el consabido "chas, chas" conque siempre amenazamos a los
nios.
Finalmente, recuper el habla, luego de todos estos hechos sorprendentes.
- "Atrevido! Qu se piensa?! Sulteme inmediatamente!!
desesperadamente sobre sus rodillas.

comenc a gritar mientras corco

No me hizo el menor caso. Apoy su codo izquierdo sobre mi espalda media para cont
rolarme mejor, y continu con sus palmadas espaciadas y cadenciosas.

- "Ay!, Aaayyy!! AAAAYYYY!!!!" contestaba yo a cada una de sus azotes, que si bien n
enan fuerza, y la verdad que no me dolan, me estaban mortificando seriamente
el ego.
No solamente nadie me haba dado una paliza, sino que nadie se haba CREDO con derech
o a darme una. Y aqu estaba el enano de mi suegro, echando al traste todo eso, e
impactando en MI TRASTE, su derecho a hacerlo.
Pataleaba y perneaba desesperadamente, pero mi suegro no se inmut en absoluto.
Se limitaba a suspirar, apretar mi cintura y continuar con su montono: "chas chas
" sobre mi cola, mientras yo vociferaba que nunca lo iba a perdonar, que me iba
a ir de la
casa, que me iba a divorciar. No contestando nada, mi suegro prosigui con mi azot
ana, minuto tras minuto, sin pausa ni descanso
Viendo que los gritos no servan, comenc a llorar de rabia. La verdad que esto no e
ra dolor, era ms profundo Con cada palmada, mi suegro me estaba imprimiendo que EL
estaba en control, no yo. Que EL tena derecho a palmearme el culo, cuando decidie
ra que mi comportamiento lo mereciera.
El montono chas-chas continuaba, montono, interminable
Decid ponerme violenta yo tambin, y trat de pellizcarle la pierna izquierda con mis
uas largas y afiladas.
- "Ah! Eso s que no!"
me dijo mientras me daba cuatro fortsimas palmadas, que verdad
eramente me dejaron el culo colorado, indicndome que dejara de pellizcarlo.
- "AAYY, AAAAAYYYYY, AAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!"
redobl mi llanto nuevamente, mientras aba
ndonaba todo intento de retribucin fsica.
Y as continu esto que ms que azotana era una verdadera soba, con su mano derecha cha

squeando mi trasero, mientras yo pareca que estaba aprendiendo a nadar sobre sus
rodillas, golpeando el posabrazos del silln con mis tobillos, y araando con mis ma
nos los almohadones del lado opuesto, en un vano intento de escaparme de esta hu
millacin.
Mi cola se bamboleaba de un lado a otro, tratando de zafarse de esa mano que sie
mpre la encontraba en su punto ms arqueado.
- "Bua, BUA, BUUUAAA!!"
lloraba yo, ahora ya abiertamente, ante lo inevitable de m
i situacin, y un poquito por ardor en el trasero, ya que si bien las palmadas era
n
suaves, ya llevbamos media hora, yo nadando estilo "crawl" y l dndome una buena sob
a en el culo, mientras Micifuz miraba la escena desde una silla cercana.
- "Basta, basta BASTA!"
suplicaba yo, desesperadamente, dado que mi suegro pareca q
ue no iba a parar nunca de darme nalgadas.
- "Io paro, cuando Susanita acepte la sculacciata" me dijo l, y continu inexorable
mente sus palmadas alternadas en una nalga y la otra.
- "Basta. Acepto. Acepto la sculacciata, don Gennaro!"
grit yo tontamente, mientra
s continuaba los mismos corcovos intiles de los ltimos treinta y cinco minutos, y
le otorgaba el honorfico "don" con el cual iba a llamarlo por el resto de mis das.
- "Bene. Si aceptano la sculacciata cese il pataleo!"
ita que me estaba propinando.

dijo l sin parar la soba mald

No tienen idea, la fuerza de voluntad que me cost dejar mis pies desnudos apuntand
o al techo! (Haca rato que haba perdido las zapatillas en ese pernear desenfrenado
)
Me senta completamente ridcula, estirada sobre las rodillas de mi suegro, sollozan
do, quieta y sin moverme, mientras continuaba mi "adiestramiento".
Luego de darme otra docena de nalgadas, finalmente par y apoyando su mano derecha
sobre mis pantaloncitos me habl:
- "Bene, Susanita. Ahora chi vediamo si realmente aprendiste a aceptare la scula
cciata." y comenz a desprenderme los botones de mis pantaloncitos.
- "No, no y NO! Djeme los pantaloncitos, don Corleone
entras comenzaba a patalear nuevamente.

digo don Gennaro!"

dije yo, mi

- "Ya basta de juocos!" dijo don Gennaro, dndome cuatro palmadas bastante fuertes
"o me voy a enojar en serio. La vera sculacciata e dada de esta manera!"
Haciendo acopio de toda mi voluntad me qued quieta mientras este hombre me desabr
ochaba la parte trasera de mis pantaloncitos, abrindolos e intentando bajarlos, p
ero no
poda, ya que yo estaba acostada sobre ellos.
- "Levanta esa cola ahora!"

dijo don Gennaro.

Y me sorprend a m misma, cuando, obedeciendo a don Genaro levant mis caderas como u
na nia tonta, para que continuara el humillante descenso de mi prenda de vestir.
Don Gennaro no perdi tiempo alguno, bajando mis pantaloncitos hasta las rodillas.
Pero ah no qued la cosa, ya que comenc a sentir su mano derecha, enganchando el pu
lgar
en el elstico de mis bombachitas.

- "Ah! NOOO! Por favor, don Gennaro!


gem yo, quedndome quietecita
lo a la cara de ahora en adelante, si me va a bajar la bombacha?!
Por favor NO. No me pegue en el culo desnudo !"

"Cmo voy a pode

Mi suegro no escuch ninguno de mis ruegos, y mientras yo miraba desesperadamente


por encima de mi hombro, mi bombacha se estir para pasar la parte ms abultada de m
is
nalgas, continuando su descenso hasta juntarse con mis pantaloncitos.
- "Ahora
poyaba su
y seor,
rodillas
arte,
e voltamo
o?"

s, Susanita!" me habl directamente mi suegro mirndome a los ojos mientras a


mano derecha nuevamente en mi trasero desnudo, como declarndose su dueo
por lo menos mientras estuviera en esta posicin tan vulnerable, sobre sus
"tua sculacciata, comenza di volta. Uno solo movimiento tuo para escap
a cominchare de cero. Una sola pataleada en cominchamo de cero. Ta clar

- "S signore, don Gennaro!"


u acento.

dije yo, sorprendindome a mi misma por contagiarme de s

Mi soba ahora se transform en verdadera azotana.


Sus palmadas eran ahora un poco ms fuertes, pero luego de 40 minutos de soba, mi
colita pelada estaba mucho ms sensible, as es que solamente pude continuar con un:
- "Bujujuju Ay Bua Bujuju.. AAAYYY!"
ta, a pesar de las nalgadas.

mientras haca todo lo posible para quedarme quie

Don Gennaro, lgicamente, estaba disfrutando enormemente esta actividad.


Tener sobre sus rodillas, un trasero rotundo, de una traviesa adolescente rebeld
e y merecedora de correccin, debe ser el sueo de muchos hombres maduros y dominant
es como l.
Luego de un par de docenas de azotes bien dados, don Gennaro me dio dos leves pa
lmadas en mi nalga derecha para llamarme la atencin.
Me di vuelta, sollozante, y me dijo:
- "De ahora en adelante, no vai fazere mai la cuccina e la limpieza de la casa.
Mai voltar a la escola a continuar nuevamente ."
- "Eso s que n AY, AAAYYY, AAAAAAYYYYY!!!"
Gennaro continu impdicamente con sus palmadas
Lo que usted quiera, don Gennaro AAAAAYYYYY!"

interrump y me call instantneamente cuan


"Est bien! Est bien!

- "Mechiore que traiga buena nota, o voi darte otra sculacciata comme questa"
n Gennaro segua con su discurso y mi paliza.
- "Ay, AAAYYY!"

do

continuaba yo.

- "E no vai salire a pasear hasta tener todo estudiado para la escola"
Gennaro, incansable.

segua don

- "Lo que usted quiera, don Gennaro!... AAAYYY"


- "E vai tratare bene a tus padres e al Micifuz"

ms palmadas de mi corrector.

- "S, don Gennaro

BUUUJUUU, JUU!"

- "Bene" dijo don Gennaro, levantndome la bombachita y ayudndome a salir de esa po


sicin embarazosa y humillante en que me haba tenido por casi una hora
"Ricordate d
e
questo giorno, perque si no, TUA COLA e MIA MANO, van a tener una larga converz
acione E mia mano ser la que dar IL DISCURSO! TA CLARO??"
- "S don Gennaro" contest obedientemente. Me abroch los pantaloncitos y echndole los
brazos al cuello le di un beso en la mejilla, luego me dediqu a frotarme la cola
con ambas manos.
Don Gennaro, mientras tanto, fue hasta el trpode que haba abandonado con la mquina
de video, y, rindose, apag la mquina. Toda mi humillante paliza haba quedado
registrada en la cmara!
- "Deme esa cmara, don Gennaro! Qu va a hacer con ella?"

exclam yo, nerviosamente.

- "Esto e un recordatorio para que ti comportes como debes! Ta claro?"


- "S, don Gennaro, muy claro."

contest yo.

Esa noche, cuando lleg mi marido de la universidad, la que estaba en la cama, boc
a abajo, con una venda en la cola y un moito colorado era yo

Luego de los hechos relatados en La Bella Susana y el Italiano Petiso


ero de esta Serie), la vida en mi casa cambi mucho.

(Captulo Prim

Don Gennaro, al da siguiente de mi sculacciata me dijo que de ahora en adelante, to


dos los sbados por la maana, bamos a examinar mi comportamiento, y ver el
tipo de correccin a que me haba hecho merecedora.
En el momento no me d cuenta de que no era SI era merecedora de correccin, sino de
TIPO de correccin. As es que, habindome comportado en forma hogarea,
hacendosa, y sobre todo, recomenzado mis estudios nuevamente, estaba muy tranqu
ila y confiada, cuando lleg el siguiente sbado y me levant en pijama, a prepararme
un
caf con leche en la cocina.

EL

Entr en la sala, con mi taza humeante, cuando lo veo a Don Gennaro, sentado en el
medio del silln de la sala, exactamente en el sitio donde haba acontecido mi azot
ana
haca precisamente una semana.
- "Veni cu, Susanita!
me llam Don Gennaro, palmeando el almohadn del silln, sobre su
ado derecho
Debiamo parlare sobre la setimana pasada.

Ciertamente, Don Gennaro


contest yo
cambios que hice en mis hbitos.

me imagino que se habr dado cuenta de todos lo

- Me he dado conta, Susanita, e vero que sono molto contento


dijo Don Gennaro, sacn
dome la taza de las manos, y ponindola sobre la mesita ratona.
-

comenc la escuela

continu yo

- E tropo importante ricordare la obediencia necesaria SEMPRE


interrumpi Don Gennar
o, golpeando su rodilla derecha con la palma de su mano
Alora, Susanita,
BOCA ABAJO!

- NO, NO Y NO!
comenz a protestar
Ud. No me va a castigar ahora! Si yo me port b
qu me va a dar palmadas? Eh?! EH?! EEEHHH?!
- Susanita
comenz Don Gennaro, tirando de mi mano derecha y colocndome sobre su regaz
o, en la posicin deseada
pensaba solamente que demostrara obediencia al
comando, y no pensaba castigarla pero alora vedo la desobediencia parece que preci
sano uma altra sculacciata, para aprender a obedecer veramente!
- Pero Don Gennaro
Y!.... No . AY!

Aayy!

quise continuar yo, pero

mi segunda correccin haba comenza

Don Gennaro saba perfectamente que no haba verdaderos motivos para mi segunda corr
eccin, as que luego de una docena de palmadas en mis pijamas, me masaje el trasero
para que se fuera el escozor y me orden:
-

Susanita, levante esa cola!

Yo, no queriendo imaginarme lo que pasara si no obedeciera, dobl las caderas, leva
ntando mis nalgas, y Don Gennaro procedi a bajarme los pijamas hasta la
mitad de los muslos. Me mord los labios de la vergenza que tena, pero no dije nada
- Bene, Susanita, bene!
dijo Don Gennaro, palmeando displicentemente mi bombachita
o que bueno que es ser obediente?

Y continu su palmatoria, despaciosamente, cubriendo todo mi trasero con palmadita


s exploratorias, haciendo vibrar mi piel con sus pequeos chasquidos, mientras yo
trataba de ocultar mi cola, tensando los msculos y luchando vanamente por empequee
cer aquello de lo cual la naturaleza me haba dotado con amplitud.
Cuando se cans de palmearme la bombachita, sin yo haberme quejado una sola vez, v
olvi a ordenarme:
-

Susanita, levante esa cola!

Y yo, ahora completamente avergonzada, sabiendo perfectamente lo que pasara, dobl


las caderas, levantando nuevamente mi retaguardia, y ahora Don Gennaro hizo con
mis
bombachitas lo que hiciera con mis pijamas, dejndolas a media asta en mis muslos
.
- Bene, Susanita, bene!
dijo Don Gennaro, y luego de masajearme la cola un par de
minutos, me dej levantarme
espero que ahora haya aprendido la importancia de
obedecer rdenes, aunque parezcan injustas! .

- S, Don Gennaro!
contest yo, le d un beso en la mejilla Porqu le doy un beso a es
re despus que me castiga?... y luego de levantarme la bombachita y el

pijama, continu tomando mi caf con leche.


La verdad que esta segunda azotana no me haba dolido casi nada, salvo la primera p
arte, cuando todava conservaba mis pantalones pijama pero senta mucha vergenza de
que Don Gennaro se encaprichara en verme el culo desnudo y me demandara NO RE
SISTIR sus rdenes y seguirle la corriente.
Me d cuenta de que Don Gennaro pona nfasis en no resistir. Me dejaba protestar todo
lo que yo quisiera, pero no me permita que yo opusiera resistencia.
Y bsicamente, ese primer sbado de maana, marc la pauta para el segundo, tercer y cua
rto sbado, en que Don Gennaro, sin motivo alguno, salvo el reclamar obediencia,
me pona sobre su regazo en el silln grande de la sala, para darme una docena de az
otes sobre el pijama, luego las palmaditas en la bombacha por haberme portado bie
n y
finalmente el masaje final, sin bombachitas.

EL QUINTO SBADO
Si bien no estaba muy contenta con mi soba semanal, que me avergonzaba, no estaba
en realidad recibiendo ningn castigo, sino el palmeo de Don Gennaro.
As llegaron las cosas al sbado, en que, habindoseme acabado la ropa interior, me le
vant temprano, a hacer el lavado, con la esperanza de que Don Gennaro siguiera en
su
dormitorio y me diera tiempo a secarla pero ni bien haba puesto la ropa a secar que
siento una mano que me toma la ma, y me lleva al famoso silln de la sala, para mi
charla matinal de los sbados.
- Don Gennaro, por favor!
rogu yo, resistiendo su tironeo y tratando de ir hacia la
secadora
No podra esperar un momento para nuestra charla? Es que estoy
secando la ropa, y la preciso ahora!
-

Qu e questo?
medio se enoj Don Gennaro
Ya se olvid de la obediencia? No aprend
setimanas pasadas? Quiere una vera sculacciata?

- NOOOO!! Por favor, Don Gennaro


continu resistiendo yo, olvidndome de que no le gust
ba que me resistiera
es nada ms que una demora hasta que termine de secar
la ropa.
-

Io non vo aspetare a que termine de secar la ropa. Vamo parlare sbito. E por la
resistencia, esta vez la recordazione ser sensa pijama!
sentenci Don Gennaro,
sentndose y tironeando de mi mano para que me pusiera sobre sus rodillas.

- NO, NO Y NO!!
forcejeando a brazo partido con Don Gennaro, soltndome la mano y yndo
e a recostar mis espaldas contra la pared de la sala
USTED VA A ESPERAR A
QUE TERMINE DE SECARSE LA ROPA!
- Susanita, te ganaste una buena sculacciata
se saca la zapatilla, habla en voz ba
ja, sin rabia, pero muy divertido por la situacin Don Gennaro
ma si tengo que ir
a buscarte, ti habri ganato una sesin con LA ZAPATILLA en vez de culi mani. Cosa vo
lete?!

Nadie me haba pegado antes de Don Gennaro, y menos con una zapatilla, y la verdad
no quera probar lo que sera Don Gennaro furioso con una herramienta
As es que respi
r
hondo tragu saliva baj la cabeza y me dirig al fatdico silln de la sala sabiendo per
mente lo que me esperaba

Don Gennaro baj la amenazante zapatilla, que volvi a ocupar su lugar correspondien
te en el pie de su dueo, y me hizo arrodillar a su derecha, sobre el silln. Luego
,
tomando mi mano izquierda, tirone para colocar a su nuerita malcriada, boca abaj
o sobre sus rodillas.
Temblaba yo, esperando la orden que

por fn lleg:

- Susanita, levante esa cola!


Ante lo cual dobl las caderas, aupando mi nalgatorio para que Don Gennaro bajara
mi pijama a la mitad de los muslos, y se qued mudo ante la vista que se presentab
a,
tentadoramente sobre sus rodillas, en completa desnudez. La cola peladita de s
u nuera, a su entera disposicin!
Ahora s, Don Gennaro, de golpe comprendi toda mi resistencia, todos mis pedidos de
retrasar esta charla hasta terminar el secado Y se empez a rer!... A rer
abiertamente!... lo cual no le priv de comenzar debidamente mi correccin.
Mientras yo levantaba todo lo que poda la cabeza para mirar hacia atrs por encima
de mi hombro, vea esa mano abierta que se levantaba, se levantaba, se levantaba,
hasta que por fin describiendo un arco descendente, aplic una palmada estridente s
obre mis nalgas, impdicamente ofrecidas en toda su desnudez.. CHAS!!
- Don Genaro

AAYY!!

me quej

no tan fuerte

AAAYYY!!! AYY!! AY!.

- Je, je!
(Plas!)
As que
(Plas!) ... durmiendo senza calzone
ennaro (Plas!... Plas!... Plas!).
- AAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY!... AAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!

je, je!

contin

continuaba aullando yo.

Ah fue cuando descubr que cuanto ms fuerte gritaba, ms suaves eran las palmadas de D
on Gennaro, as es que esta vez, SIN RESISTIRME, organic un verdadero escndalo,
que ni que me estuvieran desollando viva.
- AY! UUUYYY! Ms despacio, Don Gennaro! AAYY! AYY!
AAYYY!!

gritaba yo

Le voy a contar

- Puoi contare lo que volete


respondi Don Gennaro, sacndole chispas a mi colita con
su mano derecha
mas non podera contare la historia sentada Je, je, je
- Esto no
AAAYYY!... se lo voy a perdonar HUY!
a recibida.

continuaba berreando yo, a cada nalga

Continu protestando mientras Don Gennaro me iba poniendo las nalgas rosaditas y m
is aullidos iban in crescendo, a lo cual sus azotes amainaban
Hasta que de repent
e!
Se me prendi la lamparita. Creo que fue cuando comenc a sentir una dureza que de
cuando en cuando senta sobre mi estmago
Don Gennaro no me estaba corrigiendo. Simplemente haba encontrado un motivo para
palmearme la cola de una forma socialmente aceptable, y eso, era obvio que le g
ustaba y
estimulaba.

Ah! S?
pens para m
con que este el intercambio de Don Gennaro? Pues entonces tengo
e encontrar la forma de que me resulte tambin estimulante para que no me

duela tanto.
Comenc a fingir un llanto compungido, y casi instantneamente las palmadas fueron ms
benvolas, con lo que me haca ms soportable mi castigo .
Mir hacia atrs, al tiempo que presionaba mi estmago contra la dureza que tena debajo
, lo que haca resaltar la redondez de mi trasero, para beneficio de Don Gennaro,
quien ni lerdo ni perezoso, le dio una palmada en su parte ms abultada. Encoga mi
cola cuanto poda, pero cuando la mano de Don Gennaro descenda, entonces la arquea
ba
hacia atrs impdicamente contribuyendo al aplauso que estbamos dando su mano y mi na
lgatorio.
Este movimiento sensual, me estaba produciendo unas cosquillas muy pronunciadas
en mi zona pbica, y en ese mismo instante entend el lenguaje de la mano de Don
Gennaro.
Esto fue el comienzo de una cabalgata frentica de mi parte sobre las rodillas de
mi suegro, quien continu rtmicamente, acelerando o bajando la intensidad de la azo
tana
en inversa proporcin a mis quejas y gritos.
Esa vez no pude conseguir un orgasmo, pero anduve bastante cerca. A Don Gennar
o ni lo quise mirar cuando finalmente me dej libre, pero la humedad que tena mi sa
co pijama,
me confirm mis sospechas
Me mir el trasero en el espejo, y lo tena tan colorado como la primera vez
Otra ve
z termin boca abajo en la cama, con una venda blanca en la cola y un moito colorad
o,
como Micifuz, pero ahora ya estaba tramando lo que iba a pasar el siguiente sbad
o de maana.

Por supuesto que inmediatamente le di a Giovanni todas las quejas del caso, pero
para l, la que haba provocado todo el incidente haba sido yo por no seguir ningu
na
regla y querer jugar a ser adulto sin tener en cuenta las responsabilidades que
eso trae aparejado. No lo convenc ni se apen, ni siquiera cuando me saqu la venda y
le
mostr mi colita que estaba como un tomate de roja. Se limit a poner una sonrisa
socarrona y decirme esa fatdica frase
-

Yo te dije! Pero, me parece bien que contines tus estudios, respetes la


casa, tus padres, mi padre y a Micifuz. Qu hay de malo en eso?

No tuve ms remedio que concordar, en que todo eso era lo mejor para m. Pero igual
bufaba de rabia, por la forma en que me haba sido impuesto
Esa noche, no hicimos el amor, pues no poda ponerme boca arriba Y a lo perrito tam
poco, ya que no soportaba nada en la cola, salvo la venda mojada
EL CDIGO PENAL
Ese mismo lunes, me fui a anotar nuevamente a Preparatorios para terminar de cur

sar mis estudios.


Tambin ese mismo lunes, luego de la soba que me dio Don Gennaro, cuando volvi a ca
sa luego de trabajar, se apareci por casa con un documento manuscrito, bastante v
iejo
y gastado. (Luego me enter de que lo haba escrito haca como quince aos.)
Me invit a sentarme a la mesa del comedor, cosa que hice con sumo cuidado, pues t
odava me duraban las consecuencias de la sesin del sbado pasado.
Susanita
me dijo
io quiero que sepas que me di mucho dolore, haberte dat
o una sculacciata, y si te, ti comportano come debe, non pasari mai
-

No pasar, Don Gennaro

contest yo

hoy me anot para continuar mis estudios

Molto bene, Susanita


se sonri Don Gennaro
veo que vai por buen camino, ma
, si llegara a desviarte dil buono camino. Este serano las conchecuenza de tus
acciones.
Y me hizo entrega del siguiente cdigo de infracciones.
INFRACCIONI
Parlare con la boca cargada de comida:
2 punti in contra.
No seguire la regli de la casa:
5 punti in contra.
No estudiare cuando deviere:
5 punti in contra.
Faltare il respeti a padre, madre u otri integrante de la casa:
7 punti in contra.
Fumare:
3 punti in contra.
Llegare tarde con aviso:
1 punti in contra.
Llegare tarde sin aviso.
3 punti in contra.
Llegare tarde sin aviso y ms de la 3 de la matina:
13 punti in contra.
Violare la privaca de la famiglia:
10 punti in contra.

(y as continuaba por ms de 10 hojas)


En el final adverta:
15 punti in contra: Sculacciata culi mani sobre il vestido (36)
20 punti in contra: Castigo anterior + sacada prenda de vestir (24)
25 punti in contra: Castigos anteriores + sacada prenda de vestir (48)
30 e pi: a discrezione de Gennaro
Atenzione: Desafo o pataleo automticamente poder perdere una prenda de vestire o te
ner otra docena de palmadas o la due cozi!
LLEGA RENATA
Pasaron un par de meses de mi desafortunado incidente con Micifuz y todas las sema
nas tengo varios puntos en contra. Es tan difcil poner la ropa en una silla al
desvestirse, o acordarse de poner un rollo nuevo de papel higinico cuando el ante
rior se acaba, o tapar el dentfrico cuando lo terminamos de usar en las maanas!
Vamos, una no es perfecta! Que embromar!
Pero como se borran al fin de semana, quedo libre para la que viene. En una ocas
in llegu a tener 14 ! Y era jueves! Pero me esmer, hice todo bien el viernes, y
cuando me fui a acostar esa noche, suspir aliviada de que al da siguiente, bamos a
empezar la cuenta de cero nuevamente.
Don Gennaro, iba, miraba los escarbadientes que haba puesto dentro una alcanca tra
nsparente, y los sbados de maana, abra la alcanca con una llavecita que tena junto
a su reloj de bolsillo, y los contaba uno por uno. Cuando vea que no llegaban a
quince, se sonrea, me miraba y sacudiendo la mano derecha de arriba abajo, de esa
forma
que yo conoca tan bien, me deca:
- Bene, Susanita, por hoy te salvaste Esperemo que siga la cosa sempre cos
me daba u
n beso y cerrando la alcanca vaca, la colocaba bien a la vista, en una repisa,
con otros adornos de la sala.
As iban las cosas en
, una vez al cine por
tudiado
cuatro horas), hasta
isita desde Italia, a

casa, entrando en una rutina ms de estudios, deberes, trabajo


semana, un paseo en bicicleta los sbados (despus de haber es
que avis Don Gennaro que iba a venir su sobrina Renata de v
quien no vea desde haca tres aos Renata tena mi misma edad.

Una semana despus, arrib Renata al Aeropuerto de Carrasco y la fuimos a buscar, mu


y contentos de su visita. Yo que recin la conoca, me pareci una muchacha inteligen
te,
pcara y con sentido del humor. Me sorprendi lo bien que hablaba espaol, no a la ur
uguaya, sino un castellano bien castizo, fruto de sus mltiple novios espaoles y
consiguientes viajes a la pennsula Ibrica. Luego me enter de que Renata haba vivido
con Gennaro en Uruguay, de los 13 a los 15 aos de edad.
Los primeros das, Renata se dedic a salir y visitar a sus amigos y pasear por el C
entro y no estaba nunca en casa.
Me sorprend un jueves, cuando entr al apartamento y me la encontr acostada en el si
lln de la sala, con el VCR prendido, mirando la televisin, en donde estaba, en un
primer plano, Don Gennaro, conmigo boca abajo en su falda, diciendo:
tratare ben
e a tus padres e al Micifuz (chas-chas-chas como acompaamiento de fondo)

Mortificada y con mucha vergenza, corr a apagar el televisor y el VCR.


-

Qu ests haciendo?

le dije

De donde sacaste esa cinta?

No me hizo caso y contest a mis preguntas con unas suyas:


-

Y? Qu te pareci? Te gust mucho? Disfrutaste mucho las palmadas del To Gennaro?

Qu ests diciendo?!

contest yo

Ests loca? Duelen muchsimo!

Vamos, vamos, vamos que van a doler!


me dijo Renata, relamindose
Mira que yo conozc
eso! No me digas que no tuviste alguna sensacin como de mariposas en el
estmago que se transformaban en que te humedecieras un poco en la entrepierna!

- Que mariposas en el estmago ni que nada! Yo no tuve nada de eso


dije yo, despus de
pensarlo un poco
lo que tuve fue una gran vergenza y mucho dolor en la cola
despus.
- Debe haber sido porque estaba muy furioso contigo
ites t, menos fuerte pega l

asegur Renata

- Contame. Cmo sabs tanto sobre las azotanas de Don Gennaro?


uando vivas con l?

porque cuanto ms g

retruqu yo

Te pegab

- Solamente cuando yo quera que me zurrara.


confes Renata
cuando tena ganas de unas
lmadas en el trasero, entonces un par de: Qu me importa? Y una llegada
sin avisar a las tres de la maana, hacan la triquiuela.
- Pero esas infracciones que mencionaste suman 27 puntos!
le dije, alarmada
almadas sin bombachita! Y eso te gusta? Vos ests loca de remate!

Son 108

- Mira!
me dijo Renata, muy segura de s misma
una vez que aceptes la zurra, puesto q
e sabes que va a suceder, puedes RELAJARTE. Puedes empezar a disfrutarla
preparndote mentalmente. No ves que a los bebs se los calma dndoles palmadas en la c
ola?
-

Es cierto!

- Bueno!
a!

contest yo
contina Renata

pero no con mucha fuerza.

entonces la cosa es as. No le dejes saber a Gennaro que te

- Pero es que NO me gusta


dije yo, no tan convencida de que no hubiera tenido las
mariposas en el estmago de que hablaba Renata.
- Y si quieres que te zurre ms despacio
rita ms fuerte! pero sin patalear

continuaba la experta Renata

pues entonces:

Continuamos cuchicheando sobre este tema, tan importante y otros, y no nos dimos
cuenta cuando entr Don Gennaro al apartamento.
Cuando Don Gennaro vio la cinta que estaba sobre VCR, a plena vista, la mir incrdu
lo, luego empez a ponerse rojo de a poco, y a tamborilear los dedos en el televis
or,
cuando se dio vuelta, nos dijo con una voz nerviosa, fingiendo una calma que no
tena:
-

Quin sac questa cinta del mio cuarto?

Silencio fue la contestacin que obtuvo

Foi tu, Susanita?

- No, Don Gennaro

inquiri Don Gennaro.


musit yo.

- Quin fue, Susanita?


- No s, Don Gennaro
a Renata.

pregunt Don Gennaro.


salieron de mi boca esas estpidas palabras, no queriendo acusar

- Fui yo, To
confes Renata
estaba curiosa por ver algunos de los videos de la famili
, y me encontr con este en tu cuarto, pero a Susana le da vergenza y no me
lo dej ver del todo.
- Ah s?
dijo Don Gennaro, mirndome fijamente
a a non mentire!
- Pero yo no miento, Don Gennaro
itualmente

parece que tambin hay que ensearla

dije yo, ya arrepentida de lo que haba dicho

- Ma! Qu chesto?
se enoj ms Don Gennaro, si esto era posible
ela cinta, e dopo vuelve a mentire dichendo que no miente. Qu diche
el cdigo de dua mentira descarada?

no hab

Primo me miente que

Cuando Don Gennaro fue a buscar el cdigo, sent que era posible que esto terminara
en una azotana, y en ese momento, por primera vez, sent las mariposas en el estmago
de que habamos estado hablando con Renata. Sera posible?
- Dopo parlar contigo, Renata, acerca de la cinta
dijo Don Gennaro, volviendo con e
l famoso cdigo en la mano
primo voy a tratare con Susanita.
Mentira descarada
e doble e castigada inmediatamente con 36 palmadas.
Las mariposas en el estmago eran ahora pajaritos pequeos que me revoloteaban. Mi co
razn empez a latir ms de prisa al escuchar mi sentencia, y ver que Don Gennaro, se
sentaba en el silln, tras levantarse un poco los pantalones, para no arrugarlos.
Yo estaba azorada, sin habla, y tan sorprendida como antes de mi primera zurra.
Mi mirada iba de Don Gennaro a Renata, que me devolvi la mirada con una sonrisa,
y me gui
un ojo, formando palabras con sus labios Qu me estaba diciendo?... DISFRUTALA?!
Don Gennaro, mientras tanto, se estaba arremangando la manga derecha de su camis
a.
- Bueno, Susanita!
dijo finalmente Don Gennaro, mirndome fijamente
osizione qui debe adoptar. Veni cua!
-

No, por favor, Don Gennaro!

supliqu yo

ya tu conoche la

no me haga esto! Y menos delante de Rena

- Non si preocupare por Renata!


contest Don Gennaro
nata, e tu poder observare. Veni cua!

dopo de ti, le tocar il turno a

- No, no y no!
protest yo, pateando el piso, igual que si tuviera 6 aos, en vez de 18
, el corazn me saltaba dentro del pecho, y la sensacin en el estmago se estaba
transformando en calambre
perdneme por esta vez, Don Gennaro. Por favor por favor.
-

Susanita
dijo Don Gennaro, con su voz ms suave
palmadas sin bombachita. Per ltima vez VENI CUA!

si tengo que ire a buscarte, sern 3

Comenc a sollozar, mientras me acercaba como una autmata al silln donde estaba sent

ado Gennaro, con expresin impasible. Me arrodill sobre el silln a la derecha de Do


n
Gennaro e hice un intento de echarle los brazos al cuello para suplicarle una v
ez ms de que no me castigara, pero todo fue en vano.
- Nada de eso!
dijo Don Gennaro, zafndose de mis brazos, y empujando con su mano der
echa sobre mi espalda para colocarme en esa posicin, que yo tanto tema y que ya
conoca de mi experiencia anterior
las reconciliaciones vienen dopo.
Sorprendentemente, en el momento que Don Gennaro me hizo caer sobre su falda, y
mi estmago entr en contacto con sus muslos, se me fue instantneamente el calambre d
el
estmago, no quedando ni las mariposas.
Cuando puso su brazo izquierdo sobre mi espalda y presion hacia abajo, comenc a se
ntirme extraamente segura, y hasta no me import que la posicin hiciera que levantar
a mi
cola rotunda, todava ms, en las rodillas de Don Gennaro.
Siempre me gustaron las minifaldas, y justamente hoy tena puesta una, calculo qu
e en la posicin en que estaba, apenas tapara mi bombacha.
Entre sollozos, gir la cabeza hacia atrs, en esa ltima splica silenciosa a mi suegro
, pero l estaba muy satisfecho de lo que estaba pasando. Yo estaba inmvil, sin
patalear, con mis pies apuntando al techo, como l quera, esperando esa fatdica pri
mera palmada.
Me pas su mano derecha un par de veces por la pollera, como alisndola para sacarle
alguna arruga y luego la v, cernindose amenazadoramente sobre mi trasero.
- Ay, no Don Gennaro! BUUUAAAA!
a sola nalgada todava.

grit yo, comenzando a llorar, sin que hubiera cado u

Finalmente, luego de una pausa prolongada, mi azotana comenz:


(CHAS!) - Ay, no

eso duele!

(CHAS!) - AYYYY Buuuaaa!


mir a Renata que intentaba decirme algo moviendo la boca Q
QUE-JA-TE me estaba soplando
(CHAS!)
(CHAS!) hombro.

AAAAYYYYY, AYYYY! No tan fuerte!

me quej.

AAAAYYYY!... BUUUJUUU! Demasiado fuerte!

grit mirando mi cola por sobre mi

(CHAS!)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Ms despacio, Don Gennaro, por favor!
inu mis protestas.
(Chas!)
AAYY! Bujuju!
fuerza de mis nalgadas.

continu mis ayes, a pesar de que Don Gennaro haba aminorado

(Chas!)
AAAYYY! Buaaa!
la verdad que esto ahora era mucho ms soportable que la pali
a que haba recibido anteriormente.
Yo comenc a mover mis caderas levemente, lo poco que me permita el brazo que tena s
obre la espalda, levantando primero una nalga y luego la otra.
Don Gennaro, imparta el ritmo, aplaudiendo mi cola con entusiasmo, sobre la nalga

ms protuberante.
Creo que fue cuando iba llegando a las treinta palmadas, que comenc a sentir algo
en mi entrepierna Qu era esto?
(Chas!)
AAAYYY! Buaaa!
o palmeaba con ms vigor.

continuaba gimiendo yo, levantando la voz, cuando Don Gennar

(Chas!)

realmente me estaba excitando la situacin

AY AYYY AYYYY!

Sera posible?

Luego de unas pocas palmadas ms, Don Gennaro se dio por satisfecho, y me dej levan
tarme de sus rodillas. Senta una humedad en la entrepierna. Yo no me explicaba
cmo
Creo que me hubiera gustado recibir unas palmadas ms
Le di un beso en la mejilla a Don Gennaro y me fui frotndome la cola, hacindome la
enojada y secndome las lgrimas, algunas de las cuales no fueron muy fingidas que
digamos.
LE TOCA A RENATA
-

Renata!
dijo Don Gennaro, sin siquiera levantarse del silln donde me nalgueara
meramente chinqe da que stano con noi, y ya debe llevarse la sculacciata.
Come e posbile?

hac

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