Gwen sat on the edge of her bed, waiting. In five days she would be returning to college, with all its excitement, camaraderie and parties, but right now she had to wait. Waiting some unknown length of time for her mom.
She turned the slab of oak in her hands over and over. It was something to do, even if it didn’t break her focus on the inevitable. Soon this piece of wood would be a pain in the ass, literally. It was so small, really. At about twelve inches long and a three inch blade, the paddle weighted barely a pound. But it was this slender profile that had made it so deadly to her bottom.
She glanced up, instinctively looking across her room, towards the small corner formed between her closet and bathroom door. “Then over there,” she thought aloud. Corner-time was the worst part about being spanked. Displaying her bare bottom was so embarrassing, even if it was just to her empty room. And tonight she’d be there completely nude. Her mother probably would even leave her bedroom door open so everyone in the house would see her there.
Gwen’s mother cleared her throat loud, breaking Gwen’s daydreams. “You go to the bathroom?” she asked her daughter.
“Yes,” Gwen answered meekly, looking down at her hands, which nervously fiddled with the paddle. A strong blush filled her cheeks as she was reminded of the incident prompting her mother to ask the question before every spanking. She wet her mother’s lap one time and now is reminded to pee before every spanking.
“Then stand up and I’ll take that.” Gwen’s mother indicated the paddle. The two generations exchanged the piece of wood, and with it their positions.
Gwen couldn’t understand why, but she had to stare at the paddle the whole time she stood before her mother and was scolded. She had illogical feeling that if she focused on it then the paddle couldn’t sneak up on her. Subconsciously it was she was trying to avoid the feelings of letting her parents down that came with the scolding.
“I still can’t believe you got yourself arrested. Your father and I raised you better than that. Especially not to do what you were doing, what ever it was!” Gwen’s mother scolded. “Do you have anything to say?”
That last line always finished these lectures. There was only one thing Gwen could do. “I’m sorry mom. I really am. You don’t need to spank me again, I’ve learned my lesson,” Gwen pleaded.
“I don’t want this lesson to be one you forget, EVER!” Gwen’s mom took up the same position which Gwen held a mere ten minutes earlier. “You can remove that robe, young lady,” she said, motioning to the knot around her daughter’s waist.
Even though her mother had seen her naked many times, it was situations like this that were the hardest to disrobe. Her fingers fumbled with the Terra cloth knot, to really able to follow the order provided by her left brain. “Please?”
The plea of mercy fell on deaf ears. A pair of raised eyebrows was enough to prompt Gwen into decisive action, freeing the knot and shedding the robe. The front flaps parted slightly to show more of her cleavage and little else.
“Please mom, not hard!” Gwen pleaded, even though she obediently draped her torso over the awaiting knees. “I put in as much time as they would allow.”
“You shouldn’t have had to do community service in the first place!” Gwen’s mother scolded her upturned daughter. She didn’t really care how much of the community service Gwen had done, but the outstanding community service hours may help drive home her point. She wasn’t one who believed in undue formality during spankings, mainly because she hated it when her father had made her count her swats. “But you are right.”
“I am?” Gwen squeaked. Her mother had never gave in to any of her pleas for mercy before, so why now? Was it a trap?
“You have tried to put in the time. How much did you get completed?” Gwen was asked.
“So you have 54 left? Then I’ll only spank you 54 times.”
“MOM!” The realization hit her a little to late. 54 was probably more than she would normally get, though she had never tried counting.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The little paddle blasted into Gwen’s bottom with a slow cadence. The sound of her mother’s voice, mocking with it painstakingly slow increase.
CRACK! “Eight,” CRACK! “Nine,” CRACK! “Ten.”
“Ouch! please!” Gwen cried as her mother reached a dozen. The little piece of white oak was doing too effectively, Gwen thought.
CRACK! “Fourteen,” CRACK! “Fifteen,” CRACK! “Sixteen.”
“Ahh, Ahhh, ahhh pleaaasssahhh!” Gwen cried in unison to her mother’s counting. Her bottom had moved well past the sunburn stage and started to get to the frying pan stage. It was at this point she would always start to involuntarily kick her legs about, trying to move her bottom out of firing range. It was a pointless exercise, but her mind said she had to do something.
CRACK! “Twenty-four,” CRACK! “Twenty-five,” CRACK! “Twenty-six.” Gwen’s mom paused for a moment to view her work. Both of her daughter’s cheeks held a deep red tone, with slight maroon and purple ovals forming at the crowns. She hated going past this point and causing bruises, but experience had told her than Gwen only learned when she couldn’t sit for a few days. She consciously sat aside her motherly instinct of sweeping up her crying baby in her arms and reminded herself that Gwen had gotten arrested and needed this lesson.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The little paddle blasted away again. Gwen semi-audible pleas turned less distinguishable as the count rose into the thirties. By forty, Gwen was reduced to a low continuous wail, punctuated with hiccups timed to the impact of oak on flesh.
Gwen didn’t even realize her mother had reached the end until she was helped up and into a mighty hug.
“Waaaaa, soorrry, waaaa,” the girl cried into her mother’s chest.
“It’s ok baby. it’s ok.” Mother hugged daughter while daughter tried to rub away the fire. After a minute or so, Gwen was ushered to her usual bedroom corner to cry herself out and reflect on why she was in this position. Earlier she knew this would happen, and at the time modesty and the embarrassment of being placed in a corner like a naughty child were all she could think about. Now, neither mattered.
Her mother left her there until her parents decided to head to bed, a period of about an hour. The time served her well, allowing her to fully regain her composure while reflecting on the changes she wanted to make in her life. Unlike after most spankings, this time she resolved on the admirable goals of focusing on school, avoiding guys and trying to build a friendship with Becky.