Texting cometh before the spanking

“So Mom, did you guys win!” Becky asked her parents immediately upon their arrival home from court.

“Yes dear. The company is going to cover your father’s medical costs and we were awarded a hundred thousand for his lost wages.”

“YES! YES! YES! The bastards deserve to pay!” the girl cheered as she preformed a little dance around the living room.

“Becky, you can’t tell anyone about it though. There’s a confidentiality agreement preventing us from saying anything,” her father said as he moved slowly towards the couch. The non-opiate pain killers he was taking since the last surgery made him drowsy most of the time. The doctor had told him these pain killers were better than the hydrocodeine derived pills, since they were not as physically addictive.

“Oh, I won’t Daddy,” Becky said, before taking off upstairs to her room.

“UR rents are paying? OMG!” Cindy messaged Becky.

“Ya, dad won suit against his old job and now they R rich,” Becky messaged.

“U lucky biatch!” Cindy responded. “How much?”

“like 100k” Becky messaged.

“Damn.”

“Yea, McGarretts paying for Europe!”

“EV1 will be jealous!!!!” Cindy messaged.

Becky smiled at the message. Cindy was one of the two friends could scrape together enough money to make the summer trip across Europe. All the rest of her friends at college had to work all summer, just to be able to pay for food and books during their term. The news that she was basically vacationing in Europe on someone else’s money would kill them, especially her rival, Tricia. She just had to make sure everyone knew.

She made a few flicks of her finger across the iPhone screen then typed “Rent’s won case so now going to Europe on McGarrett’s dime! HA!” into the status message box and hit post. Instantly, her 1,427 followers received the tweet.

“You Biatch! I saw UR tweet!” Cindy messaged a couple of moments later.

“Good! Hope Tricia sees it 2!” Becky responded.

“Shes goin die!”

—-

Becky ran down the stairs at the sound of the doorbell. Her new hiking boots were supposed to be arriving from Amazon today and couldn’t wait to try them on. Opening the door she say the oddest looking delivery man ever. The man standing on the porch was in his mid-thirties and wore a sports jacket over jeans instead of the typical uniform.

“Is this the residence of Christopher Jones?” the man at the door asked.

“Yea, why?” Becky responded with a bit of lip, annoyed he wasn’t there to deliver her boots.

“May I speak with him,” the man said politely. “I have a deliver for Mr. Jones.”

“I’m Chris Jones,” Becky’s father said, coming up behind her. “What is this about?”

The man pulled out thick white envelope and handed it to her father before saying, “you have been served.” The man then turned and walked down the sidewalk to his car.

“What’s that?” Becky asked her father.

Chris tore open the envelope while balancing on his crutches. He quickly scanned the top page of the enclosed papers. “Ah, I am being sued for breach of contract by McGarrett Industries,” he said rather puzzled. He hadn’t had any contact with his former employer since the lawsuit ended 8 months ago. How could he have breached some contract when he didn’t work for them any longer?

—-

“… Mr. Jones, that does not negate the fact that you disclosed the terms of the settlement to a third-party.”

“But Becky is my daughter and it wasn’t intentional!” Chris pleaded with the well dress attorney across the table from him.

James Fastner gently waved his hand in the direction of his senior corporate counsel, silencing the response from the older man to his left. “Mr. Jones, other than the money you intended on spending on your daughter’s study abroad trip, do you have any of the settlement left?”

“Just a little bit. We used most of it to pay off debt and our house so that we could get by on my wife’s salary.” Chris conceded. It wasn’t probably a smart negotiating tactic, though coming to McGarrett without a lawyer wasn’t smart either.

“And did you feel the original settlement was fair?”

“Yes, it was very generous sir.” Chris answered.

“And do you agree that your daughter broke the terms of the settlement and therefore she should be punished?” Mr Fastner asked.

“Ah,” Chris stumbled with the answer. They had clear-cut proof of his daughter breaking the confidentiality agreement, though the CEO’s tone was laced with empathy. “yes sir.”

“Fine. I will withdrawal the suit if your daughter is punished adequately for her utter lack of respect and complete disregard for rules.”

“Oh, thank you sir!” Chris said.

“Thank you,” Becky’s mother added, reaching for Mr. Fastner’s hand.

“She is definitely not going to Europe, and she’ll work here all summer as unpaid intern, and” Chris started making promises on behalf of his daughter who was still more interested in her phone than the conversation occurring in front of her.

“Ah, no that will not be necessary. We are a manufacturing company and I doubt your daughter has even basic skills that could be put to use here. No, she should still study abroad. That is an education unlike anything you can receive in the states. I think your daughter needs a more old fashioned lesson. Something that will break through her self-entitled brat persona.”

“What, she is not” Becky’s mom started to protest, though Mr. Fastner simply nodded towards the girl on her mother’s left.

“When was the last time you lighted a fire in her behind?” Mr. Fastner asked.

“We push our daughter to excel in her classes all the time.” Mrs. Jones answered.

“No, I do not push her,” James paused to make sure he had their full attention. “I mean spank her.”

“WHAT!” Mrs Jones cried out indignation. Becky’s mother started to stand up as stammered, “I…we…HOW DARE YOU!” She felt she had to say something, but she just could not come up with the words.

Chris looked down towards the table while lightly rubbing above his brow.

“Honey, sit down.” The tone of Chris’ voice surprised his wife into obedience more than anything else.

“Mr. Fastner, what do you believe would be an adequate punishment for Becky’s actions?”

“If she was my daughter, I’d have taken a strap to her bottom and made sure she understood the gravity of the situation.”

Chris thought back to his childhood and the few trips he’d taken with his father out to the woodshed. Back then was a different time, but the lessons still resonated with him today. Doing such to his own princess would kill him, but it was probably for the best. They certainty could not repay the money and maybe she would learn something. “Fair enough, I will do it this evening.”

“Mr. Jones, I believe you are an honorable man, and will attempt to follow through with your word. I, however, do not have such faith in your wife and daughter that such punishment will be completed.” James glanced at his watch to verify the timing of the events running through his head. “After we get done here, you and your wife will take your daughter home and do what ever you fell appropriate. At 7:00 pm this evening I will come by and witness you spanking of her. Does that sound reasonable?”

Chris let out a long sigh before saying “Yes.”

“Do you have an old belt or some other piece of leather which work as a strap?”

“Yes, I have something in mind.”

“Good, then I hope our problem will be resolved this evening.” James stood up and walked out of the conference room without saying another word. Mr and Mrs Jones stole a tepid look at each other as their daughter continued playing with her phone, completely unaware of the deal her parents had just struck.

Becky paced her room as the anxiety overwhelmed her. Her mind was a mess of the questions, anxiety and outright fears. She thought about the ridiculousness of the whole situation and how stupid she was by blabbing to Cindy about the settlement. Cindy had the biggest mouth of all her friends, and she knew telling her would quickly lap her entire circle. And it had been great to see the look on Tricia’s face the next day. Her frenemy hadn’t been able to look at her since then. It had been awesome.

But was it worth it? Would getting spanked be worth making Tricia insane with jealously?

“Daddy won’t let that evil man hurt me,” Becky told herself as she looked in the mirror. She practice making puppy-dog eyes and acting as innocent as possible.

—-

Mr. Fastner stood at the door holding a black leather attache case. He could feel his nerves start to get to him as he waited. The tension had been building since the Jones had left his office this afternoon. Numerous times he had to remind himself this was the right thing to do, even if not most legal option to the situation. The naive girl would learn a valuable lesson and that is more important than the money he had told his general counsel, president and himself.

Chris opened the door and ushered Mr. Fastner inside. James felt a current of electricity flowing through the small living room. It took him back two decades, when he was in his first managerial position, walking into the small dank conference room where two well seasoned  line workers sat waiting for him. It was the first time he had ever fired an employee, and probably one of the hardest tasks he had ever done in business. Both men had more years at the company than he had had on earth, but it didn’t change the fact they were caught clocking out for one another and the company had cut staff by 10 percent or risk bankruptcy. Looking back, Mr. Fastner found the situation ironic, since two years later he lead the effort to put the same company into Chapter 11 and now used it as the cornerstone of his small empire.

Mr. Fastner placed his brief case on his lap and flicked the latches allowing the top to spring open. He looked inside, glanced up at the three Jones’ sitting on the couch then back into the case. Reaching under the top folder, he withdrew the second folder of legal documents. “He are the terms by which the lawsuit will be dropped against you for breach of contract.” He handed the folder across the coffee table to Chris and paused to give the father a moment to start reading the cover page. “In there, it explains that Becky has been punished for breaking the confidentiality agreement and that she will put any funds that she gets because of the settlement to good use in making her a good and productive member of society. Please read through it and there is a spot for all three of you to initial at the bottom of each page and to sign at the end.”

James sat back as watched Chris read through the first page before handing it to his wife. The entire agreement was a mere six pages, unusually short for one of his contracts. His attorney did not think any such agreement would hold up in court, so the length was merely to impart some fear into the Jones than actually create a legally binding agreement.

“Now, Mr. Jones, the settlement was 88 thousand, correct?” James asked once Chris passed the last page to his wife.

“Yes, sir. Well plus the medical costs.” Chris answered.

“OK, then it seems only fair she receives 88 swats with the belt. One swat per thousand dollars,” James said with a deadpan expression. He had given Becky’s punishment some thought after the Jones had left this afternoon, and believed he had come up with a fair punishment which would make a strong impact on the self-entitled girl. A skilled negotiator, this opening request was intended to create a particular reaction from each member of the Jones family.

“WHAT!” Becky cried out. “88! That is totally unfair!” She stomped her foot like a naughty kid. “I won’t do it!” Becky crossed her arms as she shook her head, tossing her dirty blonde pony tail back and forth.

“OK, then I will have to withdrawal the offer of dropping the lawsuit.”

“Please, Mr. Fastner, 88 is a lot. Please, how about 20 instead.” Mrs. Jones interjected.

“20 swats across her jeans is whole inadequate for the seriousness of her actions,” Mr Fastner countered.

“Ah, what about 20 across her panties?” Mrs. Jones said.

“50 across her panties.”

“20 and on my bare bottom” Becky countered. This was exactly want James was looking for, consent by Becky to her punishment.

“22 on your bare bottom will be adequate.”

“Deal!” Becky said holding out her hand like she had just won a heated negotiation.

Mr. Fastner smirked slightly when he saw the prideful smile spread across Becky’s face. “Girl, don’t you know that pride cometh before the fall,” he said in his head as he extended his hand to accept the “deal.”

Once James and Becky shook hands, and awkward silence filled the room. Everyone knew what was next, through no one wanted to say anything. James wanted one of Becky’s parents to take charge of the situation while the Jones were not quite sure how Mr. Fastner wanted to main event to proceed.

James started to slowly open his mouth when Mrs. Jones blurted out, “Becky why don’t you go over the back of the couch?”

“Yes, yes,” Chris responded rather awkwardly and he stood up. All three Jones scurried to take their positions for the next stage. Becky moved behind the couch and knelt slightly as she undid the button on her jeans. Keeping low and facing the back of the couch, she lowered her jeans and panties together to mid-thigh, then slowly curled over the back of the couch until she was fully inverted.

Mr. Fastner stayed seated in his chair opposite the couch as he watched the amusing show. Becky clearly did not want to show anything more than necessary while Mr. Jones did not want to see his daughter either. James predicted everyone would see more of Becky than she desired before the evening was over.

Chris pulled the doubled over belt back, over his shoulder and brought it soundly down onto his daughter’s bottom. He had tried to make it look like it was hard, but place only a mild level of force behind the swat. He didn’t really want to hurt her, but felt obliged to carry out his duty, especially since Mr. Fastner was watching.

CRACK! “AAHHH!” Becky screeched as the whipped across her bottom. She wiggled her hips about while trying to reach her hands back to protect her bottom.

“Becky, now,” Chris reprimanded his daughter quietly, believing her reaction was more acting than legitimate distress.

CRACK! “AAHHH!” Becky screamed as her hands once again shot to console her bottom.

A mixture of annoyance and embarrassment built within Mr. Jones. First she had shot off her mouth about the settlement, then she had been completely disrespectful to Mr. Fastner, now she was refusing to own up to her mistakes and take the punishment like an adult. He pulled her left wrist upwards, into the small of back and whipped the belt down into it’s target.

CRACK! “AAHHH!” Becky screeched again. Her father didn’t allow her much time to react, instead repeat the hard swat again and again.

The sudden ferocity broke Becky’s comprehension of the situation. She still felt the pain building in her bottom with each successive blow, through she no longer felt the need to fight it. Around halfway, her lungs gave out and she could no longer even vocally protest. Each new swat was simply punctuated her sobs with a grunt. The whole situation overcame her quickly after that, freeing her mind from her body and letting it drift through oblivion.

Becky didn’t consciously recognized the end of the spanking, or her mother helping her up. The first real event to break was her mother’s voice yelling her name as she danced around half-naked, rubbing her bottom. When reality came crashing back, all she could do was shriek in embarrassment, pull her jeans and panties up towards her hips and take off for her room.

Becky immediately dropped her jeans and panties once the door was locked. Arching her head over her shoulder she admired the damage to her bottom. Even through the tear hazed eyes, she make out angry red bands crisscrossing her formerly snow white skin. Becky could only think of one thing, she NEVER wanted that to happen again. And it definitely wasn’t worth making Tricia jealous. Her jeans and panties remained at the door as she collapsed into bed to cry.

Mr. Fastner and the Jones spoke briefly after Becky left. Once James had left, the Jones stayed in the living room and talked over the new offer Mr. Fastner had made. It was mighty tempting, through they were concerned whether Becky would agree to the terms. They were severe, through probably not unwarranted. They agreed to wait, and see the effect this experience had on their daughter before even bringing up the idea to her.

Crying ain’t going to fix anythin – Conclusion

This is the conclusion to Crying ain’t going to fix anythin. This part of the story contains a scene which some may find slightly disgusting. The essence of this entire story, including the slightly disgusting part was related to me by a friend after we had a couple too many shots of rum. If you read the first part, you probably guess what is coming. I just wanted to forewarn my readers.

I never knew I could blush as much as I did leaving my dorm room. Couldn’t bare to look anyone in the face, instead focusing on back of mom’s shoes as we traversed the path to the car. I could feel whispers behind my back as we passed my floor mates. “Look at the naughty girl,” “Ah, the little girl got a spankin'”, and similar phrases filled my ears. I was too embarrassed to look up and see if anyone was actually saying anything.

Mom had been luck and found a parking spot in the visitor’s section in front of the dorm.

“Owe” I winced when my tender backside pressed against the leather seat. The stingy sensation was being reignited by the hot leather. I pressed my arms straight down, lifting myself slightly off the seat to provide some relief to the sting.

“Seat belt!?” Mom asked in her rhetorical, why haven’t you done something, kind of manner.

I glanced to my right, only to realize there would be no way to buckle the seat belt without removing one of my hands. I tried to tilt to my right and use my left hand pull the seat belt across my body, my clumsiness assisted me in leaning too far right and falling against the door. I ended up landing squarely on my smarting bottom. With an “Ouch!” I pulled the seat belt across my body and immediately tried to propel myself off my bottom again.

“Enough of that!” Mom scolded, slapping away my hands from getting between my bottom and the seat.

“Grrr” I growled under my breath. I am so glad Mom didn’t hear me, or at least didn’t care, because if she had, I’m sure I would have taken another trip over her lap.

The ride home seemed to take forever, yet was over in an instant, all at the same time. The first half I spent trying to relieve some of the smarting in my bottom, which never really occurred. During the second half my mind started wandering. I thought about what Dad would say, then my friends. My friends would probably be supportive. My Grandma Rosselin though would be so disappointed. I was her first grandchild to go to college, and now I had screwed that up royally. Well, Dad and Grandpa had both went to college, but that was West Point, and she was so happy that I got into a non-military college.

We were about a block from home when mom pulled off the road into the corner drug store. I didn’t even realize we had stopped until mom broke me from my thoughts. “You can stay here. I’ll only be a minute,” she said getting out.

I had been to this particular drug store a thousand times, but this time it seemed different. Foreign almost. I had been at school for three months, but sitting in the car, watching the people go in and out of the store. The kids seemed younger, the adults didn’t seem so old and even though my hometown is quite small, I didn’t recognize a single person. Had everything changed suddenly, or was it just that I had started to change?

Mom returned a few minutes later, a white plastic bag poking out of her purse. I knew what was in the bag, but I didn’t have the courage to ask.

Upon arriving at home, Mom sent me to my room. I hadn’t been sent to my room in a decade, though there has been many times when I have willingly went to my room to avoid getting in further trouble. I felt soo juvenile being sent to my room without supper like a naughty little kid. The saving grace was having some time alone. Mom had said that Dad wouldn’t be back from training exercises until morning, so I had a little bit of a reprieve.

Collapsing onto my bed, for some reason I thought back to British history class on Thursday when the professor was discussion Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. I wondered if she felt like I did the night before her execution. I dreaded tomorrow’s events, though I accepted the fact I could not change my future now.

I thought getting spanked in front of my floor-mates was embarrassing, but it couldn’t compare to my morning. Mom woke me early in the morning and dragged me to the bathroom. I was still picking the eye crusties from crying myself to sleep when she instructed me to sit on the toilet with my legs spread.

“What!” I asked. I know how to use the bathroom and have been doing it for years without supervision.

“Sit and spread your legs wide, now!” Mom commanded. Instinct, and probably a healthy dose of fear, caused me to follow her instructions without any further protest. I sat down on the toilet and was reminded of yesterday’s bathroom experience.

“Com’on, get your panties down,” Mom seemed annoyed. I had through I was following instructions, but stood up a little to tug my panties down from beneath my night shirt down to my ankles. I completed the slightly awkward task while keeping my nightshirt low around my waist. “Pull that up,” Mom said, waving a white stick at my shirt.

I gave a little pout, which Mom did not like. She simply grabbed the hem of my shirt with her free hand and yanked it up to my neck then thrust the white stick below my crotch. I now recognized it was a pregnancy test. “Mom, I can do it.” I tried to protest, reaching for her lower hand.

“Now stop it! Just pee slowly, I want to make sure you did it correctly!” Mom reprimanded.

I am sure I turned every shade of red imaginable, but I couldn’t bring myself to relieve myself while my mom watched. Using the bathroom was an utter private event. She might have saw me naked hundreds of times, but doing that was beyond embarrassing. My bladder may have been full, but this was too much.

“Com’on pee, or do you need a reminder?” Mom asked.

I think the mention of a “reminder” with the hairbrush scared me more than anything, because I started peeing within a moment. I covered my face as the urine kept coming and coming. I was slightly concerned my cheeks were going to catch on fire.

At some point I finished and Mom withdrew the test. I didn’t uncover my face until she said something. “Did you take a pregnancy test earlier?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, lowering my hands.

“And did it show two lines like this?” Mom asked, holding the test in front of my face. I could smell the acidic stench of urine as it neared my face. There was one line in the left circle and one line the in right circle, just like the test I had taken.

“Yes, two lines, I told you I’m pregnant,” I muttered, looking away.

“That’s ONE line, the line in the right circle means it worked! Didn’t you read the instructions?” Mom asked.

“Yea….hmmm…kinda. It said 2 lines was pregnant,” I protested.

“Two lines in the RESULTS CIRCLE!” Mom said with a long, drawn-out sigh. “Well, get yourself cleaned up. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. I already told your father last night, and he said he would be home by 9 this morning. I’ll let you give him the good news.” Mom left be sitting on the toilet.

I was relieved at my mistake, though the discussion with Dad scared the hell out of me. I always felt so protected and special when he was around, expect when I was in trouble. He has this amazing ability to turn on and off his inner Colonel. Growing up I had seen him treat me like a princess one moment then turn around and ripe into a Private or 2nd Lieutenant and immediately treating me like a princess. Though when I was naughty, he would turn on his inner Colonel until after my sentence was executed. Then I was back to being his little princess, no matter how old I was.

There are three words that can shake anyone to their core, especially when said in a stern voice by their parent. When dad slowly, started his lecture with my full name, I knew I was doomed. He was going to tan my hide and tan it well. I might as well just get up, drop my PJs and panties and bend over the desk. It would save him the breath of the lecture. Even though I knew it was inevitable, I couldn’t bare to actually move.

“…well, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Dad ended all his lectures with that statement.

It was now my turn to confess all I thought he knew and beg for mercy. He already knew everything so all I really could do was beg for mercy. Something deep down inside me said I didn’t deserve his mercy though. I had screwed up royally and deserved anything and everything he thought appropriate. So with a little hesitation I replied, “No sir.”

There was a long pause before he began again. “Being an adult has new responsibilities, including setting one’s own expectations and consequences.” He said.

This was new, I thought. I looked up from playing with my fingernails to find Dad seated in the other chair, leaning towards me as he spoke. I couldn’t remember him ever sitting down during one of my lectures. Well, I could never remember us both sitting down during one of this lectures.

“Is getting pregnant before being married one of your expectations for yourself?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

“And what is an appropriate consequence for getting yourself into a situation where that expectation could not be meet?”

I knew the answer I wanted to say and it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. I didn’t want to risk making him any more mad at me and went with the answer he wanted. “A spanking, sir.”

“And so have you been appropriately punished for your actions?” he asked.

There was something different in his voice this time. It was as if he was sincerely asking for my thoughts rather than going through an exercise. I bit my lower lip for a moment while I contemplating risking the affirmative response.

“Hu sweetie?” Dad urged gently.

He only ever referred to me as sweetie when he was trying to be comforting, not angry. This gave me enough hope to risk the affirmative response. “Yes sir.” I answered meekly.

“Are you sure? The spanking your mother gave you was adequate for the promiscuity, the unprotected sex, the inattention to details when reading the test?” Dad added.

Even the comforting, sincere tone couldn’t convince me to lie. I still felt guilty for the whole episode and if I had truly been punished adequately, I wouldn’t feel guilty, would I? The guilt felt horrible, not as bad as a spanking, but bed enough. And when would it go away? Even though saying no would mean another trip over the knee, it hopefully would get rid of this guilty feeling. “No sir,” I admitted.

“And therefore what should happen?”

“I should be spanked again.”

“OK, prepare yourself then.”

Dad had never put it quite like that before, though this entire line of questioning had been different. I stood up and first looked at his lap, then the desk and finally the space behind us. All three were valid options and he hadn’t stated which one. Over his lap always made me feel childish though the desk seemed like an equally juvenile position. Touching my toes would hurt worst than the other two, but seemed the most adult option. I am an adult and I am taking an adult punishment, so there really was only one choice.

I took three steps towards the back wall, so that I was well clear of any furniture. I contemplated leaving my PJs or panties up, but either seemed wrong. I closed my eyes, hooked my thumbs under my panty waistline and lowered both garments together. I stayed inverted and grasped my ankles to wait for the incoming pain.

Dad’s belt drew tears from me on the first stroke. It stung me to my core, yet I felt relieved at the same time. Cliche or not, but it felt as if each swat was lifting the weight of the world off my shoulders. I had read of the trials by fire of different cultures, and how this physically painful events could bring spiritual enlightenment, though I had never believed them until that moment. This spanking would become my trial by fire into adulthood.

Afterwards the normal hugs and cuddling on Daddy’s lap occurred. It had been a long time since I had felt like his little girl instead of a headstrong teenager taking on the world alone.

I wish I could say that was the last spanking I ever got. I’ve had a few more trips over Mom’s knee or Dad’s desk, though each of them has been at my prompting, rather that of my parents’. I swear Mom almost fainted the first time I came back from college and presented her my hairbrush before confessing to a bunch of things and draping myself over her lap. I know she thought I was crazy, but she carried out her motherly duty.

In the back of a cop car

You drove right past
That no trespassing sign
We sat on the tailgate
And watched the planes take off

I thought we had all night
There was no need to rush
That’s when those cops
Came pulling up
And I thought
Man, ain’t this some shit

My daddy’s gonna kill me
But if I survive tonight
I wouldn’t change one thing
Baby, yeah
I know it sounds crazy

But there was something bout the way
The blue lights were shining
Bringing out the freedom in your eyes
I was too busy watching you
Going wild child
To be worried about going to jail
You were thinking that
Running for it
Would make a good story
I was thinking you were crazy as hell
And I was so innocent
But you were stealing my heart
I fell in love in the back of a cop car

Man, they weren’t playing
They sure threw those cuffs on quick
I tried to sweet talk ’em
They didn’t fall for it
But you did
You were on the left
I was on the right
You knew I didn’t smoke
When I asked him for a light
And you laughed
He got mad and slammed the door

Daddy’s gonna kill me
But if I survive tonight
I wouldn’t change one thing
Baby, yeah
I know it sounds crazy

But there was something bout the way
The blue lights were shining
Bringing out the freedom in your eyes
I was too busy watching you
Going wild child
To be worried about law school
You were thinking that
Loving on me
Would make a good story
I was thinking we were crazy as hell
Harvard wouldn’t wait
And daddy wouldn’t understand
I fell in love in the back of a cop car

Side by side
And locked in tight
They were taking their time
But we didn’t mind
We talked
And we laughed
We sat real close
By the time they let us go
I was already gone

Daddy didn’t understand what I saw
Those blue lights were still flashing
When they dropped me off
He was too busy seeing your tattoos
And the cop car
To be worried about my showing that belt
I was thinking that
Running for it
Would make a good story
I was thinking this was hurting like hell
And I wasn’t so innocent
But daddy was stripping my bottom
For I fell in love in the back of a cop car

Three Ghosts of Halloween, Part IV

This is the fourth, and final part, of the Three Ghosts of Halloween story. It begins with Part I and continues with Part II and Part III.

It took me forever to find Brittany. The people in the living room said she was in the kitchen while the people in kitchen said she was in the living. Finally someone mentioned she had went down to the basement to get some more wine. It taken 15 minutes of searching before I finally found her a storage room in the basement.

“Hey, Bethany’s being attacked by Jake!” I exclaimed.

“What?” Brittany was clearly shocked by my statement. “Attacked?” She probably had more to drink than me, so logic wasn’t her strong suit at the moment.

“Come on, I’ll show you!” I took her hand, and led her upstairs to the master bathroom. During the winding trip upstairs, I started questioning why I had searched for Brittany over Rick or Adam. Either man would have been able to put an instant stop to Jake’s actions. They had meet when playing football in college as walk-on linebackers and neither had lost much of their physics since college.

When we got to the master bedroom, I went straight for the bathroom door, while Brittany held back slightly. Throwing open the door exposed the completely empty bathroom. By this point I figured Jake would have fled, but Bethany also?

“She was right here!” I swear. “And Jake was beating her like some child.”

“Ah, are you sure?” She questioned. The bathroom was obviously empty.

“He was, I swear! She was over his lap with her panties pulled down and was slapping her bottom!”

Brittany blinked slowly as if what I said had relaxed her in some way. “Why don’t you sit down so we can talk.”

“We need to find her, make sure she’s safe!” Why didn’t she want to search for her sister?

“Please, sit. I know what is going on.” Brittany took a seat on the end of her bed and gently patted the spot next to her.

Something wasn’t right. Why was she so calm? Didn’t she worry for Bethany’s safety?

“Please,” she repeated.

I reluctantly obeyed, perching tentatively on the edge of the bed.

“Have you and Adam ever had a disagreement that simmered for days? The conflict slowly eating away at you until you finally burst into a full blown fight?”

“No…” I lied. What do Adam and my martial issues have to do with Bethany? I currently was a little annoyed with Adam for forgetting to get tickets to last weekend’s symphony concert, but that didn’t matter right now.

“Are you sure?” She asked again. “Because my students can lie better than you.”

“Maybe,” I relented, waving my hand off dismissively.

“Doesn’t the emotional strain draw every bit of energy from you?”

“Yea, but arguing is kind of fun, and the makeup sex is so worth it. So what?”

“The sex is so good because you no longer have this great burden weighting you down, preventing you from feeling life.” She licked her lips as I could tell she was contemplating her next words carefully. “Some people…. Some of us have been wise enough to embrace clear, crisp solutions to martial conflicts. Going over our man’s lap and being spanked happens to be a more prevalent and successful solution.”

I think my jaw hit the ground at that moment. “You’re kidding me,” I shook my head dismissively. Spanking conflicted with everything I had been taught growing up. Men are supposed to respect women, not beat them.

“I’m not kidding. It may seem like a juvenile punishment, but between a husband and wife it is much more complex. More intimate.” Brittany explained.

“Bethany gets off on it? Like a fetish?” I asked. Fetishes were something I never really understood. I didn’t really like anything strange in the bedroom department. Just straight making out and intercourse.

“I sincerely doubt she receives any sexual pleasure during a punishment spanking. It is also not a fetish in the way feet or latex. Like I said it is more complex. You are offering yourself up to be disciplined. After which all your sins are washed away and you feel pure, innocent again.”

I cocked my head to the side trying to comprehend what she was saying.

“Remember before Adam, when you broke up with your last boyfriend who broke up with you?”

“Nope, I always dumped them.” She raised her eyebrow questioning my truthfulness again. “Ok, fine. I remember.”

“Right afterwards you were a mix of emotions; anger, sadness, confusion, etc? Then the first thing you did when you got home was cry your eyes out over a pint, or two, of Hagen Dais?”

“Yea. Rocky road was break-up go to.”

“Cookies and Cream here. Once the tears were all gone, that fog of emotions had parted and you could barely remember why you even liked the guy?”

“Yea.” Where was she going with this?

“Getting spanked is a conduit for that emotional release. You are forced to cry all those pent-up emotions out through your tears until the real you is left. The you that loves your husband with every ounce of your being.”

“Hmm. but it”

“You are offering yourself to be disciplined. Abuse is non-consensual. There is nothing abusive when you are consenting to it.”

“But…but…” I was reaching for some objectionable point, but she had already dismissed all of them.

“But you really won’t understand until you try it.”

I still wasn’t buying what ever she was selling.

“Oh, and the sex in the afterglow of a spanking is like ten times better than makeup sex.”

Now it was my turn to question her truthfulness.

“The spanking focuses your brain, and blood, on your hips area, making all your girly parts become ultra sensitive so the briefest contact.”

She paused for a long moment, offering me a chance to object, but I couldn’t think of any legitimate reason.

“I’ll think about it.” I conceded. The concept was intriguing, but still didn’t feel right. How could a modern woman like myself ALLOW a man to spank me.

“Good. And don’t worry about Bethany. I’m sure she’s fine.” Brittany stood up and started for the bedroom door. “Come on, it’s a party. Lets have some fun.”

I wasn’t in the party mood, but followed her downstairs nonetheless. I figured I should find Adam. I got to the top of the stairs when I realized I had never completed my original mission. I did a little pivot at the top of the stairs and returned to the master bathroom.

Sitting on the toilet, all I could think of was Bethany laying over Jake’s knee and that bathbrush crashing into her bottom. Her bare bottom had been a mere four feet in front of my current position. The brush, still sitting on edge of the tub, sweeping down in a mighty arc. Her yelp of pain. Her plea of acceptance. I could swear I her say “Gloria, it is OK.”

A cold breeze traveled down my spine, wrapping around to tickle my most intimate parts. The responding shiver shook my entire body off the toilet.

My heart raced. Adrenaline surged through my veins. Everywhere I looked, the bathroom was empty. But someone had just spoke to me and something had just touched me.

Shucking up my panties, I waddled as fast as possible out of the bathroom, even skipping my normal hygiene routine. I was not sure what was going on, but I did not want to be in that bathroom any more.

A sound from the bathroom caused me to glance back as I flung open the bedroom door. The sound echoed again, this time more clearly audible.
It was the sound of wood rapping on soft, smooth flesh. The sound I heard earlier and it was following me,

I rushed through the doorway, still looking over my shoulder, straight into a younger girl.

“Careful!” the girl chided.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, holding my hands up slightly, as if I was warding off an attack from her. The petite girl was dressed up like a NFL football player, complete with the black eye hashes. Underneath the costume, she looked eerily familiar. “Wait, aren’t you girl that was on tv today? The one involved in that homecoming party?”

“Yea, my FATHER was sharing all the gory details on tv.” she said, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“Sorry.”

“It is ok, but you should be more careful in the future, otherwise you might end up the same situation as my friends and I.”

“Hu?” I asked.

“Learning a lesson the hard way. We can all learn lessons, even as we get older. Sometimes they hurt a bunch right now and are over with, while others drag on for days or more. Honestly, I prefer the quick sharp ones.” She shrugged her shoulders, then turned to go in the direction of the upstairs bathroom.

I took one step down the stairs when I realized the news report involved a town 15 miles away. Why would that girl be here, especially if she was in that much trouble?

Pausing, I leaned back around the corner looking down the hallway towards the guest bathroom. A man was leaving the bathroom while an older women entered. The girl was gone. It was as if she had vanished. Now were my eyes playing tricks on me too? Or was it something else?

She couldn’t have just vanished. It had to be a trick. Then everything clicked. The girl the news cast, the bathroom episode, Brittany’s lame excuse about Bethany consenting to being spanked. They were all in on it and trying to prank me. Well I would show them!

I continued downstairs, back into the core of the party. Everyone else were drinking, dancing and having a generally good time. Music filled the voids between the costume bodies.

Dancing though was the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. I was determined to figure out what was going on before they completed the prank. Then I could through a monkey wrench and screw everything up. Adam just better not be involved. He knows how much I hate pranks.

None of the obvious culprits seemed to be on the main floor, so they had to be hiding in the basement.

I contemplated playing dumb as I walked down the steep steps into he basement recreation room. I’d play dumb and see what information they leaked. “Yea,” I mumbled to myself, pausing to let a young woman dressed as Little Bo Peep pass. In my contemplations I only had a brief glance at the woman’s face, but a glance was my mind needed to careen down a new path. She was familiar, but I couldn’t place her name. It took a second and I realized she was the young woman from the Halloween store. If she was here, she was probably part of the prank also.

“Hey,” I called out turning to catch her. She stopped just short of the door, a good six feet higher than my current step. My eyes naturally raised up her legs, towards her head, but stopped dead at her bottom.

The costume was a standard over-sexualized version of the storybook character, complete with a low cut blouse on the top and extra short skirt on the bottom. The flare of her petticoats, and my low vantage point, provided me a sight straight up the back of her dress, to the underlying white nylon panties. Her panties do not hold my attention like the two crimson globes sticking out of the undergarment.

Ms. Bo Peep turned around and blushed, instantly recognizing me. “Oh, hi.”

Now that I had stopped her I had no idea where to take the conversation. I wanted information about what ever prank they were pulling, but I couldn’t just come out and ask about it, so I went for the next best thing. “You were in the Halloween store this morning,” I accused while climbing a up towards her.

“Yea,” she mumbled, twisting her patent leather clad right foot in the carpeting. “You saw, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. Who was that woman with you? Your mother?”

“Yea..” she mumbled, still avoiding eye contact.

“I just can’t believe she would spank you at your age, or that you would allow it!”

“Well, I did deserve it,” she admitted, looking up, towards my face.

“What? Your a grown woman. You don’t deserve to be spanked like a kid.”

“Sometimes I do. I don’t like it but its ok.”

“It’s OK? Your as bad as the rest of them. Retrying to convince me spanking an adult is fine.”

“Who are you talking about?” she asked with biggest fake puzzled look I had ever seen.

“You know, Brittany, Bethany, Jake, all of them. Brittany told me everything earlier. She said..”

“Bethany is spanked too!” She cut me off, covering her mouth in shock. This time it looked considerably more real than the last expression. “Wow, I didn’t know,” she said behind her hand.

“You didn’t know?”

“No….” she said.

“Then you aren’t in on the prank?”

“What prank?”

“Oh…” Now I was thoroughly confused. If she wasn’t in on the prank, why would she show me her spanked bottom, twice? “Then why were you half-naked in the dressing room?”

“Ah…because mom had just spanked me for wanting that silly leopard costume. I had been a brat towards her all morning and the fit I threw about the costume was the last straw. Sometimes it’s the only way I listen to reason. It really wasn’t that bad, more embarrassing because you heard me get it than painful.”

“But your bottom, it’s still an angry red.”

“Oh, yea…” She started blushing deeply again. “That was for this month’s credit card bill.”

I stared at her, waiting for more details.

“I’m still in college, Bethany and I are actually in the same Master’s program, so I live with my parents and they help financially while I finish my schooling. When Dad found out I maxed out my credit card eating out, he hit the roof. And his belt on my bottom.”

This time I covered my mouth in shock. “Ouch!” I mumbled.

“Yea, ouch big time. But it’s better than destroying the good relationship I have with my parents.”

“I guess. But then why are you here?” The obvious question to anyone recently punished.

“Bethany had asked me to help her with the catering, so it was fine with my parents. Normally I’d be grounded for rest of the day, but work takes precedent to punishments.” she smiled halfheartedly.

“Catering! That’s why the other girl was here!” I said realizing why the girl from TV would be at the party also. She must work for Bethany’s little catering business. “Well thank you for the information, and sorry about being spanked. I promise I won’t tell anyone, but I need to go find my husband.”

“Thanks,” she said, eager to leave our conversation.

Everything was starting to make sense. Brittany was using Bethany’s employees to trick me into getting spanked. I bet the next phase of their plan was to occur in the basement. Probably some trap to get me ‘into trouble’ and provide a reason. Well I’ll show them. They can’t spring their trap if I’m not here. I’ll grab Adam and we’ll head home. I’ll probably have to promise sex though. Ah, so what, it was worth avoiding the humiliation.

Just like Bo-Peep had said, half a dozen guys were standing around the pool table, drinking beers. Adam saw me as soon as I entered the room and with a wag of the finger, he came straight over to me.

“Honey, come on, I want to go home!” I made my best big puppy-dog eyes at him. They normally worked when I wanted something.

“Hu? why, it’s early.” Adam turned to look at the guys, who were making some kind of ruckus.

“Please?”

“Ah, honey,” He tossed back the last of his beer. “In a little bit.”

“But I want to go NOW!,” I whined.

“Well, once I finish this game. Rick and I are tied two-games a piece with Jake and Greg. We only got one more ball to win.”

“Jake?”

“Yea, Bethany’s fiance. The guy there in the batman costume. The four of us have been down here playing since we arrived.”

“The whole time?” I asked. Had they really lured Adam into their plot?

“Yea, why?” Adam asked, clearly confused. He was horrible at lying to me, and tonight, being well plied with alcohol was no exception.

“Hey, Adam, it’s your shot!” Rick called out before I could come up with some answer.

“Don’t worry, it’ll just take me a minute to win and then we can go.” Adam kissed me on the forehead and returned to the pool table.

Was this the trap? What was going to happen? I fidgeted the whole minute and a half it took Adam to sink the winning shot. They were here somewhere and I wanted to escape before whatever happened.

We just about made it out the door when we ran into Brittany and Bethany coming down from upstairs.

“You guys leaving?” Brittany asked.

“Yea, we are heading out.” Adam said, as nonchalantly as he could.

“Well I hope you liked the party.”

“It was a great party.” Adam complemented. “You out do yourselves every year.”

“Yea, great party,” I told Brittany, then added for Bethany, “You did a great job catering. Your employees were also really nice.” I leaned close to whisper, “And I won’t say anything about what I saw earlier.”

“Say anything? Employees? What are you talking about?” Bethany responded.

“You know, the football player and Bo-Peep?”

“Who? All my staff are at different parties. I’m here by myself tonight.”

“Oh, I must’ve been mistaken.”

We said our goodbyes and were off into the cool night air. The way Adam walked, something seemed to be bothering him.

“Why was it so important we leave early?” Adam asked

“Oh nothing,” I mumbled. “I just wanted to go.”

“It was quite rude though,” Adam let his annoyance with me come through in his tone.

“Sorry,” I apologized. He was right. He was always right when it came to us. It was one of those things I loved to hate about him. He always thought first, and acted second. Every argument we ever had as a couple was my stubbornness versus his, his, his correctness?

Nothing else was said until we safely home and in our bedroom. The whole walk my emotions were eating me up inside. How I had been a complete bitch to him ever since he mentioned the Halloween party 2 weeks ago. The complaining about the costume, and then getting us to leave early. His favorite holiday, and I had completely ruined it.

I’m such a bad wife.

Five words that went around and around in my head as I climbed the steps to our bedroom. Each word stabbing itself into my heart, the exorcise the pound of flesh it was rightfully owed. Twenty three steps and five words were all it took to make me feel worst than I had ever felt in my life.

I had to get rid of the pain, and now. But how?

One answer instantly filled my mind, barring everything else. It was extreme, but it would work. Wouldn’t it?

“Can we talk?” I ask Adam hesitantly once we were in the bedroom.

“What’s wrong now?” Adam sighed as he tossed his cape, wig and beard onto my makeup stand chair. He had already ditched the hat to the same chair, leaving him just dressed in the long white robe.

“Sit down please,” I asked, gesturing towards the bed. I bit my lower lip as he followed my instructions, sitting on the edge of the bed directly in front of me. Should I really do this? Could I do it?

“Yes?” he asked. I felt so small and he looked so large and regal in that flowing white robe. Wise and all knowing, like a King or a Bishop. Oddly, that put me slightly at ease.

I blinked once and just let my emotions flow. “I had a long talk with Brittany and Bethany tonight and I want to apologize for my bitchiness over the last week.” I looked at his lap the whole time. Maybe Bethany didn’t get spanked tonight, but the discussion with Brittany surely happened.

“Week?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine, the past month,” I mumbled. “They. hmmmmm, they enlightened me to a better way for us to deal with our disagreements, and hmmm, and I think we should start using their model.”

“Ah OK.”

I couldn’t think of anyway to say what I wanted to say. It was like my entire vocabulary had been reduced to that of a kindergartener. “I need spanking” was all I could think of but it sounded so wrong, and childish.

“Honey?” Adam asked.

“I, hmmm, I, hmmmm.” Still unable to articulate my thoughts, I simply went for the action route. Actions are supposed to speak volumes.

I took a half a step to my left, then turned and laid myself over Adam’s outstretched knees. At that moment I realized how awkward and uncomfortable it is to lay over someone’s lap. I kept teetering between having my hands, or my feet flat on the floor, never both.

“Ah,” I could hear him stuttered. What was he waiting for? Isn’t he just supposed to start swatting my bottom?

“Aren’t you going to spank me?” I asked quietly. Hadn’t Rick ever told him about he and Brittany?

“What?” Adam asked.

“You can spank me,” I said again, this time a bit louder.

“What do you mean, spank you?”

“Like Rick does to Brittany or Jake to Bethany.” Doesn’t he know how embarrassing this is for me.

“What are you talking about?”

Did he really not know? How could he not know? Rick and him are best friend. “Rick spanks Brittany when she is naughty, like I have been towards you.” I could hear him gasp at that revelation. He really didn’t know about their arrangement.

I started to push myself up, off his lap when a hand gently pushed my shoulders back down.

“Hold on there a moment. Help me understand this, Brittany is spanked when she is naughty and now you are jealous?”

“No, I’m not jealous. I…I just want us to be happier, like them.”

“And you think spanking is the key to happiness?”

“No,” I immediately responded, though it felt awful wrong to lie at this moment. “Well….partially. Maybe it is what we are missing.”

“OK, then we will put this to rest right now.” I wish I would have caught the annoyance in his voice, but my stubbornness had become focused on achieving the goal of a spanking. I know, a crazy goal, but can be stubborn to a fault.

The first swat didn’t seem too bad. A light tingling sensation, really. The next few slowly increased to a slight sting, but were far from unbearable.

Maybe it was my lack of response, or Adam was starting to get into it, but the spanks became harder and harder until a strong one surprised a yelp out of me.

Adam paused for a moment, most likely to see if I would complain. I wanted to say it was too hard, but for some reason the harder spank had felt better than the tentative ones. More emotionally freeing than those gentle pats.

The spanks began to rain down again, this time with my unspoken consent, Adam was putting some force behind his hand. Force that I am sure he knew I was feeling. Each spank imparted a crisp sting to my skin, cause me to yelp with most every one.

Soon, I could feel the fire he was building on my bottom. Individual stingy spanks had blended together into a constant fire, much like how my yelps blended into a low continuous sob.

All the emotions I felt over the past day, week, month came flooding back. The snarky comments. The thoughtless actions. The blatant bitchiness. Everything was there, and everything was getting burnt away by the fire Adam was creating. I could have swore my cries of distress where just fueling Adam’s arm, fore every swat seemed stronger, and harder, yet more freeing than the previous.

I plead for forgiveness and the swats kept coming. I promised to be good, and the fire kept building. I begged him to stop, and the flow of tears increased.

At some point all the negative emotions that had been building inside me had flowed out through my tears along with all the energy I had to resist that spanking. And then it was over.

Adam eased me up and wrapped me in his arms while I buried my face into his chest. He felt so warm, not like the hot sun that my bottom currently feels, but like a cozy cabin on a cold winter day. Everything beyond his embrace is just an icy abyss. Within, was his caring, his thoughtfulness, his compassion, all that makes up his love for me. It was so warm and peaceful. Everything was alright.

I do not remember falling asleep, just waking up the next day, still holding my man, though carefully tucked below our covers. The room felt oddly cool at moment, but Adam was nice and warm. I never wanted to let him go. He was mine, and I would be his, forever and ever.

It was nearly noon before we made it out of the bedroom. It felt a little late for breakfast, but we were both hungry. I went for a yogurt cup while Adam went straight for the remaining pumpkin pie. Normally I would chide him for such an unhealthy choice, but this morning it seemed petty of me.

The expression Adam made after his first bite was priceless. It was some crazy mixture of him eating a lemon and bitters. I couldn’t help but laugh at the clearly unpleasant taste.

“Ewe. What did you put in this?”

“Just the normal stuff, pumpkin, spice, cinnamon, condensed milk, nutmeg, eggs.”

“Did you forget the sugar?”

“Hhmmm…” Shit I forgot the sugar. Flipping the yogurt covered spoon over in my mouth, I slowly licked it cleaned while I thought of a response. My normally sharp wit fled my mind like it was on fire. “Nooo, but….”

“But you weren’t thinking or you intentionally sabotaged the pies?” Adam paused for a moment. “Either way, we should deal with this naughtiness right away. The wooden spoon seems appropriate.”

Wooden Spoon!? Where did he get that idea from? I never said anything about a wooden spoon.

Three Ghosts of Halloween, Part II

The errands took way too long. Two simple errands should have taken only twenty minutes, but two hours later I was walking into the French Cafe straight in the middle of the lunchtime crowd. Waiting 10 minutes did not increase the prospect of securing a table so I just gave up and went home. I would have to resort to eating the leftovers from dinner last night.

As I neared the entrance to our subdivision, two police cruisers and a large blank van flew by with lights and sirens ablaze. Something big was happening to have the SWAT van going. The first thing I did when I got home is to flip on the small TV in the kitchen. Hopefully the news would have a live report on the hostage situation or standoff.

The 12 o’clock news was already in progress, thought the weather forecast was being provided at the moment. I had a moment to toss Adam’s leftover chicken Parmesan in the microwave. He probably wouldn’t care.

“Now, for some breaking news at the courthouse. Allison,” the news anchor said. The words “breaking news” instantly perked my interest.

“I’m here at the courthouse where I just learned the charges against all three ringleaders in last week’s homecoming party fiasco.” The reporter told the audience. “As you will remember, I reported last week about police breaking up a wild party where nearly the entire Jefferson High senior class were detained for underage drinking and trespassing. It appears the farm’s owner and the prosecutor agreed with the parents of the three girls that the two eighteen year olds and the one nineteen year old had been adequately punished and no further action was needed. The judge agreed only after a conference with the girl’s parents, and attorney’s in closed chambers. Here comes one of the fathers right now. Mr. Williams, how do you feel about the judge’s decision that allow your punishment to stand?”

“Her mother and I had a long discussion with our daughter and taught her a tough lesson in responsibility. Luckily the judge and prosecutor agreed that she was contrite and they dropped the charges on my promise of reinforcing that lesson tonight. And I damn well intend to.” The larger, gruff man told the reporter.

“Well good for you. I learned a few painful lessons from my father when I was a young adult and I hope it helps your daughter like it helped me. Janice, back to you in the studio.” The reporter told the news anchor.

“Thank you Allison. It is good to hear that some parents still want to parent and not be their child’s friend. My mother wouldn’t have cared had I been 8, 18 or 28. We probably would have had a similar discussion as those defendants. Too bad more parents don’t think that way anymore. Now on to sports. Jeff.” The pretty blonde anchor told the audience.

I changed the channel once I heard something about the world series. I don’t understand why or how Adam can spend hours watching sports. Maybe another channel would have the story about the police incident.

Ding! Lunch was ready. I grabbed a potholder and scooped up the cardboard container from the microwave. Hmmm, cheesy goodness.

“Now, for some breaking news at the courthouse. Allison,” I heard a female news anchor say behind me. With a fork in hand, I settled back on the counter stool to eat while watching the news.

“I’m here at the courthouse where I just learned the charges against all three ringleaders in last week’s homecoming party fiasco.” The reporter told the audience. She looked really similar to the reporter at the other station. Blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs and a bright smile seems to be the only qualification needed to be a reporter anymore.

“As you will remember, I reported last week about police breaking up a wild party where nearly the entire Jefferson High senior class were detained for underage drinking and trespassing. It appears the farm’s owner and the prosecutor agreed with the parents of the three girls that the two eighteen year olds and the one nineteen year old had been adequately punished and no further action was needed. The judge agreed only after a conference with the girl’s parents, and attorney’s in closed chambers.”

This seems eerily familiar to the previous report. Even that guy coming up behind her looks familiar.

“Here comes one of the fathers right now. Mr. Williams, how do you feel about the judge’s decision that allow your punishment to stand?” The reporter asked.

“Her mother and I had a long discussion with our daughter and taught her a tough lesson in responsibility.” The large, gruff man stated.

That was exactly what he said last time. Is this the same channel? I pressed the info button on the remote, popping up the channel information onto the screen to confirm I had indeed changed the channel.

“Luckily the judge and prosecutor agreed that she was contrite and they dropped the charges on my promise of reinforcing that lesson tonight. And I damn well intend to.” The father stated.

What the hell? I just watched this report a few minutes ago. Have the local news really gotten that cheap that they are sharing staff? Or is someone trying to play a prank on everyone?

“Well good for you. I learned a few painful lessons from my father when I was a young adult and I hope it helps your daughter like it helped me. Janice, back to you in the studio.” The reporter told the news anchor.

Painful lessons? Is she trying to imply that poor girl was spanked for throwing a party? What brute! And the judge and prosecutor agreed with it? They are supposed to protect the innocent, not help them be victimized. They are just teenagers and they did something dumb. What is new? They don’t have to be beaten for it.

“Thank you Allison. It is good to hear that some parents still want to parent and not be their child’s friend. My mother wouldn’t have cared had I been 8, 18 or 28. We probably would have had a similar discussion as those defendants. Too bad more parents don’t think that way anymore. Now on to sports. Jeff.” The anchor told the audience.

And now the news anchor is supporting it also. Grounding her for a month would have worked just fine. I was never spanked and I turned out fine. Dumb right-wing bible thumping conservatives. Won’t they ever learn. Doubt they will ever learn.

Finishing lunch, I figured I might as well start the pumpkin pie. It’ll take a hour or something to cook and Adam had to have his pumpkin pie or he’d throw a hissy-fit. He can be such a frigging baby sometimes.

I grabbed the canned pumpkin, pumpkin spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, evaporated milk and eggs and started mixing everything in a big bowl. The orange gooey mixture filled two pre-made pie crusts; one for the party and one for Adam. I bet I can use the second one for leverage until Thanksgiving. Oven set at 375F, now I got an hour to relax.

Consequences for the spoiled brats

This story begins with Just Your Everyday Spoiled Brat Party. I recommend you read it first.

Becky had yet to leave her room since she got home from the police station. She didn’t really want to face her father, nor did she really fell like walking much. There was also the grounding issue. The housekeeper had delivered her meals and with her in-suite bathroom, she didn’t need to leave. She just laid on her stomach and watched TV all day, plotting her revenge on Gwen. Gossip Girl and One Tree Hill was providing her some spectacular inspiration.

Monday arrived and so did the anticipation of her mother’s arrival. She had only had a very brief conversation with her Mom on Sunday, which ended with that awful phrase “we will discuss this when I get home!” Becky knew full-well that the discussion would be one sided, with her doing very little of the talking.

“Ms. Rebecca, your father left this note for you.” their housekeeper told Becky when she brought up her breakfast.

“Thank you, Maria.” Becky said, taking the note and egg-white omelet. She closed the door then sat the tray on her desk before picking up the note. It was probably some more punishment or something, she thought.

“Becky, I have some errands for you to run for my office. You are to go straight to city hall and straight home when you get done. NO WHERE ELSE. Your keys are on the kitchen counter. Call me from the house phone when you get home. I’m going to pick up Mom from the airport and we’ll be home around 8 ~Dad.”

It could have been worst, she thought. At least she gets to leave the house, even if it is to go play page-girl. Normally, she would have preferred the law firm to city hall, so she could flirt with the cute associates, but today was not a flirty day. Today felt more like a pouting, sulky type of day. Sulking around the city hall didn’t sound like much fun though. She would have rather went to the beach, the mall or even the gym than city hall.

Becky plopped down onto her desk chair and instantly remembered why the beach would be a bad idea. Her bottom still ached and probably looked worst than it felt. Not a good combination with a string bikini. No matter, she would not be going anywhere she wanted to until college started next week. Maybe….

Becky reread the note twice more before the loophole hit her. Dad had required her to call when she got home so he’d know she went straight home, but he didn’t say anything about calling before she left. A quick glance at her alarm clock and a few simple estimates for traffic, getting ready and such told her that she would might have an extra hour, if she was quick. An hour at the mall was risky, and the good one wasn’t on the way to city hall. The gym, on the other hand was on the way, and she could get in a nice workout in an hour.

Becky scarfed down the omelet before stuffing a dressier outfit in her duffel bag and changing into yoga pants and a t-shirt. A light windbreaker and she was off. She referred to it as a gym, but The Club, as her parents and fellow members referred to it, was far from an ordinary gym. It really a private club with dinning rooms, a bar, and meeting rooms in addition to the standard gym and spa facilities.

An uptempo Becky rounded the privacy corner to find the locker room quite empty. It was 10 o’clock on a Monday morning, so it wasn’t too surprising to find the gym sparsely populated. She started to make her way down the rows of lockers when another woman crossed from the bathroom area into the locker alcoves.

It took Becky a moment to recognize the brunette. “Really?” she thought. “That bitch is at MY gym!” She took off in a huff to confront the cause of so much pain this weekend. She turned into the locker set where the girl had disappeared and stopped dead in her tracks. It was obvious that Becky had not been seen as the girl was bending over, fishing something out of the bottom of her locker, completely oblivious to her watcher. Becky let her jaw drop as she took in the sight before her.

The girl was wearing only bikini panties and a sports bra. In her current, inverted position, the panties had rode up into a slight wedgie, exposing the lower half of her cheeks. The lower half of her cheeks was had shocked Becky. Against the light pinkish brown background, a black and blue bruise marred the center of each cheek.

Becky let out a slight gasp. The girl had not heard Becky enter the locker room, and was consequently startled by the sound behind her. The brunette straightened up and turned around to come face-to-face with her rival. Upon seeing Becky, Gwen’s mood soured considerably.

“What?!” Gwen snapped. “Say whatever you are going to. I’m in no mood for your bitchiness right now.”

“I…ah…didn’t think..” Becky felt herself for a lost of words, a rare occurrence when dealing with people her own age. All the hatred she had for this girl seemed to disappear in a moment, and she didn’t understand why.

“Whatever, go tell all your friends that poor little Gwen is still spanked.” Gwen spewed her resentment at Becky finding out her secret.

“I..ah.. I didn’t think you still got it. I know back then, but now?” Becky said.

“Whatever,” Gwen dismissed turning back to her locker and the task of getting dressed. She wanted out of here and Becky’s sight as soon as possible.

“Gwen,” Becky placed a hand on her shoulder, turning the brunette around. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise.”

“Sure you won’t.”

“I won’t, because I know what it’s like.”

“Yea, yea, I remember that incident with my Mom’s car. But this isn’t the same. You don’t understand.”

Becky pursed her lips for a moment. This had most definitely not been part of her planned revenge on Gwen. Maybe she wasn’t all evil. They had been friends once. Fine she would show Gwen how she understood.

“Look,” Becky set down her bag then turned to her left side. Hooking her right thumb under the waistbands of her yoga pants and panties, she pulled the both down, revealing her right cheek. Raised maroon and purple welts still decorated her bottom.

“Oh, my god!” Gwen gasped at the sight. Gwen had long-ago thought she was the only girl in Malibu still spanked by her parents.

“See, I know what’s it like.”

“I didn’t think anyone still got it.” Gwen responded, still starring.

“Me neither. But you look to got it worst than me.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Its a standard paddling response, yours though. Ouch.” Gwen commented, running her finger along one of the purple ridges.

“Ouch.” Becky jumped, letting her panties and pants snap back into place.

“Sorry. What made those welts?”

“Dad’s belt.”

Gwen cringed at the thought of a leather belt searing into her bottom. Her mother’s little paddle was painful, but the belt was a whole different level she never wanted to reach. “I bet your dad was pissed. I saw him enter the police station as I left.”

“Pissed would have been better. He gave me the silent treatment the whole way home, then lit into me at home. The belt was only the start of my punishment. I’m grounded and stuff too. Mom has refused to talk about it until she gets home tonight.”

Gwen offered a sympathetic frown. “At least you were clothed. The cops caught me in the pool and provided an orange jumpsuit. Mom made me take it off and my panties before going to town with that damn paddle.”

“She still uses that same paddle she used on us?” Becky asked.

“No, that one broke shortly afterwards. She replaced it with this oak one that looks like a small sorority paddle.”

“Yikes!”

“Yup. ‘Panties down, over my lap and apply soundly until she no longer kicks and screams,’ is my Mom’s motto.” Gwen recited.

“Mom is the same way. Tonight will be hell.” Becky said, as she eased herself onto the bench.

“You got another one coming also?” Gwen asked.

“Probably, Mom said we’d have a ‘discussion’ when she got home.”

“Ah.”

“Why? are you getting another one?” Becky asked,

“If I am lucky.” Gwen remarked, drawing a puzzled look from Becky. “I’m to get one every Friday and Sunday night until my community service is complete.”

“Community service?”

“Yea, I should thank you for that, actually your dad and Melanie’s. Everyone caught at the party got 100 hrs of community service in exchange for all charges being dropped. Your Dad didn’t tell you?” Gwen informed Becky.

“No….”

“Yea, they couldn’t be seen favoring their kids. Better than going to court. I’m starting my community service this afternoon to limit my dates with that blasted paddle.” Gwen didn’t mention the hour of naked corner-time that went along with her paddlings. Normal corner-time was humiliating enough, but since she had been caught in such an immodest state, her mother felt it appropriate to associate immodestly with her punishment.

“I guess community service is better than court.” Becky shrugged.

“It is surely better than a spanking.” Gwen smirked, drawing a smile from Becky.

Just Your Everyday Spoiled Brat Party

Boom! Boom! Boom! The over-sized speakers pumped the beat through the crowd. The song and lyrics didn’t matter, right now was just about the beat. A good, solid beat was at the core of any good party. Without a good beat, there was no dancing and without dancing, getting the attention of the hotty across the room was hard. Everyone at the party wanted attention, preferably from a sexy vixen like Becky.

Boom Boom Boom! Becky could feel the bass generating the spirit guiding her hips. Eyes closed and hands keeping her chestnut locks in the air, she was the image of sensuality.

“Becks! Everyone’s going in the pool!” Kim yelled into her friend’s ear before pulling her towards the deck.

Becky hadn’t realized how hot she had gotten dancing and felt she could use a break to cool off. She stumbled behind her friend as they weaved through crowd. The Patron shots were making her feel real good.

The cool water looked to refreshing to Becky, she knew she just had to get in. She pulled the tank-top over her head before shimming off her shorts to reveal her make-shift bathing suit. The dark-blue lace bra and panty set attracted some hollers from the nearby guys, making Becky feel good about herself. She put a finger to her lips as she looked over her shoulder at a couple of the louder guys. A shy smile and she was feeling sexier than when she had been grinding in the mosh pit. She couldn’t blame them for wanting her, she knew she was drop dead gorgeous. High firm breast accentuated her flat tummy while her long tanned legs lead straight up to her full, and perk booty. She was a fuckin’ goddess, she thought as she took the three steps to the edge of the pool.

She was just about ready to gracefully slip into the water when saw Freddie in the middle of the pool. He is the son of some English lord, built like a GQ model and the target of Becky’s attention all summer long.

“Tonight he would be mine!” she thought as she flashed him her legendary bedroom eyes. No one had resisted them and Freddie would just be their next victim.

He smiled back when cat-calls from across the pool pulled Freddie’s attention away. Annoyed, Becky glance in the direction of the commotion to see Gwen standing at the edge of the pool. “That bitch!” Becky thought as she watched Gwen toss her bra aside then pop her hips from side to side as she made her way down the pool ladder.

Gwen and Becky had been rivals since freshman year of High School. Gwen had just moved from New York City and no problem fitting in among social elites of Malibu. Becky accepted Gwen into her clique and welcomed her. Gwen wasn’t as pretty, as wealthy or as smart as Becky, so Becky saw a new friend, not a rival. They became instant BFFs, until homecoming when Becky walked in on Gwen servicing the star middle linebacker, and Becky’s boyfriend, at half-time. One blowjob had created an epic six year rivalry. Becky had tried to play the slut card on Gwen, but a rumor about being a slut coupled with her innocent, girl-next door looks just attracted more attention from the guys.

Becky was not one to be outdone, and tonight was her night to rule. “I can do topless,” she thought to herself. Two fingers and her bra was flying towards a lounge chair. Her bravado earned her more catcalls and more general attention than her rival. She ate up the attention, even though it came from such an immoral reason, before she slipped into the water.

“Hey Freddie,” Becky said, taking hold of his right hand underwater and planting squarely on her bare breast.

Gwen saw his hand grasp the brunette’s breast in the blue mood lighting of the pool. She could do better than a little second base action.

Gwen whispered into Freddie’s left ear, instantly garnering his attention away from Becky. Gwen took a deep breath before slipping below the surface. In an instant she had his boxers down and engulfed him. Bubbles escaped her lips as she attempted her first underwater blowjob.

Becky didn’t realize want Gwen was doing until the mood lighting cycled back on, casting a red shadow over the exhibitionistic coupling. The initial shock of such a brazen act quickly gave way to pure anger. Becky took hold of the back of the girl’s head and shoved it downwards, forcing the hard shaft deep into her throat.

The unexpected invasion, mixed with her already hypoxic state, panicked Gwen. The gut shove sent Freddie sprawling backwards, off his feet and under the water. A moment later Gwen surfaced, gasping for air.

“Take a little too much?” Becky ridiculed. “He’s too much of a man for a little girl like you?” Gwen spurted a few more times.

“COPS! RUN!” a guy yelled running out of the house. Seconds later the entire yard erupted into anarchy. Police swarmed from the back gate and around the side of the house, cutting off all the exits to the walled compound. Underage teenagers were ditching beer filled cups while scurrying for any possible exit through the darkness. The party-goers had only a minute of semi-darkness before an officer found the switch to the security lights.

Becky’s tequila haze parted in an instant. Avoiding the police was her second highest priority; first she had to find her clothes. The only thing worst than being caught by the police at a party like this would be caught half-naked. She half-swam, half-wadded straight to the edge of the pool where she had entered. The security flood lights provided her more than enough light to see the lounge chairs where she had tossed her top clothes a mere fifteen minutes earlier. Poking her head over the edge, she quickly scanned the pool deck. Her bra and shorts were no where in sight, but she spotted her top only five yards away.

Coverage was only five yards away. Only fifteen feet. Only one hundred eighty inches. She only had to get past three cops and six drunks standing in her path.

“Come On! Out of the pool!” a darkly dressed man yelled at Becky from the deck.

“Oh fuck” she mumbled as a large hand reached down for her shoulder.

The next two hours were an agonizing slow whirlwind of events for Becky. The officer who caught her didn’t realize her state of undress until her wrists were firmly secured behind her back with a zip-tie. Having her arms pulled back, increased the prominence of her breasts. The male officer then then set her down next to her shirt while he found a female officer to assist in redressing the girl. Her shorts and bra couldn’t be quickly found so her top was just quickly pulled over her head and arms. Then into the back of a squad car with three other girls and off to station where she was booked, photographed and sent to a holding cell primarily full of half drunk girls from the party.

Becky was just starting to become sober when an officer called out her name. She had been bailed out and was to be released into her parents custody. Her father’s custody actually, since her mom was in New York for the week.

Her father didn’t say a word to her when Becky rounded the corner and told to wait a minute behind the counter. He didn’t need to say anything, his expression told her everything she needed to know. He was utterly disappointed, angry and hurt by his little girl all at the same time. It was the one look that always made her feel plain naughty. Like she was a bad girl, not a grown woman looking forward to her senior year of college.

“I’m sorry” Becky mumbled, staring downwards to avoid his glare.

“Everything is in order. She is released into your custody. Someone from the district attorney’s office will be in touch about any charges. Have a good night.” The desk sergeant told her father before pressing a button and releasing the half-door dividing Becky’s location from the lobby.

Becky looked up just long enough to see her father shake his head then turn for the door. She quickly made to follow him to the waiting car.

Becky was surprised to see her mother’s Land Rover in the parking lot. Her dad hated driving it, but she had taken his Mercedes to the party. Well, he had allowed her to take it to Kim’s, and it was now parked three blocks away from the party’s location. Hopefully it was still parked there, she thought.

Sixteen silent minutes later, Ivan pulled the SUV into their garage. Becky had not dared to speak out of fear of angering her father more. She had just stared at her lap, thinking about how foolish she had been. That tonight’s events might have permanently ruined her future. Her plans of going to law school and becoming a federal judge. All of it would be gone with her arrest record. Georgetown law wouldn’t accept a felon. She’d be lucky if she John Marshall accepted her now. Everything ruined over a dumb little party.

Her father getting out of the SUV broke her from the speculations. Becky’s attention refocused upon her nakedness and the enviable trip she would have to make past her father on the way to her room. For some reason her current tank-top and bikini panties felt considerably more revealing than even the string bikini’s she had worn this summer. The swimsuits had covered considerably less, so why did she feel so embarrassed right now?

She waited until he exited the garage before slipping out of the car and scampering, barefooted, over to the door. Peaking into the kitchen, she didn’t see anyone. “Hopefully everyone’s asleep” she mumbled as she tip toed onto the tiled floor. She had made to the back stairs when a gruff voice stopped her dead.

“You better be going straight to your room because we will be talking about tonight,” Ivan barked from behind her.

“Yes daddy,” she muttered before taking the slow walk up to her room, pouting the entire trip. She closed the door behind her though paid special attention not to lock it as was her habit. Waiting would make Daddy more upset. She sulked over to her bed. Sitting down, he realized she might as well put on some pjs while she waited. At least she wouldn’t be half naked while getting yelled at.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Ivan yelled as he barged into his daughter’s room. Becky dropped the pjs back into the drawer and turned to face her father for the tongue lashing she was sure to receive.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” was all Becky could say as Ivan ripped into her for her irresponsible, indecent, and reckless behavior. The lecture seemed to last forever, as Becky stood before her father, starring at the floor and occasionally offering apology when prompted.

“I seriously do not believe you want to be a lawyer and think my money for your tuition is being wasted. Well, I’m not wasting any more. You can figure out how to pay for your own tuition.”

“No daddy! Not college. I won’t be able to finish!” Becky pleaded.

“You should have thought about the potential consequences before you got drunk and stripped half naked!”

“I’m soo sorry. Anything else. Ground me, take away my car, spank me, anything but don’t cut off my tuition,” Becky cried.

His daughter’s large puppy dog eyes always got to him. This time it was enough to soothe some of his anger and allow consider the situation more rationally. Cutting off her tuition was drastic and would send a major point, but would damage her long-term success, and he did not want her becoming one of those Paris Hilton-esque daughters. The country club had too many already. She had to be punished though, and her three suggestions sounded like a great starting point.

“Fine! We’ll start with all three! Get on your bed while I get my belt!” Ivan storm out of the room, trying to demonstrate more anger than he actually felt.

Ivan returned to find Becky in the prescribed position, with her bare bottom pointing towards the ceiling and exemplified by a pair of pillows under her hips.

“You are grounded until further notice, which includes using your car to go anywhere except work. This spanking and the grounding is only part of your punishment, until your mother and I have a chance to talk. Understand me?”

“Yes daddy,” Becky already was starting to cry.

“Good!”

Ivan brought the belt down across the crowns of his daughter’s bottom. The force of the leather set the blood temporarily fleeing from a the white band on her bottom. Its return marred her behind with an angry redness and the accompanying burning sensation.

Over and over, Becky felt the leather paint her bottom its evil color. She couldn’t do anything but hold on and let the tears flow. “This was all Gwen’s fault, and she would pay!” Becky thought as the leather tore up her bottom. Stroke after stroke rained down until both cheeks were a deep maroon with splotches of purple.

“I hope this imparts the seriousness of your actions.” Ivan stated as he took a deep breath. “Now get to sleep, sweetie.”

Becky cried into her pillow for half an hour before getting up to check out the damage. She used only her desk lamp to light the darkened room, worried that the room light would draw unwanted attention. Her bottom looked exactly like it felt, painful. She was red from her tailbone to the top of her thighs, with the darkest coloring in the center. Ouch! she thought making her way back to bed. Gwen would pay royally for this and she knew exactly how.