Do I need to pull this car over?

“Do I need to pull this car over?” A simple phrase that strikes fear in to kids everywhere. Well maybe not everywhere with all this political correctness, but it always struck fear into my sister and I. It was the ultimate threat during any long road trip. They never followed through on the threat, mainly because Sabrina nor I ever dared to test them.

This time was no difference. In two hours we’d be back at college, getting ready for the spring semester, so making Mom mad now would probably result in us skipping our normal trip to Sam’s to stock up on food and stuff. A girl’s got to eat, occasionally, and if the rents pay for it, the more money I have for fun. I decided just to crank up the volume on the movie to drown out that annoying game.

The backseat armistice didn’t make it a full hour. My movie ended so I shifted over to reading some for my lit class. Might as well try to get ahead, since there isn’t much to see outside. Just trees and the occasional farm as we rolled down the state highway.

“Can’t you play some other game?” I snipped at Sabrina after that repetitive music disrupted my reading for the 50th time.

“I told you earlier I have it all the way down.”

“Then play something else,” I shot back.

“Why should I?” Sabrina smirked. I think I saw her even turn the volume up on her iPad. It sure

“Oh stop being such as b…Witch,” I corrected myself just in time.

“Girls, enough now!” Mom chastised from the front seat.

Sabrina pursed her lips and glared at me. I silently mouthed back “bitch”. She mouthed “baby” I think.

I could feel my face getting a little flush as my temper quickly rose. I hated being called the baby, and Sabrina damn well knew it. Growing up as the youngest I was always referred to as the baby of the family and I hated it. I am almost 21 years old, not some fucking infant! My temper overwhelmed all sense of reason and I shoved the backpacks sitting between us at Sabrina.

“Owe, quit!” Sabrina cried out when the books in her backpack struck her funny bone. I gave her a fake smile, mocking her discomfort, which just got the backpacks shoved back into my lap.

“Hey!” I snapped as my open backpack ricochet off my leg and spilled across the floor.

“That is enough of this!” Mom barked from her driver’s seat. The next thing I realize is the sudden deceleration of the Suburban as mom hit the brakes. She pulled the car off the side of the road at the grass entrance to one of the fields on our right.

Sabrina and I looked at each other with equal parts fear and anger as Mom got out. What the hell had we gotten ourselves into?

Mom opened the rear hatch and started shuffling through the duffel bags. I tried to sneak a peak of what she was searching for but the third row of seats blocked my view. I wouldn’t have to wait long, because she closed the hatch and walked around towards my door.

“Both of you, get out here NOW!” Mom barked after opening my door.

Sabrina and I couldn’t help but plead in unison, “Moomm.”

Mom just shot us that ‘don’t you dare tempt me’ look. With a huff, I undid my seat belt and slid out onto the grass. Sabrina followed me once she climbed over the pile so stuff that had been separating us. Mom stood there with her hands on her hips glaring at us until Sabrina stood beside me.

“I’ve had enough of this bickering that has been going on between you two since Christmas break started. I don’t know what has gotten in to you to but I’m going to end it right down.” Sabrina and I both knew how she intended to end our bickering, but mom didn’t like to leave any doubt in her lectures. “With two whooped butts.”

“Com’on mom,” I pleaded while giving her the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

“You don’t have to do this we’re sorry,” Sabrina pleaded.

“Yea, really sorry.” A car flew by, reminding us how exposed we were on the side of the road.

“You will be,” Mom chided. How cliche, though true. “Now drop those jeans and put your hands on the running board.”

“What here?” I asked like I was surprised. Of course it was going to occur here, Mom never waited once she announced a whooping.

“Please mom!” Sabrina pleaded.

“Please,” I added for good measure. It just got another glare from Mom saying we’d pushed her way too far already.

I started fumbling with the top button on my jeans, wasting as much time as possible in the vain hope Mom would give in and let us get back in the truck.

All hope of a reprieve was quashed when Mom said, “fine, you can take your jeans all the way off.” This was extra bad. I stopped working at the top once the zipper was down and instead focused on taking off my sneakers. I knelt down, instead of bending over, and pulled one foot out then the other, stepping on the top of my shoes to prevent my socks from getting dirty. I glanced to my left to see Sabrina with her shoes already off and standing back up to shimmy off her jeans. I followed suit, wiggling my hips until my jeans fell to my ankles.

“Hmmm,” Mom cleared her throat. “Those things you call panties can go too.”

I hooked my fingers into the waist strip of my thong and slide it down to join my jeans before stepping out of both articles. On a dare, Sabrina and I only packed g-strings and thongs to bring home for winter break. Mom was very old fashion in the panty department and prohibited us from wearing anything skimpier than a simple bikini style. Wearing only outlawed underthings for three weeks was had been a rush.

I folded semi folded my pants before handing them to Mom. She just tossed both sets into the back seat then closed the back door. Sabrina and I shuffled our shoes over until we were facing the side of the SUV then bent forward until we held onto the chrome tube that acted like a running board. A light breeze swept across the field to tickle our intimates, reminding us of our exposed position. I shivered, sending my dark locks spewing over my head.

“You are old enough to know better than bicker like little kids!” Mom chided from behind us.

“Yes ma’am,” Sabrina and I said.

Mom whipped the hairbrush down onto Sabrina’s backside a couple of times before reaching over my sister and engaging me.

“Owe owe owe,” I cried out when the hairbrush bite into my flesh. Sabrina soon enough echoed my cries with her own when a second volley took her. Back and forth Mom would spank Sabrina then me 3 or 4 times, always making sure we both got the same punishment for the joint crime. Mom was funny about us getting into trouble together and had always spanked us side by side when we did.

“Oach I’m sorry,” I cried as the sting really started to take hold. I danced from foot to foot during my slight reprieve. The fussing just earned me the next volley at the tops of my thighs. “AAAAAHHHHEEEEEE,” I yelped at the fresh sting.

“EEEEIIIIEEEEEE” Sabrina echoed as Mom repeated for her.

I clenched my teeth in preparation for the next onslaught, and Mom didn’t let me down, peppering my sit-spots. I didn’t cry out, just forced more tears until my vision has completely blurred over. Mom scolded us on our childish behavior then started spanking away again.

I’m not sure how long we were bent over, but Mom made sure your butts were well whooped. When she finally stopped Sabrina and I were a crying mess, promising anything and everything to make it stop.

“Ok, girls, I want you to apologize to each other then you can get into the truck,” Mom told us. I shot upright and instantly grabbed for my bottom. I had to put out the roaring fire and rubbing while dancing in a circle seemed like a good method at the moment. Sabrina joined me dancing across the grass. Our hands only left our bottoms to wipe away the tears.

“Girls!” Mom’s voice rose a little to get our attention.

I was instantly pulled back to reality. My nakedness took precedent over by bottom. I ran to give Sabrina a big hug.

“Sorry, Savannah,” Sabrina apologized.

“Sorry, sis,” I told her. I felt safe and forgiven, yet a little awkward in her arms. The closeness of our embrace guaranteed the touching o four lower halves. Mom broke up our embrace when she joined in.

“You two are forgiven for all that bickering.” Mom cooed. After a moment, she let go of us and took a half step back. “But you are still in trouble for not obeying me, so instead of corner-time, you can spend the rest of the way to your apartment just like that, without any iPad or phone.”

We knew better than to argue. Mom still held that fearsome hairbrush and wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Now into the truck, you can sit ON your jeans.” Mom prompted her command with a firm swat to our tender bottoms.

“Ouch!” I yelped as I scampered after Sabrina. Her normally chocolate bottom had a dared maroon glow to it. I knew mine probably looked the same, and from the fire it was emitting, I knew it wasn’t going to be back to it’s smooth complexion for a couple of days.

The rest of the ride was full of painful bumps. You never realize the importance of a good suspension until sitting on denim with a well spanked bottom. Getting to school wasn’t much better, since Mom wouldn’t let us put our jeans on until we had ‘proper’ panties. Having not packed any, we had to go into our apartment sans jeans. Luckily Mom allowed us to put on our jackets, which covered came down to mid-thigh. Thank goodness for our trip to Chicago last Christmas, otherwise living in Georgia we would never had bought the longer pea coats.

Welcome to Josei no Kiritsu Spa and Dojo

Monica scanned the program packet quickly. There were a wide range of activities, from the relaxing hot mud baths to the active martial arts courses. She definitely was going to get a massage, or a couple. She’d never heard of this “Yawarakaku soko Massage”.

“Embrace your inner tenderness’s as this hour long massage works out your physical, psychological and emotional stresses.”

She had never heard of a massage working out my psychological and emotional stress, but it seemed much better than paying a therapist.

“I want to do this yawaraka soko massage,” Monica told the concierge.

“Oh, excellent choice.” The concierge commented, entering Monica’s request into the computer.

Monica flipped a few more pages, entering to the more active programs. For some reason the “Hot Jujutsu” program seemed interesting. It was open to all levels and she had always been interested in martial arts. She also thought it would be nice to know how to defend herself. New York City could get a little rough on a single woman.

“And this hot jujutsu,” she said looking further through the catalog. “Can I also add this Chokai Yoga?”

“Yes ma’am. You can sign up for five programs at a time.”

“Hmmm..” Monica contemplated what other two courses she wanted to sign up. Josei no Kiritsu Spa and Dojo was turning out to be everything her coworker Julie had said. The place was beautiful, especially wonderful view of the Cascades mountains from her room. Even the two and half hour ride from the Portland airport was luxurious. A week here was definitely worth a month’s salary.

—-

Monica awoke later than normal to the sun streaking across her room. The feather-top cover on the queen bed felt better than anything she had ever slept on and made getting out of bed all that much harder. A quick trip to the bathroom though was essential. On her way back she remembered what the concierge had said about breakfast being available downstairs or via room service. Room service sounded nice right now.

She picked up the TV remote and a few simple clicks later, breakfast was on its way. Next her focus shifted to the elixir of life. A K-cup coffee maker sat on the counter above the minibar next to a diverse selection of flavors. Wild Mountain Blueberry sounded like it would pair well with her garden crepes.

She contemplated a shower while she waited for breakfast while taking in the densely wooded valley sprawled out before her private patio. The knock at the door surprised her, though not as much as the bellhop with her breakfast already.

“Good morning Ms Van Dergess. Would you like breakfast at the table or on your patio this morning?” the bellhop asked, wheeling the small cart into her room.

“Ah, the patio would be great.” Monica took her coffee with her to fetch a few dollar tip while the bellhop setup the table setting. She tucked the

“Sorry ma’am, but the staff here is not allowed to take any gratuities.” The bellhop gently stated, waving off the tip.

“Oh, ok.” Monica said a little stunned. She tipped every servant in New York, it was the least she could do for them.

She enjoyed the spinach and tomato filled crepe while over pine forest. She found it relaxing to watch the sun slowly lower its curtain of light down the mountains and into the valley as it rose on the other side of the lodge.

Beep. Beep. Ran the phone with the reminder for Monica’s first program of the day. She started to put on her workout clothes when she remembered the resort’s prohibition of workout clothes in the main lobby. Well a nice sundress would work instead. She tossed the change of clothes into one of the resort duffel bags and made her way downstairs to the locker rooms.

The locker room had the standard country club feel to it. Hard wood lockers, soft carpeting and ultra plush chairs. Directly attached were shower facilities and a wet and dry sauna.

“Hmm, I’m supposed to have the same locker number as my room.” Monica mumbled to herself as she made her way into the locker sections. “205, 224, 304, there 307.” She put her thumb up to the scanner on the locker door, opening the locker. Monica was still amazed at the cutting edge technology everywhere in this place.

She changed from her sundress into cotton shorts and a tank-top. She was started to put on her tennis shoes when she realized she didn’t know how to get to the Dojos.

“Pardon me, but do you know where Hot Jujutsu is at?” Monica asked the only other person around her locker.

“Oh, Hot Jujutsu is though the door to the Dojos. This your first time here?” The Asian Lady answered Monica with a bright smile.

“Ah, yea, why?”

“Hot Jujutsu is done all natural. You’ll feel quite embarrassed going in there like that.”

“Hu? Your kidding me.”

“No, I’m actually going to the next class also. If you hurry, we can go together.”

The revelation shocked Monica. She hadn’t planned on walking around naked. She felt she had a good body, but there were still problem areas she’d rather not show off to strangers.

While Monica contemplated her next actions, the Asian Lady stripped off her top and bra. It wasn’t until a pair of naked women walked by the end of the row of lockers did Monica decide to play along. Anyways, no one here knew her back in New York and it might be fun.

Monica hurried to catch up, stripping away her bra and top in one motion. Watching out of the corner of her eye, she waited until the other lady was nude before lowering her shorts and panties together.

“Don’t worry about shoes either.” Monica was told as she started to sit down. She returned her tennis shoes to her locker and turned to face the Asian Lady.

“Come on, lets go.” Asian lady said closing her locker. Monica followed suit then took off behind her. “I’m Kaori.” she said, providing a hand without missing a step.

“I’m Monica, nice to meet you.”

Monica quickly became more comfortable with the whole nakedness when she entered the Dojo to find two dozen other women in the exact same outfit. The wall of floor to ceiling windows caused her some apprehension, however the dojo was located on the effective third floor and the windows appeared tinting likely preventing anyone from seeing in anyways.

The concierge’s comment last night about gym OUTFITs being prohibited in the main areas of the resort made more sense now. The hundred degree room temperature though made being naked much more comfortable.

Senei Hirsha entered the Dojo and immediately commanded everyone attention. The Hirsha may have been in her late sixties, though glided about with the ease and elegance of a twenty year old beauty queen.

“Good morning,” Hirsha spoke softly. “Please Seiza in straight line, advanced students on my right and novice on my left.”

Monica wasn’t quite sure what the instructor meant, but she knew she belonged on the left end. The more advanced students started sitting in a line from the windows, facing the sensei. Monica just followed suit, trying to sit in the odd kneeling position like rest of the students.

“Welcome to Hot Jujutsu. I am Sensei Hirsha. Today we will be working on take-downs.”

Hirsha said some stuff in Japanese which Monica didn’t understand, but just followed the lead of the other students. Most of it consisted of bowing this way or that and she did pick up that one particular bow was called Kowtow.

“Good, good. Practice time. Novice students,” Hirsha said, pointing towards Monica and the door. “Beginner students,” she said pointing at the center of the room. “Advanced students.” Hirsha told the advanced and beginner students a couple of things in Japanese before coming over to the novice students.

Hirsha showed Monica and the three other novice students two simple arm-bar take-downs, then asked them to practice the maneuver on each other. The four novices rotated fake punching or pinning each other until they felt they had mastered the simple maneuver.

“Ok, practice done, now spar time.” Hirsha told the three groups. “Seiza in a circle.”

Monica was a little concerned about sparring already, since she knew a total of 2 moves where rest of the students surely knew dozens of moves. Nonetheless, she lead the other novice students to the center of the room and quickly got down into a seiza. She may not know much yet, but she could at least show off the simple things she had learned.

Hirsha started with the novice students, acting as their partner for a structured sparring situation where the students demonstrated the two take-downs they had learned from the three basic attacks by Hirsha. Monica felt she did very good, especially since it was her first time. She successfully put Hirsha on the ground five of the six times, even if a few of the times were a little awkward.

Monica was quite impressed by the skill level of some of the beginner students. The advanced students definitely knew what they were doing, pinning each other after a considerable number of moves and counter moves by each student. Monica promised herself that she would be that good by next summer.

“Ok, class done, now cool-down time.” Hirsha said breaking into the circle of students. A couple students let out soft sighs, which Monica took to mean they would relax now. “Everyone Kowtow.”

The students knelt forward, pressing their foreheads to the floor. Hirsha said a couple more commands in Japanese which Monica didn’t recognize. She simply followed the lead of the other students through pushups, the upward dog yoga position and into the downward dog yoga position.

Sensei Hirsha paused the cool down at the downward dog position to leave the center of the circle and go off to Monica’s left where she couldn’t see the instructor. Monica closed her eyes and relaxed while she waited for the next command. She heard the sensei return, walking slowly around the outside of the circle this time.

“AHH!” Monica screamed when sting of the rattan biting into her bare bottom reached her brain. She had no warning, collapsing instantly onto the floor, grasping at her poor bottom.

“Back in position! You no good! You need discipline! Discipline mean cane!” Sensei Hirsha yelled at the blonde.

“What the hell!” Monica yelled back. She was not going to stay around here and get caned. That old lady was crazy to think she would allow herself to get canned! She was a grown woman!

Monica got a single foot planted before Sensei Hirsha used the cane to simultaneously knock her off her feet, and land another strike to her bottom, before the new student landed face down on the mats. “Now in position or you get more demerits!”

“No!” Monica cried out pushing her torso off the floor. The defiance was met with another taste of rattan, this time at the top of her thighs.

“AHHHHH!” Monica screamed out as the new intensity of pain shook her brain. “Stop!”

“You get in position?”

“No, but…” Monica sputter between a few sniffles.

Senei Hirsha sent the cane to work twice more before asking “You get in position now?”

“Sniff, yes, sniff I am!” Monica cried. She could would take the few strokes then go straight to the management.

“Good, good! In position and I come back!”

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The old sensei worked her way around the circle of students, delivering up to 12 slices of the cane to their upturned bottoms, depending on their sparring performances. Most of the women took their discipline well, vocalizing only soft groans. A few though responded with high pitched yelps. One of the beginner level students though couldn’t take her discipline and broke position like Monica.

“Bad girl! Back in position!” Sensei Hirsha yelled at the younger brunette. The brunette wiped away a few tears before rolling on to her stomach then pushing herself back into downward dog. Monica could see a tear fall from the woman’s face as she held the position. Two strokes later, she was back on the floor, grasping at her ravaged bottom.

“Bad girl! No discipline! You move hands now!” Sensei Hirsha commanded, which the brunette slowly complied with. Hirsha didn’t even allow her to get back up this time, simply resting a foot on the woman’s lower back then dishing out four quick, hard strokes while she kicked the floor and cried.

“You not disciplined girl! You come back tonight for Yobun’na supankingu!” Sensei told the student.

“Yes Sensei,” the brunette cried from her prostate position.

“Now back into position!” Sensei told her before moving on to the next student.

Monica, like most of the other students turned their heads to watch the bitter exchange, though the other students saw it as appropriate, while Monica was completely appalled.

“Now, Jakuhai, you accept discipline?” Sensei asked Monica.

“Yes sensei,” Monica responded, as was expected. She could take the few more strokes then she’d go straight to the manager. Well, get dressed then straight to the manager.

Monica gritted her teeth as the cane bit her bottom four more times. Her bottom felt like she hand sat on a curling iron.

Sensei Hirsha started pacing behind the class as she directed the students through the remaining stretches and other cool-down activities. The class was released to the locker room and Monica made her was to the locker room as fast as she could without looking like she was running.

“I’ve got to talk to the manager!” Monica grumbled to herself as she broke into the locker room. How dare that crazy old bat cane me!

“What? you got a little spanking now your going to cry to the manager?” some one said from behind Monica.

“Damn right! That crazy bat can’t be canning students!” Monica spouted off as she turned to face the other woman.

“You probably rule your little slice of the world back home, right?” the advanced level blonde confronted Monica. “Well here, everyone is equal. Everyone participants and everyone gets disciplined for their faults. It is how this place is so rejuvenating. You are rejuvenating your body, mind and spirit! That is why you came here right!?”

“Ah..yea” Monica stammered. The sudden outburst from the blonde who looked to be barely a year out of college surprised her.

“Well then you need to participant in all parts, the fun, the entertaining and the discipline! It is a full program and in order to get the effects you must participate fully! You may have been given the choice of which programs to participate in, the programs themselves are not a-la-crate! And the discipline would you good. I know William would agree.”

“William?” Monica asked, trying to remember meeting a William during her brief stay. There had only been a few men and she couldn’t remember if any of them had been named William.

“Gattry, YOUR boss.” the blonde responded curtly. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Other than being self-righteous smart-Alec, no,” Monica retorted.

“This week better fix you attentiveness at work. I’m Valerie McConnell, and yes that McConnell,” Valerie stated shaking her head then turned towards her locker. Monica seemed like the type to take a moment to realize the obvious and she needed to grab her robe for before the hot bath.

Monica ran through every Valerie she had ever heard of in her mind. A couple politicians, a news reporter, a former colleague but no McConnell. “Who is Valerie McConnell?” she quietly whispered to herself. Then she remembered the company which owned her firm was called McConnell Longford, and that the annual report emails came from the CEO, one V. McConnell. The V must have stood for Valerie.

Monica dashed after Valerie, catching her at the door to the baths. “I’m so sorry Ms. McConnell. I didn’t mean to offend you. I really want to do better and I’ll show you, I’ll…” Monica apologized while trying to kiss up to her company’s head.

“Don’t kiss my ass,” Valerie cut her off. “You came her to re-center yourself and that is what you will do. You will embrace the program and gladfully accept every part. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Monica responded a little too eagerly.

“And I expect to see you tomorrow morning in class. Now you should get to your next class. Tardiness is not taken lightly around here.”

“Yes, ma’am” Monica answered before returning to her locker.

Monica made her way back to her locker to get her clothes when she ran into the Asian lady who’d spoke to her earlier.

“Hey, don’t worry about class. Its always a little bit of a shock for first timers.”

“Oh, yea..” Monica mumbled focusing on her locker than the half-naked woman behind her.

“I remember my first time here, I thought all the staff hated me. I got it at almost every program for the first couple of days. I then started to relax, accept I wasn’t going to sit for the rest of the week. Everything got much better. I even started to enjoy the whack here or there.”

“Enjoy it? You like that?!” Monica rebutted pointing towards the door leading to the workout rooms.

“Yea, it is all in the aftercare.”

“Hu?”

“Do you have anything scheduled right now?”

“Ah, not until lunch.”

“Give me a moment and we’ll go over to the jacuzzi. Fifteen minutes in there and you’ll be begging for another canning.”

“That bad?”

“Pure ecstasy! Just be glad you did get yoobuna soopkangu,” the Asian lady stated, exchanging her bra for a robe.

“Why? What is yubanna soapkingu?” Monica asked.

Riding the 4×4

“Oh, my head!” I moan as the beams of sun poke my eyes. Even with my eyes closed the world seems to be a blaze of light. Of that awful bright light. Why am I being punished? Oh, yea, last night and the bonfire. A queasiness down below told me the bathroom was an immediate need.

I throw back the sheet covering me and stumble into the hall towards the bathroom. The door’s open, good! A few more steps and I’m praying at the porcelain god. I hate dry heaves. There wasn’t really anything left to come up, but stomach didn’t care.

“Bets, you ok?” I heard from behind me.

I spit out as much of the disgusting taste before collapsing against the wall. Jamie, is standing over me, already dressed. How can she look so…so… fine? Didn’t she drink more than me last night?

“Here, sip on this and you’ll feel better in no time,” she tells me as she hands over a bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade. I pop it open and it tastes wonderful. The nausea had covered up my cottonmouth. I took another big gulp trying to get ride of the awful feeling.

“Slow or you’ll just puke it back up,” She warned.

“Thanx,” I say before laying an arm on the edge of a tub and resting my head on it. The room was moving a little too much at the moment for me to do much more.

“Oh, and Mom called. They are coming home today and should be here by 6. Sheriff Williams called them.” Jaime added before leaving me to rest.

Sheriff Williams meant goodbye bikini. There was no way I was wearing a swimsuit for at least a week, even if Mom would let me go anywhere. Maybe a little nap and this will all be a bad dream. Yea, just a bad dream.

—-

My second awakening was much better than the first. I could still feel the bass pounding out its rhythm in my head, but 100% less nausea made up for it. Just about anything is better than puking.

I sat up in bed and swung by legs over the edge to find my room still filled with that awful light. The bane of all hangovers. The blurriness though was not due to the hangover. I snatched up my glasses from the night stand. Today is not a contact day. Slipping the glasses on, I realize the room is even blurrier. I then realize I still have my disposable contacts in. A couple stumbles to the dresser, eye drops and my contacts are safely deposited in the trash. My glasses now return the world to high definition.

I scoop up the crumbled bathrobe laying behind my door and make my way downstairs. Jordan is a sleep on couch while Jaime is cleaning the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I mumble on my way to the coffee pot.

“Morning? 3 o’clock. Mom and Dad will be home in a couple of hours,” Jaime said without looking up from the pan she was scrubbing.

“Aren’t they supposed to be coming back tomorrow?”

“Sheriff Williams called Dad this morning, so they are coming home today!” Jamie s

“Fuck.” I sighed. “Let me get some coffee and I’ll get Jordan and Breanne up.” I started a fresh pot. I needed the caffeine and my sisters probably needed it also. Food would also be important. I doubted I would really want to eat dinner, even if we were allowed. I opened the fridge to find nothing interesting. Cereal would do. I probably ate too much last night anyways. I definitely drank too much and even light beer has way too many calories.

“Once you get finished, go wake up Jordan and Breanne and have them clean the rest of the house. You get the front yard mowed and I’ll come out to help with the garden when I’m done here,” Jaime commanded.

“Hopefully it buys us a little good will,” I said, not really believing a word of it. Goodwill goes a long way with our parents for little things, but not something like this. Thought maybe it’ll make Mom feel guilty after a week or so of our grounding and let us play while Dad is at work.

I woke Jordan from her slumber, offering a cup of coffee and our impending doom. She had half the mug gone before caffeine started turning the wheels in her head at full speed. Well full speed for her is like half speed for the rest of us. The ditzy blonde still got that party plus sheriff plus dad equaled doom. I was tempted to spell it out like that when I saw the light blub go on in her head.

I instructed Jordan to clean the living room, family room and dinning room while I went to find Breanne. Luckily she was still firmly planted in bed. Her golden locks seem to form a halo around her head. She looked so angelic. So peaceful. So innocent. She didn’t have the Jordan’s beauty, my brains or Jamie’s dynamic personality, but she did have a way of manipulating just about everyone. I think it is really her baby face, which was exaggerated when she dyed her hair the summer before she started high school. I had to vouch for her being an actual freshman to our homeroom teacher on the first day because he thought she was a kid. I would hate everyone thinking I was 13, but she likes it.

She actually likes it so much, she decorated her bedroom like a Barbie palace. I’m not talking the kiddie version where there are images of Barbie everywhere. No, her room is pink with shades of red, white and a few lavenders. It looks like a giant version of the Barbie’s bedroom from the toy house. Sickening, but I guess one of us four had to be a girly girl.

“Come on, you gotta get up,” I poked her a few times.

“I don’t wanna,” she mumbled before trying to hit me with pillow. Luckily the coffee cup was in my hand away from the bed, otherwise she may have gotten a hot surprise.

“I don’t care, and I doubt Mom and Dad will care when they get home in an hour.” Yes, we probably had at least 2 hours, but hyperbolas work well in motivating Breanne.

“So..” she mumbled.

“Remember what happened last night?”

A grumbled indicated she knew want I meant. I sat the coffee on her nightstand. “Here’s some coffee. You have the bathrooms and upstairs to clean before they get home.”

“Yes MOM!” she said sardonically. A tone I never heard her actually say to mom, just Jamie and I. Whatever, I had to get changed and get mowing asap. Also I can’t forget the allergy medicine. I may like hunting, fishing and all the other outdoors stuff, but my allergies prefer a nice climate controlled environment.

It was actually a really nice day. A few light, fluffy clouds dotted the sky. Cirrus clouds if I remember earth science class correctly. At least I’d improve my tan some while I mowed. I may be a tomboy, but I still know guys appreciate a good tan. A camisole and cutoffs was as much skin I risked showing because we had gotten no word from Mom or Dad about their ETA. Dad doesn’t really like his girls in bikinis, and I don’t care to poke an angry bear.

The mowing took forever and a day. Even the highest gear wasn’t fast enough. Though I don’t know if I wanted time to go any faster. Around and around I rode, thinking up every horrible punishment known to man. Well, not known to man, but rather, every horrible punishment two loving, caring parents may impart upon their adult daughters. A couple made me shutter so much I had to back up and re-mow a few spots.

I was just starting the trim work when Jamie lead Jordan and Breanne out to the garden. It needed a quick weeding and the fresh veggies needed to be picked; both tasks Mom normally performed. Actually, everything we did in the last couple of hours were tasks Mom normally did around the house. Mom or us, but not Dad. We probably should have targeted Dad’s tasks instead of Mom’s. It was too late now.

Mom and Dad pulled the pickup in as I was coming back from putting away the lawn mower. Time was up. A few quick loads of stuff was all that stood between us and our reckoning. I glanced over at the garden to see Jamie prodding our younger siblings toward the truck. Don’t they realize that delaying in the garden would achieve nothing.

“That’s the last load. Just go wait for your father in the living room.” Mom told Jordan and I as she rounded the edge of the porch. Jordan and I hung our heads low as we walked to the living room. Jaime and Breanne were already there, waiting nervously. Jaime seemed contend on accepting her fate, while Breanne was mumbling something to herself. No doubt she was trying to devise an exit strategy. I bet it would involve using Jamie and I as scape goats.

I played with my fingernails as the tension built. The logic side was trying to tell the emotional side exactly want was going to happened and that I would survive it, but emotions just don’t listen. They love to go to extremes. Every horrible thing I thought up while mowing was coming back with a vengeance. We would be spanked, belted, switched, grounded and have our mouth’s washed out with soap. Jamie and I would get it doubly bad because we supplied the alcohol, or at least allowed them to consume it. It was really more Jamie and my faults.

“A party!” Dad stated. He never yelled when he was mad, just forcefully stated. I think he admired Teddy Roosevelt’s “Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick” policy. Though he never carried a big stick, just the occasional small ones. “With the Cops being called?”

“Daddy, it was all a misunderstanding,” Jordan cried.

“I don’t want to hear. Each of you go cut a switch then I better see four very contrite girls lined up on the porch!” Dad stated, shaking his head in disappointment. I could feel the pain he felt in my chest. There was nothing worst than disappointing Dad. I mean he protected and gave us girls so much, and never asked for much in return. Unlike Mom, he didn’t even care if we where perfect ladies or not. He just wanted us to try our best, respect others, and honor and cherish family, God and country.

The decree though had been made and there was no backing out of it. We would be Ridding the 4×4 as we jokingly called it when all four of us sisters got spanked together. We now just had to provide the four switches and four bare bottoms, which multiplied together was 16 times the punishment.

Walking outside I noticed the trees were full of singing birds. They were singing our funeral song. I started putting words to their melodies as Jamie lead the way to the stand of trees behind the barn.

“There goes four naughty girls
Off to fetch a switch
Each one sorry for their deeds
but not as sorry as they’ll be!”

Did you know in prisons, the Green Mile, that stretch from a death row inmate’s cell to the execution chamber is often only 50 feet. The courts probably deem the 100 yards we have to go to cut a switch cruel and unusual punishment.

The grove a trees behind the barn isn’t very big, but dense enough that you can’t easily see through it. Firewood is stacked between two of the larger trees while young saplings dotting the underbrush. These young saplings are our target. A branch as thick as one’s thumb and as long as one’s arm is the requirement.

We each choose an appropriate branch, or entire new sapling in Breanne’s case, and used the Swiss army knife to cut it off and clean the excess sprouts. Haste was important, because Dad only provided us so much time to complete the chore, thought he never set an exact number. Just ‘be quick about it.’ He reinforced the message to Jamie and I the summer after I graduated high school when got to go over his knee before we got the switch. Not something I ever planned on repeating.

Four sisters, heads hung low, shuffled on back to the house, a short, flexible branch in each’s hands. Four former saplings, a sign of vitality and growth, were presented to their father to help them grow out of their youthful mischief. Four naughty girls lined up, waiting for instructions. It seems more like an except from a classic novel than our reality.

“Lower then loop your panties around the banister,” Dad instructed. I hooked my thumbs into my waistband then knelt down as I lowered them to my ankles. I stepped out of the right leg hole. Looping your panties meant looping your panties around one of the porch’s railing supports the stepping back into them, effectively locking your feet together and close to the railing. It prevented us from kicking, and vulgar displays towards Dad, though oddly still left our front visible to anyone in the backyard. I looped my panties around a banister then stepped back into them and stood up, holding the railing as I went up for support. It was an awkward movement that I had way too much practice at.

Dad always started with the youngest first, so I had two sisters to wait through before I got any attention. Waiting to be spanked is always the worst. Its especially when you 22, standing half naked on your porch waiting to be switched.

Breanne was crying before the first stroke landed. She always cried before being spanked. Maybe she thought it would cause Mom or Dad to have pity on her. I’m sure it didn’t work with Mom, but not so sure about Dad. When I saw Mom spank her a few months ago, I swear it was longer and harder than when Mom spanked the rest of us. Well, not me, but Jamie and Jordan. I couldn’t tell with Dad, since he only spanked when more than one of us was up for it and I was always waiting for my turn next to Breanne.

Dad finished the first set with Breanne and my own spanking came closer. One more bottom before mine would be graced with that evil switch. It would be all tenderized by the time it got to me, encouraging it to provide more sting.

I bit my lower lip as the flurry of strokes caused Jordan to cry out. Almost my turn. Almost my cries. Almost.

Two taps to my back prompted me to bend forward. I reached low, taking a hold of the uprights just above my panties. I had two choices of views; the flowerbed filled with wild rose bushes or between my legs. I choose neither, screwing my eyes shut instead.

The first swipe didn’t sting much. More than I had remembered, but not too much. The next burst of swipes though stung exponentially more with each swipe. “Owee owee owwee!” I cried as the sting hit a crescendo with last swat. I blinked back the initial onslaught of tears while wiggling to and fro, trying to dissipate the sting. Why couldn’t the wind blow a little bit? A cool breeze would help the sting some.

Jamie gave more of a low moan with her first dose. It took her more than just to get to the crying stage, but she would reach it.

Dad returned to Breanne and lectured her some. My attention was firmly focused on the my bottom until her cries for forgiveness perched the evening air as Dad broke that first switch across her bottom. It was standard Dad spanking protocol. A little bit for each naughty daughter, then a whole bunch for one, then again a little for each before a whole bunch for the next daughter. Getting spanked with a switch is one thing. One horrible, stingy punishment, but this roller coaster ride of sting is plain torture. Every new round would send the sting to all new highs.

With my face down and bottom up, the only thing I could do was to focus on my breathing. Slow, steady breaths through my mouth helps distract during these little interludes. The tears had stopped and the sting had just started to level off when the second round arrived.

Jordan cried out immediately. There is a point during every spanking where you give up your dignity and just accept it. Jordan had made the leap and there was no going back for her.

WHACK! “Ouch!” The first stroke took me by surprise. A narrow ban of pain striping by backside. I clenched my jaw as the following set of strokes built upon the first set. White knuckles held me firmly on the top of the rail, even when I tried to kick my legs about. The kicking was in vain because a pair of cotton panties does not tear easily. I’d tried though many times on this porch. Many more than I care to remember.

Dad moved onto Jamie as fast as he’d moved onto me, but I didn’t even notice. The million bee stings had not stopped. Shaking and wiggling wouldn’t scare them away. Logically I knew time was the only real cure the sting, but come on, who is logical in my situation.

I could hear Breanne let out her typical high pitch wails when Dad started in on her and then the progressive stronger and stronger cries coming from Jordan. I stole a glance at her to gently shaking her head as the tears flooded from her squished eyes. The hair clip popped, closing a blonde curtain around her face. I’d look like that in a moment, though brown hair instead of blonde.

Dad granted my projection sooner than I’d have wished. The first few strokes with the fresh switch burned like hell. I swear it was cutting into my cheeks with every stroke. Deeper and deeper until it suddenly stopped. I tried to control my breath a little before it returned. “I can do this, I can do this,” I kept mouthing. I can be brave and take my punishment like a big girl without crying like a baby. I’d made it this far, I could do all the way.

WAHCK! WHACK! WHACK! The switch had returned and returned with vengeance. “No more! Sniff Please! I’ll be good! SNIFF I promise! Pleasse! Please! Please!” I cried, praying the switch would break quickly, but it never did. I finally gave up all resolve and just hollered. I hollered in pain. I hollered my sorrow. I hollered anything and everything I thought would make it stop. I didn’t want to be punished anymore. It wasn’t worth it. There was no party worth this. I’d never do it again. NEVER EVER! This was…was…was what I deserved.

The switch had covered from the top of my cheeks to midway down my thighs and every part in between when it finally broke in two. Two parts that Dad tossed on my bunched shorts and panties. Two pieces I’d get to look at until Dad finished, had I dare open my eyes.

I just sobbed continuously until Dad had finished with all of us. Even his final set of strokes with Jamie’s switch didn’t change my state much. Maybe an octave higher in my cries, but I had nothing left. No resistance, no pride, no naughtiness, just contrition.

“Well, I think you’ve learned a lesson today. You girls can go stand against the wall for a while and think about why you needed to learn a lesson,” Dad grumbled then I heard the screen door open and he was gone.

Dad had always let us do this part on our own. His only expectation were the naughty girls facing the side of the house when he came out later. Nothing else mattered. Not how fast we got up, nor our state of dress. Those were good things because I didn’t want to move for few minutes and those damn panties were not returning anywhere close to their correct position anytime soon.

One foot out of my panties and I was released from my induced prison. The three steps to the side of the house would hurt, but I could do it. And once I got there, I could sneak a rub or two. Mom and Dad wouldn’t see. I hoisted myself up, before dragging my shorts and panties still hooked around my left ankle. Tiny steps and I was to the safety of the wall.

I don’t quite understand why some girls complain so much about corner-time. I find a peaceful reprieve from the whole hustle and bustle of a normal day. I time I can just finally relax. Because right now everything was gone. All the stress, the tension, the guilt. It was all gone. Washed away with the tears. And not regular tears, but tears of a spanking. The kind unlike any other kind. The kind that bring sorrow, forgiveness, and lasting lessons.

“You girls ok?” Dad asked, coming back outside. I couldn’t tell you how long he had been inside, but it didn’t matter.

“Yes,” we mumbled, turning slightly to look over our left shoulders. It must be a sight to see four half naked women with red swollen butts looking over their back over their shoulder.

“I spoke Sheriff Williams and he said no charges are going to be filed against any of you kids,” Dad stated. Good thing, because I am sure none of us wanted to spend tomorrow morning sitting on that wooden bench outside of his chambers.

“I’m sorrryy dadddy,” I cried, hugging him along with my sisters.

“I know girls, I know. But please, avoid mischief with the law. If you want to get in trouble, you know many perfectly legal ways.”

Willow Groove – Swimming with the Lee Twins

I do not quite have the next chapter of Amber’s Rush Week done yet, so I’ve included another story of the residents of Willow Groove.

6:50pm July 27th 2002

The summer heat was still as fierce as ever. Summer does not last long in Willow Groove, but it does come with a vengeance about the time fireworks light up the sky. The heat quenched all activity that didn’t involve the cool mountain streams and lakes.

John Lee stepped out of the silver Silverado 2500. A fluttering of a bird could be heard off in the woods. Shielding his eyes from the low sun, John glanced looking for the kids. There was a few bags sitting over by a tree, but no other signs of life. Hmmm, where were his daughters at? He meandered on down towards the river.

“Lucy! Laura!” John yelled for the twins. He just made it over the edge of the short ridge when he noticed the clothes. A dozen piles of clothes lined the river bank. What where the kids up to? John thought. Then he saw the two heads bobbing in the river. “Hey girls, come on, let’s go. Your mother was starting dinner when I left,” he yelled.

“Hi Daddy, ok, we’ll be there in a minute. We’ll meet you at the truck.” Lucy yelled back. If Dad went back over the ridge, she and Laura could make it to their clothes, get dressed and back without him being any wiser.

“Oh it’s ok.”  John looked upwards at the white puffs of cloud dotting the blue sky. “I might as well enjoy the day while I’m up here.”

The girls looked at each other and slowly swam towards shore, being sure to keep just their heads above the water line. They both were trying to figure out a way out of this predicament. Their clothes were in matching piles, 10 feet from their father.

“What do we do?” Laura asked Lucy quietly.

“I don’t know. I was hopping my suggestion of going back to the truck would work.” Lucy replied.

At 5 feet from the shore, their hands began scraping against the bottom. Their father had turned around as he stared upwards, so his back was towards the girls. “Run for it?” Laura whispered, trying to stay submerged. Lucy just nodded. The girls stood up, using one arm to cover their breast while the other cupped their pelvic area. They made it half way before their Dad realized they were out of the water and spun around to face his little girls running towards him in their birthday suits. They both frozen in their tracks.

“What the hell are you doing?” John yelled. His little angels had been skinny dipping.

“We were swimming, Daddy!” Laura pleaded as she could feel her face turn beat red.

“Naked!? That is no way for young ladies to be swimming!” John said.

“But Daddy, we are adults. we can swim how we want.” Lucy attempted to be as forceful with her statement she could, but there is only so much confidence a naked 20 year old girl can have while standing before her father.

“You are still my daughters, and I can punish you how I want!” John growled as he strode forward and took a hold of the girl’s forearms. A few tugs and the twins were quickly closing the distance to the pickup.

“Daddy, what about our clothes?” Lucy asked reaching for a few pieces of modesty.

John released the girls and gave each a solid smack to each girls’ behind. “I’ll get the clothes, you get those butts over the tailgate NOW!” The twins scampered up the to truck as fast as they could make the climb. The sticks and stones hurt their feet, but neither thought that would matter much in a few moments. John reached down and picked up the two piles of clothes with one hand and pulled out his knife with the other.

Laura lowered the tailgate on the back of the pickup. She took one last look at Lucy, knowing they both were doomed. Both girls had to stand on their toes to get their waist up on the edge of the tailgate. The both laid on their arms, to give some protection to their breats and prevent them from falling into the crack between the tailgate and the truck bed.

John took his time returning to the truck. He had stopped by a willow tree to cut two, 3/4 inch wide branches off. Maybe this will teach the girls to think before do something dumb.

“Daddy please, we are sorry!” Lucy cried when their father got up behind them.

“Reallly soorrrryyyy!” Laura added.

“No, not as much as you will be. What were you two thinking, skinny dipping? Didn’t you both get three new bathing suits this year? I’m disappointed in you two. You both know better.” John’s voice shifted from anger to sadness.

“Sorry Daddyyy! We won’t do it again!” Both girls cried in unison.

“I know your sorry, but I’m still going to spank you. These switches should work.”

Swish! “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH” Lucy screamed out. The branch cut deep into the high fleshy part of her bottom. All the little stubs bit beside the band of fire laid upon her wet behind.

Swish! “AHHHHHEEEEEE!” Laura echoed her sister as the switch repeated it’s task upon her upturned behind.

John worked back and forth between the bottoms, exciting a new cry with stroke of the switch. It took only three strokes before they were kicking their legs about wildly. It took 27 strokes before the first switch broke over butt. John tossed off the broken branch and wiped the sweat from his brow.

The girl’s continually cried as the fire just built. They both thought it might be over when the first switch broke, but Laura was quickly corrected when a new line of fire cut low on her butt. A new set of screams where heard as the second switch went to work. This one only made it 21 strokes, but that was enough to cover both girl’s behinds with red and purple welts.

“Put up the tailgate then get in the truck!” John commanded as he tossed the broken switch away and headed for the cab. The twins pushed themselves up off the tailgate and instantly started rubbing their butts. Lucy finally got up the tailgate then followed Laura around to the passenger’s side. They rode in the backseat, kneeling side by side, still as naked as the day they were born.

They arrived home to find their mother just finishing dinner. John pulled into the garage and shut the door.

“Daddy, can get our clothes back?” Lucy pleaded as her father got out of the truck.

“Ask your mother,” was the only thing as he went in the house.

Grace Lee was standing in front of the stove stirring the chicken dish as her two naked daughters waddled into the kitchen. “Why aren’t you two wearing clothes?” Grace gasped upon seeing her daughters.

“Dad wouldn’t give them back,” Laura answered.

“Why would your father have your clothes?” Grace asked knowing the answer wouldn’t be good.

“Well….we were…kinda…swimming and Dad startled us,” Lucy stammered.

“You were skinny dipping?” Grace asked.

“Yeaa,” the girls answered together looked contritely down at the floor. Grace pulled the girls, face first over the kitchen table, exposing their purplish butts.

“I see your father didn’t approve. Well I don’t either.” She reached over for a the bottle of menthol oil sitting next to the table. “I think this will help you remember the importance of your modesty.”

She poured a little bit on Lucy’s left cheek then began to work it around with her hand. “Ouch, owwwe, ahhh, estttts sniff AHHHHHHHHHH! IT BURNS! Lucy cried out.

Grace added more oil then worked it around the other cheek, between the cheeks and down between their legs. When she got done, she let Lucy up. “Go get an old bathing suit for both of you then get right back here! And no rubbing!” She commanded as she went to work on Laura’s behind.

Laura took it even worst than Lucy; eliciting the same cries of mercy, but also bucking around considerably more. Grace ended up giving her half a dozen hand spanks to ‘settle’ her back down.

Lucy returned with two old bikini bathing suits, still unaware what her mom wanted them for. Grace laid the bottoms on the table next to Laura then poured some of the oil suits, completely covering the crotch and back portions. Once the oil soaked in, she handed a bottom to each girl. “You can wear these for the rest of the weekend.” The girls reluctantly pulled the bottoms up their legs and over the tender flesh. The fire from the oil hadn’t let up yet, encouraging their bottoms to wiggle about. Grace then handed over the matching tops. “Put these on then get a t-shirt. I expect you both back here in 2 minutes to set the table.”

The girls scampered off to their room, covering their breasts with the bathing suit top with one hand while pulling back the bottom off their behinds. Grace washed the reminents of the oil off her hands before removing dinner from the stove. “Skinny dipping! Wow.” Grace mumbled under her breath. “For how smart they are, they sure do some dumb stuff.”

Laura appeared in an old high school t-shirt about a minute and a half later. “Where’s Lucy?” Grace asked.

“Ah, I think she went to the bathroom.” Laura replied, keeping up as much of her ‘I’m a repentent little girl’ look as possible.

Grace closed her eyes briefly and shook her head a little. “One day she’ll learn,” she thought. “Well get the table set. The tell your father that dinner is ready,” Grace told Laura.

Lucy appeared just as Laura left to get their father. “I said 2, not 10 minutes.” Grace said as the last dish was set on the table.

“I had to go to the bathroom,” Lucy said in a softer but higher pitch voice than normal.

“And wash your bottom?” Grace asked. Lucy instinctively started to blush a little more.

“No,” She lied. A fresh tear trickled down the right side of her face.

“You know better than to lie to me!” Grace said forcefully. Just then Laura returned with John in tow. “You to start go ahead and start, Lucy and I need to talk.” Grace ushered her daughter back to the kitchen. John took his usual seat at the head of the table, while Laura attempted sit down on only the mid-part of her thighs then braced herself up with the table. The odd, and slightly uncomfortable position allowed her to keep the major portion of her rear end off the seat, while appearing to sit. It was an acrobatic maneuver both girls had perfected over the years. They always seemed to get spanking before dinner, rather than afterwards.

Laura could hear some muffled voices from the kitchen followed by the water running and a little rustling. She took some rice and green beans and chicken, mostly at the instance of her father. She was just bringing the first bite to her mouth when she heard a low swish then a muffled cry. The sound made her jump a little, dropping the food back to her plate.  She instantly knew what was happening in the kitchen, and was thoroughly glad she hadn’t joined Lucy in the bathroom.

The muffled swishes and cries continued at a good pace for the next five minutes. Every cry was a little louder than the previous one, causing Laura cringe a little bit each time. She still managed to get through half of her bowl before her mother returned to the dinning room, sans Lucy.

“Lucy decided to skip dinner and just go straight to bed once she finishes the dishes. Laura, you can join her once you wash these dishes.” Grace said to Laura. “So honey, how was your day?”

Laura just kinda sat there in silence while her parents carried on a typical dinner conversation. She ate, even though she had no appetite. After 25 minutes, her parents finally finished, allowing her to clear the table and wash the few remaining dishes. Lucy had returned to their room well before dinner finished. Bending over the sink caused the bikini bottoms to pull against Laura’s bottom, inciting a fresh burn now there. Twisting was even worst, feeling like another stroke was delivered to her bottom. Laura was lightly crying again by the time she finished the dishes and made her way to her room.

Laura found Lucy was laying face down on her own bed, with her bottom pointing up in the air. Laura took the same pose in the other bed.

“I am NEVER skinny dipping again!” Lucy cried to her sister.

“I agree,” Laura echoed. “Mom wash your mouth out with soap for lying?”

“Sniff. Yea, then re-oiled my bottom before using the chopstick on it.”

“Ouch. Sorry sis. I could hear some of your cries from the dinning room.”

“That was with the soap still in my mouth. Halfway through Mom threatened to put some oil inside if I didn’t settle down. I don’t know how that would have helped my wiggling.” Both girls chuckled at the remark before drifting off to sleep. The swimming earlier had drained all their energy. Of course the events since hadn’t helped either.

Willow Groove – The Pledges get an unlikely protector

Amber was in awe to the size and elegance of the house’s formal dinning room. The emptiness of the room did not help make the room any less imposing. Amber later found out that the emptiness was due to the fact most sisters didn’t move back into the house until later in the week. Currently the sorority officers and those sisters assisting with the pledges were the only sisters residing at the house.

Three girls sat at the head table and another three sat at the end of a side table, all eating dinner and chatting among themselves. The mahogany tables perfectly matched the hard wood paneling lining each wall.

“Pledges sit here!” Kayla stated dryly once we all had entered the room. She pointed at a smallish table opposite of the head table, which was lined with 10 chairs. Two platters of roast chicken tenderloins, two large bowls of salad, two baskets of dinner rolls and platters of fresh vegetables were spread along the center of the table. A full place setting sat at each chair as well as a tall glass of ice water.

“Pledges however do not eat until all the sisters and honored guests have been served. Someday you might earn the privilege of determine meal chore schedules, but until that time, all pledges will help with food preparation, serving, and cleaning. Since the sister’s didn’t want to wait for you to be corrected, feel lucky this one time you get to eat without preparing or serving the meal. Please find a chair.”

We each went to a chair around the pledge table. Bridgette started to sit down when Kayla lit in to her. “DID I SAY YOU CAN SIT DOWN!”

Bridgette jumped back, covering her bottom with both hands. Half the girls were actually startled by the sudden outburst, and most reached back to cover their bottoms. The sisters at the other end of the dinning room went silent as they watched the show.

“No ma’am.” Bridgette squeaked.

“That’s right! I said FIND a chair, not SIT DOWN! Did you not learn anything from your paddling earlier?” Kayla continued berating the taller girl.

“No ma’am, I mean yes ma’am. I’m sorry ma’am!” Bridgette stammered.

“What is it, Yes or No?” Kayla asked. Amber realized it was a trick question and felt bad for Bridgette. If she had not choose a chair far from the door, it could have been her feeling Kayla’s wrath.

“Ah.ah…yes?” Bridgette hesitantly answered.

“Yes, you did not learn anything from your paddling earlier. I guess you’ll just need another one!” Kayla state then turned towards the door.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry. I learned from the paddling!” Bridgette pleaded. “I really did! Please don’t paddle me again!”

“You learned from the paddling? I’m not so sure. Fellow pledges, do you think she learned from her paddling?” Kayla asked the other pledges. The pledges looked at each other before nodding.

“I can’t hear them!” Sarah yelled from her place at the head table.

“Yes ma’am!” The pledges said more or less in unison.

“I don’t think the sisters believe you. Why don’t you show the sisters that you have learned a lesson already today.” Kayla said motioning to the 7 active members watching the scene.

“Hmm. hmm,” Bridgette stammered, not quite sure what Kayla meant.

“Turn your backside towards the actives and show them your punished bottom!” Kayla instructed. A couple of the other pledges started grinning at Bridgette’s embarrassment. Kayla noticed the undue interest and amended her instructions, “actually why don’t all the pledges who have learned something today, show what they have learned.”

Most of the pledges groaned as the made their way to stand next to Kayla. The two pledges who had not been paddled stood still. “You did not learn a lesson today? Well maybe I should get the paddle and correct that?”

“No ma’am,” both pledges said, scampering around the table to join the rest of the girls. Once the girls were lined up, they all lowered the PJ bottoms to mid thigh exposing the seat of their panties.

“We don’t see any lessons! Those are just panties!” yelled Amy Featherstone.

“Pledges, Amy is correct. Those panties are hiding any evidence of you learning a lesson. They will either need to come down or I’ll just have to reinforce it.” Kayla said. The pledges eagerly pulled the backside of their panties down, exposing 8 pink bottoms and two pristine ones. A little embarrassment was better right now than another paddling. Well at least those who had just been paddled thought so.

“Better!” Amy stated, “But it looks two of them haven’t learned anything yet!”

Kayla moved in front of the line of pledges before addressing the Sorority’s Vice President. “These girls did not break a rule, but rather learned from the mistakes of the other pledges.” Kayla defended. This shocked and confused the pledges. Why was she defending them after having ripped into them a moment earlier? “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes ma’am” both answered while nodding vigorously.

“Well everything seems to be in order. Kayla, please get the pledges seated and feed. I’m sure they are hungry after moving in.” Amanda Richmond interrupted the hazing of the pledges.

“Yes ma’am,” Kayla answered before addressing the pledges, “Get those panties and PJs up and back to the table.” Quickly 10 girls covered their bare bums and scampered back to the chair they had been standing behind. This time no one dared touch the chairs, let alone sit down. “You may be seated and you may start once everyone is ready.” Kayla commanded. Ten chairs were pulled back in unison as the pledges took their seats. Kayla just nodded once everyone was seated, indicating they could begin.

Amber had never really tasted food so fresh and full of flavor before. She had been to some nice restaurants in New York, but none of it could compare to the meal laid before her. The chicken was firm on the outside and moist inside with tones of hickory smoke. The salad was full of crispy letuce, cherry tomatoes, carrots and cucumbers all lightly accented with italian dressing. The dinner rolls had thin outer cell and soft, steamy inner core. She was sure any of her foodie friends back in Brooklyn would be jealous of this meal.

Dinner passed quickly and silently for the pledges. The actives mostly just ignored them, though after the events downstairs and just minutes earlier in the dinning room, no one wanted to draw attention to themselves so they all ate with the minimal amount of speaking. After dinner, the actives left their plates at their table and the pledges remained seated until Kayla provided them instructions. Cleaning the dinning room, kitchen and dishes took the girls over an hour, primarily because they wanted to make sure everything was spotless.

The pledges then retired to their quarters until bedtime, as per Kayla’s instructions. The girls mostly organized their things and chatted with their roommates. None of the dared to look lazy or unproductive, yest that be an unknown rule. Sarah and Kayla returned to the pledge quarters at 8:30 pm.

“ATTENTION!” Sarah yelled. Immediately every pledge quickly jumped up and ran into the common room, forming a line. All the pledges were lined up within 25 seconds, though Madison took a noticeably more time than the rest of the pledges. Sarah paced up and down the line of girls, staring at each and every single one. “Pledge Madison, step forward!”

Madison hesitantly took a step forward. The only thing she could think of was the paddle hanging just to the right of Kayla’s head and the seven swats she had took earlier. She didn’t want any more of it. She wouldn’t be able to take it. Her bottom still ached from earlier. More would be just torture. She could stop the single tear from streaking down her face as she waited for Sarah’s pronouncement.

“Pledge, what took you so long to get in line?” Sarah asked.

“Hmmm.. I was reading some material for orgo, and hmmm,” Madison whispered quietly.

“Speak up!” Sarah instructed from the other end of the line.

“I was reading for orgo and had to put the book away,” Madison blurted out. “Please don’t paddle me!”

“Why would I paddle you for following the rules?” Sarah asked rhetorically, but sympathetically. “I only punish you to help you learn, not to be mean.” Sarah then turned to all of the pledges, “I am responsible for your successful maturation into sisters at Sigma Epsilon Chi. I want everyone of your to pass the initiation tests at the end of the semester. Its why I will push you so hard during the pledging process. I want you to succeed. I remember being a pledge. Standing in your vary spot on my first night in the house. The nervousness. The anxiety. Wondering what was going to happen next. It is scary, and it is OK to be scared. Kayla and I are here to help you through it. Sometimes that help will be less than pleasant, like earlier today, but we are still here to help you succeed.” Sarah paused for a moment to let her speech set in. “Kayla, what is rule # 10?”

“Be dependable and responsible in all aspects of one’s life, the punishment shall be 25 swats,” Kayla recited from memory. All the pledges took a little gasp at the severity of the punishment. Most had taken only a quarter of that earlier and felt like their bottom was going to catch on fire.

“My responsibility is you, and your successful transition to being a full sister of Sigma Eplison Chi. 25 swats is also a great motivator. If you have any questions or need help, please ask Kayla or myself. And this is about anything, the sorority, university, boys, anything.” Sarah gave another pause. “Ok, lights out for pledges is 10 PM. Unless you have special permission for me, you are to be in bed by 10 sharp. It is,” Sarah glanced at her watch, “8:43 right now. That gives you just over an hour to get settled in before bedtime. I recommend you get to know your roommates. The more you know about each other, the easier the pledging process is going to be. Kayla or I will be back later to wish you good night. If you need me, I am in room 201. It is the first room at the top of the stairs. Any questions?” Every pledge’s mind was full of questions, but no one dared to ask. “OK, you are dismissed.”

None of the pledges moved until Sarah and Kayla had left the pledge quarters. For a second after the door closed, the room was absolutely silent. No voices. No music. No TV. Not even the electrical hum of a computer could be heard. Just silent tension. The click of the wall clock cut through the silence like a gunshot. Everyone let out a sigh of relief that their tales were not in the firing range, and probably could be avoided until at least the morning.

The Memorial Day Water Balloon Attack

Memorial Day Weekend. The unofficial start of summer here in the Midwest. Actually I guess it’s country wide, but here it means warm weather, no school and beach parties. For my family, Memorial Day Weekend is also the weekend everyone goes up to by grandparents cabin and helps them open it for the summer. The guys all help grandpa with some project while us ladies help grandma cook, relax and look after the little ones. Well we used to help look after the little ones, but now my youngest cousins are in middle school, so we mostly relax and play games.

This year started like most every other year. I drove back from college on Thursday so I could hitch a ride up with my parents. They both took Friday off so we left first thing and got to the lake around noon. Lake Michigan is beautiful this time of the year. Freezing cold, but beautiful. My grandparents place is in the woods on the northern shore where the house is perched on a small cliff providing great panoramic view. Supposedly they bought the property years ago because of the view and decided to build their summer house here when they retired.

Only two of my aunts and uncles came up this year, and then only Aunt Sally’s younger daughter, Lani, came. Lani was born 6 months after me, which meant we did everything together at family functions. Growing up, we lived about half an hour away from each other, so these little family reunions were our time to catch up and play.

Friday evening grandpa made a bonfire. Those of us cousins who made it this year roasted marshmallows for Smores. My uncle’s two boys, James and John, were drinking beers while my cousin Lani and I taught John’s fiance how to cook the perfect marshmallow. Jenny came from the city, not the country like all of the rest of the family. Lani and I would have to teach her how things were out here.

—–

The rising sun inched its beam of light across our faces. I could hear the sizzle of bacon already cooking as I fought back consciousness. Sleep good! The sleeping bag was so warm and comfortable. Why do old people have to get up so early in the morning?

“You all going to sleep till noon?” Grandpa poked our feet on his way out to the deck.

I dragged my lifeless body out of the cozy embrace to make a beeline for the bathroom. I wanted to beat Jenny since I bet she took forever in the bathroom in the morning. I never did understand why they only built one general bathroom. The house is like 10,000 square feet and there is only one bathroom. Well, three if you count the one off my grandparents bedroom and the one off the guest room.

I was scratching my hair as I left the bathroom and did not even notice Jenny waiting at the door. I’m not a big girl, actually at the ‘ideal’ weight for my 5 foot 7 frame , but Jenny is a petite little thing and stood no chance when we collided. Makeup and toiletries that she had bundled in towel went everywhere as she fell to the floor. It took me a moment to realize what happened when she shrieked. I couldn’t help but giggle as she scampered about collecting items. I don’t know if the pink satin panties or the tampon was more embarrassing, but she was blushing.

Lani took the opportunity to seek ahead in line, while I “helped” Jenny collect her things, making Jenny have to wait again once everything was secured in the towel. Mom on the other hand did not care for my helpful gesture.

Breakfast was delicious as always. There is something about grandma’s biscuits and gravy that beat out every restaurant. Even Mom cannot seem to get the recipe right. Lani and I chatted about school while the guys spoke about the repairs to the dock over breakfast. Mom, my aunts and grandma took their regular turns between the kitchen and deck with fresh supplies of eggs, bacon and biscuits.

After breakfast Lani and I begrudgingly took up station by the sink, washing the pots and pans from breakfast. We never us real plates or utensils on these weekends so we only every need to wash are the pots and pans. It is still no fun. A few sprays of the kitchen hose though make it a little more interesting. I got Lani good for her smearing the leftover gravy in my face. Washing dishes was just starting to get fun when Aunt Sally yelled at us to stop making a mess.

When we finally finished with the dishes our mothers were working on some arts and crafts project and the guys where tearing apart the old dock. Neither looked to appealing to Lani or I so we decided to take a walk and explore.

Grandpa’s workshop was nothing special, just a bunch of woodworking tools. He would build stuff over the summer then sell it at various arts and craft shows as they traveled down to Florida for the winter. There were table saws and sanders and other kinds of saws, all coated in a thin layer of sawdust. I started writing “Clean Me” in the sawdust when Lani found something on anther workbench.

“Hey, look what I found!” Lani held up a dirty plastic bag full of red white and blue things.

“What are those?”

“Water balloons!” Lani said with a broad mischievous grin.

“Lets get the boys!” I said as I snatched up the bag and headed around back.

An exterior faucet poked out the backside of the workshop, allowing us to stay hidden while we prepared our ammo. Living on Lake Michigan, my grandparents draw their water directly from the lake, generally making their cold water just above freezing. Bad for outside showers, but excellent for water balloons.

With five rounds between us, we crept over to the woods then out to the shore. Most of the shore is a mixture of rocky jettisons mixed with five foot cliffs, but the top of the cliffs are covered in bushes and other low brush making it hard to see from the water. We would have great cover for our surprise attack.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! Direct hits! The water balloons struck James on chest and his older brother on the back and head. The surprise assault really took John off guard. The impact was just enough to cause him to stumble on the dock support. The narrow beam did not have enough room for him to regain his footing before he tumbled into the lake.

Lani nor I could help but giggle as John crashed into the water. John was going to be pissed, so we had to get out of here right now.

“Com’n lets go,” I whispered to Lani before taking off through the brush towards the woods.

“Lani Marie!” “Theresa Anne!” Two voices called from the house. I looked over at Lani and just mouth “Oh shit.”

“Go or hide?” Lani asked.

“Putting off our execution is only going to make it worst,” I said.

“Unless they forget?” Lani responded with a tight smile.

“Your mom ever forget?”

“No…Rats, and this was starting to become a good weekend.” Lani pouted as she led the way back to the house.

Mom and Aunt Sally stood side by side on the deck with their arms crossed. Even from the edge of the woods we could tell our mothers were mad. I initially hoped I could talk my way out of it, but as we got closer, the strip of leather in my mom’s hand dashed any hope.

“What do you girls think you were doing?” my mom yelled at us.

“You could have hurt someone,” Aunt Sally added.

“We didn’t mean to.” Lani and I pleaded.

“Sure you didn’t. Why else would you throw water balloons at your cousins while they are working with power tools.” Mom said, wagging her finger at me. This always made me feel like such a kid. Only naughty little girls get fingers wagged at them.

“We are sorry, we were just having a little fun,” I pleaded. My eyes had yet to leave the 16 inch strip of leather in mom’s hands. I knew what is was for and did not care to feel it today.

“JUST A LITTLE FUN! They would have been seriously hurt or killed!” Aunt Sally yelled.

“We are really sorry!” we pleaded.

“SORRY? I’ll show you sorry!” Mom grabbed by arm and pulled be over towards the railing. I could hear Lani pleading with her mom as she was forced behind me.

“Please mom, not here. I’m an adult. Please!” I pleaded before being unceremoniously bent over the deck rail. I started to push up when Lani joined me on the right. Mom would have none of it, pressing her left hand into my shoulders and forcing me farther over the rail.

“Yeeks, No please!” Lani shrieked next to me.

Mom followed her sister-in-laws example, working my jean shorts and panties down to my ankles. I could’ve died of embarrassment at that moment. Here I was, a rising sophomore in college, bent bare bottom over a deck rail about to get spanked. “Mom Please not bare!”

“Stop whinning you too.” Aunt Sally scolded us.

THUACK! The first stroke us both by surprise. Lani and I yelped almost in unison. I had forgot how intense of a burn the strap could impart on the first stroke.

THUACK! The straps bit down in unison again before I had much of a chance to internalize the first spank.

I bit my lower lip, preparing for the next stroke as I glanced to my right. Lani was looking back at me. The fear, the embarrassment, the pain, all shown in her eyes. Her eyes snapped shut, and a grimace of pain spread across her face as I heard her strap make contact before mine. Is that what I look like during a spanking? I only had a second to ponder before fire shot up my backside.

I grunted, then tried to kick off the sting. My resistance was rewarded with the strap firmly laid across the top of my tights, which stung like none other. “PLEASE not there!” I cried out.

Our mothers separated into their own pace after the first few strokes, deciding to wear out their daughter’s independently. I could not tell if mom was going faster or slower and it really did not matter at the time. The supple leather bit over and over into my tender cheeks until I was sobbing and could no longer even make out Lani through the tears.

“Do you think you will need to be spanked again?” Mom asked.

“No ma’am sniff” I answered quietly.

“Good, you can join Lani over there on the wall until lunch.” Mom said, slapping my bare bottom. I shuffled over to the wall, rubbing my sore bottom with one hand while pulling my t-shirt as low as it would go in the front. I’d rather moon my family than the other option. I took a quick glance at Lani’s bottom on my way to her side. I always felt a pain of jealously when I saw her well toned bottom. It should be well toned with her going to college on a track scholarship.

I’m not sure if the spanking or standing with my bare butt facing the lake was more embarrassing. Jenny sure tried to maximize our discomfort. I guess it was payback for our fun with her earlier mishap.

“Aw, were you little girls naughty? I bet your bottoms really sting,” Jenny commented as she went in the house for the tenth time to get something to drink. With Mom sitting on the porch I just had to bit my tongue and bare it, otherwise risk another spanking. Another spanking right now was the last thing I wanted.

Mom eventually returned our clothes and sent us in to get lunch, once everyone else had made a sandwich and were seated on the deck. Lani and I scampered off to the bathroom to get dressed and inspect the damage.

“How is mine?” I asked trying to twist around and see in the mirror. All I could see is pink tops of my cheeks.

“Ouch, you got caught on the thighs?”

“Yea, kicking too much. Let me see you,” I said turning to look at Lani. She turned her back to me, wiggling off her deep red cheeks at me. A few dark maroon welts had been left by the edge if the strap. I gently dragged an index finger over the ridges, feeling the hot rough texture.

“Ouch! If your going to touch, at least use some cooling cream!” Lani snapped, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Fine..” I snickered popping open the medicine cabinet. Sunburn cream would work nicely to cool down out bottoms. I first worked a generous amount into Lani’s rear then she returned the favor. It felt wonderful as the soothing cream worked into my tender flesh.

We disappeared for most of the rest of the day. Getting another spanking was not in our agenda for the weekend. The first one had kind of became tradition over the past few years, but a second one, definitely not. Anyways, on Tuesday I would start my summer internship at my other grandfather’s law firm and wouldn’t get to have this kind of fun all summer long. I had gotten most of the mischief out of my system. Hopefully at least until Independence Day.