Halloween Pranks

This is a story I wrote last month and had scheduled to be posted the night before Halloween, however I somehow messed up the scheduling aspect and it was never posted. So here is a little belated Halloween story.

Halloween is the best holiday of the year. There is no debating it. There is a slight chill in the air, revitalizing you after long hot summer. Couple that with the parties, the decorations and the sweets and you have a spectacular month of celebrations. And, it is the only time of the year where you can dress up as a complete slut and no one gives you a second look. Well, the creepy guys do, but they always do. Whether you are naughty nurse with two tiny strips of fabric covering the vital areas or a frumpy mother of two with no makeup and in baggy sweats.

All of those points are just icing on the cake to the best part of Halloween, pranks. The “treat” portion of trick or treating is good, but the trick portion is much, much better. There are few things better in life than pulling of the perfect prank. The culmination of a hundred little steps in the look of shock is unlike anything else. The receiver of my pranks where not as always so receptive. As a kid, I just assumed I was grounded from Halloween until about Thanksgiving, and every year it was worth it.

This year I had one of my better pranks planned out. George was going to be out of town on business the week of Halloween, not to return until the morning of the first, which meant the kids were mine. I had yet to pull any of my master pranks on the kids, but it seemed right year to indoctrinate them.

Being four and six, they had yet to understand the intricacies of this wonderful holiday, and instead focused just on the candy. Will had been planning his costume since labor day, building a really good replica of R2D2 out of a trashcan, just some cardboard, paint and a bunch of his dad’s help. George had somehow gotten a copy of the original plans for the studio and helped him build it exactly like the movies.

I took Friday off work to attend Gina’s class party in the morning and then Will’s in the afternoon. They both looked so adorable. Gina had choose a little Cinderella dress with matching plastic “glass” slippers. I swear, half the girls in her class chose to one of the two characters from Frozen. Her party went pretty much as expected, especially when any “sweets” were banned and replaced fruit and veggies. The other mothers actually made a bigger fuss than the kids.

Gina tagged along to Will’s party, which he didn’t particularly like, but it didn’t cause any harm. Will’s class allowed sweets, but only ones acceptable to all kids. This meant gluten free, sugar free, peanut free, round pieces of cardboard were handed out as “cookies.” I almost bust out laughing at the face Gina made when she tried one. Ever the miss manners, she struggled to finish the horrible desert.

After school the kids wanted to immediately go trick or treating, and were quite annoyed when they had to wait three hours, as well as eat dinner. We spent about an hour walking around the neighborhood, with them trying to get candy from every house, insignificant of the porch light being on. At the end, Will wanted to continue, even through he was starting to struggle with carrying his heavy bag of candy.

I poured the candy from their two bags into one big pile on the kitchen island. Holding the big bowl in my left hand, I quickly picked out the good pieces around the edges. Will and Gina watched with baited breath while I sorted out the good candy and the suspicious pieces. I was about a third of the way done when I sat the bowl between them and said “OK, you can choose one piece to eat tonight.”

I turned my head to sort out a few more good pieces and when I looked back, both of the kids were chomping away. I had to glance around the bowl to make sure they had actually removed the wrapper before inhaling the sweet.

After sorting out the suspicious stuff, including a tiny baggie of cut celery, I carefully placed the overflowing bowl into the oven for safe storage. Two pairs of little eyes followed their treasure all the way to it’s storage space, making sure mommy didn’t try and steal any. It was so adorable, and so perfectly naive for my upcoming prank.

After I got the kids in bed, I sent my plan in motion. I had bought a second, big blue bowl yesterday and dug it out of the closet where I had hid it. Removing their candy from the oven, I pull out an old cookie tray and lined it with aluminum foil. I then set the second bowl of candy on the try and returned it to the oven. Cranking it up to 450, I figured the bowl would be a heap of plastic in no time.

I was correct. Fifteen minutes later I had a mushy pile of blue plastic that had the slightest resemblance of a bowl. I pulled it out of the oven and decorated the top with the wrappers of the candy I had ate while waiting for the bowl to melt. It looked perfect mistake. I replaced the melted bowl in the oven when it had cooled down and went to bed, eagerly waiting for morning.

—-

“MOM! MOM! OUR CANDY!” Will yelled, as he shook me awake.

“Hu? What do you mean?” I said, not immediately realizing what he said in my semi-drozy state.

“Out candy is all gone!” Gina cried beside her brother.

My prank came back in a flash. “No, it’s just in the oven, where you saw me put it last night,” I faked rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“Com’on see!” Will tugged me down to the kitchen, barely allowing me to grab my robe along the way.

“It’s all gone,” Will blubbered, dropping to his knees in front of the open oven. The kids were not supposed to get in the oven without my permission, but that rule had been obviously overlooked before I woke up.

“Oh no, what could have happened?” I faked concern, holding my hand over my mouth to prevent the kids from seeing the grin I knew was going to be overtaking my lips soon.

Will stared at the pile of melted blue plastic, blubbering some nonsense. Gina, on the other hand had quietly stepped back from the bowl, seemly in shock. I did my best to cover the giggle I could feel building inside when I heard Gina in the living room.

“Yes 911 I need help!” Gina cried into the receiver.

“Oh shit!” I mumbled, running for the living room.

“OK, honey, just try to calm down…” I heard coming from the phone as I reached her. I immediately separated Gina and the receiver.

“Sorry, everything’s OK. My daughter just misunderstood something.”

“Ma’am, who is this?” the 911 operator demanded.

I spent the next few minutes trying to convince her that everything was ok and or disregard the crying she heard in the background. I was fearful of police showing up at any minute and busting down our front door.

After getting off the phone, I scolded Gina for her poor usage of 911 then told the kids it was all a big joke. This was the point were I started to think about George’s opinion of my prank. I tried to pacify the kids with some extra candy, but they were still annoyed with my prank that they ratted me out to George when he got home.

And that is why I am here. Nose to the corner, waiting for George to finish a few emails and come upstairs.

—-

“Come here,” George commands. I scamper over to his side, hoping to go over his knee, rather than be sent over the end of the bed. He sits down on the edge and I start laying myself over his offered lap when he stops me. “Not so fast. Does my baby know why she is being punished?”

His tone is soft and comforting, but reeks of disappointment. It sent a chill through me, and not the good, excited kind, but the “I’m scared of what is going to happen” kind. “Yes, sir” I mumble, looking down at this sock covered feet.

“Good. Then you can go over there and bend over and grab your ankles.” George motions to the center of our bedroom.

I hate getting spanked bending over and grabbing my ankles. It makes me feel like such a naughty little girl. That feeling probably came from the Halloween when we went in paired costumes; I as a naughty school girl and George as the strict headmaster. The sex that night was spectacular, even if it involved him pounding away at my freshly caned bum.

I step to the prescribed spot and reach down for my toes. The once easy task of touching my toes is hindered by my reduced flexibility from age and two children. I feel all the muscles start to strain across my thighs, then up towards the peak of my body. The skin stretches taught as I grab a hold just above my ankles before closing my eyes and waiting. I do not want to know what a waits my bottom.

The whistle of air is the only indication that he has started. I try to brace for the impact but I am a millisecond too late. As is typical, the first stroke overwhelms my senses, as it rushes from my bottom, down my spine to my brain. My eyes flash open as I try to scream, but instead I can gulp for a new breath.

I am more prepared for the second stroke, gritting my teeth and sucking in air as now recognized cane cuts into my bottom. I take the third and fourth strokes as well as the second one. On the fifth one he catches me low one the cheeks and I let out a little squeak. The sixth one is lower still and I let my displeasure with its placement be known through low, drawn-out “ouch!”

George breaks his steady pace. I can feel him moving closer to my hips and I can only think of him taking me from behind. Rather, I am hoping he will take me now. A quiver runs through my pelvis and I’m sure my hips quake.

He dances his fingertips across my stripped bottom and I clench every muscle in my pelvis. “Do you think you have been punished adequately?” George asks, dancing his fingers close and closer to my ache.

“Yessssss,” I coo, hoping he will move south.

“Well, I don’t think so. Another half-dozen seems warranted,” he says, removing his fingers. I groan at his intention to continue, but I know better than to openly complain, especially in my current position. “But first.”

“Ahhh,” I gasp as he touches me again. This is the best part of being naughty.

Here’s to you, Mr Franklin

I had wrote this story back when daylight savings time ended back in autumn, but it did not seem to work as well when you set the clocks back an hour as going forward an hour. I had forgotten about it until I stumbled across it yesterday.

“Damn Benjamin Franklin!” Jules thought, washing the last of the dishes from the Lent breakfast. “Why did he have to come up with stupid daylight savings time?” she mumbled under her breath. This common error was just the latest in a series of bad choices for her today.

She sorely wanted to reach down and rub her throbbing sensation which had engulfed her pelvis, but didn’t dare try with her damp hands. She knew from previous experience that getting any water on her light blue satin dress would turn the fabric a dark blue hue. A quick rub was not worth having to explain a dark blue splotch in such a location.

The irony of her thought took a moment to hit her. Here she stood, in the basement of the church, washing dishes while the rest of the parishioners sat upstairs listening to a sermon on God’s grace and mercy.

“VEERRRR” vibrated across the night stand. Jules ventured a single out from the warm embrace of her down comforter. She brought the phone right up to her nose before she could make out who was calling. “Honey!” displayed above her finance’s picture. Even though he had woke her up, she still gave a smile before accepting the call.

“Jules, have you left yet?” Cory said, a little out of breath on the other end of the line.

“Hu…no?” Jules mumbled into the phone.

“Are you still asleep!?” Cory asked.

“Yea, I was just getting up,” she mumbled before pulling the phone away from her ear to see the time “7:02” printed in tiny letters across the top of the display.

“You are just getting up!” Cory yelled through the phone. He seldom used his “wrath of god sermon” voice with her, but the few times he had, she had screwed up royally. “You were supposed to be ten minutes ago!”

“Sorry, I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Jules said, jolting upright in bed.

“Well, please bring a whisk. The one here broke and we are going to need to make another batch of batter before the next service.” Cory instructed her.

“OK, see you soon,” she responded instinctively, focused more on getting out of her PJs and into the shower than the stuff Cory was saying.

“Bye,” Cory said before hanging up.

Jules flew through the shower and the rest of her morning routine. She literately ran out the door 15 minutes after the phone had woke her up, barely remembering to grab her phone.

—-

Jules hated speeding, but the church was five miles away and she was way to late to obey speed limits. Luck was on her side for the first three lights, flying through the intersection just as the light turned yellow. The fourth light turned green a hundred yards before she reached the intersection. She shifted to the left lane to avoid having to slow down for the couple of cars stopped in the right lane. She was going fifty in a thirty-five when she crossed in front of the cop sitting at the intersection.

Had she even saw the cop, she would have swore God had intervened to save her from the ticket, because the SUV in the right lane blocked the cop’s radar detector and the exact moment she crossed the intersection.

Jules pulled into one of the close spots and ran inside as fast as she could in the heels. She found Cory in the kitchen, wrapped in a purple apron, flipping pancakes.

“There you are,” Cory said seeing her flouncy past him.

“Yea, sorry my alarm didn’t go off.” Jules said with a bit more attitude than was needed.

“You forgot to reset your alarm for daylight savings time,” Cory corrected her, as he made a large stack of pancakes.

“Yea, whatever,” Jules mumbled, sitting her purse and coat in the corner of the counter-top. “What can I help with?”

“Well, we are done with the first batch, so you can start making another batch of batter. Grab your whisk and you can reuse this bowl.”

“What whisk?” Jules asked, completely oblivious to Cory’s earlier request.

“I think we need to have a little discussion,” Cory told her quietly before turning to his left and heading towards the pantry located at the back of the kitchen.

Jules could feel her luck run out as she followed her fiance the 10 feet to the pantry. The isolated room acted more like a storage room for extra appliances, dishes and utensils than a food storage location. Cory flicked on the light and locked the door behind them before focusing his attention on Jules.

“I told you last night that it was daylight savings time and to reset your alarm because it would not adjust by itself, but did you listen?” Cory lectured.

“No,” Jules replied, trying to sound sorry.

“And then you forgot to bring the whisk, which I asked you to this morning.”

“Sorry… I will listen better next time. I promise!”

“Well, I think you need a reminder. Why don’t you bend over and grab that lower shelf?” Cory asked rhetorically.

“Please not here!” Jules begged. Her mind was filled with the possibility of someone walking in the door any moment, and potentially seeing her in such a compromising position.

Cory pulled a long slender wooden spoon from a nearby utensil jar and whacked her backside with it. “Yes here, and why don’t you hike up that dress while your at it. It looks nice and I won’t want to damage it.” Cory motioned upwards with the spoon at her waist level.

“Grrr,” Jules grumbled, but knew better than to disobey him. She had been the one to propose this situation a year ago as a way to help deal with her flaky attitude. He had been skeptical at first, and the initial sessions were more sexually frustrating than real punishments. Filling his apartment with smoke because she had forgot about a batch of cookies in the oven had provided him with enough motivation to really punish her. Things had improved drastically in their relationship, which would be culminated in a wedding in two months.

She bent at her waist and pulled the hem of her dress up until it rested around the top of her panties. She continued her downward trajectory until she firmly gripped the wire mesh shelf, about two feet from the floor.

“Ouch!” WACK! “Owe!” Cory peppered her bottom with the wooden spoon, spreading the wacks evenly around the nylon encapsulated globes. The fiery sensation in her bottom grew much quicker than normal, as the nylon seemed to trap the heat in her bottom. It was a new experience in their relationship, and one she would have preferred to read about than enjoy.

WACK! WACK! WACK! “Are you going to listen more closely next time?” Cory paused to grill her after a quick flurry of swats.

“Sniff, yes, I, will, listen, better,” she responded, trying to keep in the tears. Holding back the tears was a hard task with the intensity of the fire in her bottom. Each syllable she struggled to say the word, without breaking down. This focus caused her tone came across as much more flippant than contrite.

“Well from your tone, I see you haven’t learned anything yet,” Cory chided.

“No!” WACK! “OWE! WACK! WACK!

Cory gave her a dozen quick strokes on the lower edges of her bottom, poking out beneath the bikini cut panties. He was about to start lecturing her again when he felt a vibration coming from his pants pocket. It was the timer on his phone silently reminding him to head upstairs and get changed. He gave his handiwork a quick glance, admiring the bright red hue gracing his fiance’s sexy bottom. “Even a man of the cloth is still a man,” he thought to himself.

“I think that is enough for now, we can discuss this further after services are over,” Cory said turning away from her. He was more concerned about hiding the evidence of his impure thoughts than providing her with a little bit of privacy.

The relief by Jules was evident from her loud sigh. She knew this was a temporary reprieve and rearranged herself as quickly as possible to avoid any further discussion at this time. A little flick of her hair and a shake of her hips was all she really could do to make her look normal again.

She stepped forward, lightly brushing Cory’s hand, causing him flinch ever so slightly. He tried to hide the focus of his mind by kissing her lightly on the forehead, as he commonly did when she had done something special. The soft kiss sent a tingle down her spine, releasing the feelings which had been building since the spanking had begun in a semi-public location. The risk of getting caught had triggered feelings which were whole inappropriate for a chaste finance of a minister. “Even a woman of a man of a cloth is sill a woman,” she thought to herself as she gave her bottom a quick rub then followed Cory into the kitchen.

“I need to go get ready for service, you can stay down here and wash up all the dishes.” Cory told Jules, waving the  wooden spoon towards the sink overflowing with plates. He took a step towards the kitchen door, when he remembered the wooden spoon in his hands. He spun around and sat the utensil on the ledge above the sink, right were she would have to see it. “Oh, and lets leave this right here and a little reminder.”

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.

Willow Groove – The Pledges get Some Exercise

“Today we will start with learning the history of Sigma Epsilon Chi,” Sarah announced from the front of the dining room. “Afterwards we’ll get in a short workout before prepare lunch. After lunch we will go through the remaining history, practice a little then head over to the bookstore so you all can get your books. This evening we have some stuff with the actives.”

“Sigma Epsilon Chi was founded in 1912 by six of the first women to attend Myra College, as it was known then.” Every pledge listened intently to every word the pledge mistress spoke, yest the paddle make a surprise appearance on their rear end. “We are proud to have the daughter’s of the founder and first president among out founding members. Daisy Wingate, the daughter of Myra Founder, Joshua Wingate, and Alice Lee, the daughter of the first Myra President, Adam Lee, were joined by..” Sarah looked over the pledges to see 10 intense stares, but no writing. “Ah you may want to write this down, since you will be expected to know it by memory, and tested on it.” 10 pencils stared scribbling the information already provided. “I’ll start over…”

Sarah lectured the pledges for nearly an hour before allowing them to ask questions then a short break. The presentation had been perfected over the decades, so there were few questions and most were orientated understanding a particular fact.

“Any more questions?” Sarah scanned the disinterested faces one last time before moving on. “Good. Next up today is a nice little workout before you start preparing lunch. Kayla, how are we on time?”

“Five minutes ahead of schedule,” Kayla answered after comparing her clipboard and watch.

“You girls have 15 minutes to go get changed into something appropriate for some running around campus. Kayla and I will meet you downstairs in the common room. You’re dismissed,” Sarah added a wave of her hand implying the pledges should make haste in getting ready for some exercise.

“I didn’t think classes started until next week.” Jessica walked beside her new friend down to their room.

“Yea. It is amazing how much history there is in such a small amount of time though. I don’t think any of the big sororities back east have such extensive, or detailed records.” Amber remarked.

“It is the details I’m worried about.” Jessica instinctively rubbed her bottom.

“Me too. You notice they never mentioned anything about those rules of decorum.”

“I think they want us to screw up so they can paddle us.”

“As long as it isn’t you or me I’ll be happy.”

“Yea.”

“Are we going outside?” Madison asked holding up a pair of PINK shorts.

“Probably,” Jessica answered.

“What kind of workout can we do inside?” Rosa chimed in.

“I don’t wanta know,” Amber said, pulling out a sports bra and shorts from her dresser. The other girls chuckled, slipping into shorts, t-shirts and tennis shoes. They each hoped the outfit would be suitable for anything they would be put through, and not reprimanded for being improperly dressed.

“Hey, we got less than 3 minutes left,” Patty told the girls from the doorway.

“Thanx,” Amber called out as she returned her previous outfit to her closet. “I really need to keep track of time here,” she mumbled to herself.

“Good, everyone is on time, unlike this morning,” Sarah remarked at 10:30 sharp. “Though why are you all dressed like that when we are going swimming?” The synchronized and faces of horror were too much for Kayla to resist busting out laughing. Sarah smiled, “Just kidding. We going to jog a couple laps around campus, but first we need to stretch. Lets go up to the front yard.”

The pledges followed Sarah and Kayla outside then formed a semi circle in front of the two actives. The lack of the paddle in Kayla’s hands did not escape any of the pledge’s notice, putting them all a little more at ease.

“Did any of you run track in high school?” Sarah asked.

“I ran the 400 and 800,” Emily said.

“Good, you can lead the stretching and the run.”

Emily lead everyone through stretching out their core, quads, calves, buttocks and every other muscle she’d been taught to stretch before running in high school.

“That’s everything for stretching.”

“OK, we’ll do two laps around the edge of campus. Emily you can set the pace. Kayla and I will bring up the rear.” Sarah told the Emily before addressing rest of the pledges. “The rest of you do try to keep up. You don’t want to have a discussion about the lack of effort afterwards. Lead on!”

Eleven pairs of tennis shoes followed Emily on a trek around Myra. Down past the sorority house, around the back of Wingate hall, past the fraternity houses, and the cute boys working outside shirtless, then looping around Lee Manor and back towards the Sigma house. By the second lap, the girls became spread over twenty five yards from lead to Kayla and Sarah, with pairs generally forming to chat while running.

It was on this second lap where Amber realized how much she was out of shape. Her lungs burned, thighs ached and if it was not for the fear of the paddle, her pace would have been half of its current rate. Thought the paddle wasn’t looking so bad compared to pain she was already in.

The girls were coming up onto Lee Manor for the second time, when Jennifer stumbled slightly on the uneven ground, then tripped over her own feet while attempting to regain her balance. She took the tumble as well as she could, but still ended laying flat on the grass, with only her pride hurt. Liz kept running, while Patty, Meghan and Bridgette swerved to miss Jennifer.

“Hey, come on, we got to keep going,” Jessica extended a hand to Jennifer. Amber reached down and pulled with Jessica, up righting the blonde.

“Thanx,” Jennifer said, brushing herself off.

“Lets go, here comes Kayla and Sarah,” Amber urged the other two forward. Fiery lungs went away much faster than a fiery bottom.

The three girls tried to sprint to catch up, though Amber nor Jessica could maintain the vigorous pace for much more than a few seconds. Jennifer, in much better shape quickly out ran the other two, though slowed her pace when she realized they couldn’t keep up. She felt guilty at getting the other two girls so far behind. Even at the slowed pace, the all the pledges arrive back at the sigma house before either active.

“So how do you all feel? A nice good run to revitalize you!” Sarah walked around the girls sprawled out on the front lawn. “You’d better get used to it, because you’ll be doing that every morning.” A collective groan came from the pledges. “It is good everyone pushed themselves and kept a good pace the entire time. I am though disappointed about the incident with Ms Marshall.” Jennifer mistook Sarah’s pause as a moment to offer an apology.

“I’m so sorry. I stumbled and I’m why Jessica and Amber were so slow.” Jennifer pleaded.

Sarah smiled broadly. Maybe this girl was learning. “You falling and being helped up by your fellow pledges is not what I was referring to. Kayla, what is the fifth Rule of Decorum?”

“A sister shall always support her fellow sisters in their endeavors. Punished by 10 swats.” Kayla recited.

“And do you think the girls who ran past Jennifer were being supportive of their fellow pledge?” Sarah asked, rhetorically.

“No Pledge Mistress. Would you like me to fetch the paddle?” Kayla asked sardonically.

“Please not here!” Liz interrupted the little exchange.

“Are you interrupting me?” Sarah leered at the girl sitting on the grass.

“No ma’am,” Liz answered quietly.

“Good. Kayla, I think these pledges could use a shower first, they can take their punishment afterwards. No more laying around here, go get cleaned up.” Sarah clapped her hands, spurring the 8 seated girls to their feet and all of them down to the pledge quarters.

The ickyness of sweat cooling in the AC coupled with missing a shower in the morning was a little much for Amber. Even a quick one would be acceptable right now. She slipped off the workout clothes and wrapped herself in a towel before investigating the shower situation.

The shower section of community bathroom reminded Amber of a hospital ER, with shower stalls in place of the beds. Three removable shower heads lined the far wall, with curtain rails running in semi circles round each head in the ceiling. The shower curtains could then be pulled around the head to create a temporary private stall.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!” Kayla yelled when she walked into the shower area. Everyone stopped. “You don’t have time for all this modesty crap!” Kayla yanked open the first curtain, revealing a surprised Meghan. “Patty, Liz, strip and get in there now.” Two towels fell to the floor and a pair of nude co-eds joined their fellow pledge under the hot stream of water.

Kayla opened Bridgette’s curtain before commanding, “Madison, Rosa, get in!” A firm slap to Madison’s bare bottom was needed to help the shy girl into such close confines with two other naked girls. “Amber, Jessica, hop in the last one!”

Being caught naked in public was a repeating nightmare of Amber’s. The shower room was far from public and she had changed earlier in front of her roommates, but this was different. It felt more exposed. More open. More naked. Well the last point was correct, since she hadn’t taken her panties off earlier. Her fears or the paddle? The other girls could do it, could she?

“You have 10 minutes!” Kayla called out before leaving the shower area.

“Amber, come on!” Jessica whispered urgently from behind the curtain.

Amber took a deep breath, and told herself “I can do this. We are all girls.” A little flick of the wrist and towel’s protection was gone. Holding her shower caddy in front of herself, she slipped around the curtain of the last shower. The sight shocked her. Jessica stood under the water rising out her hair while Emily scrubbed her long legs with a luffa. Neither took much notice she was there, just kept going about their own routine, except in very close proximity to two other girls. She did not know what to do. She knew how to shower herself, but not like this. Not without a constant flow of water raining down upon her.

“Here you can have the water,” Jessica said slipping around behind. She brushed Amber’s back, startling the Asian girl.

Amber kept her back to the other girls while wetting her hair. It felt weird to her to be watching them. This was real life, not some cheesy porn movie. This is like a scene out of a porn movie. A bunch of hot sweaty college girls taking a shower together that gets sexual. The situation reminded her of back in Brooklyn, when Yuan had swiped that movie from her older brother and brought it to the slumber party.

A light tap on her side startled Amber from her day dream. “Hey let me rise off,” Emily said, urging Amber forward. Amber exchanged places with Emily pulled out her shampoo. The flower scent set her at ease. A little personal scape massage and Amber was finally relaxing, as much as she could. A dash of body wash on the luffa, then she looked down at the bodies of her shower mates for the first. Her hand rubbed the luffa over her body, but her eyes became fixed upon the torso of Jessica and Emily. The larger, flapper breasts of Jessica versus the smaller, toner pair on Emily. The darker skin tone of Emily hid the nipples compared to Jessica, though both girls’ nipple stuck straight forward instead of up and outward like her own breasts.

Amber started to move lower on her body, and theirs, when Emily said, “I’m done, its all yours.” Emily and Jessica switched places briefly before Emily left the stall.

Jessica wasted no time during her final rise and followed Emily a few seconds later. “You better hurry, we don’t have much time,” Jessica told her friend. The general commotion in the shower area told her Jessica was right. No sense having to face her fear and getting paddled. Water and her hands flew across her skin, rising away the shampoo and soap. A quick conditioning and she was done, and going for her towel.

“Patty, Liz, Meghan and Bridgette, leave your stuff here and line up in the common room, touching your toes!” Kayla instructed the girls as they started drying themselves. The four pledges followed Kayla into the common room, wearing only towels.

Amber didn’t hear what was being said, but the first swat echoed through the bathroom. She gathered up her stuff, exiting the bathroom as Sarah planted the first swat onto Liz’s bare bottom. This was the first time she had ever gotten an opportunity to actually observe a paddling, or spanking of any kind. Sarah moved back to Meghan, providing Amber a clear view of each reddening bottom. Liz’s cheeks were full of blues and reds from this morning’s paddling, while Patty’s and Bridgette’s were only a mild rose.

Amber took in the voyeuristic scene for a moment. The paddle raising high and flying down. The pop made upon contact. The wiggling of the recipient’s hips. The vulgar display of all her charms. The last part made Amber blush and turn away out of embarrassment. A good girl doesn’t look at such things, she told herself. But it was so tempting, so exciting, so naughty. She stole one long glance at the four naked bottoms, then scampered off to her room.

Six pledges clothed pledges looked upon their naked brethren’s red bottoms as Sarah finished up the punishment.

CRACK! “Waaaaa!” Liz sobbed as she received her tenth swat.

“I hope you have learned something about helping your fellow sisters. Sigma girls look after each other, at all times!” Sarah turned to the dressed pledges. “It’s now time to start preparing lunch. Lunch is sandwiches and salad, so nothing to hard. Here is a question, do you want your fellow pledges,” Sarah motioned to the four up turned girls, “to help or allow them a little rest while you prepare lunch?”

The pledges knew what that damn paddle felt like over clothing, and sympathetically agreed to allow the punished pledges out of helping with lunch.

“OK. Everyone upstairs. You four can stand facing the back wall of the dinning room while your fellow pledges prepare lunch.” The proclamation of nudity in front of more people earned Sarah four groans.

Willow Groove – Learning the Fourth Rule of Decorum

BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! Screeched the alarm throughout the pledge quarters. The 10 co-eds started to show life with the shift of blankets and a flying pillow. Barely 10 seconds after the beeping stopped the fluorescent lights flickered to life.

“GOOD MORNING PLEDGES!” yelled Kayla from the main room. “IT IS 6:00 AM RIGHT NOW AND YOU HAVE 15 MINUTES TO BE READY TO COOK BREAKFAST! PJS ARE ACCEPTABLE ATTIRE FOR BREAKFAST!” She then took a seat on the couch and waited for the circus to begin. She remember what it was like that first morning, trying to figure out a schedule, share a bathroom with a dozen other girls and do whatever the pledge mistress was expecting.

The fog of sleep clouded Amber’s mind. There were just the faintest of light coming through the window curtains, thought the fluorescent bulbs made it unnecessary. She closed her eyes and repeated the message in her head. “6:00am… 15 minutes..ready … cook breakfast…” All of a sudden she comprehended the message and bolted upright in bed. A quick search of her nightstand, and she slide her glasses on just in time to see Jessica have the same realization; they did not have much time to get ready.

Amber slipped out of bed and went straight for the bathroom. She realized luck was on her side as she took the last empty stall. This was the first time the implications of 3 stalls and 10 girls hit her. She couldn’t be lazy in the mornings. Relief came quickly. The sound of showers though indicated she might have made a poor choice. The question in the mornings was going to be toilet or shower. At least during pledge week.

—–

“Attention!, It is 6:15, WHY is there only EIGHT pledges ready to cook breakfast?” Sarah asked the pledges assembled in front of her.

“We are coming,” Jennifer yelled from her bedroom.

Kayla covered the 15 feet to Jennifer’s bedroom door in four smart strides, but paused at the doorway when Sarah caught her eye. She got the unspoken message loud and clear. With arms crossed and a wide stance, she watched over the two tardy girls like an impatient mother.

The remaining fidgeted about, waiting silently for the two girls. Every scenario went through each girl’s head. Were they going to be paddled? Were only Jennifer and Liz going to get it? What about some other humiliation? Cooking naked!? No one doubted that a paddling was going to occur, the question was who would be on the receiving end.

“We are ready,” Liz said sarcastically, “we can go cook breakfast now.” Liz and Jennifer took their places in line.

“I was hoping to wait until after breakfast for us to begin our lessons,” Sarah spoke as she walked down the row of pledges. “But I did not realize how eager you to learn.” She did a military about face. “Or how much teaching is needed before the lessons stick.” She paused in to the right of Jennifer and Liz. “Kayla, what is the fourth rule of decorum?”

“A sister is always prompt in her attendance and effort,” Kayla recited from memory.

“And the punishment?”

“Five plus one per lack of effort or attendance,” Kayla responded.

“Pledge Jennifer and Pledge Liz, have you broke rule number 4?” Sarah asked the pledges.

“We didn’t know,” Jennifer yawned.

“Yea..” Liz said.

“Attitude will get you no where. You both have already wasted 10 minutes of your time to prepare breakfast. I could give you each 15 for being late and another 10 for being disrespectful. But I don’t want to hold up the rest of the pledges any more so you each will get six, five plus 1 for being a minute late. Get over here and grab your ankles!” Sarah took half a step back and pointed to a spot in front of the door upstairs.

“Fine..” Jennifer mumbled as she sulked over to the indicated spot. The seriousness finally set in with Liz, causing her to be anxious about her predicament.

“The attitude will just get those panties around your ankles!” Sarah commanded. She took the pledge paddle from Kayla and promptly slide it under her left arm, allowing her to whisk both sets of pjs and panties down. The pledges saw some light red splotches were visible on both bare bottoms from the previous night’s paddling, but nothing to significant. Most wondered if their own bottom’s looked similar as Sarah wasted no time taking up position to the left of Jennifer and drawing the paddle all the way back.

CRACK! “Oouch!” Jennifer yelled out. The violence of the swat startled most of the pledges. The paddlings last night were nothing compared to right now. The fiery pain got to Jennifer quickly, causing her to instinctively start to get up to rub and protect her bottom.

“Stay down!” Sarah commanded moving over to Liz.

CRACK! “AAAHHHH!” Liz cried out as the equally hard swat found home.

Sarah turned to address the remaining pledges, “Now Kayla is going to take you upstairs to start preparing breakfast. On your way up, you each will give Jennifer or Liz a swat for making you late. And remember, if breakfast is not ready at 7:30 sharp, every one of you will be in their position.” Sarah then turned to Bridgette and handed over the paddle, “you’re first.”

One by one the pledges gave either Jennifer or Liz a hard swat across their quickly reddening bottoms. The swats where hard out fear of what Sarah would do if they took it easy on their fellow pledges rather than out of anger over being late. After they completed their task, the prompt pledges quickly took off upstairs, escaping Sarah’s wrath and hopefully being able to protect their own bottoms.

When the last pledge finished, Sarah took the paddle and stared at the handiwork. A dark maroon bulls-eye decorated the center of each ivory cheek looking at her atop a sobbing pledge. “Most of these pledges know how to swing a paddle,” she thought to herself. “Amber and Jessica seem inexperienced though, that can be corrected.”

“Pledges, have you learned the importance of being prompt?” Sarah asked.

“Yes ma’am,” the inverted girls mumbled in between sobs.

“Good. You each have one more coming then you can join your fellow pledges in the kitchen.” Sarah took aim at Liz’s sit spot, rubbing the paddle lightly over the bruised skin. A second later the paddle rose above the pledge mistress’ shoulder, then crashed down into the junction of bottom and thigh.

CRACK! “AAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Liz cried out, shaking her bottom about as much as she could without toppling over.

Sarah took a step back and repeated the devastating blow on Jennifer’s bottom. CRACK! “WWWWAAAAAAAAAA!” Jennifer cried between her hiccups.

“Ok, get upstairs and help with breakfast,” Sarah said, releasing the pledge. Both eased up and vigorously rubbed the fire down below for a few moments before reaching for their panties and PJ bottoms. “Ut hu, those stay right there on the floor until you sign the punishment log, after breakfast.” Both pledges let out a groan, but neither dared offer a complaint. They simply took off slowly upstairs in just a camisole and a t-shirt.

Even with 20 minutes less than normal, the pledges had breakfast ready with 2 minutes to spare. Two minutes that spared eight bottoms the paddle for another couple of hours.