Sweet Sixteen Swats – Spanket

I must apologize for the absence of posts recently. I got stuck fixing a set of problems at work which left little to no free time. I know the tournament is over, but I did get a few moments to record some notes as things progressed, and now will build upon those notes to finish the series. Spanket starts with Joining the Competition.

March 24th, 12:02pm

Jessie had received the email from Diane an hour ago, but only just got the chance to read it. And reread it. And reread it again. Now she had just scrolled down to the table of current scores in the center of the message.

“Ladies,

The first weekend is the books and some of us are going better than others.

The current scores are:
Alice – 30 pts with a possible score of 86 pts
Julie – 30 pts with a possible score of 126 pts
Rebecca – 35 pts with a possible score of 83 pts
Jessie – 44 pts with a possible score of 124 pts
Ethel – 44 pts with a possible score of 152 pts
Diane – 45 pts with a possible score of 157 pts

Remember, if you want to trade scores with someone else, both ladies need to email me stating they want to switch.

Enjoy the break in action, well basketball action. I know I will 🙂

Diane”

“What to do, what to do?” she mumbled to herself. She had been thinking of this question for a day and a half, since the hangover faded on Saturday afternoon. It had taken all her muster to stay behaved while such a momentous question hanged over her head. After Arizona clinced a birth in the sweet sixteen, Nate had asked her an innocent enough request, but her snarky response had nearly upended her. He had cut off his disapproving stare with a few well placed kisses and a quickie on the kitchen counter.

Yesterday she came to the conclusion that if she was far behind, she would bite the bullet and take a quick spanking now to prevent a more involved event later on. She also decided if she was in the lead she would try her hand at being on top, if the situation presented itself. But what about now? She had not prepared for being in the middle, with a good current score, but a poor potential score. What should she do?

“I know, go out to lunch or stay at your desk, such a hard decision.”

Jessie jumped at the sound of her coworker’s voice behind her. In a flash she flipped over her phone and tried to act nonchalant as she turned around. The sudden interuption had sent a spike of adreline through her body, now she could feel her heart pound way below her bra. She immediately though the mousey Mary had seen over her shoulder and seen everything. Or even worst, she hadn’t been talking to herself IN her head.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary apologized, bowing slightly to hide the blush crossing her cheeks as she retreated from the cubicle.

The demure stature freaked Jessie out. She thought Mary must have heard everything and knew her dirty little secret, and now was trying to excuse herself from the awkward situation. “It’s not what you think,” Jessie blurted out before she could really think through the situation.

The unexpected response caused Mary to pause at the cubicle doorway. “Hu?”

Jessie saw question spread across her coworker’s face. This was her out chance to escape, with miminal additional embarassment. “What did you say?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to go to lunch? What,” Mary answered.

“Oh yes,” Jessie accepted, cutting off Mary. Grabbing her purse, she fled her desk, hoping the open space of the lobby would divert attention to a new topic.

The four simple words caused her to fret all day, and into the drive home. What should she do?

Texting cometh before the spanking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“like 100k” Becky messaged.

“Damn.”

“Yea, McGarretts paying for Europe!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shes goin die!”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thank you sir!” Chris said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I have something in mind.”

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“50 across her panties.”

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

“22 on your bare bottom will be adequate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Spilled Coffee

Yesterday afternoon I was filling up the coffeemaker and notice I had not spilled a single drop when filling the reservoir.  Quite a little accomplishment, even if I have to say so myself, since most of the time there is a small puddle on the counter which I have to wipe up before starting the appliance.

Waiting for the pot to fill, my mind started to wander. First to spilling the water and not wiping it up, which obviously led to a naughty secretary and it was all down hill from there. I have heard of some strange reasons leading to a spanking, but spilling water while refilling the coffeemaker and not cleaning it up would definitely be one of the kookiest. Admitting why you got spanked would be worst than the embarrassment of the spanking itself.

Now spilling coffee and leaving those little brown circles splattered across the counter is a different issue. Coffee is quite obvious when spilled and it it just pure laziness or disrespect for one’s coworkers when it is not cleaned up.

So the question today is, what is the kookiest reason you have known of which lead to a hot bottom?

New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part III

This is the conclusion to New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part I and New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part II.

I was too much of a crying mess to realize what happened next, but this is what I believe happened. After Bethany had calmed down, and was convinced by Jake of the joke it was, she trekked upstairs to find Adam and I, hoping to cool any argument we might be having. Hearing a commotion in the bathroom, she instinctively went to investigate, pushing open the cracked bathroom door to discover a startling scene.

Bethany froze while her brain tried to comprehend the sight we presented her. I was wiggling over Adam’s lap, bare from my belly button to my toes. My hair had fallen forward, creating a blonde curtain shrouding my face when it wasn’t joining my legs in dancing along to the beat of the brush.

“Ah, sorry,” Bethany shuddered backing away from the doorway. Up to this point, Adam nor I had even realized she was standing there. Adam must have paused his work to address her, because the fire in my bottom seemed to stabilize for a moment. Before , then I felt a hand on my shoulder

“No, it’s ok.” I tried to articulate through the tears. Bethany must not have heard me because she kept trying to help me up. “Bethany, please, go,” I said a little more clearly, waving my right hand towards her knees. Didn’t she understand what was going on? I saw her and Jake in the same position a few months ago. Oddly, the exact same position.

“No, I’ll help you.” Bethany took a hold of my hand waving about and tried pulling me up.

“You do not understand, she does not need any help.” Adam told her calmly.

“Shut up and let her up.” Bethany poked her finger into Adam’s chest before trying to help me off his lap again.

What was she doing? This was between Adam and I. “Bethany, It’s OK! Please go, NOW!” I all but yelled at her. This got her attention, causing her to turn and storm out of the bathroom. What had gotten into her?

Adam didn’t allow me to ponder this question for very long, and simply return to work on my bottom once she was gone. And he is excellent at his work, fore the first swat instantly refocused my attention exactly where he wanted it.

Adam returned me to the sobbing mess that I had been when Bethany interrupted before he stood me up. I doubt it took more than a handful of swats, even if it felt like a couple dozen. He said something to me, probably about apologizing or such,
but I had other concerns presently on my mind. When my hands first touched my bottom I swear my fingers could feel the heat radiating off the surface. I even tried to wave some cool air on it but settled on just trying to rub out the fire.

I rubbed and rubbed, my mind focused squarely on my derriere until Adam broke my concentration by wrapping his big muscular arms around me in a protective embrace. With a strong heat below, I could feel all the tension, guilt and other negative emotions melt away in his arms. I was in a blissful state of nirvana. We stood there, me rubbing away the sting while Adam hugged me for an eternity.

Adam let go, slipping his hands towards my shoulders and holding me far enough that he could look down into my eyes. “You should go talk to Bethany.”

“I know,” I sniffled through the tears which still filled my eyes.

“Why don’t you spend a few moments up here and then when you are ready come down and speak with her?” Adam half asked, half instructed me as he wiped a tear from my cheek.

“OK,” I mumbled. He scooped up my clothes and grabbed the tissue box from the vanity and directed me into the bedroom. He led me straight to the king size bed, sitting my clothes and handing me a tissue from the box. It felt good to blow the snot from my nose, even if I was still crying some.

Adam kissed me gently on the forehead then said, “I’ll see you downstairs. I love you.”

“OK,” I mumbled before watching my husband turn leave the master bedroom, closing the door behind him. I held out until I heard the click of the latch, then the flood of tears overwhelmed me. I collapsed face down onto the bed, one arm covering my face while the other rubbed my bottom. The comforter and my tears helped blur the world into a dark abyss.

—-

“Honey, honey, hey sleepy head. Happy New Year!” Adam smiled at me as I regained my senses. I blinked away the sleep from my eyes just in time to see him come in for kiss. His gentle lips sucked away my breath, sending a tingle throughout my body. What a wonderful way to wake up.

Adam left me to return to the pool table were the other guys were waiting on him to shoot. Looking around, the first thing I comprehended was the TV on across the basement from me showed the celebration going on in Times Square.

I glanced to my left to see the girls curled up on the love-seat watching the TV. The movement of my head must have caught Bethany’s eye since she looked straight back at me. Her lips started to fidget as she starred back. I could tell she was trying to avoid smirking at me, but her lips were not listening to well.

My eyes shot away, and I started to blush. “Damn it, she saw everything,” I thought. “How am I going to explain it? Well, would I even have too? She was spanked by Jake after all. Maybe she just understood?” My mind was being obscured by a hundred questions. I needed to think clearly so I sat up and gave my head s gentle shake.

Instantly the fog parted and one thought was left; something was wrong. I was sitting there on the couch and I didn’t feel quite right. It was like something was missing. I shifted slightly and then it hit me; my bottom wasn’t sore. It didn’t have any of the warm tingle feeling you get an hour or so afterwards, there was nothing. It felt like I hadn’t been spanked in days, let along an hour ago.

“Has Adam ever tell you that you talk in your sleep?” Bethany said, letting a broad grin span from ear to ear.

“No,” I mumbled and my cheeks started to catch fire.

“Well you do, a lot, and it was quite interesting.” Brittney added quietly before bursting out into a giggle.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret,” Bethany whispered.

The rest of the night all I could think about was “what had I said?” I way to embarrassed to ask, but I doubt it was good.

New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part II

The story begins with New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part I.

It took me a week to make it up to Adam. I knew I really loved him and couldn’t let me leave me. Or rather, I couldn’t let myself push him away. I used every trick in Cosmo, and by the end of the weekend things were finally good again.

That was years ago, and the whole night had been totally out of character for me. I am no longer that naive girl. I am a mature, professional woman now. And if I only have a single Margarita, I should be OK. I just have to be careful. Or at least not careless.

“So do you want original or I have mango?” Brittney asked, holding up a green and yellow bottle of premade margarita mix.

“Ah, lets try mango.” I replied, trying to sound confident, through I am sure my voice gave away my hesitation. I watched her mix the ingredients in the blender, telling myself I would be ok. I knew I was wrong when the yellow iciness touched my lips. It felt so cold yet warming. Invigorating really.

I slide the glass a reasonable distance in front of me as I tried to hold off taking a second sip. I could only have one and the night was still young. Brittney started going on about their Christmas festivities, which helped distract me from the golden ice. Focusing on her really helped me forget about the margarita, so much so, that I took a second, long sip without thinking about it.

Bethany and Jake arrived as we finished our first glass. Well, actually I finished my first glass. Brittney still had half of her glass left. I wish it was because she was talking most of the time, but truthfully I just downed mine. The second sip burned through every resolution I had made to control my intake of tequila. I enjoyed the sweet nectar dancing across my lips as the icy shards tickled my tongue. It was a winter wonderland for my mouth.

Bethany joined us in the kitchen as Jake went downstairs to join the guys. Glasses were refilled as Bethany asked Britney about some family gossip. I didn’t really care what they were talking about, so long as my glass wasn’t empty.

“You know what we need, MUSIC!” I proclaimed, downing the last gulp of my second margarita.

“Yea!” Bethany and Brittney echoed. Brittney dug out a portable iPod player from the kitchen desk nook as Bethany dug into her purse for her iPod.

“Lets use my iPod. You have horrible taste in music,” Bethany proclaimed sliding her iPod along the counter.

Brittney smirked back, “You just don’t know good music when you hear it.”

“That hillbilly twang stuff is good music?” Bethany shot back playfully.

“Oh just admit you like it. I know you root for team Blake.”

“So, he’s the only hot one on the show.”

I watched the playful banter between sisters evolve I became jealous this time at being left out. I felt this growing urge to add something, anything. I just didn’t know what to add. I was an only child and Adam only had two younger brothers so I felt out of place dealing with a sister. I don’t know why, but I suddenly just shouted, “I’m on team Blake too!”

The kitchen went absolutely silent. Britney and Bethany just stared at me, unsure what to make of my outburst. I could feel their eyes burning holes into my cheeks as I started blushing. Luckily, the tequila saved me, and I suddenly burst out into a giggle, which the sisters quickly joined me in.

With music in the background, the small talk started flowing quickly, with our mixed drinks keeping pace. Where were finishing up the first bottle of premade mix when the conversation started to to get adult orientated.

“That’s like those Cosmo articles on 27 tips for better sex.” Britney remarked.

“Hey! I those articles,” Bethany retorted.

“Just because you have no creativity doesn’t make them good,” Britney replied.

“Ah, everyone gots to have their porn,” I quipped with a tight lipped smile.

“They are not porn!” Bethany shot back, completely ignoring her sister’s slight.

“Sure…” I giggled.

“So what kind of porn do you like?” Brittney asked me, her voice laced with sarcastic mischief.

Had I actually thought before speaking, I would have known that this would be a follow up question. Every L-1 knows not to ask a question that you are not prepared to answer yourself. My professors were sure to drive that point home every chance they got. It went well with the point of do not ask a question for which you do not already know the answer.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Bethany mocked, tipping her glass at her older sister.

I responded with a low growl and a squinting nose. “No, I prefer the erotic type.”

“What a lame answer. I knew you were just a prude.” Bethany laughed.

“I am not!” I blurted out, even though it was a complete lie. I just happen to like things simpler. It is more romantic that way.

“BUULLLLSHITT! I bet you only like missionary and with the lights out!” Bethany laughed.

“I do not! I’ll have you know that Adam and I have sex with the lights on.” I replied as I stood and place my hands on my hips. I was trying to act determined, but the huge grin across my face would not go away. Britney burst out giggling first and Bethany and I were close behind.

We were still giggling when Rick had the nerve to interrupt our girl talk. “Ah, where is the extra dip?” Rick asked from the kitchen doorway. The three of us gals hushed up instantly, causing Rick to slowly look over us. I am sure we looked like we had just been caught in the act of some mischief.

“Oh, we’ll bring it down in a moment, honey,” Britney finally broke the silence.

Rick let out a long sigh before leaving with an, “OK.”

As soon as he turned his back well all covered our mouths, trying to suppress our giggles. He had almost caught us talking about porn, of all things.

We made another pitcher of Margaritas and took it, tortilla chips and the dip down to join the guys downstairs. I had not intended in staying down there for very long, I was just curious as to what they guys were doing. Somehow one thing led to another and Britney put on music over by the pool table.

With a drink in one hand and a good beat filling the room, there was only one thing to do. I tried pulling Adam up to dance with me, but he was more interested in the XBox. All the guys were more interested in the video game than us girls, so we just started dancing without them.

One the second song, Britney noticed Bethany was just standing there while we danced, so she reached out and grabbed her sister’s wrists. A slight pull and Bethany was next to us with Brittney hugging onto her. “Sis, Jake doesn’t seem to approve you standing off like that!” Britney said into her ear.

Bethany opened her mouth to respond, but paused for a moment. Britney took this as a non-response and swung her hand out, and slapped it firmly onto Bethany’s bottom.

“Owe” Bethany cried out, trying to wiggle away from her older sister.

“Oh com’on have some fun!”

“No, let go,” Bethany whined as she wiggled her shoulders about.

A stroke of genius came across me at that moment. Bethany had poked fun at me for being a prude, I now had an opportunity to show how much of a prude she really is. I took a half step sideways so that I was directly next to her. She was still worried about Britney’s bear hug and didn’t even realize when I took hold of her skirt’s zipper. One quick tug and the garment was a pile at her feet. “Who’s the prude now?” I giggled, taking a step back.

“AHH!” Bethany squealed.

Instantly everyone attention was focused on the skirt-less Bethany. Britney let go of her, allowing her to take a couple tangled steps backwards. She quickly covered her front while bending over a little bit. She made a few awkward steps sideways and backwards, trying to cover herself from the guys, though giving me a clear view of her booty. I don’t know what she was trying to hide, because the pink thong did not cover much, especially on the back.

Beyond Bethany, I could tell the guys all had different reactions to my little joke. Rick chuckled a little and tried to hide his amusement. Jake has started to blush a little, probably out of embarrassment at being turned out at his fiance’s embarrassment.

Adam expression through scared me. He clearly looked pissed and he did not make me wait long to find out how mad he was. Once Bethany was redressed, Adam got up and made a beeline for me. The next thing I know, we were halfway up the stairs to the second floor. He checked a couple of doors, finding one locked, a messy guest room in the second and settled for the master bedroom. He paused for a moment at the bed, then continued through the bedroom and into the attached bathroom. He unceremoniously sat on the edge of the bathtub, positioning me in front of his knees.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, looking down at my sock covered toes. It felt like I needed to say something.00

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, it’s Bethany,” Adam growled.

“I know,” I mumbled.

“You know? You know? Why did you do such a childish thing!”

“I don’t know. I..I…I…sigh. She called me a prude and I, hmm, wanted, hmm, to show her I wasn’t.”

“What! You pulled down her skirt because she called you a prude!”

“Hmmm, I guess,” I mumbled.

“Well, I guess you just earned yourself a spanking!” I knew it was coming ever since I saw his expression, but I wasn’t quite prepared when he flipped me over his lap so that all I could see was the white tile floor.

“Ah! Adam! No!”

SMACK! The intensity at which that first swat burned into by bottom surprised me. Adam had picked up the bathbrush laying next to the tub and started immediately with it. My short experience with Adam’s spankings had not prepared me for the shock that wooden brush of hell delivered. I can still remember those first few swats as if it happened a moment ago. The crisp sting of the initial contact followed by a deep, expansive burn, reaching all the way through my hips. It was a new kind of awful I never want to feel again, but then another swat would arrive.