Six thousand five hundred and forty minutes, over the limit

“Yes mom. Ok mom. I am right now,” Heather said into the phone. A few moments later she hung up her phone. “Hey, I got to get home.”

“It’s these soo cute?” Viola asked her friend, holding up a pair of high-cut panties.

“Yea, get them and lets go.” Heather dismissed the question then started chewing on her thumbnail.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Viola could see the anxiety in her friend.

“Nothing, my mom just wants me to come home now.”

“Ok,” Viola said with a shrug. “Let me pay for these. Oh then lets grab some FOYO before we go.”

Heather stopped chewing on her thumb long enough to bark, “No, I said NOW!”

“Fine, you don’t have to be a bitch about it,” Viola was surprised at the outburst. She was sure there was something wrong and she had to find out. Being the driver would provide some nice leverage against Heather.

The girls made their way through the mall crowds and out to Viola’s car without saying another word. A couple quick turns and they were on the interstate heading home. Normally, the highway was the fastest way to get back to the small town where the girls lived, but Viola was more interested in the second exit.

Heather was focusing so intensely on her chewing her thumbnail, she completely missed pulling the car into the rest area.

“Ok girl friend, tell me what’s wrong.” Viola damned as she turned the engine off.

“HEY!” Heather yelled, realizing the car wasn’t moving. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because you’re going to tell me what’s wrong!”

“I told you, it’s nothing! Please lets get going!”

“Bullshit!” Viola could see her friend was anxious and worried. Had it been a real emergency, she knew Heather would have told her everything. “We aren’t going anywhere until you tell me.”

“Grrr… Fine! My mom’s mad at me for running over my cell phone minutes.”

“Cell phone minutes. So what?”

“I was like a thousand minutes over.”

“Wow.” Viola chuckled a little bit. Her mother would be pissed if she had ever went over by that much also. She sensed there was something more though. Viola thought Heather’s nervous demure was disproportionate to the seriousness of the offense. “Ok, I’ll take you home.” Viola returned to the highway and fifteen quiet minutes later pulled into Heather’s driveway. She pitted Heather for having to still live at home, but being basically unemployed, her friend and no other option.

“Thanx,” Heather said, jumping out of the car as soon as it stopped.

Viola watched the blonde get all the way to the back door before reaching into the backseat and picking up the bag of clothes Heather had bought. She got out as the back door closed behind Heather. She took her time walking along the deck that wrapped around back of the house.

Pausing at the door, Viola could hear some yelling and then a little bit of commotion from inside. She tried peaking in the window adjacent to the door, but the curtains where pulled tightly shut. “Well here goes nothing,” she thought before knocking loudly.

She heard some voices inside then she could make out a figure approaching through the frosted glass door panes. She licked her lips as the figure reached the door. Any second she’d find out what was bothering

“Oh, hello Viola.” Heather’s mother said curtly after opening the door.

Viola almost dropped the bag of clothes. She couldn’t believe what she saw. Behind the woman and the kitchen, laid a girl with her panty covered bottom pointing straight at the door.

“Can I help you?” Mary asked her daughter’s friend impatiently. She needed to get dinner started and there still was the business with Heather to finish.

“So that’s why Heather was so mean.” Viola said to herself.

“Hu?” Mary asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing really. Heather just yelled at me after your call. She mentioned you were mad about the cell phone minutes, but nothing about, hmm, that.” Viola nodded to indicate the girl’s current position.

“She did, did she?” Mary pursed her lips while she thought for a moment. Lying to people outside of the house wasn’t strictly prohibited, but Viola was her daughter’s best friend, and it appeared she was mean about it also. Mary took a step backwards and motioning for the girl to enter. “Why don’t you come in and after my discussion with her I’m sure she’ll apologize.”

“MOM!” Heather screamed from the dinning room, “PLEASE NO!”

Mary closed the door behind Viola then lead the way into the dinning room. “Hush! You shouldn’t be mean to your friends just because you are in trouble!” She punctuated her remark with a swift swat to Heather’s bottom. Viola hadn’t even noticed the bamboo spoon Mary had been holding until it crashed into her friend’s backside.

“Ouch!” Heather cried in echo to the muffled clap.

Viola stood in the corner, covering her mouth as she watched her friend get spanked. She had the perfect vantage point to watch the spoon work its way across the panty covered bottom, earning wiggles and the occasional ouch from the owner. Viola wasn’t sure what to make of the scene playing out before her. She could tell Heather was dying of embarrassment, though she didn’t think the spanking looked that bad. It actually looked kind of pleasant, like when her boyfriend slapped her ass during sex. If this was a spanking, she kind of wished she’d been spanked instead of grounded.

“Ok, enough warmup. Lets get these down and start the main event.” Mary set the spoon on the table then reached for her daughter’s waist.

“Please let me keep them up!” Heather reached down her slides to grab her the waistband of her panties.

“Is your bottom not warmed up yet? I can keep going?”

“No, I mean yes, ah! Please let me keep them up while she’s here.”

“She is a woman just like you and I. Now let go or I’ll continue warming up your bottom!” Mary commanded, punctuated with a couple firm slaps of her open hand on her daughter’s bare thighs.

“OCUH!” Heather squealed, letting go of her waistband and attempting to reach her tighs. The table made it an impossible task.

Mary shucked the undergarment down the pink tushy and legs until it was inverted just above the girl’s knees. “Now these can stay here until we are done.”

Viola’s eyes grew larger at this revelations. Up to this point she had thought Heather was lucky to get spanked instead of the punishments she’d received growing up. Losing her phone or computer for a week had been torture to a teenager. With her friend’s panties down and round two ready to begin, she wasn’t quite so sure.

Mary brought spoon forward with a slight upward arc, catching the meeting of bottom and thigh. The sharpness of the spank caught Heather off guard.

“Ouch goddamn…” Heather realized the words that came out of her mouth a moment too late.

“What did you say?” Mary asked her daughter.

“Nothing,” the upturned girl mumbled. The response earned her smart spanks to each thigh. “Ouch, ouch!”

“Would you prefer more than your mouth washed out?” Mary asked.

Viola covered her mouth as her jaw fell again. Being spanked at 23 was embarrassing, but her friend got her mouth-soaped for swearing also. Wow, was all she could think.

“No, no, I’m sorry for swearing.” Heather pleaded, twisting her head and shoulders around in an attempt to show her mother her contrition.

“Then go get the ivory.” Mary instructed, slapping the pinkened bottom then pointing towards the front entryway.

Heather made awkward waddle through the house to the main bathroom while keeping her panties tightly around her knees.

“What did Heather say was the reason she was in trouble?” Mary asked the stunned Viola.

“Ah…ah that she went over her cell phone minutes by like a thousand or something.”

“Six thousand five hundred and forty minutes actually.”

“Wow,” Viola mumbled. The couple of times she’d went over her allotted minutes she’d lost her phone for a week or two, and that she had only been a hundred or so over. Six thousand! She would have never gotten her cell phone back. Though how did she use that many? “How?” she mumbled as the thoughts swirled in her head.

“She keeps falling asleep with Corey on the phone at night.” Mary answered before turning her back and watching the doorway for her offspring.

Heather returned holding a slightly used bar of ivory soap. Heather never looked up as she entered the dinning room, being more preoccupied with the awful white bar in her hand and keeping her panties at the appropriate height.

Viola, conversely couldn’t stop staring at her friend. It took Viola a couple moments to realize why Heather was carrying a bar of soap. She had read about a couple news stories involving parents washing their kids mouths out with soap, but didn’t think it really happened. Well at least it didn’t happen outside of those white trash households.

“Open!” Mary commanded after taking the soap.

“Please, I’m really sorry, I’ll never ghhhff!” Mary cut off her daughter’s pleas by shoving the white slab into her mouth.

“That will stay there until I am remove it. Now back over you go.” Mary waved the wooden spoon at the gagged girl before pointing towards the table. Heather gave up her protests and resumed her spot bent over the table.

Viola had seen a couple spankings before, but this was nothing like those erotic ones. Mary peppered the proliferated bottom with the spoon. Heather cried through the soap while wiggling her hips about and occasionally kicking a leg up. All this fuss just earned her a few swats to the back of her thighs and a hand on her lower back.

Mary didn’t stop until she thought her daughter had been soundly spanked, crying only tears of contrition.

“Ok baby, I think that is enough. You can get up now.”

It took Heather a moment to regain enough of her senses to push herself up, off the table. Once uprighted, her attention immediately focused on removing the pain below. She danced from foot to foot while attempting to rub out the blaze in her tush. Viola couldn’t help but snicker at her friend dancing around like her butt was on fire.

“Come on, to the sink,” Mary said, shooing her daughter towards the kitchen. It was all the prompting Heather needed, as she quickly scampered to the sink. She knew better than to remove the bar from her own mouth and waited diligently for her mom while keeping the rubbing going at high speed.

“Do you have anything to say?” Mary asked, pulling the drool covered ivory from the girl’s mouth.

“I’m sorry for going over my cell phone minutes mommy,” Heather cried and sputtered like she was closer to three than twenty-three. She finished with a couple of spits into the sink.

“And to Viola?”

“I’m sorry for being mean,” Heather replied in the same little voice. At her pause, Mary made a slight grunt, prompting “and for lying to you about my punishments.”

“Ok, you can rinse now.” Mary turned on the faucet. Heather didn’t even both using a cup, instead dunked her head sideways to fill her mouth with water before spitting it out. Mary let her repeat the motions 5 times before turning off the faucet.
“It’s ok baby. Your all forgiven. Now you two can go up to your room and play a little bit.”

Viola looked at Mary sideways. The last bit of her statement was highly unusual to be said to two adult women. It even slightly offended her, though with Heather already out of the kitchen and that spoon sitting next to Mary, she didn’t dare argue the point.

Heather pulled her friend into her room and closed the door behind the girls. She immediately spun her friend around, “Please don’t tell anyone!”

“I won’t.”

“Promise!”

“I promise..” Viola twisted her lips from side to side. She had so many questions, but couldn’t figure out how to break the ice.

“How much damage is there?” Heather said, turning her back to her closet door, and the full length mirror hanging on it.

“Its really bad,” Viola commented as her friend twisted her torso to look over her shoulder.

“Naw, this wasn’t so bad. I’m probably lucky you came back.” Heather ran a finger over the slight hints of a bruise.

“Lucky?” was all Viola could say as Heather started blabbering on about other spankings, close calls and how she was relieved that she had someone with whom to share her secret.

I will never swear in front of kids again

“Grpph ah haagh hhesss” I grumbled. It was supposed to be “God I hate this!” but a bar of ivory can make it tough to talk. The egg timer says 7 more minutes. Seven more minutes of hell. Or is it seven more minutes until hell? Either way, I shouldn’t be using the word hell. It’s linguistic brethren is the reason I am in this predicament.

Click, Click, Click, the timer slowly counted down to zero. This it totally my fault, and oddly appropriate. I just wish it wasn’t so agonizingly long.

Click, Click, Click. Stop mocking me. I can see your little mechanical eyes looking up at me as you tick the seconds away. You are mocking me. I know I have been naughty, but you don’t have to tease me about it.

Click, Click, BEEP! BEEP! The wait is up. My mouthsoaping is finally over.

“Ok sweety, this can come out now.” I am told from behind. I open my jaw as wide as it will go so his large musclar hands can remove the bar of soap from my mouth.

I immediately spit out suds into the sink. I got to get this taste out of my mouth. I turn on the facuet only to have my reprieve cut short.

“You can rise once, and only once,” he commands, sitting the bar on the soap stand. It has my teeth marks in it! How shameful.

I bend over the sink and let a large gulp of water fill my mouth. Swish, swish, swish, spit! It is still there and I think I made the taste worst. I can taste it everywhere now! Yuck!

“Come on sweety, over the bed you go for your spanking.” He turns me around, away from the sink and the water needed to get rid of this awful taste and towards the bedroom, where the well worn leather belt lies on the bed.

The spanking; the second part of my punishment. Why do I have to get both, my mouth washed out with soap AND a spanking? I guess I do know better than to swear, especially in front of a two year old who repeated it. But why the belt? I hate the belt. It really hurts. That is the reason it is called a punishment; a very undesirable consequence for a particular action.

He has to lead me to the bed. My feet may work, but I just can’t do it on my own. Soon enought, my knees are touching the footboard and I am looking at the instrument of my correction. It is going to hurt. “Lower your panties and bend over,” I am told. His voice is stern with a dash of regret. I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl. Reluctantly, I follow his instructions. I press forward slightly, trying to hide my front as I roll the boyshorts over my derriere. I like derriere and tushy over the traditional bottom, butt or cruder ass. Bottom just makes me feel like a little girl while butt and ass are just to uneducated.

The first breeze of cool night air on my newly exposed skin sends shivers up my spine. I feel naked and vulerable even though I still have a camisole on and only my tushy is exposed. Bending forward only exgerates the feeling. He has to be staring at my tushy. Its full, though well toned contours. The footboard, pressing into my hips from below tilts it upwards, at the perfect angle. Why do I have to have a four poster princess bed? It is situations like this I regret throwing that tantrum in the furniture store. Though I spent sometime in this exact position that evening and numerous times since. Every time has been just as embarassing.

“I think a couple dozen is appropriate, what do you think?”

“Yes, Sire,” I grumble before burying my face in the blankets. It will start soon and I don’t want anyone else to hear me getting spanked. That would be even more embarrassing than this.

“Good,” is all he says. I hear the belt being lifted off the bed. I clench up every muscle and wait, and wait. The seconds seem like hours. Why can’t he just start already?

And then he does. CRACK! The first stroke takes my breath away before the sting even registers. And registers it does. A strip of fiery sting cuts across my derriere. It is so much more intense than I remember.

CRACK! CRACK! He gives me only enough time between strokes to register the pain, but not really react. It hurts, so much. So very much.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I punch the bed a couple of times, trying to distract myself from the spanking.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I give up any resolve of strength and let myself cry out in agony. Cries that fall onto the deft ears of my comforter.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I try to kick the air but it just presses the footboard harder into my pelvis. The unrelenting fire keeps building.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Twisting and wiggling doesn’t help either. He just sets his left hand on the small of my back, pressing my pelvis firmly into the wood.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Every stroke hurts so much. I want it to stop now, but I know it won’t. I beg for mercy, though I doubt he even hears it.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Please stop, I’ll be good. I’ll never swear again. Please no more,” were the words I tried to cry out. Nothing inteligable escaped my lips or the blanket.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I have nothing more. No more protests, no more cries of mercy. Just acceptance and sobbing. I was a naughty and I am being punished for it.

Just like that it ends. No more strips of fiery sting cuting across my derriere. No more pain, no more spanking, just forgiveness.

He helps me up and I immediately hug him, burrying my face into his burly shoulder, sobbing.

He just holds me, comforting his contrite girl. Stroking my hair and back as he tries to sooth away the discomfort. And it works. The guilt and anxiety are all gone. Everything is alright now. Everything except the burning sensation in my tushy.

“I’m sorry honey, I’ll never, sniff, swear in front of our kids again,” I murmur in my husband’s ear.

“I know, I know.”

Repentance

“Fuck!” Grace mumbled.

I couldn’t believe she had just swore, and in church of all places. I’d warned her about her language twice already this week, but now it was time for action. I leaned over and whispered in my niece’s ear “we will be chatting about your language when we get home, young lady.” She just looked back at me with a slightly puzzled look on her face.

“You know calling me a young lady doesn’t make you any younger Aunt Beth,” she whispered back. Was she implying I was old? I’m only 36 for Christ’s shake! Oh great there she has me swearing in church now. At least it’s in my head and not out loud.

“Sorry Lord for taking your name in vain, especially today, on your day. Please give me the strength to deal with Grace and help her learn to be a respectable lady. Thank you for allowing her to come stay with me. I know it’ll be good for the both of us.” I prayed as Pastor Benson preached.

Church concluded and Grace and I made our way home where the first order of business was changing out of our Sunday bests and into something more relaxing. I wiggled into a pair of jeans and tossed on an old t-shirt and headed out out of my bedroom to do some yard work when I heard “Damn it!” come from Grace’s room.

Annoyance came back over me like a wave. I stepped back into my room then closed the door and leaned against it. I had to say something, but what? My sister had asked me to watch over Grace while she attend William and Mary, and at the time I eagerly agreed because I thought it’d be fun. I’d be like a mix of big sister and mom to Grace while she adjusted to college life. She’d only been here a week and I already didn’t know what to do! I know what my mother would’ve done had she caught Kate or I ever swearing, but that was twenty years ago. This is the twenty first century.

I opened door, heading for Grace’s room, hoping my natural ‘motherly’ instincts would take over and guide me in the discussion.

I knocked gently on Grace’s ajar door, pushing it open. Grace lay on her stomach, diagonally across her bed. Her feet waved back and forth in the air as she glanced at me over her laptop screen.

“YES?!”

“We need to talk, Grace.” I said as rounded the end of her bed and sat on the edge.

“If it’s about the church thingy, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Grace sassed without even looking up at me.

“It’s more than just the swearing. It’s…It’s…”

“Hu? what?!”

“It’s your attitude, behavior and complete lack of respect.”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothin wrong with my attitude or behavior.” Grace pushed herself up on her elbows so she could clearly see me. The more aggressive body language was not lost on me.

“You don’t see anything wrong with what you just said to me?”

“No?”

I sighed. “That’s the problem. Your mother asked me to look after you while you are going to college and help you out if need be.”

“Aunt Beth, I’m 18. I haven’t needed a babysitter in years,” Grace added to the dismissiveness of her response by tilting her head to the left.

“I don’t want to be your babysitter. But your attitude is very rude.” Grace spun around and got off her bed. “I know your mother raised you better than how you’ve been acting.” She turned her back to me and went over to her desk, shuffling through a few papers. “Grace if things are going to workout we both need to respect each other. That means you will need to improve your attitude.”

“Whatever!” Grace said shaking her head.

It is amazing how a single word can have such a transformational effect on people. The dismissive “whatever” was one of mine. I could feel by blood start to boil. Clenching my left fist I took a deep breath before reacting. I grabbed Grace’s right wrist and jerked her towards the hallway. She had had her back to me, so the sudden force spun her around and took her slightly off balance at the same time. I was not going to wait for anything, especially and possible resistance. Grace only regained her balance when I let go of her wrist in the bathroom.

The bar of Ivory soap next to the sink was relatively new so I splashed some water on it before turning to my niece.

“Open up!” I commanded. Grace just closed her lips even tighter while shaking her head. “Now or the time will be doubled!” She persisted so I slapped my left hand down onto the back of her tights. Her yelp gave me enough time to shove the bar between her lips and into place. “Bit down on it then bend over and grab the edge of the tub.” She went to remove the soap, but I caught her hand and pulled her over to the tub. A little leverage and she was bent forward in such an acquired position that her right hand had to hold her up otherwise she’d go crashing into the bathtub, face first. I’d have never allowed her to actually fall, but her body didn’t know it.

I hooked my thumb and ring finger under the back of Grace’s waistband, pulling her shorts and panties down in one motion until they were bunched up around the top of her tights.

“Anuugghhtt baattpphh bbooossssseee ggggoooo!” Grace cried.

I answered with a firm hand spank to her right cheek. Oh did it sting my palm. How did mothers ever spank their daughters for minutes on end without seriously hurting their hand. I never understood the phase “this is going to hurt me more than you” until that moment.

“Since you wouldn’t obey earlier, you’re getting 6 minutes with the soap in while I paddle you. I’m going to let go of your arm. Grab the tub and do not let go. If the soap comes out or you reach back, you’ll be experiencing the belt before bedtime.” I let go of her arm and picked up the timer that came with my electric tooth brush. It was designed to remind me when I’d brushed my teeth for long enough. Once the timer was set to 6 minutes I picked up the plastic bath scrub brush. It would be better than bruising my hand.

WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! I laid into her white globes as fast and as hard as I could. Grace started squiring from the first swat messing up my aim. I reached my left arm around her waist, pulling her tight against my hip to keep her wiggling down.

WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! I didn’t let up as her bottom turned from white through pink to crimson. My arm though did get tired, and quickly. The timer read 4:41 when I let go of her waist and took up position beside her. If I couldn’t keep up the feverous pace, I could at least make sure the last swats were extra hard.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!” Grace jumped up as the two handed swat took her low on her right cheek. Her hands came back to cover her boiling backside and rub out the fire.

“GRACE!” I yelled. She rubbed for a second longer before returning to holding onto the bathtub. Once her hands were back in place I took another hard swing at the same spot.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!” Grace jumped up again, grabbing her backside.

“Fine, you can get the belt later also!” I stated dryly. Grace quickly removed her hands and returned to position. I glanced at the timer, which read 5:37. Time for two more swats.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!” Grace shook her butt, but held onto the tub’s edge as I delivered a solid swat to her lower left cheek.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!”

“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” the timer went off.

“You can spit out the soap and rise now,” I told Grace as sat the brush on the counter. Her right hand went straight to her bottom while her left flipped on the faucet on it’s way back there. She spit the bar of soap into the sink then bent her head under the faucet to fill her mouth with water to rise. She would then spit and repeat, all the while furious rubbing her red bottom. I have to admit, it was one of the most comical scenes I’d ever seen. A half-naked 18 year old bent over a bathroom sink while drinking straight from the faucet.

Grace eventually switched to swishing the water around her mouth and finally gave up with getting the last bit of soapy taste out after a few minutes. She then look over to me, her red, swollen eyes still tear stained. I took her in my arms and hugged her tight against my chest.

Embraced until Grace’s composure had fully return. When I released her, she look up at me as said “I’m sorry Aunt Beth.” She reached down and picked up her shorts and panties before returning to her room, red cheeks looking back at me.

I stood there in the bathroom, still slightly shocked at the whole series of events which had just happened. I replayed the last 20 minutes in my mind until I reached the point where Grace was putting up a fuss then reached back. She had blantly disobeyed me and I’d told her that she would get an additional spanking because of it. I knew I had to follow through with it and be good to my word, so I left the bathroom for Grace’s room.

“AAH! Aunt Beth!” Grace screeched as I walked in. She had been standing in front of her mirror, looking at the state of her bottom. When she noticed me, she spun around, pulling the front over her shirt down to cover her privates while she reached for a pillow laying on her bed. I thought the whole jesture was comical, especially since I had just inflicted the redness she was admiring.

“As I mentioned earlier, you will be getting another spanking before bedtime since you wouldn’t cooperate earlier.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Until then, I’ll give you a choice; you can go downstairs right now and kneel in the corner until bedtime or you can put on a pair of shorts and come out and help me do some yard work. After we get done working we’ll have dinner and then you can finish your punishment. Which do you prefer?”

“Hmmm, I’ll help you.”

“Well get dress and come on. I’ll be out by the shed,” I said as I closed the door and left her room. We worked most of the day, and generally had a good time. The garden was weeded, shrubs trimmed and the water fountain was rebuilt. Every so often I’d see Grace grimacing and rubbing her bottom, but her attitude was polite and oddly cheery.

We finished and headed inside to get cleaned up and eat dinner as the sun started to get low in the sky. I made BBQ chicken while Grace made salad, mashed potatoes and cut up fresh cucumbers. Grace’s contemptuous attitude had returned with the setting sun and was clearly present when we finished dinner.

“Well that’s the last of the dishes. Why don’t you go on up and get ready for bed and I’ll be up in a couple of minutes to finish your punishment.” I stated as I placed the last of the leftovers in the fridge. Grace just wiped her hands then went straight upstairs.

I milled around the kitchen and living room for 10 minutes or so, to give Grace enough time to get ready. I headed first to my room, to get one of my belts before going to Grace’s room. While I was looking at my belts, I realized the only ones suitable for using for punishment where quite narrow. I selected a plain white leather one I’d had since college then went to find Grace.

I knocked on Grace’s door and heard ‘come in’ quietly through it. I opened the door to find a shocking site. Grace was bent over the foot-rail of her bed, wearing only a light blue, baby doll cut nightie. She’d placed wrapped one of the sashes from the curtains over her lower back keeping her stomach against the foot-rail. A couple of pillows laid under her body and her hands were grasped behind her neck so that her elbows rested on the bed.

“Aunt Beth, I’m sorry I interfered with my spanking earlier. Please spank me for it. I don’t think I can interfere this time, so be as harsh as you have to be,” Grace said from under her golden locks.

“I know Grace, I know. I’ll give you 18 with the belt then it’ll be all over honey,” I said as soothingly as possible.

“Ok,” Grace answered.

CRACK! “OOWWWEEE!” Grace cried out as the belt temporarily imparted a band of white across the pink spheres. She wiggled about some, but the sashes kept her in position.

CRACK! “YYYEEEKSSSS!” I felt my own bottom twitch as the belt bit into Grace’s bottom.

CRACK! “OOOUUCCCHHH!” It hurt having to spank Grace as such, but I consciously knew I had to do it. If I didn’t go through with my earlier promise, Grace would loose her respect for my word.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I brought the belt down over and over, enticing a yelp from Grace each time. Her bottom returned to it’s crimson red by the sixth stroke and Grace gave up yelping by the ninth and focused just on pleading for forgiveness.

“Snifff, I’mmm soo.” CRACK! “Ouuccchh rryyy auuunnntt beeaa.” CRACK! “OOWWWWEEE sniff beeaatthh.”

I stopped at stroke 12 to take a breath. “Grace, when your mom and I used to get the belt from your grandma, she’d place the last few strokes at the base of our bottoms. She said it’d help us remember our punishment whenever we sat down for the next week, and it was effective.” I took careful aim and let the first of the last six strokes fall.

CRACK! “WWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Grace cried out continuously as the first stroke landed and didn’t stop until well after the last stroke fell. She kicked her feet up and down, making the subsequent strokes a little more difficult to aim, but I was able to complete the task of, as mom used to put it, ‘tanning the young lady’s seat.’ I can still remember the three times it happened to me and the pain Grace must be feeling right now.

I waited a few moments after Grace stopped squirming about before untying the sash around her waist. I helped her up and she fell into my arms. She buried her tear streaked face into my chest. Her weight forced me backwards, into sitting on the edge of her bed. She slide right onto my lap, and cuddled up close. It was just like she was 8 instead of 18. I rocked back and forth gently, trying to soothe away her tears.

I did not realize Grace had stopped sobbing until I heard her start snoring. I must have sat there with her in my arms for half an hour.

I bent by left arm around behind me and pulled the blankets back without letting go of Grace. I twisted her around my body to my left, spraying the half naked girl out on her sheets. Two feet under the covers then completed tucking her in with a kiss to her forehead. Looking down at my niece, I remembered way Kate always referred to Grace as her little angel. Her blonde hair made a nice halo when she slept. Even though I hope today will not occur again, I doubt it. CLICK!