Subject: Brandi's Spanking - Part-1 (F/f, nc) fiction
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Hbrushed)
Date: 22 Aug 1998 09:08:20 -0700
Here is a work of fiction - completely made up from beginning to end. It is not suitable for children, and is not intended to be read by them. It concerns the paddling at school, and the subsequent spanking at home of a pre-teen girl. If this doesn't interest you, please delete it now. For the rest of you, please enjoy. Pease feel free to respond here, or by e-mail.
As bad as it was to get paddled, I'm afraid that this day isn't even half over for me. Well, I mean the day is more than half over, it is four o'clock after all, but I don't think that the worst parts of the day are over yet.
Part of me is mad - really, really mad. I can't believe that a stupid middle school really paddles sixth-graders - especially sixth-grade girls. I know we had to get something signed at the beginning of the year to let them paddle us, and I know that Mom signed it, but I really thought that it was all a big trick to scare us into behaving. I guess somebody should have told Miss Johnson that it was just a trick. Geez, it hurt, and it was just so embarrassing! I couldn't believe it when Miss Johnson told me and Doug and Kelli to go stand in the hall - I mean, like we really weren't that bad. And when she came out a few minutes later with that paddle in her hand, I almost wet myself!
She told us that we were each going to get paddled, and that we'd get two swats each. Then she told Dougie (she called him 'Douglas') that he would be first, and made Kelli and me put our noses against the wall so that we couldn't see. I was giggling when I put my nose on the wall, mostly because I was nervous and the wall was really cold on my nose, but also cause I thought it would be funny to see Dougie get paddled. I listened to her make Dougie bend over, and I wished I could see. The smack was terrible, and I heard Dougie yelp. Both me and Kelli spun around to see Doug rubbing the seat of his jeans, but Miss Johnson made us turn around again. The second smack was even louder, and Doug started to cry when he told her how sorry he was.
She made Doug put his nose against the wall right next to me, and then tapped me on my shoulder. "You're next, Miss O'Brien." I stood in the middle of the hall, already crying a little bit. If she hit me as hard as she hit Dougie, I knew I wouldn't be able to stand it, but I didn't think that she would paddle a girl as hard as she paddled a boy. I looked at my friends standing against the wall, and they looked sort of cute. Dougie was rubbing the seat of his pants with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with the other as he stood there crying. Kelli had both hands across the seat of her dress, like she was trying to protect her bottom from the paddle even though it wasn't her turn yet. As I looked at her bare legs and short dress I was ever so thankful that I was wearing pants for this.
Miss Johnson was young, and I always thought that she was so pretty, but as I looked at her standing there with a mad look on her face and with that little paddle in her hand, I thought that she looked like a mean old hag. She leaned me over and in a flash she smacked me with her paddle.
WOW, that hurt! I rubbed my rear and cried, and Miss Johnson told me to lean over again. I begged her not to smack me again, but she put her hand on my shoulder and kind of helped me to bend over again. Even before I was ready she swatted me again, even harder. I know she paddled me every bit as hard, if not harder than she smacked Dougie. I bet nobody ever paddled Miss Johnson that hard, or she would never have paddled me like that. I was crying and promising to be a good girl as she put me back against the wall and took Kelli onto the middle of the hall.
Both of Kelli's spanks sounded just as bad as mine were, and heaven knows how far up her dress slid as she bent over for them. She squealed, real loud, each time she got smacked, and I felt almost as bad for Kelli as I did for me. Miss Johnson turned us all around and lectured us for a few minutes. What a group of foolish little girls and a boy we must have looked as we rubbed our paddled rears and promised to be good forever. I think Kelli was crying the hardest, and I bet it was because her dress was thin and maybe rode up so that she got spanked with hardly anything on back there.
Miss Johnson let us stay out there until the end of class, which was only a few more minutes anyway, but at least we didn't have to go back in and get laughed at by the rest of the class. Miss Johnson told us that we had to stop by her room at the end of school, and she would have a note for each of our parents. She told us that we had to get them signed and bring them back tomorrow, or she would call them on the phone.
So now, I'm walking home from the bus stop, and this note from Miss Johnson is burning a hole in my book bag. It's in an envelope, and the envelope is sealed tight. In fancy writing, right on the front, "Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien." Kelli and I held them up to the light on the bus, but we still couldn't read anything.
I had decided to show mom the note as soon as I got home. This way, I figured, she could get over being mad and everything before Dad got home from work. She could yell, and probably ground me, and then she'd just say something to Dad like, "We've taken care of it, haven't we Brandi?" and, of course, I would agree.
When I handed the wrinkled envelope to Mom, I was just on the edge of tears. I mean, I wasn't really crying, but my eyes were pretty wet. She looked at me, and then at the envelope. She didn't even seem curious as she said, "There isn't good news in this envelope, is there, Brandi?" I shook my head and stared at my feet. She led me over to the kitchen table and as we sat down she said, "I think it would be better if you tell me what is in this envelope before I read it for myself."
Boy was I stuck. If I told more than what was in the envelope, I'd buy myself worse punishment. If I told too little, and Miss Johnson told everything, then I'd buy myself worse punishment, too. I guess, when all else fails, go with the truth - with just a little bit of exaggeration on the innocence side. So I cried, and confessed, and told mom that I had been paddled and why. I even got a little angry as I assured her that it was wrong of Miss Johnson to paddle us, but that track didn't seem to be leading anywhere.
After listening patiently to my sad saga, Mom opened the envelope and studied the letter. Carefully she folded it, and put it back inside the envelope. Boy, did I catch it then! Miss Johnson had told her about all of the stuff we did in school, and how this was just '...the straw that broke the camel's back.' As if anybody really uses that stupid old expression anymore. Mom lectured and scolded, and I cried and told her how sorry I was - and I really was sorry!
She asked a million questions. Did it hurt? (yes!) Did I have to hold my ankles or my knees? (just my knees - I'd have died to have to bend all the way over!) How big was the paddle? (Kinda little, but it felt real big!) Did it have holes in it? (No!!) Was there anyone else in the hall? (No, thank heaven.) Did I cry? (Just like a little girl.) Did I tell Miss Johnson that I was sorry? (A hundred times, but she didn't listen.)
Finally Mom settled down again, and things were uncomfortably quiet around the table. I decided to ask the question that had been burning in my mind since my paddling. "Mom?" I asked, so tentatively. "Mom? Um....so like, um...am I going to be grounded now?"
"Oh, no, young lady, you don't have to worry at all about being grounded. And I think you already know exactly how you are going to be punished, and that you have known it for six years now."
I paled, and my insides twisted into a knot! I couldn't believe my ears! Every year when school starts, mom makes a big deal about telling each of us that if we ever get spanked in school then we will be spanked at home. But she can't mean it today! I'm twelve years old! I'm in the Middle School now!!! I haven't been given a spanking since I was a little ten-year-old!!
I burst into tears as I whined, "Mommmm! You can't spank me! I'm too old for a spanking, Mom...please?"
"Until today, Miss Brandi Lynn, I would have agreed that you are too old to be spanked. But right now, young lady, I believe that a good spanking is just exactly what you need."
I bawled and carried on as I alternately begged and demanded that she not spank me. I think I actually made things worse for myself as I threw my little tantrum, because instead of showing her how mature I was and how bad I felt, I was acting just like a little six-year-old brat.
"Please, please, please, Mom...please don't spank me! My rear end already hurts and is so sore and I've really been punished, Mom, please???"
"Oh, yes, little one, you are going to be spanked. That is a certainty. In fact," she said, "There are only two questions remaining. The first question is if I will spank you, or if you will be turned over your father's knee for your spanking. Your father and I will answer this question once he gets home"
"Whaaa!" I interrupted. "Please, Mom! Daddy just can't spank me!! I know he won't, Mom!! I'm too old for that! He wouldn't spank me, Mom, I know he wouldn't!!"
"Oh my, Brandi. Don't even think of playing your little 'daddy's little girl' routine on me or on him. In just the last few months I have twice talked your father out of taking down your pants and spanking you. He has been saying that you are getting too big for your britches, and today I agree with him. Believe me, little lady, your father's hand is just itching to spank your bottom for you."
Mom got up, stood me up and then sat on my chair, holding me right in front of her. I was scared that she was going to spank me right then!
"The second question remaining is whether you get your spanking for this today or tomorrow. If Miss Johnson gave you a good paddling, and your bottom is as red and sore as you claim it is, then you will get your spanking tomorrow. Neither your father nor I will start a spanking on a red bottom, we will simply wait until tomorrow, and spank you after you get home from school. But if Miss Johnson just gave you a light paddling, as I suspect that she did, then little lady, you will get your spanking today. Now turn around and loosen your pants for me."
I just started to turn around when her words sunk in. "What, Mom?" I cried, "What are you going to do to me? What's going on, Mom?"
"I want you to turn around, young lady, and open your pants. I intend to see for myself just how handy Miss Johnson is with her paddle, and to do that I have to see your bottom."
"Whaaa!! Mommy!!! I'm too old for you to see me with my pants down, mom! You can't look at my bottom, Mom, I'm twelve years old!!!!"
"Listen to me, Miss Brandi Lynn. I am going to slip your pants just off your bottom to see how well you have been paddled, but you had better understand this - whether your father turns you over his knee or I put you on my lap to spank you, your little underpants will be taken all the way down to your knees for your spanking. If I were you, little lady, I would be more worried about having my bare bottom spanked than I would be about having my mother take a quick look at how red it is right now."
I was crying pretty hard, but I turned around and started to undo my pants. She must have been seeing right through me because as soon as I got my zipper pulled down she had her hands into my pants and underwear and tugged them right down over my rear.
I couldn't believe it! I thought she was only going to pull down my pants, but she pulled my panties right down too! She had my rear all bare with my pants and undies just over my bottom, and we were right in the kitchen. In a panic I reached back and pulled my pants right back up again. Just as soon as I got my pants back on, with a long wail of, "Mommy, noooo!" she grabbed the back of my pants and really gave them a yank, right down to my knees. "Don't push me, Brandi Lynn, or I will give you a good spanking right here and right now that has nothing to do with being paddled in school. "
The next minute or two were horrible. There I was, standing in the kitchen with my pants around my knees, and my undies pulled just barely down over my bottom in the back. I was holding the tiny front of my panties up as tightly as I could as she just sat there staring at me, and knowing full well that both of my little brothers were just upstairs and could come down the steps at any time. I mean, it wasn't like having my rear-end all bare at the doctors for a shot or to get my temperature taken or anything...or even being bare for a spanking. At least then there is a reason to have my backside sticking out. This was horrible just standing there with my panties sorta down and my bottom bare for her to just look at it. She even kinda twisted me back and forth a little so that my bare behind was in the light for her to see it better!
Finally she gave me a spank, right on my bare bottom. "Pull up your pants, Brandi, and set the table. I've seen what I need to see." It wasn't a really hard spank, but it stung anyhow, especially since she did it while my panties were still down in the back. As I pulled my underwear and pants back on I was dying to ask her when I'd get my spanking, but I was afraid to hear the answer so I didn't ask.
After I helped around the kitchen for a while, Dad got home, and Mom told me to go to my room until it was time for dinner. During my banishment I grabbed the hand mirror off my dresser, lowered my pants and underwear again, and studied my bottom just like Mom had done. I was surprised to see that, although my bottom still itched and tingled and felt warm, there wasn't much evidence of Miss Johnson's paddle. Each side of my lilly-white rear had just a small rectangle of pink - and a light pink at that! If this was all that Mom saw when she studied my rear, I knew that I'd get my spanking yet today.
Nothing was said about me at all during dinner. I did what I thought was the smartest thing, and kept quiet. My little brothers, Danny and Bobby chattered on about nothing, like they always do, so I just sat there sulking. I had no idea how bad an evening I had waiting for me.
As soon as everyone was done eating, Mom started up. "Daniel and Robert, I have something to tell you. Today little Miss Brandi finally pushed her science teacher too far, and ended up getting her bottom paddled by Miss Johnson." I stared at my plate with water in my eyes, but I could hear the snickers of my two little brothers. Why did she have to tell them? That wasn't fair, because now they'll giggle and tease me about it.
"Apparently she forgot that the rule in this family has always been that getting a spanking in school means another spanking at home. Either she forgot that rule, or she thought that it didn't apply to her, or she thought that her mischief would be so much fun that it would be worth being paddled and spanked. Whatever she thought, she was wrong. The rule does indeed apply to her, and no amount of fun mischief would be worth the spanking that she will receive.
"None of you has ever been spanked in school before, and I certainly never expect it to happen again. To make sure that you boys understand that you will in fact be spanked if you ever get paddled in school, I am going to spank Brandi Lynn right in the living room while you sit here in the kitchen and listen. You will hear each spank, and you will hear your sister cry as she gets her spanking. I will not permit you to see her being spanked since I will be taking down Brandi's underpants to spank her bare bottom."
I was pouring out the tears as she so frankly discussed my crime and the punishment that would result from it. And then to hear, for the second time, that I would be spanked bare bottomed was more that I could bear - especially to have her say that right in front of my two wide-eyed little brothers. Me getting spanked was a big thing for them - it always has been - especially with my panties pulled down. Maybe that's because I am older than they are, but most likely it is because I am a girl and they are boys. Well, that and the fact that they get spanked a lot more than me, and I always tease them unmercifully when they get spanked. Now I am going to get the spanking - right in the living room - and they are going to just sit here and listen! This is so much worse than just having them hear me getting spanked in my room - this is going to be so much worse!
"Bobby," she said, very quietly, "Go upstairs and get my hairbrush out of my dresser for me."
A look of pure astonishment appeard on Bobby's face, and his eyes were as big as saucers as he blurted out, "For spankin'??"
"Yes, Robert. I need the one that I use for spankings. It is in the top right drawer of my dresser. You know which one I want." Bobby shot out of the room, barely containing his giggles.
The hairbrush that caused such excitement in my nine year old brother brought out an equal amount of dread in me. The hairbrush. Although each of us had been spanked with it, it was a rarity. I bet that thing didn't leave her dresser more than two times a year, and now it was coming downstairs to be used on me - - and with my underpants taken down!
Bobby returned in a flash, bearing the hairbrush like it was some kind of trophy he won at a carnival. His eyes still hadn't gone back to normal size, but he wasn't snickering anymore either. Danny started to giggle out loud when he saw Bobby with the brush.
"There is nothing here to giggle about, Daniel," Dad said, "This is very serious, and your sister is about to learn just how serious it is, and how angry your mother and I are. Remember, young man, that this will happen to you too if you are ever spanked in school. Your underpants will be taken down and your bare bottom will be spanked with that hairbrush, just like Brandi will be getting."
That little lecture sure changed Danny's tone, and my ten year old brother nodded his understanding very soberly. This should have been a little triumph for me, but it wasn't. While Dad was scolding Danny, Mom took me by the hand and walked me to the door of the kitchen.
"You boys won't move out of those chairs until you are told that you may, and your father will be right here to be sure that you don't. If either of you even thinks about peeking in at your sister and me while she has her pants and panties pulled down, you will be the next one spanked tonight. I already have my hairbrush, and I assure you that I can pull down a pair of underpants and spank a little boy as easily as I can pull down Brandi's panties and spank a little girl. Am I understood?"
Everyone nodded their solemn understanding, and Mom led me out of the kitchen and up to the couch - holding my wrist in one hand, and her hairbrush in the other. I was bound and determined that my brothers might hear each spank as mom had promised, but they would not hear me bawling and crying. I would take this spanking without a peep, and not give them the satisfaction of hearing a twelve-year-old girl carrying on during her spanking.
As mom began to open my pants, I bit my lip and closed my eyes - I would not make a sound. Mom pulled my pants 'way down below my knees, and I was quietly crying. When she reached out to pull down my panties, my determination left me. "Please Mom! Not my underwear, please!" I squealed and begged at the top of my lungs, and I tried desperately to slap her hands away from my panties. "Please, Mom, not bare! Pleeease?!" In spite of my heroics, it didn't take her long before she had my little white bikinis around my knees, and was guiding me across her lap.
In my two year reprieve from being spanked I had forgotten how uncomfortable, awkward, embarrassing and juvenile a feeling it is to be turned over Mommy's knee with my panties down for a spanking. The air on my exposed bottom, and the rough texture of her skirt rubbing against my delicate bare skin on her lap made me so aware of my lack of underpants for this spanking. I clenched my bottom cheeks together and put my hand back to cover my bare bottom for both modesty and protection as Mom arranged me on her lap. When I felt her grab my wrist and slide it into the small of my back, and felt the steady weight back there as she firmly held my hand out of her way, I clamped my thighs together and started kicking my feet as energetically as I could with my pants and underpants tangled up down there.
She didn't even say 'get ready, get set, go!' or anything before I felt the terrible sting of her hairbrush land right across the middle of my bottom. WOW! I had not only forgotten how awkward it is to be over her knee to be spanked, I had forgotten the terrible burning of a hairbrush spanking on a girl's bare bottom! I had been hoping that the light pink rectangles on my bottom that she would see when she pulled down my underwear would make her take pity on me, and go softly with her spanks. Boy, was I ever wrong!
I didn't even remember that my brothers were listening from the kitchen when I started bawling at the top of my lungs and begging her to stop spanking me. The flurry of spanks was so fast that I couldn't even cry about the sting of one spank before the next one arrived. I squirmed and twisted as wildly as I could, frantically trying to move my bottom out of the reach of her stinging hairbrush, but Mom always found a sensitive and bare spot to land her brush. I howled and cried as loudly as I could, promising to be a good girl forever and never to be spanked in school again, but it had no effect on the speed or intensity of the hairbrush spanks landing on my poor little bottom.
I can only imagine the sounds that arrived in the kitchen, and the reactions of the three listeners. Dad was no doubt taking grim satisfaction that his 'too big for her britches' daughter was learning a lesson that can't be taught with her underpants on. Bobby and Danny were probably stifling hysterics as they heard their worldly big sister carrying on like a little girl and imagined the sight of their 12-year-old sister without her panties on as Mom gave her a good spanking.
I never remembered a spanking going on so long. I had heard (and even peeked at!) my little brothers being spanked, and heaven knows I had received enough spankings of my own to make me a spanking expert, but I never knew of a spanking that just went on and on like this one was doing. I bucked and squirmed and cried, but the hairbrush continued to spank. She seemed to randomly spank one side of my bottom, then the other - sometimes high on the top of my bottom, and sometimes low on my cheeks or high on my thighs. She spared no part of the spankable territory that she had exposed, but concentrated her attentions to the roundest parts of my bottom, sometimes even landing her hairbrush right across my little boundary-line to sting both sides of my poor bottom at the same time.
I was done apologizing and promising long before my spanking ended. I simply lay there sprawled across Mommy's lap, crying, kicking and squirming as the tears ran down my face. As the spanking continued and the brush kept spanking the same places that had been spanked just an instant before, the intensity of the burning of my rump was getting worse spank by spank by spank.
Finally it dawned on me that I was no longer being spanked. I don't know how long I had be lying there, still squirming after Mom had stopped spanking me, but I had suddenly realized that the spanking was over and that mom had let go of the hand that she had been pinning to my back. I took an extra minute to simply lay there and sob, gently running my hand across my punished bottom. My poor little rear had never stung me so badly before, and I no longer cared that I was in the juvenile and awkward position of being turned over her knee, and I no longer cared that I didn't have my panties on. I simply wanted to cry, so cry I did - and mightily.
With a gentle nudge from Mom, and a little help as she held me by my waist, I was finally returned to my feet. My pants were still at my ankles so I couldn't jump or dance as I would have liked to do, so I simply stood there clutching my spanked bottom and wriggling in place. I wanted so badly to tell my Mom that I would never be bad again - that she would never have to spank me again no matter how long I lived, but my voice had left me. That I stood there with my panties down, and the most bashful part of me clearly on display, trying to make words and trying to wipe my nose and brush the tears off my face wouldn't bother me until much later in the evening.
Mother reached out and retrieved my panties for me, pulling them up into place like I was incapable of doing it myself - and maybe I was. Following her lead, I reached for my pants. As I started pulling them up, she softly told me to go to my room, and that she would come up to see me in a little while. Without even taking the time to pull my pants the whole way on, I sped to my room and fell across my bed to have the good cry that my spanked bottom and injured dignity demanded of me.
About an hour later, Mom knocked gently on my bedroom door, and came into my room. She quietly closed the door behind her, sat next to me on my bed, and gave me a tight hug. As soon as she wrapped her arms around me, I started crying all over again. I cried on her shoulder and told her how sorry I was, and that I would never be bad again. My hard crying sort actually felt good as I blubbered and held her, and she softly patted me on my back and let me cry. This was a different sort of crying than I did while I was still over her knee. Then I was crying because my bottom had been well spanked and was on fire, but this was the hard crying of a penitent girl who was ashamed of herself, and so afraid that she might never be forgiven or loved again. Mom's tight embrace brought the comfort of knowing that even though I had been bad and that she had to spank my bare bottom, I was still her daughter and was still worthy of her love.
Once I had settled down again, we had a heart-to-heart, mother-daughter talk.
"I sure hope that we don't have to do that again, Brandi, but I think that we both learned today that you are not too old to be spanked. Whether that was your last spanking or not is entirely up to you and your behavior, but you need to understand that your father and I will not hesitate to take down your pants and spank you again if we have to."
I whimpered and nodded my understanding, and promised to be so good that there would never be a reason to spank me ever again.
"And, Brandi Lynn, if you ever get another spanking or paddling in school, we will replay this spanking all over again - with my hairbrush and with your underpants taken down - only it will be even longer and harder than this one was. And I mean it, Brandi...even if you are 18 and in the twelfth grade...if you get paddled in school I will take your panties down to your knees and spank your bare bottom again. Do you understand me, Brandi?"
"Yes, ma'am. But I never will be like that again, Mom, really! I'll never get paddled again."
I cried a little, and she held me again, and we talked a lot more. When she got up to leave, she put a sealed envelope on my desk. "Give this letter to Miss Johnson in school tomorrow, Brandi."
"What's it say, Mom?" I asked, nervous about what might be in the letter.
"It is just between Miss Johnson and me, you will not open that envelope. In the letter I told her that I am sorry that she had to paddle you today, but thanked her for paddling you instead of allowing your behavior to interfere with the other students learning, or letting your conduct go any further downhill. I also mentioned that I have given you a good reason to behave yourself for the rest of the year, but if she needs to paddle you again she may...as long as she lets me know that she has done so."
"Does it...um, like...did you put in there that I got a spanking?" I asked, tentatively and afraid of hearing the answer.
"Oh, no, honey. That is just between us here in the family. Miss Johnson never needs to know that you were spanked. I simply told her that you have been punished, and what conclusions she draws from that are simply that - her own conclusions."
Although the spanking was behind me (in more ways than one!) when I went to bed that night, the aftermath continued for several weeks. I met Dougie and Kelli on the bus in the morning, and all three of us confessed to how angry our parents had been, but none of us explored how we might have been punished. It seemed to me that Kelli squirmed a lot, and Dougie was much quieter than usual, but maybe I was just wanting to think that I wasn't the only one who got a spanking.
Naturally, I had to present Mom's letter to Miss Johnson, and I know I squirmed uncomfortably as she read it right in front of me. "I guess, from reading this letter, Brandi, that I will not have to paddle you again. I'm sorry that this had to happen in the first place, but I am glad that you intend to be a better student from now on. I'm also glad that your parents take this as seriously as I do. I'm anxious to meet them next week at the PTA meeting."
I also had to endure the constant taunting of my little brothers over the next few weeks. They developed quite a talent for mimicking me, and I had to hear endless replays of their renditions of my begging to keep my panties on, my pleading not to be spanked, and my squealing as I got my spanking. I always flushed with embarrassment when they carried on in delight with their little performances, but we got into a real fist fight when Danny actually smacked me on the rear and told me to bawl like a spanked baby. He only did that once, and I beat the snot out of him for it. Bobby never dared to do it at all.
They kept up their taunts until the day that Mom had to give them both a spanking. Something maternal welled up in me, though, and I didn't tease them at all. I gave them both good hugs later in the day, and told them how sorry I was that she had spanked them, especially with their underpants pulled down. Once we got through that day together, they quit teasing me about my spanking, and I quit teasing them about theirs.
Mom had told me that it was up to me and my behavior to determine whether that was my last spanking or not. So...was it my last spanking? Well, now, let me say that I was never paddled in school again. In fact, so convincing was my performance over Mom's lap that day that neither of my little brothers were ever paddled in school. I take some measure of pride in knowing that I participated in convincing them to behave in school, though I would have rather not been the one in the family to be the bad example. Yes, there were more spankings in our house - Dad gave some, and Mom gave some - some were given with underpants taken down, and some even with the hairbrush. But as for whether I was on the crying end of any of those spankings, well I think that Mom's answer was the best - that is something that should just be kept between us in the family.