by Susan Thomas
"OK, Karen, it's time for your belt whipping. How many are you getting?"
"Twenty, dad."
"Is that fair, given what you were doing and your role in it?"
"Yes dad." Well there's no point in arguing at that stage.
I had to bend over the back of the sofa and mom sat down on the seat and held my shoulders. I was clearly going to be getting the whipping of a lifetime. Suddenly, there was a blow across my bottom and a huge crack sound seemed to fill the room. The line of pain that appeared on my bottom made me jolt violently and mom held me tight. Another crack and another burning line and I began to panic. That was only two and these licks were by far the worst dad had ever given me; how was I to take another eighteen? The third made me screech and jolt and mom held me tight, looking grim. The fourth which went low down made me screech louder and I began to cry.
The licks piled up and I know the neighbors must have thought dad was murdering me. I screeched and writhed as each lick was laid down across my well-spanked bottom. I promised faithfully to never do anything like that again. I begged for the whipping to end and I am ashamed of that, but it hurt big time. Each crack made me screech and jerk violently, and I could feel mom struggling to hold me over the sofa. I lost any awareness of how many I was getting or anything else other than that belt cracking down so hard on my bare bottom. Without mom I might well have got up or held my hands over my butt and so got even more licks.
When it ended, my bottom was one throbbing, burning mess of pain. I simply could not stand still even when mom was trying to wipe my nose and dry my tears. I just wriggled and jiggled on the spot and moved around trying vainly to ease my sore bum. When I was relatively still I was stuck back in the corner while dad got on the phone to check with other parents as to how they'd got on. All of us had been punished with a great deal of noise and pleading apparently. Not one of us had been stoic, and really I am not surprised. After the corner it was a very emotional time. I cried and apologized and they were kind and loving, and strangely I felt no resentment at all but just very close to them as if they were my real parents.
I was 'grounded' for the rest of that weekend but Saturday evening on Skype four very red-eyed and woebegone girls talked. I apologized for not stopping the plan. Janine apologized for getting so steamed up. In the end we agreed to a collective apology, and also amazingly agreed that we deserved to be spanked for having acted as we did. I spent most of the weekend on a cushion doing homework, but I also spent some time preparing for the student forum. I thought about the dress code which was mainly a whole load of negatives like the Ten Commandments, only trivial: thou shalt not a have skirt too short; thou shalt not have a skirt too tight; thou shalt not have a see-through blouse, and other stuff much the same. So I turned everything around to what do we want here at our school; a set of criteria that described what a student should wear to meet expectations. I also found some exemplar photos on the internet and stuck those in. I had no idea how that would go down but nothing ventured...
I was due to see Dave on Sunday afternoon but had to call it off. It was over a week before I went in his back door for a little of my 23-year-old time. Dave wanted to know why I had missed our meeting that Sunday so I told him. He laughed.
"What a typical Karen stunt. Well girl, you got exactly what you deserved."
"It's not typical, I sort of went along with it, the spanking hurt and some sympathy wouldn't go amiss."
"No sympathy from me Karen. This life suits you. I don't know why you chose it exactly but it's perfect for you. You are strong and strong-willed, and you most definitely need someone to be stronger and keep you in order. You seem to have chosen to go back to such a life where you are just a minor and your strong strict parents do just that. One day you'll need a strong husband to do the same job."
"Oh really and I suppose Mr. 'I am a big shot detective' sees himself in that role?"
"Yes," he said which infuriated me, and I got up to go home making some stroppy comments as I went. Dave grabbed hold of my arm and said, "Cool down," but I didn't want to cool down so I smacked him hard around his face. To my complete surprise, the next second I was staring down at the carpet as I had been hauled over his knees, and his hand began spanking my bottom hard. True I was wearing jeans and panties but Dave's hand turned out to be very good at spanking, and anyway I was outraged... how dare he! I let go a string of invective which did stop the spanking. Instead Dave grabbed me around the middle and hauled me protesting onto my side where he unsnapped my jeans and in spite of my protests and fighting got my jeans down and then my panties. Soon I was face down across his knees and the spanking started again, but this time on my bare bottom.
This fresh phase of spanking really hurt. He spanked just as hard as dad if not harder and I was outraged, how dare he do that. I fought, but he was way too strong for me and in the end I gave up fighting and lay there and took it, finally pleading to be let off. Oh the shame of it! When he stopped, I struggled to my feet and hauled my panties and jeans back up, tears streaming down my face, and then began staggering towards the door.
Now I am even more ashamed of what happened next. It is like it is out of some drippy movie from the 1930s or '40s, you know the sort you see on cable. He grabbed me again and began kissing me and I struggled, protesting, and then... and then I suddenly melted and began kissing him right back. I felt all weak in his strong arms and... yes it is quite ridiculous, isn't it? Me, Karen, a dopey heroine from some gushing romantic movie!
---oOo---
Luckily for me, there were no spankings at home waiting for me. What dad would have said on discovering my well-spanked behind I have no idea, but I shudder to think about it. My relationship with Dave entered a new phase after that which is hard to describe really. He told me that he was totally estranged from his parents. He had been expected to follow his father into the family law firm but had dropped out of law school and become a policeman instead. His family's anger (unbelievable really) was so strong he had moved away and they simply wouldn't communicate with him. He had now given up trying. I think I felt it was harder for him than for me. My parents were dead and hadn't wanted to get what befell them. His parents had a choice and they had chosen anger rather than love and understanding.
My encounter with Dave made me think about mom and dad and the fact that dad spanked her. I wasn't bothered about it as I could see they were very happy together and dad was never brutal with me...tough yes, but not brutal. Was I really like mom in wanting, or was that needing, a strong man to overcome my own strength and maybe even spank me? It is one huge thought, isn't it? I also started listening harder. My lights might go out at 10:30 but I wasn't necessarily asleep, whatever dad might think. I had often heard the creaking of their bed and the sounds of a couple making love. Had I been really sixteen and their daughter it might have embarrassed me. Instead I could hear that their marriage was working well and it was somehow a very secure feeling. Now that I was really listening, I sometimes heard the sounds of a spanking with suppressed cries and wondered what mom was getting spanked for. Once I worked out that she did get really stroppy with dad and, honestly, was quite rude. If I had spoken like that I would have been spanked, so that was probably it, but I never made any other connections.
Back at school, the student forum got underway, and to my surprise everyone, including our Principal Fagan, liked my idea of the guide to acceptable dress rather than a list of 'do not'. With very few amendments it was accepted and apparently even Miss Carpenter approved, though to see her face you would have been fooled. This had a difficult consequence for me. I was propelled into the forefront of student life which I didn't want to be. I was masquerading as younger and had no desire to be noticed. The local newspaper saw my photo in it more and more often, and I was terrified in case someone somewhere might see it who knew my real identity. Luckily, that never happened, though it was a constant worry.
Suddenly, I was seventeen. Well I wasn't really of course, I was twent
y-four, but my Karen Wheeler identity was. Mom and dad organized a party for me which was good fun though heavily chaperoned, and I received a lot of very nice presents which I hadn't had for a while. I could see that Mom was anxious, but I did enjoy myself and told her, and dad, that I'd had a good time and thanked them. Other parents viewed me as a good influence on their kids which I found amusing given I had never been viewed that way before.
When June came I didn't want to really be idle. I had work to do in order to keep up the standard I had reached so far, and I wanted to spend some time with mom. Maybe if I had really been seventeen I wouldn't have wanted to do that, but I was enjoying our rather strange mother-daughter relationship. I also wanted to go out with some friends, but I also wanted to work. Crazy I know with all my money, but it was also cover for my age deception. Katerina also needed a job so I took her with me, and we applied for jobs as part time waitresses at a decent restaurant.
The owner, a large fat man by the name of Mr. Pachis, wasn't too sure. "You girls are still at school. Is it OK with your parents?"
"Yes sir, it is."
"Well if I get a parent round tonight confirming it then OK, but you should take note I don't stand no nonsense. None."
Well Katerina's mom wasn't able to go but she said dad could speak for her, and he went round with us.
"OK, you vouch for them both but I know girls, they get smart mouths and attitude. I get any of that and they are out."
"You get any of that, Mr. Pachis, and you let me know. This is my card and if you tell me you've had attitude then I can assure you their butts will be roasting."
All went well at first. I already had experience of course, not that I told anyone, and Mr. Pachis was pleased. Katerina was a quick learner and had a nice way with her so Mr. Pachis was pleased with us both. Then one day some guys came in who had just left school that summer but hadn't yet gone on to either work or college. To say they were arrogant and obnoxious is to be kind, and they gave Katerina a hard time with their comments and demands. She handled it well, but the next day they were back and I tried to take over, but they were having none of it. I guess they sensed they couldn't push me around nut Mr. Pachis told me to leave her to it.
Suddenly, I saw Katerina jerk back with a little cry and go very red; one of the guys had stuck his hand up her skirt and 'goosed' her. I walked over and smacked him round the face hard. I thought I was being mild because I could have broken his nose. One of the guys stood up and grabbed Katerina's arm and said, "What are you complaining about slut. You're gagging for it." Katerina slapped him around the face... hard.
Mr. Pachis wasn't pleased with us or the guys. He kicked them out and banned them. "This is a respectable place and I don't want jerks like you in it." Then he took us out back and lectured us.
"You should have left that to me, I was on my way. I kicked them out. If you had wanted to bring charges against them I would have backed you, but slapping faces and causing a ruckus... I don't want that."
Katerina wanted the job and the money and asked if we were getting dismissed.
"I'm consulting with your parents and in the meantime get out there and do the job I pay you for. If you get any more hassle call for me."
It was nearly our finishing time when dad and Katerina's mom turned up. They'd both come straight from the business and went straight out back with Mr. Pachis. They were there until we finished and our relief waitresses came and took over. We were called into the office and my dad and Katerina's mom looked very stern. It was mainly me who got lectured but it was washed over Katerina too.
"There are good ways and bad ways to handle difficulties, Karen. That time you laid out the guy at the party from hell, that was an emergency response to a dangerous situation, and at that time was a good thing to do. This was not a good time to be hitting people. There were witnesses. Those guys could have faced charges but you handled it wrong and led Katerina to do it too. You girls are young so your lack of judgment is understandable but must be corrected."
I didn't like the sound of 'corrected' and I was right not to. The three of them had clearly agreed the price for us keeping our jobs... a spanked bottom every morning for a week before going to the restaurant. Katerina's mom would spank her and dad would spank me. They would send him a text to confirm it had been done. It wasn't fair, of course it wasn't. Katerina was the victim and we had just fought back, but nothing is ever fair when it comes to girls and the treatment they get from boys. A girl gets pregnant and what happens? She gets all the criticism and has to bear the child or have an abortion. He, on the other hand, has all his buddies thinking he is really cool. Still we had caused a ruckus in the restaurant and we could have handled it differently so we agreed to take our spankings.
That evening before I went to bed (no increase in my lights out time just because I was 'seventeen') dad instructed me, "When you put your waitress outfit on tomorrow morning, leave the panties off to begin with."
The uniform we wore was a black, short-sleeved dress with concealed studs to do up the blouse part. It had white trims and, as these things go, was smart. We were only allowed to wear bra and panties underneath, and had to provide simple black shoes to wear with it. Wearing only the thin dress with just a bra on felt really weird, and made me very aware of my bottom. I didn't feel much like breakfast but forced myself to, and when we were finished it was time for my spanking.
"Karen, you're a good girl, but you have to learn how to deal with situations and bringing Mr. Pachis' restaurant into disrepute was not right. You should have let him handle it. Now come over my lap, there's a good girl."
He had pulled his chair around and with mom standing watching, her arms crossed over her chest, I carefully eased myself over his lap. He moved me around a bit to get me in the right position and then pulled the dress up to expose my bottom. It was warm in the kitchen, but my bottom felt cold as he exposed it. I glanced up at mom before the spanking started and realized just how much she hated it when either of them had to spank me.
As usual, I gasped as his hand smacked down on my bare butt, and it was downhill after that. Dad is a real good spanker, he makes every smack of his hand count, and he spanks fast so it's hard to get your breath before another stinging smack lands. He spanked pretty much as he usually did, only perhaps for a shorter time. It made no difference, it still stung and burnt, and made my bottom and body writhe around on his lap. I began crying fairly early on. I'd given up trying to be brave about spanking. Spanking hurts, it's meant to so why pretend bravery.
Dad had always been kind after I was spanked but today was different. I wanted and needed something desperately I guess. Instead of simply getting up, I sort of threw myself at him and ended up sitting on his lap while squirming a little because of my sore bottom. I cried into him and wanted his arms around me and he held me and sort of even rocked me while stroking my hair. It took me a while to calm down and when I did it brought clarity with it. I realized I loved this couple. I know they were paid to look after the teenage girl I pretended to be, but they were putting heart and soul into it. I looked at mom and saw she was crying and realized that they had also come to love me.
The newfound clarity made me see something about myself. "You're right dad, I do overreact. I feel I have to be tough all the time and sort everything myself and I guess I don't. I need to let others help out too. I'll try much harder, honestly I will."
When I arrived at the restaurant, it was clear that Katerina had also been spanked, and it must have been obvious to Mr. Pachis, although he said nothing. Waiting tables with a hot sore bottom is not fun and it was worse knowing that whether we were on duty or not, we would be spanked another six mornings.
Each and every morning I had to do down to breakfast and immediately after it was over get spanked. Any time I was wearing my waitress uniform or a skirt I had to leave the panties off until after my spanking. That turned out to be Katerina's mom's idea. It was how she was brought up and I'll say one thing for it, it focu
sed our minds on making sure to keep things smooth in the restaurant. By the end of that week our bottoms were so sore we could barely sit, and we both howled our way through our last spanking. Comparing bottoms, we reckoned our spankings had been about even; Katerina's mom had not given her an easy ride.
I worried about Katerina given that she had been abused with her father's beatings, but she seemed able to compartmentalize. Her mom's spankings were righteous discipline. Her father had been abusive. That was it. The attitude of those guys wasn't right though. I asked around about them and learned that they assumed they had a right over girls. Any girl who wasn't interested in them was 'frigid' or a 'dyke'. Any girl who went with them was a 'slag' or a 'whore'. In that way no girl had any value in their eyes. I did think about having them investigated, but my week of spankings made me realize I can't fight everything and everybody, and sooner or later the cops would catch up with some of their other activities. I expect we will then see them weeping in court and pretending that they hadn't realized what they were doing. Not much they didn't.
It was over that summer that I began to know what it was I wanted to do. I was going to university to study child welfare and child protection. I mentioned this to Dave and he looked rather down and said, "I don't want to leave this town. I like it here. I feel at home and I am doing well in the police department." It made me realize I didn't want to be parted from Dave either, or mom and dad, so I looked at our local community college and found that they did courses in just what I wanted. Why not stay here? So although I had a year to go at high school I raised the question of what was to happen at the end of the year.
Mom and dad had already been talking about it. "Well Karen, we rather like this town and dad has been getting on well with the business. His only problem is he can't find out who really owns it but they seem to have a 'hands off' approach so really that isn't a major problem. I like it here too and have made friends. We don't own this house of course, but your lawyer rents it for us, and we could take the rent over and keep our other house or offer to buy it from the owners. So we'd like to stay." She looked anxious and as if she wanted to say much more but didn't know how.