218 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
218 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
Living in a small town had its benefits, of course. No smog, no traffic, a
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comfortable cost of living, and a sense of community in which neighbors
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looked after one another. On the other hand, 12-year-old Cynthia, often
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thought, this small town crap was just boring. Besides, if you got in
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trouble, everybody knew it, and you'd keep running into people you just
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hated.
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Not that Cynthia was getting in trouble a lot. She was a well-bred colt,
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active in extracurricular activities and in church groups. Cynthia was
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pretty much a creation of a Norman Rockwell painting -- about 5-foot-1,
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blue eyes, a dirty blonde ponytail and a well scrubbed face. She was also
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well behaved, in as much as Dad was a respectable businessman who actually
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had served on the City Council years ago and Mom stayed home to mind the
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kids while working occasionally as a legal administrative assistant.
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Basically, a normal kid going through the usual emotional turmoil
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befitting her age, plus a bit of pre-teen stupidity about which the
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psychology text books contained chapter after chapter.
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Mom was the disciplinarian in the household, on the few occasions when
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discipline was necessary. Her method was usually an icy glare, a few sharp
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words and, from time to time, a lengthy threat about the antique wooden
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hairbrush she used for keeping her own long black hair under control. Oh,
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there were a few spankings for Cindy and her younger brother, Eddie, along
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the way, but they were usually on-the-spot whacks to the seat of their
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pants that did more to injure their pride than their backsides. Only once,
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about three years ago, did Cindy incur Mom's wrath enough to incur a
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serious spanking, and that was for lying about who broke the cookie jar.
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In that instance, she blamed Eddie, but Mom knew the little boy could not
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possibly have reached it. That experience was enough for Cynthia, and she
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never lied (on purpose) again, remembering very clearly how horrible it
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was to have Mom pull her jeans down and smack her panties hard for about 5
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whole minutes, and right in front of Aunt Edna, too!
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This Sunday evening, Dad decided to take the family out for dinner at a
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nice restaurant on the edge of town. But Cynthia threw a tantrum, refusing
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to go because she so badly wanted to watch the Simpsons instead. At first,
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she requested to be excused, then demanded that she not have to go, then
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started yelling and crying about what rotten parents she had. When Mom
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told her firmly that she was about to find out what rotten parents they
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were, Cindy finally gave up.
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All the way in the car she was sullen, and as dinner proceeded, she was
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still cranky and impertinent when spoken to. She was squirming in her
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chair, rocking back on it, playing with her food and taunting Eddie about
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what items on the menu really meant. Mom tried to control this
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embarrassing behavior by shooting stern glares her daughter's way and by
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elbowing her in the ribs when she was getting out of line.
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While the family was waiting for the dessert menu, Cynthia started
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shooting little spitballs at Eddie, who ignored the teasing at first, then
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raised his hand toward her as a mock threat. Cynthia had not been watching
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him, and was so surprised at the threat that she tipped over backwards in
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her chair in a clatter, causing the two elderly women behind her to spill
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coffee all over the table and some on themselves.
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Mom had enough, and swung into action. "Where are you going, dear?" her
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implacable husband asked, as she pushed her chair back and jerked Cindy up
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from the floor like a rag doll. "We have an appointment in the ladies'
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room," she said firmly, and began marching her impudent daughter toward
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the back of the restaurant.
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Cindy was spluttering. "Mom, Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Where are
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we going," she said with apprehension, figuring she was going to have to
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have Mom clean up her dress and endure a sharp dressing down.
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Mom pushed the bathroom door open, noticed that it was empty and then told
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her daughter: "Young lady, I have had enough of you. It's bad enough the
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way you act in the privacy of our home, but now you are shaming us, and
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yourself, in public. And I intend to put an end to it right now!"
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"Whaddaya mean," Cynthia snarled. "What I mean is THIS," her mother
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replied, hustling her daughter to the red vinyl couch that furnished every
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ladies' room in America. In one motion, she sat down and pulled Cindy
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across her lap. Cindy couldn't believe what was happening! She could only
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gasp in terror as her normally mild-mannered mother scrunched up the white
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lace party dress and quickly whisked the girl's panties down, leaving her
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small pale bottom exposed across Mom's right leg.
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"You are getting a long overdue spanking, missy," she said, pulling out a
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hairbrush from her purse.
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"But I didn't do anything!!! Noooooo!!!! MMMMnnnggg!! Nooo, Mommy, Nooo!
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I'm sorry."
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It was far too late for that, but Cindy was lucky in a way. The brush was
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only a small purse-size implement, with a short handle and a blue plastic
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back with a curve down the middle that arrayed the plastic bristles in a
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semicircle.
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Cindy didn't feel lucky as Mom started in. WHAP WHAP SMACK!!! "There, you
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little brat!" SMACK WWWHAAPP POP WHACK!!! "You are going to behave in
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public from now on, young lady!"
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"Aaaaahhhh!!! Noooo!!!! EEENNNGGGG!!!," Cindy screamed through clenched
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teeth. "Owwwwwww!!! OUCH! Stopitmommystopit!"
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Mom kept it up, implanting cylindrical red splotches across Cindy's tender
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bottom. WHAP SPANK SMACK WHACK CRACK!!!
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Cynthia was losing control, and finally burst into tears when Mom told
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her, matter of factly, "This is what a rotten parent I am. And this is how
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you will be treated in the future when you sass back and disobey at home,
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too!" WHACK WHACK SMACCKKK!!!"
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Poor Cindy was losing control, flailing about so hard that her fuzzy
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little private place -- so private she had showed it to only two boys --
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was exposed under her dress. Although a loving and gentle woman, Mom was
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beginning to see the results of her handiwork and decided to lay it on so
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hard that her daughter would never misbehave in public again. Up and down
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her right wrist snapped. WHAP SMACK SMACK SMACK WHACK CRACK WHACK WHACK.
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Cindy was promising to be good, begging Mom to ease up, and she even
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promised to grow up and solve world hunger if only the paddling would
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stop.
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"I know this hurts you, Cynthia," Mom said through the gasps of her own
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exhaustion. "But I guarantee you will thank me for this in a couple of
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years." Cindy bit her lip so hard that the tears started stinging it. Mom
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was not yet done. SMACK WHACK WHACK CRACK CRACK.
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This was the worst licking Cindy would ever get, but instead of vowing to
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mend her ways, she was thinking of ways of murdering her mother. The ways
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multiplied in the next second as the ladies' room door swung open. The two
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older ladies, Thelma and Louise, had come in after paying their check to
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repair the damage that the little blonde brat had caused.
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Their jaws dropped in unison at the sight of the pretty mother spanking
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her lovely minx on the bare bottom, and with a hairbrush no less. "Oh,
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pardon us," said Louise. Mom looked up with disgust and motioned with her
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head for them to go away. Cindy felt doubly humiliated, triply humiliated
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actually when she saw the women. Louise was the town librarian and Thelma,
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that battleaxe, had been, before retirement last year, the assistant
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principal at the elementary school.
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Thelma, her gray hair tied in a severe bun, and her flower print
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couch-patterened dress, shushed Louise. "I think we ought watch, don't
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you. This little lass has had this coming a long time, I'll bet. I sure
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wish I could have paddled her butt all those times she was sent to my
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office!"
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At that, Mom met Thelma's eyes and said, "What do you mean? I didn't know
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Cynthia was any trouble!"
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"Well, you're mistaken, honey," Thelma replied sweetly. "Sure she was a
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good student, but a real hellion on the playground. I always thought it
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was a shame when the City Council, with her dad leading the way, voted to
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outlaw spanking at school."
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"I-I-I didn't know abbboutt that," Mom replied, delivering several sharp
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smacks to Cindy's reddening bottom. "Is that true, Cindy," she asked.
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From her position bent over the maternal lap, she was in a difficult
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position to begin with. "Well," demanded Mom. "I wan't an answer!"
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Cindy reluctantly nodded her head, spilling tears onto the couch cushion
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and onto the floor. "In that case, you have my apologies, ladies. And I
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think this is a perfect time for you make up for lost opportunities."
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Mom stood up suddenly, and Cindy fell sideways to the floor, her dress
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falling down to cover her backside. Hobbled by the panties spread inside
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out around her knees, she stumbled as she tried to stand and flee. But Mom
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grabbed her by the shoulder and moved her right in front of that evil,
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wicked witch, Thelma Henderson.
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"Apologize to Mrs. Henderson," Mom commanded. "I'm sorry," a meek and
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sobbing Cynthia managed to mumble.
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"Mrs. Henderson, Cynthia has promised to behave after we leave here, but
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maybe you would like to reinforce the lesson she is learning."
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"Indeed, I would," Thelma grinned. Mom let go of her daughter for just an
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instant before Mrs. Henderson turned the girl around, lifted the dress and
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began applying a very hard hand to her bottom. For an old lady, she sure
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could spank, and, in fact, she was starting to remember the switching she
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had once given a boy about Cynthia's age who, she now believed, turned out
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to be the girl's own father. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK!!! "You were a
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naughty girl at my school" SMACK SPANK SPANK and you should have been
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paddled before this."
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"Waaaahaaaaa Waaaahhhaaaa nnnnnggggwaaaa ooooooooo owwwwwww!!!" cried
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Cynthia, now plotting various methods of suicide rather than endure this
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public shame any longer.
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"Louise," offered Mrs. Henderson. "Speaking of overdue, maybe you should
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remind this brat about returning library books on time."
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"Gladly," replied Louise Becker, moving to take Thelma's spot. Louise,
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however, strong from shelving books for 40 years, bent the girl far over
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her left arm, put her foot between Cindy's dancing feet and spread the
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girls legs apart. Now the 12-year-olds fire-engine-red backside had even
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more area exposed for the spanking. The two women could not help but
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notice the downy golden fur sprouting on the opposite side of Cindy's
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bottom curve.
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Louise set about her command performance with a ringing SMMACCKK on
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Cindy's right cheek. Horribly, for the girl, Mrs. Becker let her palm rest
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there for a moment and dug in her two-inch red nails in a clawlike pinch
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to the brat's already mortified flesh. WWWHAACCKKK, she spanked on the
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left cheek, again digging in her nails.
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Cynthia was a mess, crying hard, her nose running, her chest heaving and
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her cute little backside trying unsuccessfully to clench against the the
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force of the beating. SMACK SPANK SPANK WHACK CRACK, Louise continued with
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relish.
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Finally, Mom quietly said, "Enough." Cynthia was bawling like a
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four-year-old. Mom pulled the panties back up and smoothed out the dress,
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guiding Cindy to the sink to help her wash the face that would pout no
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longer. As the two older ladies stood beaming with pride, Mom asked if
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they would like to join the family for dessert.
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"Oh, no," grinned Thelma. "We've just had our dessert."
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When Mom took her trembling and well-paddled daughter back through the
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swinging door to the main room of the restaurant, Cynthia nearly collapsed
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in a shame she would never live down until she moved to the big city. The
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entire room of diners, including some folks and kids she knew quite well,
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were on their feet applauding her Mom!
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