From: hammersmith@aol.com (Adrian Hammersmith)
Subject: Across the Street
Date: 22 Jul 1994 22:05:29 GMT

Across the Street

"No, Daddy, no, please! Anything but a spanking!!"

Bob Norman had finally had enough of his daughter Ronnie's backtalk. All he wanted was a little respect, such as her showing up at time for dinner, not leaving her bicycle on the ground behind his car in the driveway, little things like that. Instead she reduced him to constantly nagging her about them, and he didn't like himself for sounding like that. But he knew it was really her fault for putting him in that position in the first place. So asking her and then nagging her didn't work, so fine. Let's see if a good long spanking over his knee would change her attitude.

He had just told her off in the living room and sent her upstairs to prepare herself for a spanking. She realized halfway through his lecture that his tone of voice and angry expression meant business this time... No more Mr. Nice Guy! Though she was half expecting the sentence of a spanking that came at the end of it all, she was hoping he wouldn't go that far. She really dreaded being punished by him in that way, and for very good reason.

First of all, when he came up to her room he would expect her to have the heavy straight backed chair placed in the middle of the floor, and for her to be kneeling on the floor beside it, with her jeans already pushed down to her knees. Even though she was now 17 years old, he still bared her bottom when he spanked her.

Just a month ago she had been given a good paddling right here in the living room. You'd think she'd have remembered that one; over the ottoman, her plaid skirt up high on her back, pulled completely out of the way of her trim, rounded backside. He made her reach back and tug down her panties herself, all the way down to her knees, where they rested a few inches above the tops of her white knee socks. She was already crying softly after this humiliation. He made her stay like that while he lectured her, her long brown hair brushing the floor on the other side of the ottoman as she pleaded for him not to use the paddle. How she pleaded for mercy when he finally picked it up and patted it right across the middle of her bared, upraised, vulnerable buttocks!

But then that foot long plywood implement with its large and small holes drilled through it was put into action; a good long 10 minute paddling that raised blisters all over Ronnie's bared bottom and thighs. She bucked and squirmed and sobbed throughout most of the ordeal. Mr. Miller laid on solid swat after swat on Ronnie's already crimson and swollen buttocks, especially the region overlapping the top of her thighs.

Ronnie ran up the stairs in tears after failing to overturn her sentence; once in her room she shudders to think of what is about to happen and is in dread of hearing her father's footsteps on the stairs. But she must prepare herself, and this includes drawing the straight-back chair from one wall to the middle of the floor, facing the windows. What comes next is still harder for her, ... she must bare herself for punishment. As she is wearing jeans at the moment, this means removing her shoes and jeans completely, leaving her with only her panties and socks on below the waist. She shivers more from the embarassment of this than the loss of warmth, and sits down on the bed to await her father.

When he comes into the room she renews her appeals for leniency. She comes up with several alternative ways that he could punish her, but all is in vain. Scowling, he seats himself in the chair and orders her to complete her preparations; at the same time he commences to roll up his right shirt sleeve. At this, the unfortunate step=daughter breaks down, as she knows what must come next. "Please, daddy, nooo", she implores, and she repeats this several times as she nonetheless gets up off the bed and goes to stand a few feet in front of him in the middle of the room. What she must do now is bare herself completely, before being allowed to go over his lap for a long and thorough hand=spanking!

She pleads with him through her tears and breaking voice to let her keep her underwear on, to spank her over her panties. "Please don't make me take them down, ohhhh, nooo, please, please, daddy!!" Her desperate appeal meets only with impatience and her father's threat to make it much worse for her if she did not get her panties down immediately! With a low groan, the girl turned to face away from him, and with a small sob, took hold of the elastic waistband of her low=cut cotton underpants and began to tug them down in back. Her full, pale backside gradually came into her father's view. Smooth and with a light peach=fuzz of downy hair on their surface, but covered now with goosebumps of shame and trepidation, it was truly beautiful. Ronnie tried to get away with lowering her underwear just in back, to just below her bottomcheeks, so as to leave it up enough in front to cover herself there. But her stepfather would have none of it, and told her to get them all the way down. Reluctantly and shamefacedly she obeyed, and the act of pushing down the material further down to her knees forced her to bend over all the more in front of her stepfather.

Ronnie was terribly humiliated to still be treated like a little girl, about to get a spanking over her daddy's knees. It reminded her of a spanking she had gotten a few months ago. She had gone on an interview for a summer job. She had thought she looked very grown up and professional in her rather tight black knit dress. She had gotten the job and gone out with some friends to celebrate. They lost track of the time and also she had more than her share of the pitcher of beer. Mr. Norman had been worried about her and then could smell the beer on her breath. The tight black dress had come right off, there in the living room. He was remembering that time too. It was the first time he realized that his little girl was becoming a woman. After he put Ronnie over his lap, there on the couch, wearing nothing but a bra and panties, he ignored her pleas and bared her bottom for her spanking. It was the first time he had bared her in three years. He was surprised by the suppleness of her skin, and the sense of utter vulnerability that her buttocks conveyed in their softness and pouting fullness down where they met her thighs.

Now here she was, about to get yet another spanking. Ronnie was blushing furiously, standing there with her shorts and panties down, being lectured by her father. Now that it was late summer, the white, protected skin of her bottom contrasted sharply with the deep tan of her back and legs. Then, sniffling, she turned, covering herself in front with her hands, and shuffled over to her stepfather's right side. She was clearly anxious to place herself across his lap in order to hide herself from his eyes, at least in front, so he made her wait a while there while he scolded her. As he did so he instructed her to hold her hands behind her, adding to her humiliation.

When she finally was bid to go over his knees, he made sure that she was placed in the most vulnerable position possible. He guided her across until her head was nearly touching the floor, and her hands had to push back on the rug to keep her balance. Her buttocks were thrust upward, jacknifing over his right thigh, and her toes just touched the floor on the other side. The slightly splayed cheeks were clenching off and on, trying to guess when the first smack would land.

Ronnie was crying softly in her embarassment and dreadful waiting for the punishment to begin. She continued to plead for mercy, with soft "please"s, "don't"s, "daddy"s, and "no"s in various combinations. When his left arm gripped her tightly around the waist, she knew it was finally coming and tensed her entire body. Ronnie had not forgotten how hard her father spanked, nor how long he always kept it up. "Please, daddy, no no no...", she wailed, just before the determined palm landed for the first time. From then on, as the spanking progressed with a steady pace, Ronnie found it difficult to gather breath for such entreaties. Her crying and yelps of pain took most of her air.

The smacks of her father's punishing hand on her full, round, and very bare bottom rang out in the bedroom. To describe the increasing redness of Ronnie's bottom, and how she squirmed across his lap, would certainly state the obvious. But there are some more abstract features of this spanking, which were also true of most of those that Ronnie received, which are worth noting. First and foremost is the fact that he spanked extremely hard. Ronnie had been spanked by her mother until she was 12, and she certainly had not enjoyed those spankings. But they were rather standard smackings that turned her pantied bottom pink, and usually lasted only a few minutes, with about 30 or so swats on the average. Her father, on the other hand, swung his arm down fast and hard in a high, wide arc, and put his strong wrist and forearm to use at the end of each smack. Ronnie's bottom became thoroughly pink after only 10 of these.

The second noteworthy feature was that her father always spanked for a long time, at least as it is measured when one is over a lap feeling one strong spank every second. He spanked for at least five minutes, and often longer. His steady one second pace did not let up until at least five minutes, and then he only took a short break to rest his arm and to scold Ronnie before starting up again. The very next spanking Ronnie received, 12 days after the one recounted here, lasted a full 11 minutes, with two breaks. It was not uncommon, therefore, for her to receive upwards of 400 of these solid smacks in a single session over her stepfather's knees. Needless to say, Ronnie struggled a great deal during a spanking session, until she is reduced to blubbering contrition and limp posture, draped over his lap sobbing uncontrollably.

The third important feature of his spankings is that he is very thorough. The entire area of Ronnie's bottom was attended to, actually from halfway between her bottom and her waist, excepting the area around her spine, down to mid-thigh on each leg, and including the area between the cheeks. The area left crimson at the end of the spanking reached from about a handswidth north of the cleft between the cheeks on both the left and right sides, across the entire bottom area and well around each side, and down each thigh including the inside area. For this latter agony, he held one thigh apart from the other with his left hand; in the same manner he spanked her between her bottom cheeks.

It is not hard to understand as a consequence why Ronnie was so afraid of her father's punishments. Her bottom when he was finally finished with it was a very bright red; indeed it seemed to be glowing red. It was not the kind of "reddened" bottom that you have to look at closely to notice the coloration. It stung fiercely with a sharp lancing pain, and glowed with its heat as Ronnie lay, sobbing convulsively, across her father's lap. He always waited until she could get up by herself, hurrying her along if she took too much time with a few additional smacks and scolding remarks.

The final distinguishing feature of Ronnie's spankings is, as you may have noticed, they were carried out in front of a second story window. When Ronnie started to prepare for a spanking, her first task was to move the chair to the middle of the room, and facing the windows. When she lowered her panties in front of her father, she was facing those same windows. And the entire scene as she was spanked was carried out facing the windows. Waiting for her father to show up to administer her first spanking, she had closed the windows and shut the curtains. Ronnie knew now to leave them open. Although her doing so earned her no more punishment than she would have received anyway, her father opened up the room after he entered it and angrily told her never to adjust the windows or curtains in the future when waiting for a spanking. Much as she wanted to, to hide the sounds that emanated from her room to the neighborhood outside, she did not dare risk it.

Her father's clear purpose in these steps was to add considerable humiliation to Ronnie's punishment. The open windows and curtains were meant to add to her shame by giving the spanking a public element. Other fathers have been known to take their sons and daughters out to the woodshed, and more recently out to the garage, and these situations are more apt to be noticed by neighborhood ears and eyes than are sessions held inside the house proper. Ronnie and her parents lived in a neighborhood where the houses were not on top of each other but were fairly close together. The sounds of her spankings were indeed heard by many in homes and yards nearby as a result of the open windows. Ronnie knew this must be so ... though she hoped against hope that no one heard ... and her father meant for her to know it.

What Ronnie did not know was that I could see her spankings as well as hear them, thanks to the open curtains. I lived across the street, directly across from their house, and as the street was not a major thoroughfare I was separated in distance from Ronnie's upstairs window by a matter of only 50 yards or so. I was a student boarder and had the front upstairs rooms; another student had the remaining rooms in the back of the floor. Such arrangements were fairly common in the neighborhood and all over town as well, with couples looking for some additional money and possible some company in their house after the children had gone.

Ronnie knew of my existence, from chance meetings outside on the steps or sidewalks, but she did not know exactly where in the house I lived. I chanced to be home studying when she received her first spanking from her father; I know it to be the first because it happened during our final exam period and I was home every night hard at the books; moreover, her mother and father had only been married for two weeks before the fateful evening. I noticed her father's angry tone, then Ronnie's odd closing of her bedroom windows and curtains at 7 o'clock on a warm June night, and then my attention was totally gained when the windows and curtains were thrown open and her father angry remonitions. I have not described that first spanking, for it was not carried out as were most of the others, Ronnie not yet having been instructed on how she was to prepare and behave while being spanked. Suffice it to say that she put up much more physical resistance, and more arguments against what he said he was about to do, but that he prevailed. On that occasion, he took down her shorts and panties himself after pulling her over his knee.

Ronnie sometimes felt more than his hand. Once, a few months after the spanking just described, she rebelled and refused to cooperate with her father in preparing for her punishment. In fact, she went so far as to leave the house and stayed away until well after dinnertime. I was sitting out on our front porch when I saw her return about 9 that night, going around to the back door. My guess is that she came in the back door to go directly to her mother's workroom in the basement, where she could usually be found after dinner. Ronnie evidently hoped to enlist her mother's aid in her desperate attempt to no longer be spanked as a method of discipline. She was now over 19, and was no less fearful of those spankings than she was following the first. But her mother, far from having any sympathy with her, positively backed her husband's mode of discipline. It will be said in Ronnie's favor that she was at heart a good and obedient daughter, and so it was that she allowed herself to be led upstairs at her mother's command. I was by this time back in my room, at the window, and here I witnessed her mother leading her by the arm up to the living room, which was directly below Ronnie's bedroom. Here her father sat waiting, with more of a disappointed than an angry look on his face ... and there on the table next to him was a paddle.

Again, I trust to your imagination with having this scene come to life; Ronnie's tears and pleas were as usual present, perhaps even greater apprehension after the sight of the paddle ... but the novel elements will be described. The paddle was a standard ping pong paddle from the game table in the basement. Instead of being told to prepare herself, Ronnie was specifically instructed to remove her skirt. The paddling was carried out with her mother present, and was, as usual, on the bare. Her father did not use the paddle from the start, but first carried out a rather thorough handspanking for several minutes before bringing the paddle into play. Unfortunately for my heroine, he did not swing it any less forcefully than he used his hand, nor for any less time. On this occasion blisters were produced. Ronnie yelled from the first swat; its sting I imagaine was a level above that even of his hand, and she quickly lost her composure under the duress of the lengthy paddling.