Subject: Story: Mom's Best Friend-Part 4
From: "carolinajim" <>
Date: 16 Dec 1997 18:46:26 -0800

Mom's Best Friend-

One more part to go...

All the usual disclaimers apply

F/f, nc, parental, no sex

Hope you enjoy it! Jim

MOM'S BEST FRIEND Part 4 By Carolina Jim

"Time to get up, Linda. You don't want to be late for school." The sleepy 17-year-old, finding herself in the unfamiliar position of sleeping on her stomach, looked over her shoulder. "OK, Mom. I'll be down in a few minutes."

While Sue went about the tasks of waking Peggy and Marsha, Linda turned over and sat on the edge of the bed. OUCH!!! She sprang to her feet, vivid images of her spanking yesterday afternoon flooding her memory. Both hands shot down the back of her pajama bottoms. "Ohhhh...", Linda moaned as both her hands caressed the bruised, once smooth cheeks of her behind, "this is going to be a long day..."

Down the hall, a half-awake Marsha dragged herself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Linda's door was open as she passed by, and the 14-year-old looked in. What she saw woke her all the way up in a hurry. Her sister, with her back towards her and wearing only a bra, was stepping into her panties. Marsha had to cover her mouth to hide a gasp when she saw the condition of Linda's bottom. It was well-marked and still a little swollen, and she could see the outlines of the hairbrush on her thighs. "I hope that never happens to me...", she thought as she continued on her way.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then Sue would have had to lecture for years and years to get across to Marsha what that fleeting glimpse of Linda's spanked backside did in a few seconds. While Marsha's behavior improved noticeably after Peggy's spanking, the change after Linda's was remarkable. Polite, respectful, obedient; she was now exactly like her sisters in those regards. So much so that Sue thought the hairbrush just might have warmed its last bottom. But, alas, teenagers being teenagers, it was not to be. In November of 1969, after a two and a half year vacation, Mom's best friend was summoned for duty one final time...

That Friday night was a special one for Sue and Peggy. When the girls entered high school, Sue made a promise to take them out to dinner and a movie each time they made straight A's. Well, the previous Wednesday, Peggy's report card had nothing but A's on it. It was especially satisfying for both, as Peggy had raised her average in Science from a C. As a reward, she'd be seeing "Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid" that evening.

There would be no restaurant or movie for Marsha that evening, however, and it wasn't because she didn't make all A's. The 16-year-old was grounded because she stayed out an hour past her curfew last weekend. She very nearly got the hairbrush when she got home, but since it was a "first offense", Sue decided to put her on restriction instead.

The grounding, while by far more preferable to a spanking, did put a crimp in Marsha's plans. Mary Jo Ziegler's parents were going out of town that night, and Mary Jo was having a party. Until Peggy brought home her report card, Marsha harbored no thoughts of being able to go. Now, with her sister and mother going out and Linda away at college, there was at least a chance she could show up for a little while.

"What time do you think you'll be home tonight, Mom?", Marsha asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as Sue and Peggy put on their coats. "Well, we're going to the seven o'clock movie, so I guess it'll end around nine or so. I guess we'll be back about nine-thirty.", Sue replied. "Why?" Marsha shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I don't know.", she answered innocently. "Just curious."

Sue finished buttoning her coat, and she and Peggy headed for the door. "Now, don't forget. You're grounded, Marsha.", she warned. "I trust you not to leave this house."

"I know...", the teen answered with a sigh. "I won't. Have a good time." Alone, Marsha plopped down on the couch. Why did her mother have to use the word "trust"? If it was to make her feel guilty about sneaking out, it was working. "Why did she have to say that!", the confused girl said out loud. "Now I don't know whether to go or not..."

The confusion ended, for better or worse, an hour later. She had just about decided to stay home when Mary Jo called up to make sure she was going. "I don't think so...", Marsha told her.

"But Tim's coming...", the voice on the other end said. The magic words. "He is!", Marsha screamed before catching hold of herself. "I mean, he is? Well, maybe I can make it over for a little while..." Marsha hung up the phone and ran upstairs to her room, Sue's words completely forgotten. After putting on the tightest pair of jeans she owned, she went to mom's bedroom and the dresser. Out came a wool sweater. Her mother wore a smaller size, and what fit Sue perfectly was awfully tight on Marsha. And that's the way she wanted it. As she slipped the sweater over her head, the hairbrush on top of the dresser caught her eye. Little did she know...

Sue, hearing the phone ringing inside the house, fumbled with the key. "Why doesn't your sister answer it!", she mumbled just before opening the front door and running inside. "Hello?...Yes, this is Susan Turner...Oh my God... is she all right?...Yes, I'll be right there."

"What's the matter!", Peggy screeched, seeing the deep lines of concern on her mother's face. "What's wrong!"

Sue rubbed her forehead and took a breath. "It's Marsha. She's at the police station. I have to go down there and get her. I'll be back as soon as I can."

A trip that usually took twenty minutes was made in half that. Sue walked into the station only to find a dozen or so other parents, some that she knew and all wearing the same grim expressions, milling about. "Pardon me,", she said to the officer at the desk, "I got a call that my daughter's here. Marsha Turner."

The officer checked his clipboard and motioned to another policeman. "This is Mrs. Turner."

The other officer held out his hand. "How do you do, Mrs. Turner. My name is Officer Wallace. May I have a word with you?" Without waiting for a reply, he led Sue into a room with only a table and chairs. "Have a seat, please." Sue was nearly beside herself. "What's going on? Is my daughter in trouble?" Officer Wallace sat down across from her. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be so gruff with you. Let me explain why your daughter is here. We received a complaint tonight about a loud party in progress at the Ziegler residence. Are you familiar with with them?"

"Yes, slightly. My daughter and theirs are friends.", Sue said in a wavering voice.

"When we got there,", the officer continued, "we found about twenty teenagers and no adults. There were a few drinking alcohol, which we confiscated. We also discovered one of the guests had a marijuana cigarette in his pocket. He was arrested. There was no evidence to indicate that any of the others knew anything about it. We don't plan on charging them with any crime, although we could considering most of them are too young to drink. We brought them to the station mainly to serve as a wake-up call, for them AND their parents. Things aren't like they were when we were growing up, with all the drugs and everything. Does that make any sense?"

Sue nodded her head. "Yes, Officer certainly does. And you can rest assured that my daughter and I are going to have a long talk when we get home. She won't be going to any parties for a while. Nor will she be sitting down."

The officer rose and once again extended his hand. "Thank you, Mrs. Turner. You're not the first parent I've heard tonight who has expressed those same sentiments. From what I gather, there's going to be a lot of sore backsides in town this weekend. Now, let's go get your daughter."

Visibly shaken from her ordeal, Marsha got into the car and tried to get her shattered nerves under control. It was easily the worst night of her life. If only she had stayed home like she was suppposed to! Right now, the three of them would probably be sitting in the living room, drinking a cup of Mom's hot chocolate while Peggy described the movie they saw scene by scene. Instead, Marsha was being taken home from the police station by an irate mom who, in all probability, was going to introduce her to the back of her hairbrush.

"Well, let's see...", Sue said, her voice seething with anger, "you left the house while you were supposed to be grounded, went to a party without any adult supervision where there was alcohol and drugs, and nearly got arrested. You've had quite a time. What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

Marsha shook her head slowly. "Nothing, Mom...I shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry I put you through this. It won't happen again. I promise."

The words sounded genuine. Sue felt a lot of her anger disappear. There was no need for the ranting and raving she was prepared to do. However, she wasn't about to let this little escapade go unpunished. "That may be so.", she said in a calmer voice. "And I'm sure your visit to the police station was a harrowing experience. But to make absolutely sure you never do anything like this again, Mother is going to pull down pants and spank when we get home. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mom.", the disconsolate Marsha whispered as she bit her lower lip. "I understand." The final few minutes of the ride home were silent, save for an occasional sniffle.

Peggy was waiting at the door when the car pulled up. "What happened? Is she OK?", she asked after seeing her ashen-faced sister. Marsha wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words out. Instead, she buried her face in her hands and ran up the stairs to the master bedroom.

"I'll tell you about it later on.", Sue told her curious daughter. "But first, I have some business to attend to."

Peggy watched as her mother followed Marsha up to the second floor. Having made that trip herself, she had a pretty good idea what that "business" entailed. "Boy, do I feel sorry for you!", the 17-year-old said softly, her own bottom tingling nervously at just the thought of a spanking.

Sue entered her bedroom and found a teary Marsha sitting on the edge of the bed. She closed the door and pulled out the vanity bench. Marsha stood up, wiped away her tears, and, without being told, started to unbutton her jeans. While her mother got the hairbrush from the dresser, she worked the jeans down to her knees. Sue seated herself on the bench and motioned for her. "Please don't take my panties down...", Marsha pleaded as she assumed her position over the maternal lap. "Please..."

Sue's answer was to place her fingers inside the waistband of the cotton underpants and lower them to mid-thigh, exposing two very white bottomcheeks that hadn't felt so much as a slap since the incident at the store over four years ago. Those girlish globes were in for a very painful surprise, as Marsha found out when the hairbrush descended. "AIEEEEEEE!" Her scream was so loud it made Peggy cringe downstairs.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?", Sue lectured as she began a steady tempo of spanks to the rapidly-reddening bottom. "I dare say you'll think twice before sneaking out of the house again."

"I will Mommy! I promise!", the squirming teenager vowed through a veil of tears, the temperature of her behind rising steadily. "I've learned my lesson! Really! Please stop! Pleeeease!"

Sue pinned Marsha's waving hand to the small of her back. "Stop?-I-don't- think-so!", she announced, punctuating each word with a solid smack to the angry-looking buttocks. "Why,-we're-just-getting-started! When-I-get-through-with-you-you-won't-sit-down-for-a-week!"

Tears fell in torrents as the spanking increased in both speed and intensity. The hairbrush was making up for its two and a half year hiatus, igniting a blaze everywhere it landed. No part of the intended target area was spared, from the summits of Marsha's bottomcheeks to the tops of her thighs. The hairbrush turned into a paintbrush in Sue's hand, creating a vivid picture of scarlet and purple on a canvass that pleaded for the artist to stop.

Sue delivered the final searing blows to the upturned bottom and released her grip on the well-spanked Marsha. "Have I gotten my point across, young lady, or do we need to continue?"

The 16-year-old painfully got to her feet and placed both hands on her smoldering, blistered bottom. "Yes, Mommy...", she said as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'll be a good girl from now on." Tears turned to sobs. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you. You trusted me to stay home, and I let you down."

Sue rose from the bench and stood before her. She put her hand under Marsha's wet chin and lifted it. "You've always been a good girl, Darling. And you will never, ever disappoint me. Yes, you got into a little bit of trouble tonight; there are few girls your age who haven't. I guess that's why they make hairbrushes. Just remember I'm your mother, and I'll always be there for you, on good nights, and on bad nights like this. And one more thing. I don't tell you this as often as I should, but your father would be very proud of you and your sisters..."

Marsha's tear-filled eyes glistened. "Really, Mom?"

"Yes, really.", Sue smiled. She gently turned her bare-bottomed daughter around and led her to the corner. "Thirty minutes and you can go to bed, Dear. And by the way, don't wear my sweater any more - it's too small for you." she said with a wink while taking her seat in the rocking chair...

THE END Part 4