From: EMLN31B@prodigy.com (MS DARIA LITTLE) Date: Wed, 10 Jul 1996 19:46:34, -0500 To: firstname.lastname@example.org Subject: Night out with Christy
This story involves spanking, please donít read if that is not of interest, this story should be regarded as fiction and the product of a wandering unfocused mind.
This story takes place this past summer, about the time I had the trouble with my car registration, this is told from my friend Christyís view point, Iíll turn the key board over to her now with some reluctance, and the reminder to you, my dear readers of the trouble she got me in the summer I spent with my uncle.
After Daria left for the summer to return home four years ago, we stayed in touch and then things kind of tailed off as far as the correspondence went, oh we still wrote and once we were in California on a vacation, and visited Daria and her family, but the friendship went into hibernation. With the exception of six weeks I spent with her and her family in California the next summer I was not as lucky regarding her Uncle who I shall refer to as Mr. WHIPpel, and not because he squeezes the charmin.
That summer I had received several spankings from him and Mom was so pleased with his handiwork and the thought of being able to have someone else handle such matters that she was able to persuade him to administer my punishments, soon he was a regular fixture at our house and when it was either me or my younger brother that was going to be spanked, he would be invited down for dinner first. Was that ever awkward, having to eat dinner with a neighbor that was soon going to paddle your bottom. In one way it was better than having Mom do it, she always got off on those guilt trips, you know what I mean, Why are you doing this to me?
ìWhy canít you behave like Judy down the street?î That kind of thing, with Mr. Whippel it was all business, he had only a few words and then the spanking started. He was also good at counseling Mom on the fact that kids get into trouble sometimes and that doesnít mean they are bad kids or donít love their family, itís just that kids get into trouble, simply as a part of growing up, and some kids get into trouble more than others. (Guess what group Iím in?) You administer the appropriate discipline and move on.
So I guess for the most part it worked out, and there are numerous stories to be told about the occurrences that took place after that summer, that Daria has no idea of, but thatís not what Iím here to tell you about, I want to tell you about something that took place two weeks after my 20th birthday.
Daria finally got her car registration problem all straightened out and we were soon on the road again, we go to the same Junior College, I have to admit however that Daria takes school more seriously than I do, I think her Uncle believes me to be a bad influence on her, ME can you imagine that? I wasnít too concerned what he thought and was just a bit contemptuous, the last time he had spanked me was when I had just graduated from high school, so I figured I was pretty safe, and if Daria still had to abide by his silly rules well that was her problem, not mine. Or so I figured.
That Friday night Daria and I went cruising, and looking for fun and boys down by the college, that might be interesting, despite her protests, I was able to get a six pack of beer by using some fake ID and talked her, well badgered her into drinking two, what I didnít realize was that Daria does not drink, and did they go to her head, soon we were driving all over the road, I thought it very funny and was egging her on, feeling no pain from the other four beers.
I was the first to see the flashing blue lights in the side rear view mirror, ìOh Shit weíre in trouble now,î Daria whined, ìhey no problemî I said, ìjust be cool and weíll be all right, just act natural.î
The cop walked to the drivers side of the car and after asking for the registration and her license, he asked Daria to step out of the car, and up until that point I thought she was doing fine, then the door opened and in one motion Daria put her leg out to step down and boom she was on the ground at the copís feet in the dust.
I jumped out of the truck to help and when I got around to the other side there was Daria still on the ground giggling like a fool and trying in vain to get up. The cop was not impressed.
Soon the truck was being towed away and we were on our way to the police station, where we were booked for drunk driving (Daria) and public intoxication ( Me). As luck would have it after a few phone calls, both my Mom and Mr. Whippel showed up together a few hours later to bail us out. Funny enough they were not impressed either.
Not a word was spoken all the way home, as Mom and I were being dropped off at our house Dariaís Uncle looked at Mom and said ìremember 9:00 in the morning,î she nodded and said ìweíll be there.î Now if I had been sharper that night I would have been able to figure out what the exchange meant, but it went right over my head, I expected to get a lecture when we got in the house, but no, I was allowed to go right to bed with out a peep from Mom.
The next morning at breakfast my brother looked at me funny, not sure what his sister had done last night but he knew it was big, and his curiosity was running wild, but he knew better than ask. I announced to Mom that I was going to play tennis and would be back later that afternoon, ìNoo.. I donít think so dear, she said weíre going up the street for a visit at 9:00 this morning and then youíre grounded for the weekend,î my brother snickered, he knew what that meant having had to make a trip or two himself, and I blushed and at once wanted to protest but knew that would do no good at all.
So at 8:45 my Mother and her errant daughter walked to Mr. Whippels house, as soon as we entered I saw Daria sitting on the couch in the den with a long face , The standard lecture was over pretty quickly, and as none of the major facts were in dispute the punishments were ready to begin.
Even though the lecture had been short it was made clear that our incident was viewed in very unfavorable terms and we could expect punishment ( in Mr. Whippelís words) that was in keeping with such careless and thoughtless acts on our part.
Daria was directed to close the blinds in the front room and we were both soon standing in front of Mr. Whippel, I noted that a straight back chair was in the living room and seemed to dominate my thoughts and the drama of the event, it seemed so out of place there, that it just sort of stood out and I stared at it as if it were going to bit me.
It was then that Mom spoke up and said in what I realized later was a rehearsed or planned course of action, ìSince you girls think that you can do anything you want and break the law, and generally act like children, thatís just how you will be punished, Now I want you both to drop your jeans and step out of your panties.î
This was just great I thought, here I am twenty years old, in College and about to be paddled like I was ten again, but there wasnít a damn thing I could do about it, and so in unison we dropped our jeans, and almost as one we took down our panties and stepped out of them.
If this has ever happened to you then you realize that there is no way to accomplish this gracefully or in the process maintain even a little dignity. I was blushing and trying to pull my T-shirt down to save what ever of my modesty that was salvageable, but to no avail, I had worn a T-shirt that didnít even reach my belly button, I was fully exposed from the waist down and there was no changing that, I looked at Daria and either she had planned better than me or was just lucky she had on a pink T-shirt that reached below her bottom cheeks, What I would have given for that as Mr. Whippel looked us over prior to beginning.
Mr. Whippel went to the chair and slowly sat down, he looked at both of us in an obvious attempt to increase the tension, I had my hands clasped in front on me to try and hide what I could, Daria I noticed was looking at the floor and the toes of her left foot were curling and uncurling in the carpet as if trying to get a grip. She had her hands clasped behind her back giving the impression of a woeful little child waiting for her punishment, I realized that was exactly the summation of my personal feelings as well.
Mom was behind us and I felt her give me a push forward and as I moved toward Mr. Whippel put out his hand and took my left wrist. I was pulled to his side facing his lap and after only a second or two was pulled across his lap.
At that point he realized the paddle was still in the den, Daria was sent to get it while I had to lay across Mr. Whippelís lap waiting for the paddling to begin, the wait caused me to focus on my embarrassment, I was blushing and starting to fidget and pull my legs together as tight as I could, when Mr. Whippel gave me a swat with his hand and said, ìChristy, I expect you to stay still.î I stopped moving not wanting to earn any more extra swats.
Soon enough Daria was back, she handed him the ping pong paddle and stepped back a few feet to watch the floor show.
Mr. Whippel took the paddle and patted my bare bottom a few times, I tried to ignore this and was focused on the fact that my T-shirt was now riding up my back and was almost even with my shoulders making me feel totally naked.
Mr. Whippel began a slow buildup giving me a swat every two seconds, each one was just somewhat harder than the last. I still remember the sounds of that spanking as if they are still ringing in my ears. The first sounds as the paddling started , were like claps you might make for a good circus performance,
Clap, clap, clap, One every two seconds, by the fourth clap the burn was beginning to build and soon as the burn expanded on my bottom the swats were picking up intensity and the sounds were still claps but now almost too loud to be described as claps.
Some were sharp claps and some thudded against my bottom and made a duller sound when the paddles contact was different, With each one however I shuddered with the impact and the sting and began expressing myself in the only allowable manner. It became a stream of Clap, Clap, ìOWWWî CLAP, ìOUCHî ìHURTS!î WHAP, WHAP, ìOK OK No more PLEASE,î CLAP WHAP.
I was crying with out reservation, or thought of trying to be brave, I began moving my legs straight out level with the ground, and when that didnít help dropping them back against Mr. Whippels leg and the chair. ìAwww,î CLAP, SLAP ìOWIEEEî SLAP SLAP ìTHAT HURTS PLEASE NO MORE.....î SLAP SLAP....
This pattern continued until thirty swats of the paddle had been delivered. ( I had long since lost count, Mom had to tell me the next day)
I lay across Mr. Whippels lap sobbing in gasping breaths for almost half a minute after the spanking was over and I knew I could get up, I just couldnít focus enough to actually make the effort, then slowly I got up and went to Momís waiting arms and comfort, she hugged me for a few seconds and calmed me down , then she put her hand on my shoulder and turned me to watch Dariaís spanking with the comment, ìNow watch what you got your friend into,î I felt so low right then.
I reached down for my jeans but Mom held me by the arm forcing me to stay in place and exposed while we watched Daria get her spanking.
As Daria approached her Uncle I saw that her normally tan face was now almost pale and she had a serious worried look as well she might after just witnessing my spanking.
He took her across his lap in the same way he had me, pulled up her T- shirt that was so effective in protecting her modesty earlier and was now totally ineffective. and soon she was ready to his satisfaction, he picked up the paddle, and began the slow pattern of one swat every two seconds or so.
Daria took hold of the legs of the chair and never let go through out the whole paddling . I watched as Dariaís fanny started turning red and then redder as the paddling continued, I donít remember too much about the sounds of her spanking other than the obvious Slap, and Whipping noise, rather I remember other things, Daria held out longer than I did before starting to cry and as I said never let go of the chair legs, what she did do however was to kick her legs from the knees up and down in a motion like she was swimming. When this proved ineffective she began moving her legs apart and together and apart again at an increasing until she was warned to stop, at which point her outer leg was off his lap and sliding, he stopped for a second and pulled it back into place.
Daria sang out at almost every swat after he got under way and it was mostly an repeat of ìAie Aieî CLAP ìAieî CLAP ìAIEî SWAT ìAIEî SWAT ìAIEî SWAT ìOWWww ì SPANK ìOWW AIEî. At least I had some variety.
Half way through she began bucking just a bit, reminded me of a swimmer trying to do the butterfly stroke. As I was watching Mom evidently feeling that I needed some more attention began swatting my bottom with her hand, not nearly as hard as Daria was getting at that point but on my already sore fanny it was enough, I began pulling my rear in to avoid the swats, having the effect of sticking out my front, so almost in cadence with Dariaís spanking I was getting a second spanking standing there. I was whimpering to Mom that it wasnít fair I had gotten my spanking, but she kept on, stopping only seconds before Dariaís Uncle finished with her.
We were allowed to gather our things and retreat to Dariaís room to collect ourselves, A half hour later Mom came in and told me to wash my face and be home in less than an hour to begin my weekend restriction.
Imagine restriction at twenty years of age!! She left to go home and Mr. Whippel satisfied that a good days work was done went out to sun himself by the pool leaving us alone in the house, after we had regained our composure we compared our bottoms in the bathroom mirror and reflecting on our well punished rear ends decided that we would not be wearing and swim suits for several days.
I hope you liked my insight and story, maybe Daria will let me tell you another story sometime soon. I can be so much more interesting than my tame friend.