From: kentls001@worldnet.att.net (Kent Stoneking) Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking Subject: The tattletale (m/f) Date: 16 Jun 1996 05:01:34 GMT
Disclaimer #1: I've been lurking for about two months now, and have decided to try to pay you folks back for some of the pleasure you've given me. This is my first attempt at writing a spanking story, and I'd welcome any and all (constructive) criticism anyone may have. I have some ideas for other stories, but if I'm wasting my time writing them, I'd like to know now.
Disclaimer #2: The usual. If you're under 18 or turned off by this type of literature, then please don't read any further. In fact, find some other newsgroup.
Disclaimer #3: Any resemblance between the family in this story and a certain B---y B---h is _purely_ coincidence <VBG>.
Enough disclaimers! Here comes the story:
Greg lay on his bed, fuming. Grounded! For two whole weeks! And all because that little pipsqueak had squealed on him! The rest of the family was downstairs watching television, but Greg was in no mood to join them.
Darn that little brat! he thought. Why couldn't she learn to keep her mouth shut? If he ever got his hands on her, he'd --
"Greg?"
His sulk interrupted, Greg looked at the source of the voice. Standing in the door to the boy's room was the little tattletale herself: Greg's youngest sister, Cindy.
"What do _you_ want?" he asked. He was in no mood to put up with her just then.
"Are you mad at me?" What did she think? How could he _not_ be mad at her? He didn't answer, just turned his head away.
"I don't want you to be mad at me, Greg" she said, stepping into the room. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?
"Then you shouldn't have tattled on me," Greg said, rolling over onto his
side, away from her. He wished she'd take the hint and get out.
"I didn't mean to tattle on you, Greg. I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you."
Suddenly Greg had an idea. He sat up and looked at his sister. "Actually, there is _something_ you could do..."
Cindy asked, "What is it, Greg?" but he didn't answer. Instead, he got up and shut the bedroom door, then went over to the desk and pulled the chair over into the center of the room. Then he took his somewhat-puzzled sister by the hand and lead her over to the chair. Seating himself comfortably, he reached up and pulled Cindy face forward, across his lap.
The girl started kicking and squirming, but Greg soon had her pinned firmly in place. "Cindy, I think the solution to your tattling problem is very simple: every time you tattle, you get paddled. And we'll start right now. You
tattled on me, so I'm going to paddle you!"
"No!" Cindy squealed, but Greg wasn't listening. During the struggle, Cindy's dress had ridden up around her waist, exposing her panty-clad bottom. Greg tucked his fingers into the waistband of the girl's panties and drew them down around mid-thigh. He patted his sister's bare buttocks twice, lightly, then raised his hand and delivered a resounding smack.
Cindy threw her head back and screamed. She reached both her hands behind her, to try and cover her bottom, but Greg grabbed both her wrists with his left hand and pushed her arms aside, leaving him a clear target. He continued spanking in a slow, steady rhythm, each blow landing squarely on his sister's bare rump.
Never in her life had Cindy felt so helpless, or so much pain. She kicked her legs furiously and tried to wiggle free, but she couldn't break Greg's grip. The family downstairs couldn't hear her screams; she tried pleading with Greg to stop, but he paid no attention. Eventually she gave up and laid still,
sobbing uncontrollably.
After about five dozen hearty whacks, Greg decided that she'd had enough. His sister's bottom had turned a uniform bright red, and, anyway, his hand hurt. He stopped the spanking and released his grip. Cindy lay across his lap for a few seconds, then got to her feet. "I'm telling!" she yelled at Greg, rubbing her eyes with one hand and her bottom with the other.
"Do you want to be spanked again?" asked Greg. "Remember, Cindy, that's how it's going to be from now on. Whenever you tattle, you get paddled."
Cindy knew there was nothing she could do. Pausing just long enough to pull her panties back into place, she ran out of the boy's room into the girl's, threw herself on her bed (face down, of course), buried her face in her pillow, and let the tears flow.
Because of her sore bottom, Cindy had a hard time sleeping that night, and she squirmed in her seat throughout school the next day. By dinnertime, though, the pain had subsided and she was able to sit comfortably at the table with the rest of the family.
During the meal, Mike said to Carol, "Don't forget, we've got the party at the Wilson's tomorrow."
"Good thing you reminded me," said Carol. "I've got to go shopping tomorrow. My blue eye shadow has disappeared, and I can't find it anywhere."
"I know where it is, Mommy! I saw Marsha using it yesterday!" said Cindy, without thinking.
"Is that true, Marsha? Did you take my makeup without asking?" Carol asked her oldest daughter. Marsha just bit her lip and stared down at her plate.
"Marsha, you know better than that. I've told you repeatedly not to take my things without asking. You're grounded for a week."
"But, Mom," Marsha started, but Carol cut her off. "No buts! You know the rules, and you broke them."
"Yes, Mother," said Marsha sullenly, shooting Cindy a dirty look. To Cindy's horror, Greg leaned over and whispered something in Marsha's ear. Marsha
looked a bit surprised, then fixed Cindy with another glare -- but her frown was replaced by a decidedly evil grin.
Later that night, as Cindy emerged from the bathroom after her evening bath, she found Marsha sitting on her bed, holding a ruler in one hand. "Cindy, it's time we did something about this tattling problem of yours," said Marsha, tapping the ruler meaningfully against her free hand...