Subject: Rewrite: Renewal (sp,FFM/f)kfr
From: Kfry2k@aol.com
Date: 24 Oct 1997 06:45:52 -0700

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictionalization that involves a teenager being spanked. If you are not of legal age, stop reading now. Any similarity between the characters represented in this story and real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.


Keli Hansen sat quietly, staring glumly at the small piece of paper sitting atop the books on her lap. The school office around her was quiet, practically everyone having gone their way for the afternoon. Like all old school buildings, it was stuffy, and filled with mixed aromas: ditto fluid, mimeograph ink, the pungent tang of freshly sharpened Eberhard Faber No. 2 pencils, and something else.... the peculiar mustiness of buildings that are periodically shut up for months at a time.

At seventeen, Keli had most everything going her way. She was classically pretty, with honey blonde hair and a full mouth with just a trace of pout. More cute than outright beautiful, she was well groomed and possessed of a figure which had many boys falling all over themselves. Her medium blue eyes had long lashes, and were usually smiling, framing a button of a nose that was her daddy's delight. In the glass of the office window, she could see her reflection. The girl in the glass wore a medium gray pleated skirt cut just above the knees with a white blouse above and white cotton socks with black patent pumps below. Over the ensemble was a wine-colored blazer with gold buttons. Her posture was excellent, and the overall image was one of class and quality.

"How did it come to this?" she wondered to herself, staring again at the one blemish on her otherwise satisfactory report card. An "F" in American History. She knew the answer, but it didn't help to reflect on it. During the last marking period she had lied to her mother several times about going to the library to study, going malling with friends instead. Her homework suffered, and the failing grade an ultimate result. Now, according to school policy, she had to pay the piper.

A large wooden clock on the wall across from her interrupted her reverie with a loud clack as the minute hand betrayed the passage of another sixty seconds, bringing her closer to judgment. Through a frosted glass door to her left, she could dimly hear voices. The deeper melodic hum came from Mrs. Thatcher, the school disciplinarian. There was also a higher pitched, younger voice, belonging to Allison Blair, one of the girls in Keli's "malling" crowd, and a third voice, belonging to Allison's mother. School policy required one of the student's parents be present during punishment, a wise rule.

For a moment or two, it got real quiet... too quiet, as they say in the movies. Straining to hear, Keli thought she heard a faint whimpering sound. The silence was broken by a sound rather like someone dropping a book on the floor, accompanied by a sharp, girlish cry. Keli's heart started to pound as the adrenaline rush hit her like a cold wave. Two, three, almost four incredibly long seconds passed, and then a second sharp crack filtered through the door, followed by a louder and more strident yelp. Slowly, methodically, the smacks continued, with the pitch and volume of Allison's wailing increasing until Keli had counted a dozen. Her mouth went dry and she shivered with fear as the spanking came to an end. Her turn would be next. She felt like she was going to wet her pants, but didn't dare go to the girls' room just then. Desperately, she looked around her, her mind grasping wildly for some way to escape her fate, but there was nowhere to run. After hearing some more talking in low tones, Allison came out of the inner office, her eyes red and puffy, tears still flowing from her pretty eyes. Her upper arm was clasped firmly in her mother's hand, and it didn't take much imagination to realize that Allison's ordeal had only begun. The frosty look on her mother's face told the story most graphically. Allison looked compassionately at Keli as she passed, letting out a brief sob before being pulled away by her mother. Keli watched her go, feeling so sorry for the poor girl she almost forgot her own predicament.


The pretty blonde jumped as if she had been shot. Mrs. Thatcher stood in the door way to her inner sanctum, holding the door open. Keli stood, clutching, her books to her chest as if in defense, her knees vibrating. The middle-aged woman standing in the doorway presented an intimidating appearance. Severely dressed in the school colors of burgundy and gray, she was a fairly large woman, 5'11" in her three-inch heels. The look on her face was one of stern determination, resolute firmness. Nowhere on that forbidding countenance could Keli find a hint of sympathy. Understanding, forgiveness, perhaps, but no sympathy. Like a lamb being led to the slaughter, Keli slowly entered the dimly lit inner office, hearing the door click shut behind them with a terrible finality.

Margaret Hansen, Keli's mother, sat across the room, beyond a long table which had one end cleared of books and things. In the middle of that cleared space rested an object that made Keli's lip quiver and her eyes grow misty. A thin hardwood paddle, eighteen inches long and three inches wide spoke volumes of Keli's immediate future, and for a long moment she couldn't take her eyes from it. The handle was wrapped with friction tape, giving a firm grip, and its varnished surface glinted wickedly in the light from a nearby desk lamp. Tearing her gaze away, Keli glanced at her mother. The look on her face was more of hurt than anger, even though annoyance was plainly visible. Meeting Keli's glance, the woman evinced the same determination shown by Mrs. Thatcher. Ashamed, Keli averted her gaze, staring momentarily at the floor. She was allowed that brief moment of introspection before Mrs. Thatcher stated,

"You know why you're here, don't you, young lady?"

"Yes, ma'am." Keli replied dimly, "I've let everybody down. I'm sorry, really I am."

"Yes, you have." The older woman agreed. "And more than that, you've let yourself down. You've turned your back on your education for a few brief minutes of fun. That will have consequences, and if the trend continues, the consequences could be very serious, indeed."

A silence hung in the air which seemed longer than it was before the woman spoke again.

"When talented young ladies turn their backs on their responsibilities, we feel it our duty to help set them back on the right path. The spanking you are about to receive is not really punishment: you've already punished yourself for your actions. It's rather our way of getting your attention in an unmistakable way, and believe me, before we're through here, we'll have your undivided attention."

As she said this, she took Keli's chin in her left hand and raised her face so their eyes met. "Do you understand?" she asked the pretty blonde teenager.

"Yes, Mrs. Thatcher." Keli choked out, her mouth almost refusing to work due to a size ten lump in her throat.

Leading Keli over to the table, Mrs. Thatcher had her lay her books on a nearby chair, then picked up the paddle. Keli's heart took off like a racehorse, and she looked wildly at her mother, as if for surcease. There was none to be had. Mrs. Hansen sat with her arms folded across her chest, apparently impassive.

"Bend over the table, Keli." the disciplinarian's order came sternly.

Keli looked again at her mother and appealed,

"Please, mom. Don't let her spank me, please!"

A wave of compassion came over the woman's face, but then the resolve returned. She answered flatly,

"There are some things I can't protect you from, dear, and I'm afraid this has to be one of them."

A hand in the middle of Keli's back settled the question, as Mrs. Thatcher pressed her firmly down across the cleared table.

"Keep your hands in front of you, or it will go harder, understand?"

Keli mewed her understanding, tears already beginning to flow. Her discomfort increased as she felt her pleated skirt flipped up, then climbed even higher on the scale of mortification as her panties were yanked down to her knees. A long, deadly silence passed, the moment frozen in time as Keli's brain went into overdrive from threat response.

WHACK! The blow took her completely by surprise, stinging unbelievably and driving the air from her with an amazed "Ahhhhhh!" Dozens of prickly needles assaulted her rump, and she squirmed, wanting to grab the injured area. Two, three, four seconds, then WHACK!, the paddle landed again, right where the bottom joins the thighs, the very tenderest spot.

"Owww -- wow!" Keli wailed, her right leg kicking involuntarily at the fiery smart. WHACK! SMACK! Two sharp swats in succession broke the pattern, and her resolve. "OWWWW, OWWW! Oh, please, please stop! I'm sorry, please!" Another couple of seconds passed, then SMACK! WHACK! CRACK! Three very sound spanks landed rapidly, bringing another torrent of wails and pleas.

"P-p-please, Mom! Make her st-top, p-please! I'll be GOOD!"

Three seconds later, another hard smack added more fire to the poor girl's fast reddening bottom, making her kick and squirm even more. As the remainder of the dozen spanks fell, Keli dissolved into broken- hearted sobbing, her legs kicking wildly as the hardwood paddle connected with areas that had already been severely stung.

Mrs. Thatcher had been right. They had her absolute, undivided attention. The older woman finally permitted Keli to stand and replace her disarrayed clothing, and the chastised girl complied, tears streaming down her pretty face as she stared at the floor, too embarrassed to face either her mother or Mrs. Thatcher. When she was done, her mother came over and offered her hankie, giving the girl a hug. Keli looked up into her mom's eyes, feeling somewhat better about herself, but still shouldering guilt for the hurt she had caused.

"I have the car outside," her mother announced, "but I want you to walk home this afternoon."

Keli searched her mother's face for clarification, and her mom continued,

"You and I still have something to settle, young lady, and I want you to think about it on the way home."

She turned to leave, and Keli's heart sank as she realized her ordeal was not yet over. From her mother's resolved tone, it might have only just begun.

Spring has a way of making things seem all right. Her books cradled across her chest, Keli made her way home slowly, the fire in her cute little caboose diminishing somewhat on the way. Fresh air, sunshine, birds and squirrels celebrating the return of warm weather, bright flowers poking their heads out in search of the sun; who could have a problem on a day like this? she mused. In answer, the elastic of her panties chafed at the bruised area of her bottom as she walked, reminding her that there was undoubtedly more to come. Suddenly, the world seemed dimmer, as if a passing cloud had obscured the sun. A slight breeze, still bearing the chill of winter made her shiver. As the distance to her house decreased, everything stood out in sharp relief as her senses heightened. She wished to be anywhere but here at this moment, facing what would likely be another spanking, and probably more severe. Her mom didn't spank her often, but when she found it necessary she took the trouble to see it was not soon forgotten. The doorway to her home gaped like the stygian abyss. Like Charon's passenger, headed for the shores of Styx and Hades beyond, Keli entered, almost able to read the motto: Abandon Hope, all ye who Enter Here.

The house was quiet, and the absence of sound made the aroma of roasting chicken more distinct. Keli slipped softly to her room, hoping to have a few minutes to herself to prepare for her coming ordeal. Placing her books on the desk, she hung up her blazer and looked again at the miserable report card, feeling really bad about it. Her father would be so disappointed to discover that "Daddy's little angel" had feet of clay. She wanted to cry, and then did; great wracking sobs that twisted her insides. Throwing herself across her bed, for the next ten minutes she wallowed in self pity. Afterward, she rose and crossed to her full- length mirror, turning and lifting her skirt, pulling down her wispy panties to assess the damage. Her poor little heinie was still crimson, and a bit puffy here and there. She rubbed it tentatively, feeling the tenderness with dismay.

"Mrs. Thatcher does a good job, doesn't she?"

Her mother's voice surprised her. Keli sniffed, and replied simply,

"Yes, she does." There was no resentment in her voice, merely distress.

Keli's mom got right to the point.

"It's time you and I settled accounts, Keli, and by the time we're done your naughty bottom will be much, much redder than it is now."

Keli noticed that her mom was holding her favorite spanking tool, a well-worn but serviceable wooden hairbrush. The girl's heart quickened as her mother beckoned, and she began to cry softly to herself as she was led to the den, the place where most of her spankings took place. Her mother's left hand firmly grasped Keli's right arm just above the elbow, guiding her along, reminding Keli of just how stern and capable a disciplinarian her mom could be.

Once in the den, Mrs. Hansen sat on a straight-backed chair which served the need best. Looking up at her daughter's teary eyes, she held on to Keli's left hand and began to lecture her.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Keli. You lied to me, not just once, but systematically, and for no good reason. It's going to take a long time for me to trust you again."

Keli cried harder, sniffling and unable to speak from emotion.

"Your daddy will be crushed when he finds out. You're the apple of his eye, and he's so proud of you. How will you make it up to him?"

Keli just bawled when she heard her mother's words, it ripped her guts out. No spanking could possibly hurt the way those words cut her, and she dissolved in tears.

"I'm glad you feel so bad, young lady." her mother stated firmly. "It will make what I'm about to give you even more effective. Turn over my knee." Keli obeyed, and was soon settled across her mother's ample lap. Her skirt was quickly flipped up, and then a rush of cool air caressed her backside as her panties were pulled well down to bare her bottom for the spanking. There was a pause as her mom got settled, and then a slight sigh. With a sharp smack, the hairbrush landed smartly on her right bottom cheek, producing a more intense sting than Keli remembered, augmented by the paddling she'd had earlier. The other side was next, and then the first, and so on. Keli's mom used the old fashioned hairbrush expertly, working it from side to side and from the top of her once creamy white but now scarlet behind right down to mid-thigh. The pretty teenager squirmed and continued to bawl unashamedly as the brush spanked her well-reddened bare bottom again and again. Vainly attempting to protect her bottom, Keli found her right wrist gripped firmly in her mother's left hand, pinned to her side. Her mom's elbow kept her in place while the hairbrush spanked and spanked and spanked for many long minutes, until every square inch of the target showed evidence of ample punishment. It was a symphony of discipline: a yelping, wailing, sobbing melody synchronized by the staccato percussion of varnished wood on bare skin. The spanking finally stopped, but the fire in Keli's rear continued unabated, it seemed.

Eyes and nose running freely, her bottom ablaze, she was a mess. Her mother led her to the corner saying,

"You can just kneel down here until your daddy gets home, young lady. Clasp your hands behind your back and hold that skirt up so your naughty bare bottom is on display." "By the way," she ordered, "don't let me catch you rubbing that behind, or you'll go right back over my knee, understand?"

Keli nodded submissively, sniffling and sobbing as she obeyed her mother's commands. Kneeling in the dim corner, she tightly clasped her hands as ordered, fighting the nearly overwhelming impulse to briskly rub some of the fire out of her glowing bottom. As the fire began to die away, a deep, throbbing ache took its place, accompanied by a dreadful itching that really tested her self-control. A furtive glance over her shoulder revealed that her mom had left the hairbrush on the table, full proof that she would spank Keli again if she disobeyed.

It seemed like hours, but was only about thirty minutes later that her father came home. Her mother recounted to him what had occurred, and then called Keli out of the corner to apologize to him for her behavior. Keli haltingly obeyed, not able to hold her father's gaze for very long. The incredible hurt in his eyes was too much for her to bear. When she had used up all the words she could to convey her sorrow, she simply stood looking down at his feet. Her mother's voice sent a wave of shock running through her when she heard it say calmly,

"I think your little angel needs a trip over her daddy's knee for a good spanking."

Keli was both relieved and defeated when he replied tiredly,

"No, Margaret, I think she's had enough for one day. Let her think about what she's done and how to earn back our trust."

Her mother nodded, sending the well-punished girl off to bed without supper.

Lying in bed in the Spring twilight, Keli gently massaged her battered bottom, feeling partially cleansed. It would take time, but she would rebuild her relationship with her mom. Her father was another matter. The ledger was still out of balance. As sleep came, Keli was forced to an inescapable conclusion. Payment must be made.

EPILOGUE: Sunday, One week later.

The aroma of bacon and eggs lingered, creating a familiar and warming atmosphere in the house. Margaret Hansen busied herself cleaning the kitchen while her husband sat at the table reading the Sunday paper. Keli had been exceptionally quiet at breakfast, retiring to her room soon afterward. The day had begun well, and showed the promise of warm sun and blue cloud-dappled skies.

"Daddy?" Keli's voice came tentatively.

Her father looked up to see Keli standing before him, clad in her flannel shorty pajamas. She held her hands clasped behind her, in the classic naughty girl pose.

"Yes, angel?" he replied, curious at her mood.

Hearing him use his pet name for her almost made her crumble, but she steeled herself and said,

"I'm really sorry for what I did, and that I hurt you and mom."

"I know, angel," he said forgivingly, "I know."

The pretty teenager continued, "I know you forgive me, daddy, but I still feel bad."

Taking a deep breath, she said,

"I want you to spank me. Good and hard."

There! she finally got it out, she thought, but would he do it? Everything depended on his understanding, now. Her father looked skeptically at his wife, as if for guidance. None was forthcoming. This was between Keli and her father, and Mrs. Hansen knew it.

"It's the only way, daddy." Keli appealed. "I've got to clean the slate, and this is the only way."

He almost cried, he was so proud of her. Clearing his throat, he said softly,

"I guess you're right, angel. Why don't you go to your room, and I'll be there in a little bit." "No, daddy." Keli protested gently. "Right here. In front of mom."

Her father looked once again at his wife, and this time she nodded almost imperceptibly. Turning back to his pretty young daughter, he swung his chair out from the table and said,

"Okay. Over my knee." Keli approached him and took her hands out from behind her back, holding out to her father the hairbrush she had gotten from her mother's dressing table. Then, blushing slightly, she pushed her pajama bottoms down and lay across her father's lap, saying,

"Give it to me good. I deserve it. Make sure I never, ever think about betraying you again."

Her father couldn't speak, so he let the hairbrush do the talking for him. Understanding, he swatted the girl's bare bottom long and hard, until it was cherry red and she had dissolved in tears, begging him to stop. Like the renewal of Spring, the spanking brought freshness back to the entire family, who were, by the time it was over, all crying.