Subject: RL #27 from Scottsdale (F/f, F/ff, F,f)
From: arizona406@aol.com (Arizona406)
Date: 13 Jun 1996 18:22:15 -0400
Now you all be careful out there or you might read something that is beyond your deepest feelings. So if you are in this newsgroup and you know you shouldn't be then dont' read anyfurther.
Start if you dare. But it is just a memory.
The summer had just gotten underway and I was on my way to high school. This was going to be a great summer. I had many friends at this time who were in high school. So when the fall came around I was quite sure that I would have no trouble fitting right in. I wasn t going to be scared nor was I going to fall for any of their stupid tricks. Like room 101 is where the broom closet is. Or taken to the parking lot by some seniors made to push a peanut with my nose. I heard of all those things. I would just have a very pleasant summer and keep in mind that I would not take any crap off anyone. I was not going to be the laughing stock of my school. No way. Not me.
My best friend was Tonya. She lived across the street. In our lives, since we met, that is, we have had plenty of adventures. And my second best friend was Linda. She lived just down the street. We all three were close. In fact there were four of us that were real close. Could think of us as sister if you cared to. Me, Linda, Tonya, and Annie.
Annie was the smartest of all three of us. See what I mean. I always forget to count me. There were four of us and Annie was the smartest of all four of us. Now I don t know if that is fair. I mean, Annie gets the best grades and seemly without having to work to hard at it. But I think secretly she studies her butt off at home, but acts like it is no big deal. But we all do OK. Not like my brother. I don t know what his problem is... but he studies as much as me, but doesn t do as well. My parents have done many things to help him. When he was younger my mom would spank him for having a bad report card. And my dad had paid him so much for each grade he got. Like an A would be a dollar. B would be worth 50 cents. A C would be worth 25 cents. And a D would be worth no TV during a school night. And an F would be worth a spanking.
Now I objected to this when it was first brought up. It took me so much by surprise that I couldn t contain myself. Both my parents came up with the idea, but my mom discussed how it works to my brother. I was suppose to go mind my own business. But I couldn t help it. It was so unfair. So I made a fuss. My mom told me to be quite and mind my own business. I didn t take this. I started arguing with my mom and ended it with this is no fucking fair. I didn t even notice I had said this. My brother was just dumb founded; starring at me. I just thought he was being weird as usual. My mom didn t stand for this at all and gave it right back at me. We were standing facing each other exchanging words faster than any radio announcer could. I was stating how unfair her grading system was and she was scolding me on using such bad unlady like language. I really didn t hear what she was saying and she probably didn t hear what I was saying.
Then right in middle of a statement my dad came into the scene and grabbed me by my arm and roughly pulled me over to a kitchen chair. I just about landed on my fanny as my legs got all tangled up as he pulled me off balance. He yelled above everyone else that unlady like language would get unlady like treatment. I didn t know what he meant. But on the way over to the chair I did catch sight that he had the leather strap that was used when a spanking was at hand. I started stammering What is that for? And What did I do. Which always got the same answer when ever me or my brother asked in this kind of situation. But before I could regain my balance and understand what I had done I was laying over my dad lap. And the first whack from that strap landed on my tush. I was wearing these blue short shorts. When bent over they could be quite tight. And with the skimpy thin panties I was wearing that first swat turned my mouth into a mega horn. I was screaming for my life. But I didn t stop arguing my point.
Now it all seemed doubly unfair. My brother is getting the pay off for grades and I was getting spanked for objecting. But of course they said it wasn t for disagreeing. It was for having such a vocabulary.
Then the second swat landed. Right on my left cheek. Right through my shorts. It stung me. So at this point I had three stinging points on two swats from my dad. The two where my bottom points out when bent over and the left side of my bottom just above my hip. Then that strap started smacking me all over. Each one was making me kick and squirm. I would get smacked and my legs would stiffen. My body somehow told my brain that if I stayed in that position the stinging would not be as bad. The next smack struck and cause me to pull my legs in like I was sitting. I didn t do it on purpose. My body just did it. It was the stinging pain. This time my bottom was pushed up. I was crying by now. I tried to get my bottom out of the way, but the next one landed at the base of my bottom. My legs then shot out strait again and my bottom squeezed tight at the discomfort. Each time I let out a scream through the babbling crying pleading I was doing. I was never in the same position for each spank I received. I was bucking and kicking for all I was worth.
Then on about the seven smack I got my dad paused. He told my brother that he could go. I was bawling and hating my brother now. For some reason I felt that if he hadn t gotten the bad grades I wouldn t be getting this spanking. I could barely see my brother through my tears. He was in some kind of shock, staring at me getting this spanking. As he was on his way through the door my dad slid my shorts and underwear off my bottom. It was one motion. The split sec my bottom was exposed that strap smacked me dead center. I jerked away from watching my brother s departure. Smack came another before the burning feeling reached its maximum. I was kicking and squirming for all I was worth. I twisted and stiffened. Relaxed. What ever I thought would ease the pain. The only part of me that was being held was my waist. But I was inching my way forward. But as I did so my bottom raised and that 3-piece leather strap made perfect contact.
When my dad thought I had received enough smacks he yanked me to my feet. He scolded me that if he heard me talking to my mother like that again he would continue where he lift off. I was in so much pain that I didn t even bother to bend over to pull my shorts up. I just stood there rubbing my bared bottom. Or should I say my stinging bare bottom. It didn t occur to me that I should cover myself up. I just rubbed my burning fanny, getting the hot feeling to go down. I did shift my weight from foot to foot. That was a natural thing to do. So there I was with my shorts bunched up at my ankles, rubbing my fanny as my dad scolded me on behaving at all times. He also threw in that just because I was 13 didn t give me the right to cuss in the house. He started raising his voice as he scolded me. In fact it scared me. I then became aware that I was exposing myself. I quietly reached down and pulled my shorts up. I did this quickly because my dad had been known to give you another smack if he gets the right opportunity. He half looked like he was waiting for me to bend over.
But he didn t smack me anymore. Just sent me to my room to think about what I did and the consequences of being a naughty girl. Talking back would not be put up with. The usual yada yada yada you get. I bet everyone gets this kind of speech. I was pissed at getting this spanking.
It should never had happened.
I washed and dried my face in the bathroom and then shut myself in my room. I had enough of this kind of stuff. I mean. Is it that parents don t know how to discuss things. They have to hit their kids. Open your mouth and find a fist in it. That is not really true. My parents never hit or beat me. Only spanking on my bare bottom when they thought I deserved it. And I may have written a lot of the different times I have gotten spanked. But those spankings happened over a twelve year period. Like I didn t get spanked everyday or even every week. I think I mentioned before that I was a pretty good kid. I had my streaks though. And this was one of them.
Well I quickly inspected my bottom. And it did make me glow. About fifteen minutes after I got to my room I stated feeling very warm in the right places. I really hurt on my bottom. So when I felt that the coast was clear I made it for Linda s house. She lived down the street. I went out my bedroom window and along the house and on the run. I was free.
Linda was in her backyard by her pool. I have often gone to her after I had been given a spanking. Tonya was my best friend. But at times like this she usually never took my side. In fact, on one occasion when I did go to her she suggested that maybe I hadn t been spanked enough. This really threw me. So now I go to Linda. She is very compassionate. She jumped up from her sunbathing and took me into the deck house. She took down my shorts and panties to inspect the shape my fanny was in. She would give me some really nice rubbings after a spanking that really got my juices flowing. But we didn t and weren t gay.
We just loved each other. She worked on my bottom to get it feeling cooler. She rubbed some oil in on it and all over. It was worth the spanking to have this done to me. I always felt that way. Her hands were all so gentle as she needed my bottom. So when she felt that I had enough she helped pull my shorts up. It was her decision cause I could have laid their on the floor with her massaging my bottom forever.
We sat and complained about our parents for awhile. That also seems to be the first thing we talk about. Linda gets spankings from her parents too. So we are even closer because of that. It is something we share. But she never comes to my place after she has received a paddling.
Mostly because she is too scarred to sneak out of the house. When her mom says to go to her room, she never protests. But I never said she should.
So now I have pretty much gotten myself back to normal. My bottom stings, but not unbearable. And so we kind of just do some talking. Mostly on how I am going to get back into my house without being seen. I really never think of this as a problem. But Linda is always mothering me. At least trying to. She really feels for me at times. And she is always on my side. She also thinks it stinks that my brother gets all these deals. Because I get good grades I don t get the same deal.
Then Linda gets this really big grin of delight on her face. She asks me if I want to see something. And of course I say yes. I am thinking like maybe she knows her brother is standing in the middle of the living room at this very moment naked. Just ready for us to sneak a look.
But it turns out to be just a gun. It was her brother s gun. Oh, he is 14 and actually not such a bad guy. For his birthday it turns out that he got this pellet gun. When he turns 16 he will bet a hunting rifle. But to learn to shoot he was given this target pellet gun. But to me it looks like the real thing. Black cold steel and a long round barrel and a fancy black handgrip. There is this part that hold a gas cylinder that is what is used to propel the pellet. When I looked at the pellets they just looked like giant hawk droppings. Nothing to me. So Linda took different posses acting like a bad assed cop. Freeze she said as she stood there pointing the gun this way and that way. Bang... bang... came out of her voice. Then she stood normal and said in a casual who really cares voice Do you want to hold it? I first said no, but didn t resist much when she insisted. And it was awesome to hold.
The handle was such that it made a perfect fit with my hand. It was smoothly formed to fit the shooter s hand. I aimed it this way and that way. I took aim at her brother s short wave radio dial. Then moved it along the wall and took aim at his Def Leppard poster. Aiming at the crotch of who ever is part of the band. No Fooling, is right. I panned the whole room. This is really cool. I said. I never held a gun before. Then I took aim at the door where one of her brother s favorite sports whoever was. Right between the eyes. Then I quickly turned and took aim at the far wall and Pith-pith-pith. I had pulled the trigger three times like in the movies. It made this very odd sound and three holes appeared in the far wall. And Linda screamed WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!! I went pale. And a spit second later in runs Linda s mom.
She grabs the gun from my hand and starts in on us. First why we are in her brother s room. And then scolds us on shooting the gun in the house. And on just shooting the gun. I scream that I didn t know it was loaded. But that has no effect on her mom. She takes the gun and puts it high on the shelf above the bed. Then she grabs both Linda and me by our ears and takes us to her bedroom. By now Linda is jumping about trying to explain what happened. Her mom shouts that she know what has happened and what is going to happen.
She deposits Linda on the bed and tells her to stay there until she is ready for her. She takes me over to her dresser and sits on her makeup stole and pulls me over her lap. There is no formality to any of this. I am squirming and pleading that I am sorry. And my bottom is not over the spanking that it received earlier. But she pushes my shorts and panties together into a twisted glob at my knees. I now really go into convulsions. Knowing perfectly well that this is going to really hurt. I don t know if my bottom was still a little pink or not from my spanking earlier. But it still had that stinging feeling in it. Then smack came the feeling I dreaded. I was now really working hard to get off the lap. But nothing doing from her. Another smack landed, same spot. She just spanked me in two spots. On my bottom just above each thigh. On the flabby part of my bottom. Two and three smacks on the right cheeky and then a couple on the left. Then right and then left.
Each smack resulted in me stiffing and crying for all I was worth. There was no faking here. This hurt even worse than the strap. Linda s mom uses a wooden hairbrush that I swear was just made with the purpose of spanking in mind. It was wide and flat and glazed with something that. It just looked menacing.
She never lost a beat with that brush. She just held me tight and spanked for all she was worth. I was bucking like anything. As my bottom bucked up she met it with that awful brush. Then I stiffened and tried to get my bottom in a safe position. But there was no safe spot. Another awful smack landed and I stiffed again. Smack, smack. I was moving every which way.
Then the spanking was over and I was helped to my feet. My bottom was so sore now that I could only shuffle over to the bed. Crying my eyes out. Wobbling over to where Linda sat. Her face was white as a sheet. I couldn t just sit on the bed, I had to kind of crawl to get on it and laid on my tummy. I was not really interested in any problem that Linda might be having at this moment. Being I still had my shorts now down around my ankles it made it hard to get on the bed. For the longest time I had one knee on the bed and couldn t really lift my other leg up cause it was balancing me and the shorts were kind of tying me together. But then my mind gave out an alarm. That in this position I was sticking my fanny up and out for all the world to see. Most importantly that Linda s mom could have really given me another swat. But in a sudden fit of danger I twisted myself onto the bed and flipped over.
But Linda s mom was not out for that final swat. She was after Linda. She met Linda and guided her over to the seat as she had me. Linda was already in full tears and sorry condition. But it fell on deaf ears. At least uncaring ears. Now Linda s bathing suit was taken down to her knees. She wore a tight suit and this suit served as a tie of sorts. Linda was now bent over her mother s lap and because of the suit was pinned with her bottom protruding upward. That awful hair brush came crashing down again and again. Smack, smack, whamp! Snap, smack. Each one Linda gave out a grunt and a flood of tears. But her mom went right to business. Smacking with all she could. She was out to make a point. I could see her bottom turn from white to a pale pink. Then as the smacking continued it went to a rosy pink. Linda was bucking, which was all she could do. A little twisting but nothing that would get her off her mom s lap. Smack. She was spanking her in the same spots that she spanked me.
Linda was stating all kinds of promises for being a good girl for now and for ever. But her mom must have heard these promises before. She continued the spanking. No stopping and asking if Linda had learned a valuable lesson here. She was not ready to let up. Now Linda s bottom was turning a deeper rosy red. Pink was being left behind. Hee hee. Didn t mean the pun, but it fit.
While this was going on my bottom knew exactly what Linda was going through. I wasn t really enjoying Linda s spanking as much as I wanted. Mostly had to do with the stinging feeling I had on my bottom. I was crying just as hard as Linda was. I just wasn t screaming when a really solid smack found its mark.
When Linda s bottom was completely covered with this deep rosy red color her mom stopped the spanking and helped her up. Linda in a fit of pain kicked her suit completely off and started hoping about the room holding her bottom. Her mom giggled a little, but caught herself and went into scolding both of us. She waved her finger at us and said next time she wouldn t stop so soon. That if we do the slightest naughty thing she will bring us up to her room and give us a sound spanking. And told Linda that if she catches her just standing in her brother s room she would spank her. No questions asked. Just would be given a spanking.
As she scolded she helped me pull my shorts over my aching bottom.
And none to gentle either. I was in as much pain and fear as when I was lying over her lap. I was afraid that she would get all worked up and spank me again. This I couldn t take again. Not today. My poor bottom was stinging like crazy. Then the worst thing happened. She told Linda to get out of that suit and into her jambs. And get to bed. She was going to take me home to my mom.
No, Please. Don t tell my mom. I pleaded. But there was no discussion. She took me by my forearm and scurried me off to my house. I was bawling as much as I did while being spanked by Linda s mom. This was not fair at all. Not fair.
My mom met us at the back door. She thought I had gotten hurt and was being brought home for first aid. She was compassionate and wanted to know what had happened. But as Linda s mom explained what I had been up to the caring started to swing over to stern mean looks. And a Why, MaryJo, how could you do something like that? Then the grip from one grownup was released over to another.
My mom was livid. She went on and on about what I had done. I let all my emotions out and cried. I would do anything to get out of another spanking. But I also was feeling bad at what I had done. I was promising never to do that again. I didn t know it was loaded.
But my mom was not interested. I don t think it really was an issue. What was the problem was I had misbehaved in public with her best friends daughter. She just gave me a scolding about safety and that guns scare her. And took me gently by both arms and explained the whole danger to me eye to eye. Did I understand. She hugged me close then and kissed the top of my head. I was feeling really loved. And then my mom let loose and pulled me across the kitchen. She tucked me under her left arm and before I could protest she yanked my shorts down. I am sure she say my rosy bottom. But all that did was serve as a targeted boundary.
When my shorts were down she pulled out a wooden spoon. I used to get spanked with this wooden spoon sometimes when I was in grade school. But it was handy I guess. I tried to run away. But my mom s grip was too strong. She then sat on a kitchen chair and bent me over, almost head to toe. My legs were between hers and holding my legs tight. I couldn t move. I could only twitch my fanny. That spoon soon started smacking my bottom. Again and again. I screamed out with each swipe of that spoon on my bottom. I was going to think twice before I even get out of bed from now on. That is what my mom shouted with the rhythm of that spoon smacking my bottom. Each word she said was followed by a spank from that spoon.
My bottom was not so sore that it wasn t long then the spanking no longer really hurt. It was more of the indignity of being bent over like that. Showing all that I had to anyone that was near. It was during the end of my spanking that the back door opened and who ever it was, my brother really, came in and saw my cute bottom being attended to. My mom stopped spanking me for a second to tell him to go about his business and it better not be in the kitchen. My mom then finished me off with a good ten more spanks that stung like high heaven. Then I was pulled upright. But as soon as she released my legs I sat square down on the kitchen floor bawling. I know for sure that I would never pick up a gun again.
I didn t stay on the floor long. The stinging of my bottom was too great to seat on it. I was up and doing my pacing thing about the kitchen promising that I would never be naughty again. My mom just stood there with her arms folded in front of her and said MaryJo, don t make promises that you can t keep. I will help you mend your ways. Don t you never mind about that. I just sort of heard what she said. I was much to busy running this way and that in short quick steps trying to get the sting out of my bottom. But it would be a good three days before I didn t feel the effects of the spankings I got that day. And it was all my brother s fault. Him and his stupid grades.
MaryJo