Subject: Melanie's Big Brother Part 1 <repost> <m/ff>
From: Kent Stoneking <kentls001@worldnet.att.net>
Date: Sun, 13 Apr 1997 08:35:48 -0700
Autumn leaves swirled and rustled as Melanie and Lana scurried along the sidewalk towards Melanie's house. Dark clouds overhead foretold of rainstorms to come, but the two girls didn't care. On their way home from James Madison Grade School, they'd stopped at the local music store, pooled their funds, and purchased the latest New Kids on the Block album. Now they were on their way to Melanie's for an afternoon of listening pleasure.
Upon entering the house, the girls discovered Melanie's big brother, Sam, sitting in the living room watching television. Lana felt her heart start fluttering. Sam was definitely a BIG brother; a senior in high school, he was six feet, six inches of solid muscle. He'd made All-State in football last year and was receiving scholarship offers from several major colleges. Lana had had a crush on him for as long as she'd been friends with Melanie. Not that he ever paid any attention to her; twelfth-grade boys generally didn't have much use for fifth-grade girls.
"What's up, Peanut?" he asked Melanie as she entered the room.
"Don't call me that!" she snarled automatically. "Is Mom home?"
"Naw, she's still at the hospital." Melanie's mother was an emergency room nurse and often put in extra hours. Her father worked the noon-to-eight shift at an electronics manufacturing plant, meaning Sam and the girls were alone in the house.
"Well, Lana and I are going to my room and listen to our new album," said Melanie, brandishing the CD.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay, but keep the door shut and don't turn it up too loud. I gotta hear the tube," he instructed, then, as she turned to leave, added, "Peanut." Melanie threw him a dirty look as she headed up the stairs. Lana lingered behind for a moment, still somewhat awed by Sam's presence. He eventually noticed her staring and asked, "Something I can do for you?" She blushed and scampered after Melanie.
In her room, Melanie fired up the stero and started the CD. The girls sat on Melanie's bed, making girltalk and humming along to the music. Lana longed to know more about Sam, but knew that Melanie didn't like to talk about him. Sam and Melanie engaged in the usual younger sibling/older sibling hostility that Lana, an only child, couldn't relate to.
The group's latest hot single started; Melanie exclaimed, "Oh, I love this song!" and turned the volume all the way up. Both girls sang along, until their impromptu "concert" was interrupted by a loud pounding on the door.
"Melanie, I told you to keep it quiet! Now turn that crap DOWN!" roared Sam. Melanie muttered something under her breath, but dutifully went to the stereo and lowered the volume. "That's better! Now keep it there! If I have to come up here again, I'll turn you over my knee and spank you!" The girls listened quietly to the sound of Sam's footsteps stomping off down the hallway and back down the stairs.
Sam's threat unnerved Lana. "Mel ... Sam wouldn't really spank you, would he?" she asked her friend. "Naw, he's full of it," responded Melanie, but her pouty expression made Lana doubt her words. Deep down, Lana thought, she was curious about what a spanking from Sam would be like ...
The girls sat quietly for a few moments, then an upbeat dance number came on the CD. Melanie leapt to the stereo and cranked up the volume. "Come on, Lana!" she shouted.
"But Sam said -- " Lana began.
"Oh, screw Sam! Let's dance!"
So the girls danced, whirling around the room, losing themselves in the music, oblivious to each other, oblivious to the world around them ... oblivious to the sound of loud footsteps approaching.
Oblivious, that is, until the door burst open and Sam stormed into the room. He met Melanie halfway across the floor and scooped her up under one arm. Turning the stereo off, he carried his squirming, squealing sister over to her bed, sat down, and pulled her into position across his lap. Sam proved himself a man of his word as he flipped Melanie's skirt up and started smacking her bottom.
Lana stood transfixed for a few moments, paralyzed by the sight of Melanie's kicking bare legs and Sam's hand bouncing off her pantied rump. After four smacks, though, her sense of loyalty to her friend kicked in and she ran at Sam, shouting "You let her go!" and pounding her fists against his shoulder.
Sam merely responded, "Oh, you want some too, eh?", grabbed Lana's blouse, and yanked her across his knees, alongside Melanie. Lana felt her skirt raised up around her waist. She struggled to get away, but it was useless; Sam could easily restrain half a dozen girls Lana's size.
Sam gave Lana four solid smacks, to catch her up to Melanie, then settled into a semi-repeating pattern of one spank for Melanie, one for Lana, two for Melanie, two for Lana, one more each, and so on. After a while, he started varying the swats in a seemingly random fashion (four spanks for Melanie, then one for Lana, then two more for Melanie, then five for Lana), so that neither girl could anticipate where the next blow would fall.
Those first four swats fully satisfied Lana's curiosity, and she had no interest in any further experience. The decision on when to stop wasn't hers, though, it was Sam's, and he seemed in no hurry to end the spanking. Melanie punctuated her squeals with some very uncomplimentary remarks about Sam, which only earned her a few extra-hard spanks. Never a slow learner, Lana made sure she didn't repeat Melanie's error.
As the stinging in her bottom grew to a constant throbbing, Lana started trying to distance herself from the pain. She imagined herself a fly on the wall, watching the scene from a distance. She pictured how they must look, stretched out over Sam's lap; four upturned bare legs, kicking furiously, and four panty-clad buttock cheeks, bouncing and wiggling under his hand. The image struck her as so absurd that she almost started giggling -- until the thunderous impact of the next spank jolted her back to reality.
Sam spanked the girls until their panties were warm through and through, then released them. He told Melanie (who was rubbing her bottom with both hands, trying to massage the sting out), "Now, I better not hear another sound out of you for the rest of the day. If I do, I'll put you back over my knee, only this time I'll pull down your panties and spank your bare bottom!" He then turned to Lana (who was similarly engaged) and added, "And that goes double for you!" His point made, Sam left the girls to their commiseration.
After a few minutes, Lana regained some control over herself. She turned to Melanie. "I thought you said he wouldn't spank us," she said, wiping her eyes.
"I didn't think he'd really do it," Melanie wailed. "Not in front of you."
Lana didn't find this too comforting. "Does ... does he spank you a lot?"
"Not a whole lot," Melanie sniffled. "This is the first time since last summer."
"How about your parents? Do they still spank you?"
"Sometimes. I got it from Dad a couple of weeks ago." Melanie then turned the tables. "How about you? Do you still get spanked?"
Lana thought for a moment. "Not since I was six. Except on my birthday."
Melanie gulped. "I'm sorry, Lana. We'll get back at him."
"But how?" Lana asked. "He's so big and strong."
"I don't know, Lana, but we will. We have to. He can't get away with this."
Lana, still doubtful, checked her watch. "Maybe ... but I think I better go home now."
First, though, Lana stopped in the bathroom and washed her face. She then soaked a washcloth in cold water and applied it to her bare bottom. The heat subsided a bit -- about the difference between the surface temperature of the Sun and that of the planet Mercury, Lana guessed as she pulled her panties back into place.
Lana left by the back door, so she wouldn't have to see Sam sitting smugly in the living room. She wondered how she could ever have had a crush on such a brute. Melanie was right, she decided firmly; somehow, they would get their revenge.
Lunchtime, and the schoolyard was full of screaming, running children, working off their excess energy before returning to class. In one corner of the yard, though, two girls huddled close together, having an intensely private conversation. It was Melanie and Lana, comparing notes about the double spanking they'd received from Melanie's older brother, Sam, the day before.
"Is your bottom still sore?" asked Melanie, taking a bite of her baloney and cheese sandwich.
"Some," admitted Lana, sipping milk from her thermos. "How about yours?"
"It's not too bad. Lana, what are we going to do about Sam?"
Lana tried the obvious first step for children facing a seemingly insurmountable problem. "Did you tell your parents about what Sam did?"
"No, he did, as soon as they got home," Melanie said, scowling.
"And?"
"I got a lecture for not listening to Sam and for playing my stereo too loud. Dad said I was lucky he didn't spank me again."
Lana rolled her eyes. This was so unfair! "Did you tell your folks?" ventured Melanie.
"Oh, no! I'm way too embarrassed! I don't want anybody to know I got spanked!"
The girls agreed; they'd have to get revenge themselves. They couldn't count on parents or other outsiders for assistance.
"So what are we going to do?" asked Melanie, plaintively.
Lana was always inclined to be conciliatory. "Maybe ... maybe we could just talk to him."
"Talk to him?" Melanie sounded scornful. "What good would that do?"
"We can explain to him that it was wrong for him to spank us. Maybe he'll see that he was wrong, and apologize."
"Him? Apologize? Lana, he'll never apologize! Not in a million years!"
Lana was still reluctant to admit that her childhood idol had feet of clay. "He might. It won't hurt to try. Anyway, do you have any better ideas?"
None, Melanie had to admit. The girls perfected their plan as the school bell rang.
After the short walk to Melanie's house, the girls found Sam in his usual position in the living room, in front of the TV set. Melanie boldly walked up to her brother and said, "Sam, we want to talk to you."
"Wait for a commercial, Peanut."
"No, Sam, NOW!" insisted Melanie.
Struck by the note of concern in his sister's voice, Sam sat up and punched the mute button on the remote. He gave the girls his full attention as they took turns explaining that they were too old to be spanked; that what they'd done yesterday wasn't a spanking offense; that if they were to be spanked, it should be their parents doing it, not Sam; and, therefore, it was completely unfair for Sam to spank them. When their presentation was done, Sam leaned back and steepled his hands before his mouth, obviously deep in thought.
Then he turned to Lana and said, "It seems to me, Lana, that if you're upset about being spanked yesterday, you should be mad at Melanie, not me."
"Why? You're the one who spanked me," asked Lana, not following his logic.
"True, but your spanking was a direct result of Melanie's misbehavior. If she'd been behaving herself, you wouldn't have gotten spanked."
"Sam, that's a bunch of bull -- " Melanie interjected, but Sam cut her off. "Look. You got spanked because you tried to stop me from spanking Melanie. If Melanie hadn't been playing the stereo too loud, I wouldn't have spanked her. Therefore, your spanking was entirely Melanie's fault. Understand?"
Slowly, Lana nodded. Sam was making a lot of sense ...
"Lana!" Melanie screamed, but Sam plowed ahead. "So, the only fair thing now is for you to spank Melanie. Here, I'll even help you."
Finally seeing Sam's intent, Melanie tried to flee, but her brother's football-honed reflexes were too fast. He caught Melanie's arm, pulled her to him, and positioned her over his knee with her skirt raised. "Go ahead, Lana, spank her," he invited.
"No, Lana, don't!" cried Melanie, but Sam gave her a resounding swat and said, "You keep quiet, or I'll spank you myself."
Trying desperately to sort out her feelings, Lana stared at Melanie, noting how her round bottom strained against the tight fabric of her panties. Deep down, she felt, part of her really did want to spank Melanie. Tentatively, she reached out and gave Melanie a light pat on the rump.
"Come on, Lana! Harder! You can do better than that!" said Sam. "Here, I'll show you how it's done." He took hold of Lana's wrist, raised her arm, and brought her hand down, full force, on her friend's buttocks. Melanie howled and started kicking furiously, but Sam grabbed her legs and held her firmly in place.
"Go on, Lana," Sam urged, "spank her again." Smack! "Harder!" SMACK! "That's it! Keep it up!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
With Sam's encouragement, Lana soundly spanked Melanie, working out all her frustrations from yesterday's spanking. Sam was right! SMACK! It was all Melanie's fault! SMACK! Melanie deserved everything she got, and more! SMACK! Lana would see that she learned her lesson --
Abruptly, Sam caught Lana's arm, saying, "That's it, she's had enough." He lifted Melanie back to her feet, but kept hold of both girls by one wrist. He then addressed his red-faced and sore-bottomed sister: "Now, Melanie, do you think it was fair for Lana to spank you like that?" Melanie shook her head. Lana didn't like the direction this was heading. She tried to pull away, but Sam held her tight.
"Don't you think that you should spank Lana, to make things even?"
Melanie glared at Lana, then turned and nodded firmly to Sam. "Okay, here we go, then!" Sam released Melanie, pulled Lana across his lap, flipped her skirt up, and gripped her firmly about the waist and knees, leaving her completely helpless with her bottom vulnerable.
Melanie didn't need any coaching from Sam; she starting repaying her friend in kind, with spanks as hard as any she'd received. Lana kicked and wiggled for all she was worth, but knew there was no escape. Her cries of "No, please, Melanie, stop!" were ignored, just as she'd ignored Melanie's pleas when it was her turn.
In a way, Lana thought, this spanking was much worse than the one she'd gotten yesterday. The pain wasn't as bad (although the spanks certainly stung), but the humiliation of being spanked by her best friend -- and the knowledge that she'd just inflicted similar treatment on Melanie -- were more than she could take. She buried her face against the sofa and let the tears flow.
Eventually, Sam stopped Lana's spanking the same way he'd halted Melanie's. He released Lana; she climbed slowly to her feet, rubbing her bottom and studiously not looking at Melanie. Sam sat back on the couch and said, "Is everybody happy now?"
"No," said Melanie, sullenly, and Lana shook her head.
"You're not? I suppose you want to spank me."
The girls exchanged glances. The idea of spanking Sam was very appealing right then.
"All right, go ahead. I won't even resist."
The girls couldn't believe their ears. Was Sam actually volunteering to get spanked? They eyed him for a moment, thoughtfully, then Melanie decided to test the waters. "We can't spank you when you're sitting down. Stand up."
"Uh uh." Sam shook his head. "I won't resist, but I won't help you either. If you want me up, you have to pull me up. Here," he said, extending his arms to the two girls.
Slowly and cautiously, Melanie took hold of one of Sam's arms and started pulling. Lana soon joined her on the other arm. Both girls pulled and tugged, but their efforts were useless; trying to budge Sam's dead weight was like trying to tow an ocean liner.
Just as Lana was about to give up in disgust, Sam lunged forward and yanked both girls face down across his lap, Melanie facing one way and Lana the other. Using his left hand on Melanie and his right on Lana, Sam pulled up the girls' skirts and administered six more stinging smacks to their already sore rumps before they were able to wiggle away. The girls fled to the sanctuary of Melanie's room, Sam's mocking laughter following them up the stairs.
Safe from any further depredations, Lana's first thought was to make amends with her friend. "I'm s-s-sorry I s-s-spanked you, M-m-melanie," she choked out, barely holding back the tears.
"It w-w-wasn't your f-f-fault, Lana. It was S-s-sam's. I'm s-s-sorry, too," said Melanie, in much the same condition.
"It's OK," Lana managed to get out, then both girls broke down, collapsing into each other's arms and weeping freely. When the tears and sobbing subsided, the girls agreed that the time for talk was over. This meant WAR!
While eating breakfast the next morning, Lana ruefully reviewed the prior day's events. Not only had Sam not apologized for spanking Melanie and Lana, he'd talked them into spanking each other! Then he'd spanked both of them again, afterwards. Lana couldn't wait to get to school, to see if Melanie felt as miserable as she did.
To Lana's surprise, though, her friend greeted her not with a mournful frown, but a wide and mischievous grin. "I've got the perfect plan for getting back at Sam. I'll tell you at lunchtime," she whispered to Lana as the girls made their way to class.
Lana could hardly concentrate on her schoolwork all morning. What was Melanie's plan? How could two girls their size possibly get revenge on Melanie's gargantuan brother? Finally the lunch bell rang. As the girls grabbed their brown bags and headed for the schoolyard, Melanie outlined her plan:
"Sam has a late football practice tonight. He always comes in through the garage door when he comes home. We can string a rope in front of the doorway and wait for him to come in. When he does, you pull the rope tight and trip him, and I'll smack him good with the broom!"
"Won't he just catch us and spank us again?" Lana asked.
"No way! My mom will be home, and he never spanks me when she's around. If he tries anything, we'll just explain why we did it, and he'll be in big trouble."
Lana could see no holes in the plan, so she agreed. The rest of the school day dragged slowly by. Lana easily obtained permission from her parents to spend the afternoon and evening over at Melanie's. After dinner, the girls snuck out to the garage and found a piece of rope just the right length for their purposes. The garage opened into a small utility room, with a sink right next to the door. The girls tied one end of the rope to the sink's drainpipe, then secreted it there for later.
The evening passed slowly as the girls sat in Melanie's room, listening to the stereo (with the volume carefully lowered) and waiting for Sam. Finally, they heard his car coming up the street and pulling into the driveway.
Quickly, the girls ran downstairs to the utility room door. Lana grabbed the rope and pulled it loosely across the doorway while Melanie fetched the broom. After an interminable wait, the door opened. Lana pulled the rope tight as a shadowy figure stepped through the doorway. The strain nearly tore the rope from Lana's grasp, but she held tight, and the figure toppled to the floor.
Instantly, Lana knew something was wrong. It wasn't tall enough to be Sam! "Melanie, don't!" she tried to warn her friend, but too late. Melanie brought the broom down in a crushing blow, right where she figured Sam's rump should be. "OW!" the figure cried -- but it was a feminine, not masculine, voice. In fact, it sounded horribly like Melanie's mother.
Lana switched on the light, and the girls' worst fears were confirmed. Stretched out on the utility room floor was, indeed, Melanie's mother. The broomstick had caught her squarely in the middle of her back.
The woman climbed slowly to her feet, her look of confusion changing to anger as she realized what had happened. "Just what do you girls think you're doing?" she demanded.
"We're sorry, Mom. We thought you were Sam. What were you doing outside?" Melanie explained and asked.
"I was putting the recycling out for tomorrow. Girls, this is very dangerous! I could have broken an ankle tripping or hurt myself falling!" "Mom, like I said, I thought you were Sam -- " Melanie started, but her mother cut her off. "So you want to injure Sam and possibly end his football career, do you? Football is the only way Sam'll ever get to college. Did either of you think about that?"
The girls hadn't. They hung their heads in shame. Melanie's mother continued, "You march right upstairs to your room, young lady. I'll be up to deal with you in a minute. And, Lana, I think you'd better go home now." "But Mom!" Melanie wailed, but her mother wasn't having any of it. "No buts, young lady! Now march!"
The girls said their goodbyes, then Lana headed for the door as Melanie trudged slowly, woefully, up the stairs to her room. Lana wondered if Melanie's mother was going to spank her. She waited for a few minutes outside the house, below the window of Melanie's room. Sure enough, she soon heard the distinct sounds of a palm hitting a backside, accompanied by Melanie's crying.
Lana was about to head home when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up -- and up, and up some more. It was Sam.
"Decided to hang around and see what went on, eh?" he asked. Lana could only nod. "Good thing I went across the street for a minute, or that might have been me in there." So that was what happened!
Lana really wanted to go home, but Sam kept his grip. He looked up at the window. "Peanut's really getting it, isn't she?" Lana nodded again, more uncomfortably this time. Sam switched his gaze to Lana. "You know, you deserve to be punished, too."
"My parents will take care of that when I get home," Lana responded, then was chilled to hear Sam reply, "Well, I'll just make sure of that right now." Before she could move, he spun her around to face the same way he did, then reached down, put his arm around her waist, and scooped her up. Lana found herself held upside down, her knees somewhat above Sam's shoulders, and her rump only a few inches below his face. Her skirt, obedient to the laws of gravity, slid downwards, leaving her panty-clad bottom exposed and vulnerable.
Lana could feel the blood rushing to her head -- then she felt it rushing back upwards as Sam smacked her behind. She squealed loudly. "If you make that much noise, the whole neighborhood will hear, and everyone will see you spanked like this. Is that what you want?" Sam hissed.
An upside-down spanking in public was the last thing Lana wanted. She covered her mouth with both hands, managing to stifle her cries as Sam spanked her soundly. After two dozen hard swats, he put her down. She scurried off home, rubbing her eyes with one hand and her bottom with the other.
Lana's tears had subsided by the time she got home. At least, she reflected, her parents thought she was too old to spank, so whatever further punishment she was in for wouldn't be as painful as what she'd already gotten.
When she entered the house, though, Lana got yet another unpleasant surprise: her father was seated on the living room sofa, waiting for her, holding the hairbrush that he spanked her with when she was a little girl. "Come here, Lana," he instructed. She did, gulping at the sight of the hairbrush. Surely he didn't intend to ...
"Melanie's mother called me and told me what the two of you did tonight. That was very foolish behavior, and somebody could have been seriously hurt. She told me how she punished Melanie, and she suggested I do the same to you. I'm afraid that I agree with her."
He did intend to! "Daddy, I'm too old for that," she whined. "You're also too old to act the way you did tonight. If you act like a little child, I'll treat you like one. Now come here and bend over my knee!"
"But, Daddy," she started again, then stopped abruptly. "But what?" he asked. She'd been about to tell him about Sam already spanking her. That would have been way too embarrassing, though. Best to keep quiet and take her medicine.
"I'm waiting," her father informed her. "But nothing," she sighed, and obediently laid down across his lap. If Lana's father noticed any indications of her earlier spanking, he didn't say anything. Instead, he raised her skirt and, holding her firmly in place, spanked her soundly for the second time that night. The impact of the hairbrush crashing down on her already-tender cheeks caused Lana to cry and struggle much more than she ordinarily would have. Her father mistook her tears of pain for contrition, and ended the spanking sooner than he'd planned to.
In her bed that night, Lana thought things over carefully while she tried to soothe her aching rump. It seemed the girls' revenge would have to wait until they developed a really foolproof plan. In the meantime, Lana wasn't anxious to receive more of the same treatment.
"They're called Chinese handcuffs."
Lana dubiously eyed the thin bamboo tube in Melanie's hands as the two sat in a corner of the schoolyard. Almost a week had passed since the "broomstick incident" had gotten Melanie spanked by her mother, and Lana spanked by both her father and Sam, Melanie's brother. This piece of bamboo, according to Melanie, was the "perfect thing" the girls needed to get revenge on Sam for the spanking that started the whole affair.
"I don't know about this, Melanie. How do they work?"
"Simple. You put one finger in one end, like this," Melanie inserted one of Lana's forefingers into the tube, "and the other in the other end, like this," and in went the other forefinger. "Now, try and get loose." Lana pulled and pulled, but couldn't budge either finger. "See? You can't get loose! The only way to get these off is to pinch them in the middle, like this." Melanie pinched the tube, releasing Lana.
"I see," said Lana. "But how will this help us get back at Sam?"
Melanie explained, "Mom's working late tonight, so Sam'll be home alone. I'll tell him it's a magic trick, and get him to close his eyes and put his hands behind his back. Then I'll put the handcuffs on him while you tie his shoes together. He'll be helpless, and we can do whatever we want!"
Lana was still doubtful. "Will Sam's fingers even fit in there?"
Melanie said, "This is the child's size. I've got an adult size too."
"Are you sure it'll hold him?"
"Yes, I'm sure! Now, do you want to do this or not?"
"I guess so ... but maybe we better put on thicker underwear before we try it."
Melanie giggled and gave her friend a playful shove as the school bell rang.
That afternoon, it appeared that the girls' plan would work flawlessly. Sam was, indeed, alone in the house, perched as usual in front of the TV set. Melanie strode boldly up to him and said, brightly, "Hi, Sam!"
"Hi, Peanut!" Sam returned her greeting. "Hi, Lana! What's up?"
Melanie played her part well, not even grimacing at the hated nickname. "We have a magic trick we'd like to show you."
"Sure," he said, clicking off the TV. "Go ahead!"
"You have to stand up." He did. "Now, close your eyes and put your hands behind your back."
"Why?" he asked. "It's a surprise. Just do it!" Melanie pleaded.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Okay," he said, complying with his sister's wishes.
"No peeking, now!" Melanie instructed as she started to work with the handcuffs. Meanwhile, Lana knelt and gently tugged on his shoelaces.
Sam whistled softly, bouncing up and down on his toes as the girls worked their wiles. "Can I look now?" he asked after a few moments.
"Not yet!" Melanie answered. She checked on Lana's progress. Hurry up! she mouthed at her friend. I'm trying! Lana mouthed back. One of the knots refused to come undone. Then, at last, she got it loose. Quickly she tied both shoelaces together, tightly, and stepped back.
"Okay, Sam, open your eyes!" cried Melanie as she circled in front of her brother. Sam did so. "Can you get loose?" she asked.
Sam struggled with the handcuffs, then shook his head. "Neat trick, Peanut," he said. "Let me go now."
"No," answered Melanie, grinning mischeviously. "I'm warning you, Peanut. Let me go now or I'll -- "
"Or you'll what?" Melanie responded in her best "brat" voice. "Spank me again? I'd like to see you try." "Yeah," Lana added, getting into the spirit, "just try and spank us now!" The girls circled around Sam, chanting "Sam can't spank us! Sam can't spank us!"
Still struggling to free his arms, Sam muttered "I'll teach you little brats!" and tried to take a step towards Melanie. His shoelaces held, and, losing his balance, he toppled headlong onto the carpet.
This was the moment the girls had waited for. Melanie quickly scampered over and sat on Sam's back, while Lana took up a similar position on his knees. "Not so big now, are you, Sam?" Melanie teased her brother. "Let's spank him, Lana! Let's see how he likes it!"
Suddenly, Sam rolled over, throwing the girls clear and almost crushing Melanie, who scrambled free at the last moment. Her plan momentarily foiled, Melanie resorted to Option B.
"Well, maybe we won't spank you ... but we can still do what we want. Come on, Lana, let's go listen to the stereo. Loud, with the door open. Enjoy your afternoon, Sam!" she taunted as the girls headed for the stairs.
"Melanie, I'll give you one last chance. Let me go, now, or else!"
Melanie turned and went back to Sam, standing by his head. Lana followed. "Sam, I wouldn't let you go in a million years," Melanie said.
"Suit yourself," replied Sam, then, with a mighty effort, tore the Chinese handcuffs in half, freeing his arms. Whoever designed the handcuffs hadn't counted on a six-foot-six, two-hundred-seventy-five pound prisoner.
The girls responded to Sam's breaking the handcuffs in the same manner as the crowd in the theater reacted when King Kong burst his chains: they panicked and tried to flee. Melanie made it up the stairs, but Lana was a bit too slow. Sam's arm shot out, catching her by an ankle. He dragged her back to him, then tucked her under his legs as he sat up and undid the knot in his shoelaces. His feet free, Sam stood up, picked up Lana, and bodily threw her onto the sofa. "You wait right there!" he instructed, before heading up the stairs after his sister.
Reflecting later, Lana realized that she could easily have slipped away while Sam was occupied with Melanie. That option didn't occur to her at the time, though, and she sat paralyzed, listening to the ongoing struggle upstairs. In just a few moments, Sam came back down the stairs, carrying his kicking, squirming sister slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Returning to the sofa, Sam sat down beside Lana and turned Melanie across his lap. He then put Lana into position alongside her friend -- just like their first spanking, Lana thought ruefully. She wished she had put on thicker underwear as she felt her skirt flipped up.
Before initiating the spanking, Sam decided a short lecture was in order. "I'm going to show you two what happens to bratty little girls who play naughty tricks on people. Peanut, I'm sure this was your idea, so you're going to get it worse." Melanie shouted "No! Don't!" and renewed her wriggling. Lana looked back over her shoulder and saw that Sam was peeling down Melanie's panties. She added her struggles to her friend's, but to no avail.
His sister's fanny properly bared, Sam raised his hand and went to work. This time, he stuck to a pattern of one spank on Melanie's bare rump, followed by one on Lana's pantied behind. While he warmed the girl's bottoms, Sam continued his lecture, punctuating each comment with a pair of sharp spanks.
"Now, you two listen" SMACK! SMACK! "and listen good." SMACK! SMACK! "I will spank you whenever" SMACK! SMACK! "wherever" SMACK! SMACK! "and however" SMACK! SMACK! "I think you" SMACK! SMACK! "deserve it." SMACK! SMACK! "I hope" SMACK! SMACK! "I'm making myself" SMACK! SMACK! "clear!" SMACK! SMACK!
Lana wished he would just shut up. His voice made her focus on the spanking; consequently, it seemed much longer and harder than the others she'd received at Sam's hands. Finally, Sam decided he'd driven the lesson home long and hard enough, and released the two. They walked slowly out of the room and up the stairs, Melanie pulling her panties back up as she went. Sam followed the girls to the base of the stairs. As they reached the top, he called out, "Now, behave yourself. If I have to spank you again, it'll be bare bottom for both of you!"
Lana felt her friend stiffen at Sam's words, then Melanie whirled, eyes ablaze. "I hate you!" she screamed at Sam. "You're mean, and cruel, and you do bad things, and I never want to see you again! I hope you die! I hate you! Do you hear me? I HATE YOU!"
"Melanie, come on, it's okay," murmured Lana, fearful of Sam's further wrath. She looked at Sam to gauge his reaction, and was surprised to see him looking not angry, but very thoughtful. In fact, Lana thought, Sam almost looked like he was ashamed of himself.
Her tirade ended, Melanie turned and stomped off to her bedroom, dragging Lana along with her. Melanie sat fuming on her bed as Lana tried to soothe both her friend and her aching rump. After a long, angry silence, Melanie finally spoke.
"That does it, Lana. He's NEVER spanked my bare bottom before. We'll get him good for this. I don't know how, but we'll get him."
"That's right, Melanie," agreed Lana, but her thoughts were elsewhere. What had that strange expression on Sam's face meant?
Two weeks had passed since Melanie and Lana's last attempt at revenge on Melanie's brother, Sam, via the Chinese handcuffs. Although both girls still harbored thoughts of vengeance, neither could come up with a foolproof plan. In the meantime, they were avoiding the brute through the simple but effective means of hanging out at Lana's house instead of Melanie's. This wasn't their first choice; Melanie had a nicer room and more "toys" than Lana. On the other hand, neither girl had gotten spanked for two weeks.
This morning, though, Lana's parents had a rather unpleasant surprise for her; they were going to a "weekend retreat" put on by Lana's father's employer. She would be spending the weekend at Melanie's.
Lana wasn't overjoyed at the thought of being thrust back within Sam's range; but, she reasoned, Melanie's parents would be around, so maybe he would behave himself.
At school that day, though, Melanie had some bad news of her own: her parents were going to a party that same Friday evening, and wouldn't be home until late at night.
"Did they arrange for a sitter?" Lana asked.
"Yeah," Melanie replied grimly. "Sam."
"Sam?" Lana's heart froze. "Sam's going to be watching us Friday night? Couldn't your parents get somebody else?"
"You think I didn't ask them that?" Melanie snarled. "I begged and pleaded with them to hire another sitter, but they said there was no sense in doing that when they had Sam."
"We're doomed," Lana wailed. "What are we going to do?"
"We'll find some way to get back at him. I don't know how, but I'll think of something."
Privately, Lana had her doubts. All their previous attempts at "getting back" at Sam had resulted in sore bottoms for both, usually at Sam's enormous hands. The last time, he'd spanked Melanie's bare behind, and he'd threatened to spank both girls' bare bottoms next time. Lana was certain he'd make good on his threat.
Friday came all too soon; after school, Lana threw some clothes in her overnight bag and trudged slowly to Melanie's. Walking up the drive, she felt like a condemned criminal heading for the electric chair -- only, she thought woefully, she likely wouldn't be sitting any time soon.
She found Melanie perched stoically on the sofa as her parents flurried around the house, preparing for their night out, completely oblivious to the girls' distress. "Ah, Lana, you're here," Melanie's mother greeted her. "We have to leave now. Sam called and said he'd be home in about half an hour. You'll be all right by yourselves for that long. Just lock the door and don't let anyone in. Be good girls for Sam tonight, okay?" Melanie's parents kissed her goodbye, then whisked out the door, leaving the girls to await the arrival of their arch-nemesis. Melanie watched out the window until her parents' car disappeared up the road, then turned to Lana. "I know how we can get back at Sam," she said.
"How?" Lana asked.
"See those hooks up there?" Melanie responded, pointing upwards. Lana looked up, seeing a series of hooks embedded in the ceiling. "Mom's getting ready to put up some hanging plants. I worked out a way we can hang a bucket of water over the front door. When Sam comes in, we'll dump the bucket on him and soak him good."
"Melanie, what good will that do? He'll only spank us again -- and he'll be madder."
"You know him, Lana. He's going to spank us anyway. This way, at least we'll have earned it."
Again, Lana had her doubts. They'd provoked most of their spankings from Sam. Another objection occurred to her. "Doesn't he usually come in through the garage?"
"We'll lock that door. That way, he has to come in through the front."
Lana still wasn't convinced. "Maybe if we just stay in your room, with the door shut, he'll leave us alone -- "
"NO!" Melanie shouted, startling Lana. "This is my house too, and I'm tired of running away from Sam! I'm going to do this, and if you were really my friend, you'd help me!"
Since her bare bottom spanking, Melanie's feelings toward Sam had gone from mild hostility to extreme bitterness. Her bile sometimes shocked and worried Lana. But she couldn't hardly blame Melanie for feeling as she did; after all, Lana reasoned, she'd been very upset with her big brother if he ever spanked her on the bare bottom (if she had a big brother, that is).
The prospect of losing her best friend outweighed the threat of another spanking from Sam. Reluctantly, Lana agreed to assist in Melanie's plan.
The girls secured a metal bucket from the utility room, then went to the garage in search of some rope. They couldn't find any. (Melanie's folks must have locked it all up after the broomstick incident, Lana thought). Momentarily stymied, Melanie soon found an alternative. "We'll have to use string. Come on, Lana, I know where we can get some."
"String?" Lana's doubts emerged anew. "Are you sure that'll hold it?" "Yes, I'm sure! Now come on!"
The girls soon located the family string supply. After filling the bucket, they carried it to the entranceway and set it before the front door. Lana then fetched a chair while Melanie tied one end of the string to the bucket handle. She then threaded the string through several of the hooks. To test the system, the girls pulled on the string, raising the bucket slowly to the ceiling. Melanie's plan proved fruitful; the bucket balanced precariously in such a position that one more tug on the string would invert it, spilling its contents on anyone below. The girls then lowered the bucket carefully back to the floor, awaiting Sam's arrival.
Lana sat restlessly on the couch as Melanie stood guard by the window. Finally, she spotted Sam's car coming up the street and pulling into the driveway. "Hurry, Lana!" she shouted, as both girls ran to their posts. Taking hold of the string, they carefully hoisted the bucket to the ceiling, then waited, neither daring to breath.
The wait seemed forever, but it was only a few seconds before the front door opened, revealing Sam's huge form. "Melanie? Lana? You home?" he shouted, stepping through the doorway.
"NOW!" shouted Melanie, and both girls yanked hard on the string -- and everything went wrong.
With a loud SNAP, the string broke. The bucket plummeted straight down, catching Sam a glancing blow just over his right temple. He swayed for a moment, then, like a tall tree under a lumberman's axe, toppled to the floor, coming to rest on his back, the bucket, now empty of its contents, beside him.
"Sam!" Melanie screamed as both girls ran to his side. Sam lay completely still, his eyes closed. Blood flowed copiously from a gash in his head.
"Is he ... dead?" ventured Lana.
"No, he's still breathing," Melanie responded, kneeling by one side of her brother's supine body. Lana knelt on the other side. "He's hurt bad, though."
"What do we do now, Melanie?" Lana asked, plaintively.
"I don't know. I never meant to really hurt him."
Suddenly, Sam's eyes shot open and he sat up. The girls recoiled, but not quickly enough; Sam caught each one around the waist in his enormous arms. He climbed rapidly to his feet, carrying the kicking, squirming girls back into the living room.
Here we go again, thought Lana. But Sam didn't turn the girls over his knee; instead, he set them, gently, on the couch. He then knelt down before them, putting everyone on the same eye level.
"Now please, just listen to me. I've got something I need to say to both of you." The girls sat quietly, still somewhat awed by Sam's sudden rejuvenation (and surprised to find themselves sitting on their bottoms, rather than laying on their stomachs). He took a deep breath and started in. "Girls, when I found out you were going to be here tonight, and needed a sitter, I asked for the job. I wanted to be with you tonight."
"Why, so you could spank us again?" asked Melanie, scornfully. Now that it seemed Sam _wasn't_ badly hurt, her concern for him vanished.
"No, to try and make up with you. The other day, Melanie, when you told me you hated me, that really hurt me."
"Then you shouldn't have spanked us!" Melanie snapped, not convinced of her brother's sincerity.
"That's exactly right. I shouldn't have spanked either of you, and I'm very sorry that I did."
Melanie was determined to test Sam's resolve to the limit. "Why should we believe any of this?"
Sam sighed deeply. "Well, maybe this will convince you." He reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a small, oblong box, which he handed to Melanie. "I stopped by the video store on the way home and picked this up. I thought maybe we could watch it tonight."
Melanie gasped in surprise, then handed the box to Lana. She gasped, too. The box contained a videotape of the New Kids on the Block in concert.
"Now are you ready to listen to me?" Sam inquired, gently. Both girls nodded and sat silently as Sam unfolded his heart.
"I want you both to know that this whole mess is completely my fault. The first spanking I gave you was because I was mad at you. No one should ever get spanked in anger. After that, things just snowballed out of control. I never took you seriously, and I never considered how the spankings were affecting you. I never should have spanked either of you, and I'm deeply ashamed that I did.
"Melanie, you're my little sister, and I love you. I love you more than I thought was possible. I've had a lot of time to think. I don't want you to hate me. We're going to be brother and sister for a long time, and I want to spend a lot of that time with you. I don't like that you've been unhappy, and I especially don't like that it's been my fault.
"Lana, I can't apologize to you enough. I've been completely unfair to you. I had no business ever spanking you. That's your parents' job, if they think you need it.
"What I'm most ashamed of, though, is that I managed to chase you both out of the house. Melanie, this is your home, and you shouldn't ever be afraid to be here. And Lana, if Melanie wants you to spend time with her here, that's good enough for me. Most of all, I've really, really, missed not having you -- both of you -- around for the past two weeks. That's two weeks of our lives gone that we'll never get back. I was afraid I'd never get to see you again.
"So, I'm very sorry that I ever spanked you in the first place, and I'm very, very sorry that I let things reach the stage they have. If you still hate me, I understand, and if you want me to go away and leave you alone, I will. But you've got no reason to be afraid of me from now on, because I'll never, ever, spank either of you again."
Sam looked down at the carpet, not daring to meet the girls' eyes. Lana's mind was awash with conflicting emotions. For two weeks, the girls had been racking their brains to "get even" with Sam when, by avoiding him, they'd been taking their revenge all along. She saw, now, that while it was wrong for Sam to have spanked the girls, it was equally wrong for them to have sought revenge by hurting him. She wondered how Melanie felt.
Silence hung over the room for a few moments; then, Melanie spoke in a such a soft voice that Lana could barely hear her.
"Sam ... you will spank me tonight, though, won't you?"
Amazed, Lana looked at her friend. Tears were streaming down Melanie's cheeks as she stared at her brother with impassioned eyes.
Sam was amazed too. "What?"
"I want you to spank me, Sam. Please."
"But ... but why?"
Her voice growing more confident by the moment, Melanie explained. "Because I played a mean, rotten trick on you, and I hurt you."
"You mean this?" Sam replied, pointing to the gash on his head which, by now, had almost stopped bleeding. "This is nothing, Melanie. I get banged up more playing football every week."
"But you're bleeding!"
"A superficial head cut will bleed a lot, Melanie. Believe me, this looks worse than it is."
"But still ... you could have been badly hurt, or even killed!"
Sam considered this a moment. "True ... but I don't blame you. Remember, I drove you to it. And I forgive you."
"Please, Sam, I need to be punished. I deserve a spanking tonight." Sam started to brush her off, but she interrupted, desperately. "PLEASE! I won't be able to forgive myself until I've been punished. Not just for tonight, but for the other tricks I tried to play on you."
Lana, wrestling with her emotions through the whole scene, finally found her tongue. "Please, Sam, spank me, too!"
Sam's mouth dropped open, again. "You, too? I don't believe this."
Lana could hardly believe it either. Deep down inside her, though, she knew it was what she needed. "Yes, Sam. It's just as much my fault as it is hers. I helped her. I need to be punished, too."
Sam thought silently for a few moments, then slowly nodded his head. He knew what they felt; he'd been feeling it himself for the past two weeks. Sometimes, all the forgiveness in the world means nothing without punishment. Sam had been mentally spanking himself every day for two weeks over his misdeeds. He wasn't about to put the girls through any more misery.
"All right, if that's really what you want. Let me do something about my head first, though. And then we better clean up that mess by the front door." He rose to his feet, heading slowly for the bathroom.
Melanie piped up again. "We can help you, Sam!"
Sam looked back at his sister. "You can?"
"Yes!" she replied. "We just had a first aid class in Girl Scouts. Got our merit badges and everything. Please, let us help you!" Lana nodded enthusiastically.
Sam shrugged his shoulders and beckoned the girls along. In the bathroom, he sat on the edge of the tub, leaning forward as the girls gently bathed and bandaged his head. As he'd thought, the wound turned out to be very small. Afterwards, they went to the entranceway. Sam surveyed the way the girls had rigged up the bucket, then turned to Melanie. "You thought this up yourself?" he asked her. "It's very good. I'm very impressed." Melanie allowed herself a small smile. Fortunately, very little of Sam's blood had gotten on the carpet, so the cleanup mainly consisted of mopping up the spilled water from the bucket.
The entranceway straightened up, the trio reconvened in the living room. Sam sat on the sofa as the two girls stood before him. He placed one hand on each of their shoulders, looking them straight in the eyes. "Now. Are you really sure you want me to spank you?" he asked. "Yes," answered Melanie, and Lana nodded her agreement.
"You're positive? You understand you don't have to do this?"
"Yes!" both girls cried, almost in unison.
"I have to make sure this is really what you want --"
"Sam, PLEASE! We want you to spank us," Melanie said. "Yeah, Sam, please spank us," Lana added.
Sam muttered something Lana didn't quite understand (something about feeling like he was in the "Castle Anthrax", whatever that was), then said, "All right, let's do it." In just a few moments, the girls once again found themselves side by side, face down across Sam's lap; only this time they went willingly, without a struggle. Sam carefully, almost gently, pulled up first Melanie's skirt, then Lana's, then slowly raised his hand, ready to begin.
"Pull my panties down, too, Sam!" Melanie implored.
Sam's hand dropped. He couldn't believe what he just heard. "You want me to pull your panties down?" he asked, incredulously.
"You spanked my bare bottom last time. This time was a lot worse. I deserve a bare bottom spanking. Please, Sam, pull down my panties!"
Lana surprised herself for the second time that night. "I deserve a bare bottom spanking, too, Sam. Pull my panties down too, please!" she requested, astonished at herself for making the request, but knowing it was what she deserved.
Sam thought for a few moments, then gave in. "All right," he sighed, and gently tucked his left arm under Melanie's waist, lifting her slightly as he tugged her panties down to her knees. Then he did the same to Lana. The girls joined hands and braced themselves. Sam surveyed the four pale bottom cheeks before him, then raised his hand again. His heart wasn't in the spanking, though, and the first two swats were no more than light love-pats.
"Harder, Sam! We need to get a real spanking. You have to spank us hard, or it doesn't count!" Melanie demanded.
"All right," Sam said, just a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I'll spank you hard. Can I use my hand, or should I get a whip?"
This broke the tension, somewhat; the girls giggled slightly and even managed to relax a bit. Then, for the third time, Sam raised his hand, and started in on the longest, hardest spanking he'd given the girls yet.
Lana gasped as the first few spanks struck home. This was the first time she'd been spanked without even the meager protection of her panties, and the pain was much more intense. Despite her determination to take the spanking as best she could, she let out a shrill yelp with her fourth spank.
Sam immediately stopped. "Are you all right? Was that too hard?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
"No, Sam. I'm all right. Please, keep going," Lana managed to choke out. She gripped Melanie's hand tighter and redoubled her resolve, encouraged by Melanie's return squeeze.
After a slight pause, Sam resumed the spanking. Now both girls were able to take their punishment with only an involuntary grunt and slight bucking after each swat. They drew strength from their contact with each other, and their knowledge that this spanking was not delivered from anger, or mischievousness. Instead, this was a well-deserved punishment spanking from someone who cared enough about them to discipline them.
Sam spanked and spanked and spanked, until all the remaining frustrations and hard feelings between them had been completely spanked out. The spanking served as a catharsis, ridding all participants of any lingering ill will, allowing them to begin their relationship again with a clean slate -- and yet, with a renewed sense of respect for one another. Sam never took the girls too lightly again.
Finally, the girls' bottoms glowed bright red, and both spanker and spankees felt physically and mentally drained. Sam stopped the spanking (for good this time) and helped the girls to their feet, carefully averting his eyes as they rearranged their clothing. (He'd seen everything when he was spanking, but knew the girls would be more embarrassed if they saw him looking.) Then he gently gathered the two into his arms and back onto his lap (sitting upright, this time), holding them tight and whispering tender reassurances until their tears and sobbing subsided. They hugged him back, telling him they forgave him, too.
When Melanie and Lana regained control over their emotions, Sam gently told them, "Get cleaned up and put on your pajamas. I'll order us a pizza. What would you like on it?" The girls placed their orders, and Sam again lifted them to their feet, giving each a tender kiss on the forehead. He headed for the phone as they repaired to the bathroom, where they gave their faces a good scrubbing, then to Melanie's bedroom. Nightgowns and robes donned, they headed again for the living room, where Sam, pizza, and videotape awaited.
Sam fired up the VCR, inserted the tape, and sat back on the couch. Melanie snuggled up against his left side, Lana against his right, the girls laying sideways, mindful of their still-tender bottoms. As the New Kids twirled and gyrated on the screen, Lana felt her old crush for Sam come flooding back. He wasn't perfect, she knew that now, but he wasn't a monster, either; just a regular guy who'd made some mistakes -- as they all had. Lana knew they'd all learned an important lesson that night: there were much worse things in life than getting a spanking.
A few months had passed since Melanie and Lana ended their feud with Sam, Melanie's big brother, by each getting a bare bottom spanking. Always a man of his word, Sam hadn't spanked the girls since then. He'd threatened to, a few times, but always in a playful manner. The girls knew he wasn't serious, but also knew better than to press their luck.
The final spanking served to bring Sam and Melanie (and, by proximity, Lana) closer together than ever. In the past, it seemed Sam only paid attention to Melanie when he was spanking her; now, he went out of his way to spend some time every day with the girls. He talked with them (not like they were children, but as equals), played games with them, watched their favorite TV shows with them, even took them to movies and, on one memorable occasion, an Ice Capades show. In short, he'd turned into the big brother Melanie always wished she had. Lana, an indirect beneficiary of Sam's largess, started thinking of him as her big brother, too.
A related bit of fallout was the demise of "Peanut", Sam's derogatory nickname for Melanie. Neither Melanie nor Lana mourned its passing.
The oncoming of winter meant the start of the high school basketball season. Although basketball wasn't Sam's primary sport, most high school teams could find space for someone who was six feet, six inches tall and took up a lot of room under the basket. Sam's school was no exception, and he claimed his usual spot on the roster.
Shortly before the season began, Sam had a real surprise for the girls: he'd talked Mrs. Chamberlain, the faculty cheerleader advisor, into letting Melanie and Lana serve as mascots for the team! Both girls were thrilled; they'd dreamed of being cheerleaders when they got older, and often practiced their routines in Melanie's living room. Now they got to cheer for Sam and the rest of the high school team!
Lana's mother made the girls uniforms that were exact replicas of the outfits the regular cheerleaders wore. Sam picked the girls up after school and took them to the high school, where they practiced with the rest of the squad. Melanie and Lana didn't know all the cheers, but they knew enough to root their team on. The other cheerleaders accepted them eagerly, as did the team and fans.
There's always a fly in the ointment, though, and in this case the fly's name was Amy McIlvanie, one of the regular cheerleaders. She seemed to take Melanie and Lana's presence as a personal affront to her. The girls couldn't understand why; they'd never done anything to her. She always treated them shabbily, referring to them as "the squirts" or "the runts" on the rare occasions she found it necessary to recognize them at all. Mostly, she ignored them. This suited Melanie and Lana just fine; the other cheerleaders more than made up for her, and she was the snooty, stuck-up type anyway.
Such was the situation a few days before the big game against crosstown rival Winston Churchill High School, when, after practice, Amy took the girls aside, claiming she needed to talk to them. Melanie and Lana were confused; Amy never talked to them unless she absolutely had to.
"Now, listen, you two," Amy said, when she had the girls alone. "You haven't been through your initiation yet."
The girls' confusion deepened. "Initiation? What initiation?" Lana asked.
"That's what I'm going to tell you about, if you'd quit interrupting," Amy answered, brusquely. Her manner hadn't softened any. Amy went on to explain the initiation process. A prominent feature on the Churchill High campus was a large boulder, usually painted green and white, the school colors. Every year, Amy explained, the newest members of the cheerleader squad had to paint that boulder red and blue, their school colors. This year, it was Melanie's and Lana's turn.
"You want us to paint the Churchill boulder?" asked Lana, incredulous.
"That's right," Amy answered, smugly.
"What if we don't do it?" demanded Melanie.
"Then you're off the cheerleading squad. You have to go through the initiation, and you can't tell anyone else about it, or you can't be a cheerleader any more."
This cowed the girls. "When ... when do we have to do it?" asked Melanie, weakly.
"Tonight. I'll be waiting outside your house at 11:00."
"But that's past our bedtime!" Melanie protested.
"You can sneak out, can't you?" Amy snapped, exasperated. "I guess so," Melanie answered, and Lana slowly nodded. "Good. Then it's settled. Eleven o'clock tonight. Wear your uniforms. I'll have the paint and brushes. Remember, not_a _word about this to anyone else." Amy turned and walked away, leaving the girls with their thoughts and emotions.
"What are we going to do?" Lana asked.
"I guess we're going to paint the rock," Melanie answered.
"But ... but why didn't the other girls say anything about it?"
"I don't know. Maybe Amy's in charge of the initiation. We can't ask them about it, anyway. Amy said not to tell anyone else."
The rest of the day dragged slowly by, as the girls contemplated their night's adventure. Lana arranged for a sleepover at Melanie's. The girls picked at their dinners and retired to Melanie's room early. A few minutes before eleven, they changed into their cheerleader outfits and crept quietly downstairs, leaving the house through the utility room door.
They spotted Amy sitting in a car parked at the curb. "Hurry up and get in, you two," she hissed. "We don't have all night."
Amy drove silently through the town's darkened streets until they reached the Churchill High campus. She parked, then opened the trunk and took out two small cans of paint and two brushes. Handing one of each to the girls, Amy led them through the grounds until they reached the boulder. "There it is," she pointed out. "I'll wait over here," indicating some nearby bushes. "Paint the whole thing, or you're off the squad."
The girls slowly approached the boulder and set their paint cans on the ground. The can's lids had been loosened, so it was a simple matter to pry them open. Melanie and Lana dunked their brushes and started to work.
After only three strokes, Lana felt rough hands grabbing her from behind. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a voice boomed out.
Lana could see Melanie struggling in the grasp of a boy wearing a Churchill High letterman's jacket. Turning her head, she saw her captor was similarly attired. She bucked and wriggled, but couldn't break his hold. "Looks like a couple of hooligans come to do a little vandalism, Frank," he said to his partner.
Melanie screamed, "Put me down! Let me go!" "I don't think so, little girl," Frank told her, tightening his grip. "What should we do with them, Dave?"
"I know!" Dave answered. "Let's turn their bottoms the same color as their underwear!" Lana groaned. Of all the times to be wearing red panties!
The boys carried their captives to a nearby bench and sat down. In seconds, the girls were upended over Frank's and Dave's knees, arms pinned and skirts inverted. Both girls screamed for help. "Yell all you want, nobody's going to hear you," Dave informed Lana. Amy can hear me, Lana thought, as she felt her panties tugged down to her knees. But Amy apparently wasn't in any hurry to come to their rescue.
Lana felt gooseflesh rising on her bare rump from the cold night air. The sensation proved temporary, though, as Frank and Dave set about warming the girls' bottoms. Lana yelped loudly as the first swats hit home. As a spanker, Dave was no Sam, but his spanks sure packed a wallop!
The sounds of spanks and cries echoed through the deserted area as Melanie and Lana struggled with their pain, helplessness, and embarrassment. After a dozen swats, Lana felt a steady sting rising in her backside, and Dave showed no sign of slowing his pace. Then a familiar voice sounded: "All right, you two, knock it off!"
"This is none of your business, man!" Dave snapped, continuing to spank Lana. "Yeah, butt out!" added Frank, keeping up his assault on Melanie's posterior.
Like Godzilla rising from Tokyo Bay, Sam's immense form emerged out of the darkness. "It is my business. That's my little sister there, and nobody spanks her except me. Now, KNOCK IT OFF!"
Confronted by Sam looming over them, the boys scrambled to their feet, unceremoniously dumping Melanie and Lana to the ground. The girls scurried behind Sam, hurriedly rearranging skirts and panties. "I'm sorry -- we didn't know -- we were just --" started Dave and Frank.
Sam silenced them with a wave of his hand. He looked down at Melanie and Lana. "Girls, stay here for a moment," he instructed. "I need to talk to these two."
The girls remained rooted, rubbing eyes and bottoms as Sam, Dave, and Frank walked to the other side of the boulder. They watched as the Churchill boys made their explanations to Sam. He asked a few questions, then evidently laid down the law to both of them, making some sharp statements and poking both boys in the chest several times. The riot act read, Dave and Frank headed off for important business elsewhere while Sam walked back to the girls.
Seating himself on the bench, he gathered the two in front of him. "All right, girls, I've heard their side of it. Now I'd like to hear yours." Melanie and Lana quickly explained about Amy McIlvanie and their "initiation." Sam listened silently, shaking his head in amazement when the girls finished. "Why didn't you come to me about this?" he asked, incredulously. "We couldn't. Amy told us not to, or we'd lose our places on the squad," Melanie answered.
Sam scowled. "I ought to turn you both over my knee again right now, for being so gullible," he said. Lana and Melanie both cringed. Sam softened his tone. "But I suppose you've had enough of that for one night," he added, reaching behind the girls to give each a playful pat on the rump (and watching with some amusement as they winced from the contact).
Suddenly, Melanie's tears started anew, and she collapsed into Sam's arms. "What's the matter, Melanie?" he asked as he hugged his sister and gently stroked her hair. "Oh, Sam," she wailed, "everyone's going to know we got our bare bottoms spanked tonight."
"Shh, shh. No one's going to find out. I told those two that if I ever heard anyone talking about what happened tonight, I'd look them up and take out their gall bladders. Without anesthetics or a scalpel. The only other person who knows is me, and I'll never tell," he said, kissing Melanie's forehead tenderly. Lana looked away, somewhat uncomfortable at witnessing this intimate moment between brother and sister.
"Amy knows," Melanie replied, still distraught. Sam frowned. "Ah, yes, Amy. Well, it's too late to do anything about that tonight. Come on, let's go home." Still holding his sister, Sam stood up, then scooped up Lana in his other arm. Cradling one girl in each arm, as if they were infants, he walked swiftly away from the scene of the crime.
Melanie buried her head against Sam's shoulder, still sobbing loudly. Lana did the same, drawing reassurance from the warmth and strength she felt. A thought occurred. "Sam," she inquired, looking up at him, "how did you know where to find us?"
"It wasn't hard to see something was bothering you," Sam replied, shifting her into a slightly more comfortable position. "You hardly touched your dinners, and you never go to bed that early. Then, when I went to bed, I couldn't hear anything coming from your room. Usually, I hear you talking and giggling in there half the night." Lana and Melanie exchanged embarrassed glances. They hadn't realized Sam could overhear their girltalk.
"Anyway, I went to your room to see what was wrong. When I found you weren't there, I looked out the window just in time to see you getting into Amy's car. Then I remembered hearing her say something today about a prank and the Churchill boulder. I got down here as soon as I could. I just wish I'd been a little faster," he finished, ruefully. Lana knew how he felt, but she was grateful to be rescued at all.
They soon reached Sam's car. He'd parked right behind Amy, but she and her car were nowhere to be seen. Sam swiftly drove home, the girls sitting gingerly on sore bottoms. They silently crept back upstairs to their rooms. Just before Lana stepped into Melanie's room, Sam put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her dead. "Lana ... you are coming over tomorrow, aren't you?" he asked.
Confused, Lana nodded. It was a rare day she _didn't_ go to Melanie's.
"Good," Sam continued. "I think you should, especially tomorrow. I think you'll find it a very enlightening experience."
Between her stinging backside and Sam's cryptic remark, Lana didn't get much sleep that night. There was no cheerleading practice the next day, and the girls hurried to Melanie's right after school, relieved at not having to face Amy so soon after their spanking.
Sam, as usual, was seated on the living room sofa, watching television, as Melanie and Lana entered the house. "Good, you're home," he said, clicking off the TV and getting up. "Please, have a seat. I'll be right back." He headed for the kitchen. The girls, their confusion deepening, sat down on the couch.
In only a few seconds, Sam re-entered the living room. The girls gasped as they saw Amy McIlvanie, dressed in her cheerleader outfit, cradled in his arms. A piece of athletic tape covered her mouth, and her hands were restrained behind her back by a set of Melanie's Chinese handcuffs. Sam turned an easy chair around so it faced the sofa, then sat down, setting his captive on his knee like a ventriloquist's dummy.
"Amy," Sam said, "I believe you know Melanie and Lana," indicating the girls, "and I believe you have something to say to them." Amy squawked something through the tape. "Oh, I'm sorry! Let me help you with that!" Sam said, and none-too-gently pulled the tape off Amy's mouth, leaving one end still attached to her cheek.
Amy's first words were directed not at Melanie and Lana, but at Sam. "You bastard!" she shrieked. "You let me go, right now! I'm going to call the police and have you arrested!"
"You'll do nothing of the sort," Sam informed her. "You're going to sit quietly while we talk about last night, then we'll decide what to do with you." Amy started protesting again, but Sam cut her off. "QUIET, or I'll put the tape back on." Reluctantly, Amy quieted down.
"I think we all know what happened last night," Sam continued. Lana's hands involuntarily shot to her bottom at the memory. "When I talked to the Churchill boys, they told me a very interesting story. About an anonymous phone call they got, warning them our mascots would be painting their boulder. From someone with a female voice."
Melanie and Lana looked at each other, horrified. But Sam wasn't through yet. "This caller, whoever she was, knew exactly when the prank would take place. She even suggested bare bottom spanking as appropriate punishment."
By now, the girls were completely appalled. Amy had set them up! Sam decided Amy's coffin needed one more nail. "Amy," he asked, "do you have any idea who that anonymous caller might be?"
Amy sat silently for a long time, her face turning redder than her sweater. Then she spoke, in a voice too soft for the girls to understand. "It was me."
"What?" Sam asked, smiling. "Speak up. I don't think they heard you."
"It was me, okay?" Amy snarled. "I set the whole thing up. Now will you let me go?"
"Not quite yet," Sam responded. "Because of you, these two got their bottoms turned the same color as their underwear last night. I think it'd only be fair if they watched the same thing happen to you."
Understanding slowly dawned in Amy's eyes. "What? No! You can't spank me! No! Let me go!" she sputtered, writhing in Sam's grasp.
Easily restraining the struggling girl, Sam said sternly, "Either I spank you right now, or we all go tell Mrs. Chamberlain what you did. The least she'll do is boot your butt off the cheerleading squad. Then you won't be a cheerleader any more, just another face at school. You want to go that route?"
With that, all the fight went out of Amy. She meekly submitted as Sam turned her over his knee. He raised her short skirt, then hooked his fingers under the waistband of her red cheerleader panties.
At Sam's touch, Amy discovered she still had some fight left in her, after all. "What are you doing? No! Don't pull down my panties! Stop it!" she squealed, kicking and wriggling vigorously.
"Now, now, Amy," Sam chided. "If I can't see your bottom, I won't know when it's red enough to stop spanking, will I?" Despite the teen's struggles, he soon had her panties down around her knees.
Lana felt amazed at the ample expanses of pale white flesh exposed when Amy's panties were lowered. Amy's bottom was much rounder, fuller, and more developed than hers or Melanie's. Lana wondered if her bottom would look like that when she was Amy's age. She hoped so -- while, at the same time, hoping she'd never have to display it like Amy was.
Sam paused for a moment, evidently admiring Amy's naked rump, then got busy. The first swat elicited a loud exclamation. "OW! Shit! Not so hard!" The girls exchanged knowing looks. Sam was just warming up. If Amy thought her first spank was hard, she was in for a long afternoon.
"Why, Amy, I'm surprised at you!" Sam said in mock consternation. "That's hardly the proper language to be using before these impressionable young ladies." He winked at Melanie and Lana, and they grinned back; they'd heard far worse, usually from Sam himself. "If you don't mind your tongue, I'll have to put the tape back over your mouth."
The next swat proved that either Amy hadn't been paying attention, or she was a slow learner. "FUCK! Stop it!" "I warned you," Sam sighed heavily, and securely fastened the tape back over Amy's mouth, effectively muffling her further squeals and protestations.
With Amy stifled, Sam resumed spanking with vigor, repeatedly covering the girl's backside with hard smacks. Amy didn't take the punishment well at all; she kicked, squirmed, and squealed as best she could through her gag, tears streaming from her eyes. She more closely resembled a pre-schooler than the high school junior she was. Lana was a bit disgusted by Amy's performance. At least, she thought, she took her last spanking from Sam with some dignity.
Periodically, Sam would stop spanking, grab a handful of Amy's panties, and hold them up against her bottom, comparing the color. "No, not red enough yet," he'd announce, pull the panties back down, and take up where he'd left off. After another dozen or so swats, he'd perform another comparison, never quite satisfied with the coloration. These brief pauses only reinforced Amy's distress when the spanks began landing again.
Finally, Sam stopped, resting his hand on Amy's bare thigh. "I think you're almost there," he told her. "I think twenty more good spanks ought to finish the job. And," he added, looking at Melanie and Lana, "I think these two ought to give them to you. Do you agree, girls?"
They didn't have to be asked twice. Leaping to their feet, the girls raced over to the chair. "Ten each, girls. Make 'em good and hard," Sam instructed. By unspoken agreement, Melanie took the right buttock, Lana the left. They each administered ten more stinging swats to the hot, scarlet flesh below them. The additional sting on her already-tenderized rump, plus the knowledge that she was getting spanked by the "runts" she'd conspired against, completed Amy's humiliation.
The spanking finally concluded, the girls stepped back as Sam released Amy from the Chinese handcuffs. She climbed slowly to her feet and carefully removed the tape from her mouth, then stood uncertainly, panties still down, rubbing her bottom and looking at Sam, not sure what to do next.
Sam noticed her confusion. "You still need to apologize," he reminded her.
Amy slowly turned to Melanie and Lana. "I'm sorry," she said sullenly, then yelped again as Sam smacked her rump one last time. "That didn't sound too contrite," he told her. "Try again, and make it a real apology this time."
Wiping fresh tears from her eyes, Amy again faced the girls. "I'm sorry. It was wrong for me to get you spanked last night. I'll never do anything like that again." At least she sounded sincere this time.
"That's better. You can leave now," Sam said. Amy hastily pulled up her panties and headed for the door. Sam stopped her on the threshold with one final promise. "Just remember, if you ever do anything mean to Melanie or Lana again, first I'll spank you, then they will spank you, and then we'll go to Mrs. Chamberlain." Amy scurried out the door, slamming it behind her.
Sam leaned back in his chair as the grateful girls climbed up onto his lap. Lana was still a bit curious, though. "Sam ... why does Amy hate us?" she asked.
"She doesn't hate you," Sam explained. "She hates that people were watching you instead of her. Amy is one of those people who has to be the center of attention all the time. I don't know if it's because she doesn't get enough attention at home, or what." He smiled down at the girls. "We sure gave her some attention today though, didn't we?" he finished, hugging them tight.
Simultaneously, Melanie and Lana threw their arms around Sam's neck, hugging him back, secure in the knowledge that they had a "big brother" who paid attention -- the right kind of attention -- to them.
Spring's arrival meant the end of high school basketball, and the end of Melanie and Lana's forced association with Amy McIlvanie. After Sam spanked Amy's bare bottom, she'd reverted to ignoring the girls whenever possible. She didn't try any more mean tricks, though. Lana was a bit disappointed; she wouldn't have minded seeing stuck-up Amy get another panties-down session over Sam's knee.
This morning, though, Amy McIlvanie was the furthest thing from Lana's mind. She'd been surprised to hear on television last night that Marky Mark, her absolute favorite singer in the whole world, would be signing autographs at the music store that day! Unfortunately, the hours of his appearance coincided with her school hours. Still, Lana was certain she'd be able to persuade her parents to let her out of school for just this one day.
At the breakfast table, though, all her arguments, protestations, and tears proved in vain. Her parents held firm: she could not miss school for any reason, least of all this. Lana's mother tried to assuage her feelings with some inane story from her own childhood, but it didn't make her daughter feel any better (Lana didn't even know who Donny Osmond was, nor did she care).
Lana pouted all the way to school. It was so unfair! Her parents didn't understand! She felt somewhat reassured, however, that maybe, just maybe, Melanie's parents would be "cooler" and let Melanie go. Maybe she could get an autograph for Lana, too.
One look at her friend's expression, though, and all her hopes were dashed. Without even being asked, Melanie shook her head glumly. The two took a seat in their usual corner of the schoolyard, to commiserate before the morning bell rang.
"Melanie, what are we going to do?" Lana wailed. "I'll die if I don't get an autograph!"
Always the schemer, Melanie soon had that mischievous gleam in her eye that meant she'd contrived a plan. "I think I've got it," she said slowly. "Just before lunch, we can ask to go to the bathroom. Then we can sneak out of school and down to the music store. We'll get back right after lunch, and we won't be missed!"
"Melanie, I don't know," said Lana. Skipping school was something she'd never attempted before, something she wouldn't do lightly. "Are you sure it'll work? What if we get caught?"
"No one's going to catch us!" Melanie declared. "Besides, do you want an autograph or don't you?"
That clinched the deal. About half an hour before the girls' lunchtime, Melanie raised her hand and asked to be excused to the restroom. A few minutes later, Lana made the same request. Meeting in the bathroom, they crept silently through the school halls and out one of the lesser-used doors.
The music store was crowded with girls whose parents were evidently "cooler" than Melanie's and Lana's. They could just barely make out their idol, Marky Mark, inside the store. The girls took their places in line, settling in for a long wait, when they felt large, familiar hands on their shoulders.
Even before they looked, Melanie and Lana knew who it was. Sam loomed over them, an intense scowl across his face. He pointed to the parking lot and snapped out two words: "Car. Now."
Meekly, the pair followed Sam to his car. They climbed in, Lana getting in the back seat. Sam pointed the vehicle in the direction of the girl's school.
After a few minutes' silence, Melanie ventured a question. "Sam ... what were you doing in the music store?"
Sam unclenched his jaw long enough to smile down at his sister. "You were pretty bummed out this morning when Mom wouldn't let you skip school to get an autograph. I decided I'd use my free period to get you each one."
Lana's insides lurched. "Why didn't you tell me?" Melanie demanded, echoing Lana's feelings.
"I wanted to surprise you."
The girls sat in miserable silence for the remaining trip. If only they'd known, they never would have cut school! Now, it seemed, not only would they not get the autographs, but they'd get punished, as well.
As Sam pulled into the grade school parking lot, Melanie tried another gambit. "Sam ... it's still our lunch time. Do you have to tell Mr. Pemberton" (the grade school principal) "what we did? We could get our lunches and act like nothing happened, and nobody'd ever know. Please?"
Resisting the "Bambi eyes" both girls were using on him, Sam replied, "Oh, I'm not going to tell Mr. Pemberton anything."
"You aren't?" The girls' hopes soared.
"No. You are."
Sam led the protesting, pleading pair into the school office, where they were soon ushered into Mr. Pemberton's presence. The principal listened in silence as Melanie and Lana confessed their transgression in halting, little-girl voices, Sam's hands firmly, yet reassuringly, on their shoulders.
When the girls finished their recitation, Mr. Pemberton leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. "Girls, leaving school grounds without permission is a very serious offense. You could be suspended or even expelled for such behavior." He leaned back in his chair as the girls cringed. "However, since this is your first such offense, and you've both been excellent students in the past, I'll be lenient." He paused. "You'll both receive extra homework for the next month. And I'll have to notify your parents."
"No!" Melanie burst out. "Please, don't call my mother! She'll spank me! Please, don't!"
Mr. Pemberton frowned. "A few years ago, young lady, you'd be over my knee right now, getting a paddle applied to your bare behind. Consider yourself fortunate that you're not." Melanie stopped her whining. "All right, you're dismissed. You may finish what's left of your lunchtime." He picked up the phone as Sam escorted the unhappy pair out of the office.
In the hallway, Melanie rounded on her brother, eyes blazing. "I hope you're happy. I'm going to get spanked tonight, thanks to you."
"This isn't my fault, Melanie," Sam tried to explain, but she turned her back on him. "Fine. See you at home tonight," he sighed, heading back towards the parking lot.
Melanie sulked the whole afternoon. Lana wondered what she was so upset about. Sure, she was going to get spanked, but at least she knew what her punishment would be. Lana wondered which option her parents would choose. Grounding? No TV? Take away her allowance? All were punishments she'd experienced in the past. Which route would her parents take?
Not only that, reflected Lana, but after her bottom healed, Melanie's punishment would be over. Hers could stretch on for two weeks, or even longer. It was all so unfair -- especially since it was Melanie's idea to begin with.
Slowly, the school day ground to a finish. Shortly before the final bell, Lana received a message from her mother, instructing her to go to Melanie's right after school. Lana, puzzled, had planned on going straight home to face the music. What would happen at Melanie's?
After the short trip, the girls found an unfamiliar scene in Melanie's living room. Sam was there, as usual, but sitting in an easy chair (the same chair he'd spanked Amy McIlvanie in, Lana noted) instead of on the sofa. And, for once, the television set was off. The couch was occupied by Melanie's and Lana's mothers, arms firmly crossed, faces dour. Melanie ignored her brother's half-hearted smile. She knew from experience that the cruelest thing she could do to Sam was ignore him -- and she intended to do just that, for a long, long time.
Melanie's mother fired the opening salvo. "Girls, what you did today showed very, very poor judgement. We specifically told you not to go to the music store today. You disobeyed our orders and you disobeyed school regulations. You both deserve very severe punishment for that."
"We know, Mom, and we're sorry," Melanie answered. Lana's mother took up the lecture. "Mrs. Harrison and I had a long conversation about you two today. We agreed that since you committed the same offenses, you should get the same punishment. Do you agree?"
The girls exchanged glances. Both knew that Lana's parents didn't usually spank (her recent trip over her father's knee after the broomstick incident nonwithstanding). Perhaps Melanie could avoid a sore bottom too?
"We agree, Mom," Lana replied, and Melanie nodded. "Good," responded the woman, opening her handbag and removing a large wooden hairbrush. Simultaneously, Melanie's mother produced a similar implement she'd been hiding beside her.
Lana's insides took another lurch. Her mom had tricked her into agreeing to a spanking! "No, Mom, no, please don't spank me," she pleaded.
"Now, now, Lana," her mother chided, "Mrs. Harrison and I agree this is the appropriate punishment. She feels Melanie should be spanked for what she did today. Since you did the same thing, you should be spanked, too. It's only fair." She smiled sweetly at her chagrined daughter.
For the first time, Sam spoke. "Then you'd better spank me, too."
The silence in the room was deafening, as four pairs of eyes stared at Sam, who sat impassively. Finally, Mrs. Harrison asked, "What did you say?"
"I cut geometry class today. They skipped out of school, and so did I. If they're going to get spanked, I should, too."
"You cut geometry class? Why?"
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Just didn't feel like going."
"Does the school know?"
"Yeah. I'm on two weeks' detention, starting tomorrow."
"Well," Mrs. Harrison said, "if the school is punishing you, then that's enough. There's no need for further punishment on our part --"
"They've got extra homework for a month, Mom, and you're still punishing them. I deserve the same punishment they get."
"The girls are being punished for disobeying us, not just for breaking school regulations. We told them not to go to the music store, and they did."
"And just when did you say it was okay for me to cut geometry class?"
Sam's mother sighed. "Sam, this is ridiculous. You're much too old to spank!"
"Age has nothing to do with it, Mom. Mrs. Watson said it herself: the girls did the same thing, so they deserve the same punishment. So do I. If I'm not going to get spanked, they shouldn't get spanked either. It's only fair," he finished, mimicking Lana's mother's sweet smile.
"Yeah, Mom, it's only fair," Melanie added. Mrs. Harrison shot her a look that clearly said, one more word out of you, and you're dead.
The girls stood in silence as the mothers wrestled with the situation. They'd already committed to spanking their daughters; backing down now, in the face of Sam's logic, would be a undercutting of parental authority that could have repercussions far beyond today. Finally, Mrs. Harrison, still not quite certain her son was completely serious, decided to see just how far he'd go. "Very well, Sam, if you think you should be spanked, then spanked you will be."
Sam immediately stood up and walked over to the couch. "You want me across your lap?" he asked, towering over his mother.
"Heavens, no!" He'd crush her! "Let's go into the dining room." Sam and Mrs. Harrison left the living room, followed closely by Mrs. Watson and the girls.
Mrs. Harrison decided the dining room table would hold Sam's considerable weight. "Sam, bend down over the table," she instructed. Sam nodded and started undoing his belt. "What are you doing now?" she cried.
"I'm taking down my pants."
"What in the world for?"
"You were going to pull up their skirts, weren't you?" he asked, indicating Melanie and Lana. "I guess so," Mrs. Harrison replied. "Well, if they get spanked on their underwear, then so should I. It's only fair," he answered, continuing to work on his belt.
Lana watched, amazed, as Sam undid his jeans and pulled them down to just above his knees. Underneath, he had on a pair of blue-and-white pinstriped boxer shorts. Lana gasped at the enormous size of Sam's underwear. I could make a blouse out of those, she thought. The next instant, the thought of wearing Sam's old underwear both amused and gagged her, and she stifled a giggle.
Sam hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts. "You want these down, too?" he asked.
"NO!" both mothers cried simultaneously.
"Okay, then. They don't get their bottoms bared either." That was unnecessary, Lana thought. Sam was the only one who'd spanked the girls' bare bottoms (other than Dave and Frank, the Churchill boys, she recalled belatedly).
The ground rules set, Sam laid down across the table. He stretched his legs out and braced his toes against the floor, gripping the table sides to support himself. Looking over his shoulder, he grinned and winked at the girls. Mrs. Harrison moved behind him, then raised her hairbrush and brought it down across his backside.
"Oooo, ow, it hurts, it hurts," Sam cried, but from his tone, Lana could tell he wasn't feeling any pain. His mother administered another swat. "Ow, Mommy, please, no more, it hurts too much," he squealed, grinning and winking again. Neither girl could stifle her giggles this time.
Mrs. Harrison was furious. Sam was making a mockery of the whole procedure! Putting all her weight behind it, she swung the hairbrush again, connecting with the intersection between Sam's rump and his upper thighs.
This time, Sam's exclamation was genuine. "Yeouch!" Quickly, Mrs. Harrison delivered another blow to the same spot. "OWWWW!" Confident that she'd found the range, she continued to rain blows down on Sam's upturned backside, concentrating on one small area. Sam managed to stifle any further outcries, but his grin turned to a grimace.
Mrs. Harrison kept up the pace for two dozen swats, then lowered her arm. "All right, Sam, you can get up now," she informed her son. Sam laid still for a few seconds, breathing heavily, face flushed. In a somewhat-strained voice, he said, "Okay, Mrs. Watson, your turn."
Lana's mother, on the verge of escorting Lana back into the living room, turned and stared at Sam. "What?"
"Your turn to spank me," Sam replied, not moving. "If both of you are going to punish the girls, then both of you should spank me. It's only fair."
"Sam, you're not making sense --" Mrs. Watson started, but Sam's mother cut her off. "No, Beverly, Sam is completely right. You should spank him. Be my guest." Neither Sam, from his bent-over position, nor Melanie or Lana could see the wink Mrs. Harrison gave Mrs. Watson.
Lana's mother took up her position behind Sam. She'd paid attention to his first spanking and attacked the same few square inches of his bottom. Sam tried his best to be brave, but obviously he was feeling the swats; he gave out a low grunt after each spank, and Lana noticed he gripped the table so hard, his knuckles turned white.
After Mrs. Watson administered her two dozen swats, Sam laid still for a moment, then slowly pushed himself to his feet. His eyes were dry, and he managed a grin at the girls, but he winced as he gingerly rubbed his bottom, then slowly pulled his jeans back up.
Once Sam had re-dressed himself, the mothers led Melanie and Lana back into the living room. Sam stood in the doorway, not quite ready to sit yet. Seating themselves in their original positions on the sofa, each woman turned her daughter over her knee. Laying behind Melanie, Lana had an interesting view of her friend's rump as both skirts were whisked up. As the hairbrushes started landing, though, she found her attention diverted elsewhere.
Both girls resolved to follow Sam's example and take their spankings bravely. Their delicate bottoms were no match for the hard hairbrushes, however, and after a few swats, both girls were squirming and squealing from the impacts. Their mothers showed no mercy and delivered the same two dozen spanks they'd given Sam. After all, it was only fair.
The spankings concluded, each girl resumed her feet and stood before her mother, rubbing her sore backside and awaiting the usual post-punishment lecture. The women sat in silence for about half a minute, then Melanie's mother announced, "All right, girls, it's time for your second spanking."
Both girls, and Sam, were stunned. Melanie spoke for all. "Second spanking? What second spanking?"
"We agreed you all would get the same punishment. Sam got spanked twice, once by Mrs. Watson and once by me. You're going to get spanked by each of us, too."
The girls couldn't believe their ears. Sam thought quickly. "But I'm older than they are. I should know better. I deserve more punishment."
"Now, Sam," his mother replied, "we've been through this. You got spanked twice, so the girls will be spanked twice. It's only fair."
The triumphant look on the mothers' faces told the trio they'd been outwitted by adult logic again. Reluctantly, Melanie laid down across Mrs. Watson's lap, while Lana took a similar position with Mrs. Harrison.
This time, there was no pretense of bravery. Both girls kicked and squalled with the first contact of hairbrush against tender backside. In Lana's opinion, Melanie's mother spanked much harder than hers -- probably because Melanie still got spanked regularly, whereas Lana's mother hadn't spanked her for years. From the way Melanie was carrying on, though, she might have had a different opinion as to whose mother had the stronger arm.
After their second two dozen, the girls again got to their feet, hoping this time the spankings were truly over. Mrs. Harrison addressed her daughter. "Melanie, we need to talk to Sam in private. Please go to your room and stay there until dinnertime. I'll talk to you later tonight."
Lana eyed her mother, unsure what to do. "Lana, you may go with Melanie if you wish, but I'll expect you home for dinner at six o'clock sharp," Mrs. Watson instructed, waving her hairbrush for emphasis. Lana hoped this afternoon's experience wouldn't result in a revival of hairbrush discipline in her household.
Relieved that the physical part of their punishment was over, the girls turned and fled up the stairs.
A few minutes later found Melanie and Lana standing on a chair in front of Melanie's vanity, skirts up and panties lowered, comparing their bottoms in the mirror.
"Mine's redder," Melanie declared.
"No way! Mine is!" Lana answered.
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"Well ... my mom spanks harder!"
"She should, she's had more practice!"
"That's because you don't get spanked enough."
"No, it's because you're a bigger brat."
A knock on the door interrupted the girls' laughter. Before they could move, the door opened and Sam walked in, a Pee Chee folder in his hand. "Girls, I'm sorry about getting you spanked again -- what are you doing?" he asked, as they hurriedly dropped their skirts.
"Nothing," Melanie said quickly, climbing down from the chair, Lana close behind her.
Sam smiled. "You were comparing butts in the mirror, weren't you?"
"No, we weren't!" said Melanie, firmly, remembering she was mad at Sam.
"Oh, no? Then what's that?" inquired Sam, pointing at Melanie's panties, which stuck out from beneath her skirt.
Blushing furiously, Melanie bent over to pull up her panties. She glared at Sam, who took the hint and gallantly turned his back as the girls rearranged their underwear. When they were decent again, he said, "So, whose was redder?"
"Mine," both girls claimed simultaneously.
Sam got an evil look in his eyes. "Want to see mine?" he asked, his hands moving to his belt again.
"NO!" cried Melanie, a little too swiftly for Lana's taste. She wouldn't have minded a peek at Sam's bare bottom. He'd seen hers often enough.
"Anyway," Sam continued, "the real reason I came in here was to give you these," handing the folder to Melanie. She flipped it open, her eyes widening in surprise. Lana, peering over her shoulder, got the same look. Inside the folder were two 8" by 10" glossy photos of Marky Mark, one inscribed to each of the girls.
"But when -- how did you get these?" Melanie sputtered.
"I knew Mom would really let you have it for skipping school. Between that and the extra homework, I figured you'd been punished enough. So, after I left your school, I went back to the music store and got the autographs. That's why I missed geometry."
"Wow, neat," murmured Melanie, staring in rapture at her photo. Sam turned back to the door. "Well, you've got homework, so I'd better let you get to it. I'll see you tomorrow, Lana, a bit late, I guess. Detention, you know."
"Sam, wait." The girls looked from their photos up at Sam, who'd gotten himself punished to get them these treasures; who'd tried to talk their mothers out of spanking them; who'd accepted a spanking himself when he couldn't. Melanie felt the last of her anger towards him ebbing away as she considered this. "Would ... would you like to stay for a while?"
"Really?" Sam asked, taken aback. Despite their new, friendly relationship, he wasn't often invited into Melanie's private sanctuary. "You want me to stay?"
Melanie's emotions took control. Handing the folder to Lana, she rushed to Sam, hugging him tightly around the waist. "Oh, Sam," she cried, trying to hold her tears in, "I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry!"
"What for, Melanie?" he asked, scooping her up and returning her hug.
"Today at school, I blamed you because I got in trouble. I was mad at you all afternoon," she replied, burying her head against his shoulder. "I know, I know, and it's okay," he comforted, sitting on her bed and setting her on his knee. Lana, feeling left out, climbed up on the other knee. He smiled at her and put his arm around her, then turned back to his sister. "You were just frustrated, Melanie. I don't blame you."
"It wasn't your fault I got spanked, Sam."
"Well ... it was my fault you got spanked twice."
"Yes, but if we hadn't snuck out of school, nobody would have gotten spanked."
Sam didn't feel a response was necessary. In fact, he was quite pleased to see his sister take responsibility for her actions. Melanie continued her apology. "Anyway, I still feel really bad."
Sam's evil grin returned. "Well, I could always spank you again, if it would make you feel any better."
Melanie pondered this for a moment. "I don't feel that bad," she finally replied. Sam laughed and tousled her hair, and she grinned back.
The three sat in silence for a while, then a thought which had been bothering Lana resurfaced. "Sam," she asked tentatively, "was Mr. Pemberton the principal when you were in grade school?"
"Yes, he was," Sam answered.
"Did he spank kids while you were there?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did."
"Did he really use a paddle on their bare bottoms?"
"Ohhh, yes. He most certainly did."
Sam's tone made both girls look up, and his expression confirmed their thoughts. "You mean you -- ?" Melanie started.
"Yes," Sam cut her off. "I'll tell you about it -- some other time. I think we've all have enough of that particular subject for today," he finished, shifting a bit on the bed. The girls, reminded of their still-stinging rumps, agreed.
A few more moment's silence, then Sam asked, "What does this Marky Mark guy sound like, anyway?" They stared at him, amazed, not believing anyone could be unfamiliar with Marky Mark. "Would you like to hear one of his albums?" Melanie asked.
"Sure," Sam replied. She scooted off his lap and headed for her stereo. "Not too loud, now," he reminded her. She smiled back at him as she clicked on the stereo and inserted a CD.
As the music started, Melanie resumed her place on Sam's lap. The three sat together, listening and talking quietly, knowing they'd remember today -- both the pain and the pleasure -- for many years to come.
By early April, almost a month had passed since Melanie, Lana, and Sam had gotten spanked for the incident at the music store. Lana's nightmare -- that her parents would start spanking her again -- partially came true. They certainly threatened her with the hairbrush often enough, but (so far) hadn't followed through on their threats.
Since Lana spent so much time at Melanie's, though, her parents reasoned that Melanie's folks should be able to discipline her as they saw fit. Much to Lana's chagrin, this included spankings. More than once, Lana found herself upended over someone's knee, getting a taste of what she'd come to think of as Melanie's "special hairbrush."
Although Sam was usually home when these sessions were administered, he didn't participate in them. Nor did he ever try to intercede again. Sam usually absented himself whenever it became apparent the girls were going to "get it." Lana was just as glad; she didn't need an audience while getting her bottom spanked.
Afterwards, though, Sam made a point of seeking out the girls and trying to comfort them. He'd hold them on his lap, hugging them tight, trying to assuage their hurt feelings (both physical and psychological) while, at the same time, getting them to accept their punishment. These "cuddle sessions" left Lana feeling so good inside, they almost made the spankings seem worthwhile -- almost.
One evening, while the trio sat on Melanie's living room sofa, watching television together, Sam casually remarked, "Mrs. Chamberlain stopped me in the hall today. She asked if you'd be interested in being mascot cheerleaders for the baseball team. I said you might be. Are you?"
Were they? Were they! Their experience as mascots for the basketball team this past winter was the best they'd ever had -- with one notable exception, and even that turned out all right. Both girls spontaneously jumped up and hugged Sam, hard, around the neck. "I take it that's a yes?" he said teasingly as he gently pried them loose.
The next day, Sam took the girls to the high school, where they reunited with the rest of the squad. Most of the other cheerleaders greeted Melanie and Lana warmly. At the back of the group, though, stood Amy McIlvanie, arms tightly crossed, face carefully neutral. When the other girls finished their welcome, she stepped forward and said, stiffly, "It's very nice to see you again," (with an undertone in her voice which suggested it was anything but), then spun on her heel and quickly walked away.
Later that night, the two discussed the "Amy situation," as they'd come to think of it. "Gosh, that Amy is such a snob," groused Lana. Melanie, lying flat on her back on her bed, murmured in agreement.
"I wish there was some way we could get Sam to spank her again," Lana went on. Not hearing any response, she glanced over at Melanie and saw the faraway look and mischievous grin which meant her friend was hatching a scheme.
"What? What are you thinking?" Lana asked, interested. "I'm not sure, yet," Melanie replied in a thoughtful voice. "Let me think it over tonight, and I'll tell you tomorrow."
Lana couldn't hardly sleep that night, wondering what Melanie had planned. On the one hand, the idea of watching Amy's bare bottom get spanked had a strong appeal. On the other, Melanie's plots did have a tendency to backfire, usually resulting in a sound spanking -- for both girls.
The next morning, the two huddled in their usual corner of the schoolyard as Melanie outlined her plan. "We'll tell Sam that Amy spanked us after practice tonight. Then Sam will spank her, and we'll get to spank her, and she'll get kicked off the cheerleading squad so we won't have to put up with her any more."
A bit taken aback by Melanie's audacity, Lana thought quickly. The plan did sound appealing, but ... "How will we get Sam to believe that Amy spanked us?"
"Easy," Melanie answered. "We'll show him the proof."
"Proof? What proof?"
Grinning again, Melanie reached into her backpack and produced ... her "special hairbrush." "We'll use this on each other. If Sam asks for proof, we'll show him our bright red bottoms."
Aghast, Lana sputtered, "But, Melanie, I don't want to be spanked!"
"Oh, come on, Lana! It'll only hurt for a little while! And it's better than having Amy around for the whole season!"
"Will Sam believe us?"
Melanie's smile went from mischievous to smug. "Who do you think he'll believe -- us, or someone who got his beloved little sister and her best friend spanked this winter?"
That cinched it; Lana agreed. At cheerleader practice that day, Amy repeatedly snubbed both girls, only strengthening their resolve. Lana steamed inside as she watched Amy's snooty expression. She relished the idea of watching that stuck-up smile get wiped away.
After practice, Melanie and Lana lagged behind as the other girls left, then slipped into the girls' restroom. They made sure no one else was around. "Perfect," said Melanie as she took the hairbrush from her backpack. "Come on, I'll do you first." She led Lana into one of the stalls and instructed her to bend over and place her hands on the seat of the commode. Lana did so. She felt Melanie flip her skirt up, then start pulling down her panties. "Do you have to do it like that?" she asked, squirming in spite of herself. "We have to make this look good! Now hold still!" Melanie instructed, lowering Lana's panties to her knees. Lana put her head down, shut her eyes tightly, and braced herself. Still, she was unprepared for the first impact of hairbrush on her bare cheeks. Despite her resolve, she yelped loudly and jumped upright.
"Quiet!" Melanie commanded. "We don't want anyone coming in and catching us!" Reluctantly, Lana resumed her position, then buried her face against her right arm. Melanie wrapped her arm around Lana's waist, to hold her steady, and resumed smacking her friend's rump. Lana kept her face tightly pressed against her arm, muffling most of her squeals, as Melanie plied her buttocks with the hard wooden hairbrush. The spanking went on and on, until Lana was certain every bit of flesh had been stripped from her bottom. Finally, she felt Melanie relax her grip, saying, "I guess you're red enough."
Lana straightened up slowly, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, her hands instinctively going to her burning backside. Melanie swatted her hands away. "Don't rub! We need to be bright red when we see Sam! And don't pull your panties up yet, either," she added as Lana bent over to do just that. Melanie gave Lana a few more seconds to settle down, then handed her the hairbrush, reached up under her skirt and pulled her panties down, and bent over the commode, saying, "Now, you do me."
All afternoon, Lana had been doubtful that she'd be able to spank Melanie hard enough to produce a bright red behind. Now, with her own stinging rump providing incentive, her doubts fell away. Taking a position to one side of her friend, she laid on with the hairbrush as hard as she could. Melanie, apparently surprised by the force of the blows, wriggled under the impact, lifting first one foot, then the other, up into the air. Lana just tightened her grip and spanked harder.
Melanie's fair skin reddened rapidly; before long, her struggles increased and she said, "Enough, enough! Let me up!" Lana couldn't resist giving two extra swats before releasing her hold. Melanie shot her a reproachful glare as she pulled her panties back into place. She then took the hairbrush from Lana, bent her back over, pulled her skirt up, and gave her six more swats ("To touch you up," she explained, but Lana doubted this).
Melanie replaced the hairbrush in her backpack as Lana rearranged her panties. "Now, when we get to Sam, let me do all the talking. You just back me up," she said firmly as they headed for the restroom door. After peering carefully out into the deserted hallway, they ran quickly through the hallway to the parking lot.
Sam leaned against his car, hands on hips. He saw the girls coming and took a step toward them. "You two certainly took your time -- what's wrong? What happened?" he asked, his impatience changing to concern as he noticed their red, tear-stained faces.
"Amy spanked us!" Melanie wailed as she flung herself against her brother's legs.
"What?" Sam cried, incredulous. "Amy spanked you?"
"Yes," Melanie sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. "After practice, we had to go the girls' room. She came in behind us and wouldn't let us out. She said she was going to pay us back for this winter. She -- she took a hairbrush out of her purse and picked us up under her arm. Then she -- she pulled our panties down and spanked our bare bottoms!"
Lana was impressed; Melanie was good. "I can't hardly believe this," Sam responded. Without another word, Melanie spun around, bent over, flipped her skirt up, and yanked her panties down. "Show him, Lana!" she hissed at her friend. Lana, after a quick glance around to make sure there were no other witnesses, complied. They heard Sam gasp as he beheld their hot, scarlet bottoms.
"So, she really did spank you," he said thoughtfully. "Uh huh," Melanie answered, "just like I told you. First she spanked Lana, then me."
"But - - didn't she remember what I told her last time?"
Fortunately, Melanie was prepared for this line of questioning, too. "She said she wasn't afraid of you. She said you couldn't do anything to her."
This had the desired effect. "She did, did she?" Sam asked. Both girls could see his jaw muscles tightening.
"That's what she said, Sam," Melanie replied. "That's right, Sam, she said it," Lana added, hoping she sounded convincing.
"Well, we'll just see about that," Sam said, looking over the girl's heads. Then his anger softened as he glanced down at them again. "Come on, let's go home."
The girls endured the trip to Melanie's in painful silence. Once there, Sam wasted no time in gathering the two in his arms and onto his lap. Melanie's parents were working late, so the trio sat in silence for a long time, Sam's jaw muscles clenched again as he no doubt contemplated Amy's fate. Despite her stinging backside, Lana felt in absolute ecstasy; a bonus "cuddle session" with Sam, and the delicious anticipation of seeing Amy get hers tomorrow. This was definitely a worthwhile spanking, she concluded as she snuggled closer to Sam's massive chest.
Sam walked Lana home that night. On her doorstep, he scooped her up. "You're coming straight over after school tomorrow, right?" he asked, smiling broadly. "Right," Lana answered, returning his smile. They gave each other a long hug before he put her down and headed for home.
Lana later decided that she might just as well as stayed home from school the next day. Between their slightly sore bottoms and the thought of Amy McIlvanie's impending doom, neither girl could concentrate on her schoolwork. After the final bell rang, they easily broke their earlier records for the race to Melanie's house.
As anticipated, Sam was seated on the sofa, the television set already turned off. When the girls entered, he silently rose and indicated the couch to them. They grinned at each other as they took their seats, Sam meanwhile heading for the kitchen.
Lana experienced a delicious sense of deja vu when Sam re-entered the living room. As before, he had Amy McIlvanie, gagged and restrained, cradled in his arms. Instead of her cheerleader outfit, though, she had on a T-shirt and a pair of green nylon running shorts. She writhed and squealed through her gag.
Sam didn't waste any time with preliminaries. He sat down in the easy chair and dumped Amy unceremoniously over his lap. Ignoring the girl's struggles and imprecations, he yanked her shorts and panties down to her knees. Amy's eyes looked about to pop out of her head.
"I warned you this would happen, Amy," Sam said. "Now I'm going to spank you, and the girls are going to spank you, and then we're going to Mrs. Chamberlain." Then he raised his hand over her naked rump.
"Yeah," Melanie interjected, "and I want to be first, just like I was first last night."
Sam's hand stopped a fraction of an inch from Amy's tightly-clenched bottom cheeks. He looked over at Melanie. "Do you mean to say that Amy spanked you first last night?"
"Yes," Melanie replied, not comprehending.
"That's funny. Last night, you said she spanked Lana first."
Suddenly, Lana got that fluttering sensation deep in her stomach she usually felt whenever one of Melanie's plans started unraveling. No one in the room, Amy included, moved for a few moments; then Sam asked, quietly, "Well? Which was it?"
Lana couldn't speak. She looked over at Melanie, who was doing her best "deer caught in the headlights" impression. Sam waited a few seconds more, then said, "Amy didn't spank either of you, did she? And tell me the truth this time."
Slowly, the girls found their tongues and confessed the whole plan. Sam sat silently, his frown deepening as they went on. When they'd finished, he took the handcuffs off Amy and let her up. "Looks like we all owe you a big apology, Amy," he said as she climbed to her feet. Amy pulled her shorts and panties back up, then carefully took the tape off her mouth. "I told you I didn't spank anybody," she told Sam reproachfully.
"I'm sorry, Amy," Sam answered. "I never thought they'd lie to me like this." He then turned his attention back to Melanie and Lana. "We'll be going to Mrs. Chamberlain after all, but not about Amy. Girls, it looks like your cheerleading days are over."
Lana reeled from the impact of Sam's statement, her anguish increased by the huge smile on Amy's face. "Sam, NO!" pleaded Melanie. "Please don't do that! It isn't fair!"
"Not fair?" Sam replied, angrier than Lana had ever seen him. "You tried to trick me into spanking Amy and getting her thrown off the squad! How fair is that?"
Melanie fell silent, tears running down her cheeks. Lana decided to try her luck. "Sam ... I know what we did was wrong, but ... I don't want to stop being a cheerleader. Isn't there some other way, something else you could do? Please?"
Sam sat silently, gazing at the two. Finally he stood up. "Well ... maybe there is another way. But it depends on Amy's cooperation." He turned to the girl. "Amy, would you join me in the kitchen, please?"
Melanie and Lana remained on the sofa, hoping desperately for their future, as Amy followed Sam out of the room. A few moments later, they came back in. Sam headed up the stairs while Amy stood, facing the girls, a decidedly evil smirk on her face. They squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. Eventually, Melanie ventured, "What's going to happen?"
"You'll find out," was Amy's only reply.
Before long, Sam came back down the stairs. Both girls gasped when they saw him carrying Melanie's "special hairbrush." "Sam, what are you doing?" Melanie protested. "You promised you wouldn't spank us any more."
Gently, Sam replied, "I'm not going to be spanking you." Then he handed the hairbrush to Amy.
Lana's stomach nearly turned itself inside out. "No, Sam! Not her! Please, don't let her spank us!" Melanie whined.
"I'm giving you the same option I gave Amy last time. Either she spanks you, or we go to Mrs. Chamberlain. Your choice."
Some choice, Lana thought. On the one hand, she did deserve a spanking, but she'd rather have anyone else on the planet -- heck, anyone else in the universe -- spank her, instead of Amy. On the other hand, to lose her spot as a cheerleader, especially under these circumstances, when everyone would know she was punished ...
"I'll take the spanking," she finally replied. Melanie looked over at her, then down at her lap, then at Sam. "Me, too," she said softly.
"Okay," Sam answered. He walked over to the couch and sat down between the girls. Taking hold of Melanie, he lifted her into position across his lap. Lana soon felt a different, much less pleasant sense of deja vu as she found herself lying alongside her friend.
Sam raised both girls' skirts, then reached for Melanie's panties. "No! Not on my bare bottom! Please, Sam!" begged Melanie, squirming vigorously. "Shut up and take it, you little brat!" Amy responded.
Bent over Sam's lap, neither girl could see the venomous look he shot Amy. She took a step backwards and her smirk vanished, only to reappear as he turned his attention back to the two. "That's how Amy got it, and that's how you're going to get it," he explained. "Remember, you can still choose to go to Mrs. Chamberlain."
Melanie settled down. Sam quickly finished his business with her. Lana swallowed hard as she felt him peeling her panties down. He then clamped one arm firmly around the girls' waists and the other across their knees. "All right, Amy, go ahead," he said.
Lana shut her eyes tightly and braced herself. Amy prolonged their agony a bit longer, then Lana heard a loud CRACK! and a shrill squeal from Melanie. Almost immediately, a second CRACK! sounded. Lana howled as the pain washed through her. A sting rose in her still-tender backside from the very first spank. Just for a moment, Lana wondered if she'd made the right choice; then her resolve redoubled and she steeled herself again.
As Amy wielded the hairbrush mercilessly, though, Lana felt herself breaking. She tried to concentrate on the reason for the spanking. I deserve this! I've been a bad girl! I need this spanking! she told herself repeatedly. But, between the constant pain in her behind and the inescapable knowledge that Amy, Amy, was spanking her bare bottom, she couldn't hold out. Kicking and struggling against Sam's iron grip proved useless, so she went completely limp and put all her energy into crying. Still, Amy spanked on and on.
At last, through the red haze in her brain, Lana heard Sam say, "Okay, that's enough." CRACK! CRACK! "I said that's _enough!_" And so, the spanking ended. Sam released his hold, but it was several long minutes before either girl felt like standing.
The two eventually regained their feet, only to find their humiliation not yet over. Sam made them stand before Amy and apologize to her. When they'd finished, he said, "Now, it's all over, and nobody has to go see Mrs. Chamberlain."
"I ought to turn you two in anyway," Amy interjected. "It'd serve you two brats right."
Sam took one giant step over to Amy and grabbed her chin in his hand. "In the first place, if you did that, I'd make sure she found out about the boulder incident this winter," he informed her. "In the second, if you went back on your word, that might just make me mad enough to spank you anyway." Amy's eyes flared briefly, but she bit back her response. "Okay," she sighed.
"Fine," said Sam, taking the hairbrush back. "Can I give you a lift anywhere, Amy?"
"No, that's all right. Just let me use your phone."
"It's in the kitchen," Sam said. Amy left the room for a few moments, coming back to explain that her ride was on the way, and she'd wait outside, if it was all the same to them. Sam indicated his approval, and she left without another word.
After Amy'd gone, Sam stood quietly, looking at both girls. Lana hoped he'd start comforting them soon. Surely she could at least get a "cuddle session" out of this?
Finally, Sam spoke. "Melanie, would you please go to your room for a while? I need to talk to Lana alone."
"But, Sam --" Melanie started.
"Melanie, please!" Sam cut her off. "I'm asking you nicely. Don't make me carry you." Both girls knew he would do just that. Reluctantly, Melanie headed up the stairs to her room.
When they were alone, Sam carefully picked up Lana and carried her to the sofa, gently setting her on his lap. Lana relaxed as she felt Sam's arms enfold her. This certainly felt better!
But Sam's usual warmth was still absent. "Lana," he inquired, "do you like getting spanked?"
Astounded, Lana shook her head. After what just happened, how could he even ask?
"Well," Sam said, "it sure seems like it happens to you often enough." Privately, Lana agreed. Sam went on, "Tell me the truth. This was Melanie's idea, wasn't it?" She nodded. "How many of Melanie's little schemes have you gone along with lately?"
"Well," she answered slowly, counting them off. "There was the broomstick, the Chinese handcuffs, the music store --"
"What about the bucket?" he reminded her gently.
"Yeah, the bucket," she replied, looking at the small scar on his right temple. "The bucket, the music store, and ... yesterday."
"And what happened to you after all those?"
Lana thought for a moment, then realized what he meant. "I got spanked."
"Right, you got spanked," he agreed. "The point I'm trying to make here, Lana, is that it might be better for you if you stopped going along with so many of Melanie's plots."
He did have a point, but still ... "Sam, Melanie's my best friend. I don't want to break up with her."
"I'm not asking you to break up with Melanie. _I'd_ miss you too much if you stopped coming around. And, when I talk to Melanie, I'm really going to lay a guilt trip on her about getting you spanked so often. But it's all right to tell her no once in a while. If you keep helping her with these harebrained schemes, sooner or later someone's really going to get hurt."
She looked up at him reproachfully, both hands rubbing her backside. Noticing her expression, he chuckled in spite of himself. "You know what I mean." He gave her a big hug, then somewhat changed the subject. "What's the deal with you and Amy, anyway? I thought we settled that this winter."
"Well," Lana tried to explain, "she acts so stuck up all the time, and she's so ... so rude to us."
Sam sighed heavily. "Well, let me tell you a little bit about Amy. I found out a few things after the boulder incident. She's an only child, and her parents are divorced. Her father lives on the other coast, and she rarely sees him. Her mom has a new boyfriend who doesn't like her. Cheerleading is about all she's got to look forward to. And you were going to take that away from her ... because she was a little rude to you."
Lana's stomach started flopping around again. She hadn't fully realized the consequences of her actions. She tried to imagine how she'd feel without her parent's affection and without Melanie's and Sam's friendship. Devastated, she was sure. But Sam wasn't finished yet.
"What's worse, though, is that you lied to me. Now I won't know if I can trust you ever again."
If Lana thought she'd felt devastated before, it was nothing compared to now. "You can trust me, Sam! I won't lie to you again!" she pleaded. He had to believe her!
"I want to believe that, Lana, but ... I wanted to believe you yesterday. Think about that, while I go talk to Melanie," he replied, lifting her off his lap.
Lana sat disconsolately after Sam left the room, his last words still echoing in her mind. A guilt trip, Sam called it; well, Lana felt like she'd just embarked on a guilt trip around the world. Her tears started flowing again as she contemplated what she'd done. She didn't usually feel this miserable after cuddling with Sam!
A few minutes later, Sam came back down the stairs, Melanie cradled in his arms. Lana noticed her friend was crying much harder than she had after her spanking. Apparently Sam's guilt trip was working its wiles on her, too.
Sam resumed his seat on the couch, set Melanie on one knee, and gathered Lana up onto the other. "There, there, now, everything's all right now," he said tenderly, hugging both girls close. The spanking was just to satisfy Amy; the "guilt trips" were the real punishment. Now that they'd been shown the true extent of their transgression, the real "cuddle session" -- the real forgiveness -- could begin. Sam held the two tight as they sobbed their guilty feelings out.
Finally, Melanie and Lana settled down again, Sam's shirt wet with their tears. Lana looked up at her surrogate "big brother". "Sam," she asked, trying to tie up every loose end, "what can we do about Amy?"
Sam thought for a moment. "Be nice to her," he said, finally. "No matter how she treats you, just be nice to her. Remember, she needs this more than you do."
The girls accepted this. It wouldn't be easy, but they could do it. After cuddling a bit longer, Sam said, "Anybody feel like pizza for dinner?"
They enthusiastically agreed. "Tell you what," continued Sam, lifting first Lana, then Melanie, off his lap, "you order it. I gotta go to the little boy's room." He got up and headed out of the room.
"Sam?" Melanie stopped him halfway across the floor. "What do you want on yours?"
"Surprise me," he replied, then smiled and added the words the girls feared they'd never hear from him again:
"I trust you."
The dog days of August laid hard upon the city, and the summer heat hung humid in the air. School, out since early June, would not resume until after Labor Day, three long weeks off. Although Lana would never admit it, she felt thoroughly and totally bored.
The first few weeks of summer vacation went well, enjoying her free time with Melanie and, as his summer job allowed, Sam. Unfortunately, Melanie's parents shipped her off to a summer camp two weeks ago, and she wouldn't be back for another week. Lana begged and pleaded to go along, but her parents refused. The camp dates conflicted with a planned visit by Lana's aunt, uncle, and cousin, and (in her parent's opinion, at least), it was more important for Lana to spend time with family than with friends.
When the visit started, though, Lana found out what her parents really wanted her for: free babysitting. Lana's aunt and uncle had a four-year-old daughter, Darcee. Lana hadn't seen Darcee since right after the younger girl's birth; at the time, she thought Darcee was an adorable baby. It didn't take Lana long to find out that, although Darcee was still adorable, she was also still very much a baby.
Only a few hours in Darcee's presence convinced Lana she'd never met a whinier, more spoiled brat. Darcee had a severe case of the "I wants" -- every sentence out of her mouth started with those words. And, whatever Darcee wanted, Darcee got -- if not immediately, then after an extremely impressive hissy fit. Lana knew very well that any similar actions by her at that age would have gotten her nothing more than a soundly warmed bottom.
Very early in the visit, Lana realized that her father and uncle planned on spending all their time either on the golf course, or drinking beer in the back yard; her mother and aunt, shopping or sipping coffee and visiting. She was expected to entertain dear little Darcee.
Give Lana credit; she tried. She played with the little monster, read to her, fixed her snacks, let her use all her favorite toys. Problem was, nothing was enough for Darcee. She always wanted more. After a few days of serving as Darcee's personal slave, Lana found her nerves continually on edge. Any complaints to her mother and father, though, were met with "Oh, honey, can't you put up with her a little longer? It's only a few more days."
One morning, while walking to a nearby neighborhood park, Darcee suddenly stopped, pointed, and said, "Oooo! What pretty flowers!"
Lana looked where the girl pointed. Naturally, she thought, old man Enslow's yard. He was the neighborhood green thumb -- and the neighborhood grouch. He didn't like kids even looking at his yard, much less getting into it.
"I want some flowers," Darcee said, stepping towards old man Enslow's yard.
"No, Darcee, they aren't ours. Come on, let's go to the park," Lana answered, stopping the girl's progress with a hand on her shoulder.
Darcee spun around, her eyes blazing. "I want some flowers!" she repeated.
Lana sighed. "Darcee, I said no. You can't have any flowers. Now let's go!" she said through tightly clenched teeth, trying to compel Darcee along with a yank on her arm.
Darcee stood her ground firmly. "I want some FLOWERS!" she screamed, stomping her foot, tailing off into a prolonged wail, and generally showing every sign of an extended temper tantrum.
Lana finally snapped. She stepped behind Darcee, pulled up the little girl's sundress, and firmly swatted the seat of her flowered panties. Darcee cut herself off in mid-wail, a look of utter disbelief on her face.
Seizing the initiative, Lana shook her finger in Darcee's face, saying sternly, "When I say no, I mean NO! No flowers! And I don't want to hear another word about it! Now, let's go!" She grabbed the girl's wrist roughly and set off for the park. Surprisingly, Darcee followed without resistance. Even more surprisingly, she played nicely in the park and didn't even put up a fuss when Lana took her home. She reverted to "brat" status when reunited with her parents, of course, but at least Lana had a pleasant morning.
The next morning, the two returned to the park. Darcee, mindful of yesterday's swat, was on her best behavior, but Lana grew bored playing on the teeter-totter and pushing the girl on the swings. After a while, some kids from her school rode up on their bikes. Leaving Darcee to her own devices, Lana went over to talk with them.
They chatted for a while about how their respective summers had gone, the upcoming school year, who they hoped their teachers were, and the assorted other things kids usually talk about. Then the other children moved on, and Lana turned back to Darcee -- and froze. The girl was nowhere to be seen.
Frantic, Lana searched the playground, establishing quickly that Darcee hadn't concealed herself somewhere in the area. Hoping desperately that the little girl went home by herself, Lana set off that way, calling "Darcee!" at the top of her lungs.
Before she got too far, Lana saw something which simultaneously raised and lowered her spirits: there stood Darcee, safe and sound ... in the middle of old man Enslow's yard ... her arms full of his prize azaleas.
"Darcee!" Lana shouted, rushing to her. "You naughty girl! Why did you go off by yourself?"
"See my pretty flowers?" Darcee replied, proffering them to Lana.
"Leave those alone," Lana said. "We've got to go home, now!" She took the flowers from Darcee and dropped them on the ground, then grabbed the younger girl's arm and tried to drag her from the yard.
"No!" Darcee turned stubborn. She pulled away from Lana and bent back to the fallen blossoms. "They're my flowers, and I want them!"
"Darcee, come on!" Lana pleaded, trying to bodily wrestle the girl away. "We've got to get out of here!" Suddenly, a shadow fell over both girls. Lana, looking up, knew instantly their doom was sealed.
Looming over the pair stood old man Enslow, hands on his hips, a severe scowl on his dour face. "What're you girls doing in my yard?" he gruffed.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Enslow," Lana started, but Darcee interrupted. "I've got flowers," she said, her arms full again.
"Those are my flowers. You put them down!" old man Enslow ordered. Thoroughly cowed, Darcee obeyed. The man turned his withering gaze back on Lana. "You I recognize. Who's she?"
"That's my cousin, Darcee," Lana explained. "She's visiting."
"I see. Are you supposed to be responsible for her or something?"
Lana nodded, not feeling very responsible.
"Well," old man Enslow went on, "I think you both need a good lesson." So saying, he scooped Darcee up under one arm and carried her over to a nearby trellis. Putting one foot up on a crossbar, he upended the girl over his raised knee.
Darcee's white-and-blue polka dot sundress rode up to her hips, revealing her white-and-blue polka dot panties. She kicked frantically, but old man Enslow wrapped his arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. With his free hand, he dragged Darcee's panties down to mid-thigh, then smacked her baby-butt.
It was only a little spanking, but then, Darcee was only a little girl. Lana watched silently as old man Enslow administered ten firm swats. Darcee's dimpled bottom went bright pink before he put her down and turned back to Lana. She involuntarily took a step back, certain he meant to spank her, too.
But that wasn't the old man's intent. "If I ever catch either of you on my property again, I'll take a belt to you. Now go home!" he commanded, propelling the crying Darcee into Lana's arms. Lana quickly pulled the girl's panties up and led her away.
All the way home, Lana's thoughts divided between wondering why old man Enslow hadn't spanked her and what she'd tell her parents when she got home. Her luck held for the moment, though; her mother and aunt were out shopping. Lana did everything she could to stop Darcee's crying, finally resorting to Sam's method of taking the girl onto her lap and holding her close until her tears subsided. Even as she cradled the sobbing girl, Lana dreaded the moment when the adults came home.
Much to Lana's surprise, though, Darcee didn't turn her in. The little girl said nothing about their morning's adventure. Lana didn't know why, but since Darcee wasn't bringing the subject up, she saw no need to.
For the rest of the visit, Darcee seemed a changed girl. Her "I wants" and temper tantrums disappeared. Lana went out of her way to be nice to the girl. Of course, they gave old man Enslow a wide berth.
Darcee and her family went home a few days later. After seeing them off at the airport, Lana's father surprised her by stopping at an ice cream parlor on the way home. Over a triple-scoop banana split, Lana's parents lavished her with praise for how she'd handled Darcee. They told her how proud they were of how mature and responsible she'd been. Lana's mother promised her a shopping spree as a reward. Moreover, both parents gave their approval for Lana to start babysitting the neighborhood children -- something she'd been asking to do for a while.
Lying in her bed that night, Lana reflected that, all in all, the visit turned out very well. Darcee's spanking seemed to have done her some good. Lana, on the other hand, had escaped old man Enslow's wrath, and now had a shopping spree to look forward to -- plus the spending money she'd get from babysitting. Yes, things had worked out well for her.
So why couldn't she get to sleep?
Some time in the wee, small hours of the morning, Lana put her denial aside and faced up to the truth. She hadn't been mature or responsible at all. Her neglect caused Darcee's spanking -- whether or not Darcee needed to be spanked. Her parent's pride and trust were totally misplaced.
But ... what could she do about it now? If she told her parents the truth, they'd ground her forever (if they didn't break out the hairbrush). She'd definitely lose her shopping spree -- and her babysitting. Lana couldn't take those consequences.
Lana did finally drift off to sleep, only to wake up the next morning feeling worse. She couldn't hardly look her parents in the eye. Now she understood what old man Enslow meant about teaching them both a lesson. Darcee's lesson was physical; Lana's, mental. Lana was certain she was suffering more.
As her guilt deepened, Lana sought her mind desperately for a solution. She was sure Melanie would know what to do; Melanie was the schemer, not her. But Melanie was out of town, and wouldn't be back for another week. Lana couldn't live with herself that long.
Running quickly out of options, Lana thought back to the last time she'd felt this miserable about herself, and what had happened to make her feel better. As she did, the first small glimmerings of an idea came into her mind. But would it work? Would the person who helped her before help her now? Deep down, she knew she had to at least try.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she lifted the phone and dialed a familiar number. As she'd prayed, Sam answered. "Hi, Lana!" he said cheerfully when he recognized her voice. "Uh, Melanie isn't back from summer camp yet."
"I know, Sam," Lana answered quietly. "Are your parents home?"
"No," he replied hesitantly, confused by her question. "They're both at work."
Lana's luck was holding. "Can ... can I come over for a while? I need to ... to talk to you."
Sam knew Lana well enough to sense her distress. "Sure, I'll be here all afternoon. Come on over."
Lana breathed a sigh of relief as she hung up. Pausing just long enough to change from t-shirt and shorts into a sundress, she hurried over to Melanie's. Sam greeted her warmly and escorted her into the living room. He sat down on the couch, putting them roughly on the same eye level, and asked, "Now, what did you want to talk about?"
Facing the moment of truth, Lana found herself tongue-tied. Sam, sensing her hesitation, invited her up onto his lap; but she shook her head and replied, "No, not yet." Then she took a deep breath and told Sam the whole story about Darcee, old man Enslow, and her "lesson." When she'd done, Sam leaned back and said, "I see your problem. But what would you like me to do about it?"
Here it comes, Lana thought. She rushed it out before her nerve failed her again: "I want you to spank me."
Momentarily startled, Sam bolted upright; then he relaxed again and shook his head. "Lana, you know I can't do it. I promised you I'd never spank you again. I don't break my promises."
"Sam, it's okay! I want you to! It's not a broken promise if I ask you to do it!"
"Lana, I'm sorry, but no. You really ought to be talking to your parents, anyway."
"I can't, Sam, I can't! If they find out I've been lying all this time, they'll really punish me! I'll get grounded, and they won't let me babysit, and they won't trust me any more, and -- and -- and --"
Seeing she was on the verge of hysterics, Sam jumped up off the couch and scooped her up. "It's okay, it's okay, I'll do it," he said, cradling Lana close until she settled down. When the girl's breathing and heartbeat slowed again, Sam looked down at her and asked, "You're positive about this?"
She nodded. "Okay," Sam said. "One question, though. Why me?"
Lana thought for a moment. "First, you spank harder than anyone I know." And that's what I need right now, she added to herself. A good, hard spanking to make sure I've learned my lesson.
Sam chuckled. "I suppose that's a compliment." Lana went on: "Second, you won't tell anyone ... will you?"
Sam nodded firmly. He knew very well that Lana would rather have people believe she still wet the bed than have anyone know about her spankings.
"And, finally, you'll ... comfort me afterwards?"
"You know it, kid," he answered, giving her a big hug. He held her for a bit longer, then: "You ready?"
"Yes," she squeaked out. Sam resumed his seat on the couch, rolling Lana over until she was face down across his lap. He pulled up her sundress, then rested his hand on her bottom, rubbing his thumb along the waistband of her panties. "You know this has to be bare bottom, don't you?" he asked.
Lana nodded. She had hoped it wouldn't be, but she'd put herself in Sam's hands now. He was making the decisions.
Sam tucked his left hand under Lana's waist and lifted her as he lowered her panties to mid-thigh. Despite her resolve, Lana squirmed a bit as she felt the fabric drag across her bottom cheeks. This was the first time she'd been bare bottomed over Sam's knee without Melanie next to her, and she missed her friend's presence.
"Second thoughts?" Sam inquired. "You can still back out."
"No, Sam, it's okay," Lana reassured him. Seconds later, she winced as the first swat landed on her upturned rump. Sam may not have spanked her for quite some time, but he hadn't lost his touch. The pain was more than she'd remembered, and she yelped loudly as the second blow impacted.
"Quiet down!" Sam instructed. "Remember, you asked for this."
That's right, Lana thought, I did ask for it. I deserve it. I've been very, very bad, and I need this spanking. But that didn't make her pain any less.
Sam quickly and efficiently built a fire in Lana's bottom. She counted thirty swats, then said, "That's enough, Sam," and started getting up.
"Done already? I don't think so," he responded, holding her in place and not missing a beat. SMACK! "I'm not stopping until I'm sure you're sorry."
"I am sorry, Sam! I am!" she shouted.
"I don't think you're sorry enough." SMACK! "I don't see any real remorse yet."
She twisted around so he could see her tear-stained face. "What do you call this?" she demanded.
He chuckled again, still not slowing his pace. "You cried harder than that when your folks wouldn't let you go to that Alanis Morrisette concert a couple of months ago." SMACK! "I want to see some real tears!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Real tears? "Sam ... I don't know what you mean!" she howled.
He paused, just for an instant. "Well, maybe this'll help." Then he started spanking again, as hard and as fast as he could. Spank after spank after spank landed rapid-fire on Lana's tender, burning cheeks. She couldn't endure the agony any longer and broke down completely, wailing out loud sobs that racked through her entire body.
That's what Sam had been waiting for: the sign that Lana had achieved the emotional release she craved. He immediately stopped spanking, rolled the girl over again, and cradled her tight to his chest, holding her close as she cried her feelings out.
Eventually, Lana's sobs subsided, and she relaxed in Sam's arms. He stroked her hair for a few moments, then asked, "All better now?" "Yes," she choked out, then turned her face up to his, seeking one last bit of reassurance: "Sam ... you won't ever tell Melanie about this ... will you?"
"Absolutely not," he replied, hugging her tight again. Since he was so good at keeping secrets, he didn't tell her that, three weeks ago, under similar circumstances, he'd spanked Melanie again, too.
Spring's arrival meant the end of high school basketball, and the end of Melanie and Lana's forced association with Amy McIlvanie. After Sam spanked Amy's bare bottom, she'd reverted to ignoring the girls whenever possible. She didn't try any more mean tricks, though. Lana was a bit disappointed; she wouldn't have minded seeing stuck-up Amy get another panties-down session over Sam's knee.
This morning, though, Amy McIlvanie was the furthest thing from Lana's mind. She'd been surprised to hear on television last night that Marky Mark, her absolute favorite singer in the whole world, would be signing autographs at the record store that day! Unfortunately, the hours of his appearance coincided with her school hours. Still, Lana was certain she'd be able to persuade her parents to let her out of school for just this one day.
At the breakfast table, though, all her arguments, protestations, and tears proved in vain. Her parents held firm: she could not miss school for any reason, least of all this. Lana's mother tried to assuage her feelings with some inane story from her own childhood, but it didn't make her daughter feel any better (Lana didn't even know who Donny Osmond was, nor did she care).
Lana pouted all the way to school. It was so unfair! Her parents didn't understand! She felt somewhat reassured, however, that maybe, just maybe, Melanie's parents would be "cooler" and let Melanie go. Maybe she could get an autograph for Lana, too.
One look at her friend's expression, though, and all her hopes were dashed. Without even being asked, Melanie shook her head glumly. The two took a seat in their usual corner of the schoolyard, to commiserate before the morning bell rang.
"Melanie, what are we going to do?" Lana wailed. "I'll die if I don't get an autograph!"
Always the schemer, Melanie soon had that mischievous gleam in her eye that meant she'd contrived a plan. "I think I've got it," she said slowly. "Just before lunch, we can ask to go to the bathroom. Then we can sneak out of school and down to the record store. We'll get back right after lunch, and we won't be missed!"
"Melanie, I don't know," said Lana. Skipping school was something she'd never attempted before, something she wouldn't do lightly. "Are you sure it'll work? What if we get caught?"
"No one's going to catch us!" Melanie declared. "Besides, do you want an autograph or don't you?"
That clinched the deal. About half an hour before the girls' lunchtime, Melanie raised her hand and asked to be excused to the restroom. A few minutes later, Lana made the same request. Meeting in the bathroom, they crept silently through the school halls and out one of the lesser-used doors.
The record store was crowded with girls whose parents were evidently "cooler" than Melanie's and Lana's. They could just barely make out their idol, Marky Mark, inside the store. The girls took their places in line, settling in for a long wait, when they felt large, familiar hands on their shoulders.
Even before they looked, Melanie and Lana knew who it was. Sam loomed over them, an intense scowl across his face. He pointed to the parking lot and snapped out two words: "Car. Now."
Meekly, the pair followed Sam to his car. They climbed in, Lana getting in the back seat. Sam pointed the vehicle in the direction of the girl's school.
After a few minutes' silence, Melanie ventured a question. "Sam ... what were you doing in the record store?"
Sam unclenched his jaw long enough to smile down at his sister. "You were pretty bummed out this morning when Mom wouldn't let you skip school to get an autograph. I decided I'd use my free period to get you each one."
Lana's insides lurched. "Why didn't you tell me?" Melanie demanded, echoing Lana's feelings.
"I wanted to surprise you."
The girls sat in miserable silence for the remaining trip. If only they'd known, they never would have cut school! Now, it seemed, not only would they not get the autographs, but they'd get punished, as well.
As Sam pulled into the grade school parking lot, Melanie tried another gambit. "Sam ... it's still our lunch time. Do you have to tell Mr. Pemberton" (the grade school principal) "what we did? We could get our lunches and act like nothing happened, and nobody'd ever know. Please?"
Resisting the "Bambi eyes" both girls were using on him, Sam replied, "Oh, I'm not going to tell Mr. Pemberton anything."
"You aren't?" The girls' hopes soared.
"No. You are."
Sam led the protesting, pleading pair into the school office, where they were soon ushered into Mr. Pemberton's presence. The principal listened in silence as Melanie and Lana confessed their transgression in halting, little-girl voices, Sam's hands firmly, yet reassuringly, on their shoulders.
When the girls finished their recitation, Mr. Pemberton leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. "Girls, leaving school grounds without permission is a very serious offense. You could be suspended or even expelled for such behavior." He leaned back in his chair as the girls cringed. "However, since this is your first such offense, and you've both been excellent students in the past, I'll be lenient." He paused. "You'll both receive extra homework for the next month. And I'll have to notify your parents."
"No!" Melanie burst out. "Please, don't call my mother! She'll spank me! Please, don't!"
Mr. Pemberton frowned. "A few years ago, young lady, you'd be over my knee right now, getting a paddle applied to your bare behind. Consider yourself fortunate that you're not." Melanie stopped her whining. "All right, you're dismissed. You may finish what's left of your lunchtime." He picked up the phone as Sam escorted the unhappy pair out of the office.
In the hallway, Melanie rounded on her brother, eyes blazing. "I hope you're happy. I'm going to get spanked tonight, thanks to you."
"This isn't my fault, Melanie," Sam tried to explain, but she turned her back on him. "Fine. See you at home tonight," he sighed, heading back towards the parking lot.
Melanie sulked the whole afternoon. Lana wondered what she was so upset about. Sure, she was going to get spanked, but at least she knew what her punishment would be. Lana wondered which option her parents would choose. Grounding? No TV? Take away her allowance? All were punishments she'd experienced in the past. Which route would her parents take?
Not only that, reflected Lana, but after her bottom healed, Melanie's punishment would be over. Hers could stretch on for two weeks, or even longer. It was all so unfair -- especially since it was Melanie's idea to begin with.
Slowly, the school day ground to a finish. Shortly before the final bell, Lana received a message from her mother, instructing her to go to Melanie's right after school. Lana, puzzled, had planned on going straight home to face the music. What would happen at Melanie's?
After the short trip, the girls found an unfamiliar scene in Melanie's living room. Sam was there, as usual, but sitting in an easy chair (the same chair he'd spanked Amy McIlvanie in, Lana noted) instead of on the sofa. And, for once, the television set was off. The couch was occupied by Melanie's and Lana's mothers, arms firmly crossed, faces dour. Melanie ignored her brother's half-hearted smile. She knew from experience that the cruelest thing she could do to Sam was ignore him -- and she intended to do just that, for a long, long time.
Melanie's mother fired the opening salvo. "Girls, what you did today showed very, very poor judgement. We specifically told you not to go to the record store today. You disobeyed our orders and you disobeyed school regulations. You both deserve very severe punishment for that."
"We know, Mom, and we're sorry," Melanie answered. Lana's mother took up the lecture. "Mrs. Harrison and I had a long conversation about you two today. We agreed that since you committed the same offenses, you should get the same punishment. Do you agree?"
The girls exchanged glances. Both knew that Lana's parents didn't usually spank (her recent trip over her father's knee after the broomstick incident nonwithstanding). Perhaps Melanie could avoid a sore bottom too?
"We agree, Mom," Lana replied, and Melanie nodded. "Good," responded the woman, opening her handbag and removing a large wooden hairbrush. Simultaneously, Melanie's mother produced a similar implement she'd been hiding beside her.
Lana's insides took another lurch. Her mom had tricked her into agreeing to a spanking! "No, Mom, no, please don't spank me," she pleaded.
"Now, now, Lana," her mother chided, "Mrs. Harrison and I agree this is the appropriate punishment. She feels Melanie should be spanked for what she did today. Since you did the same thing, you should be spanked, too. It's only fair." She smiled sweetly at her chagrined daughter.
For the first time, Sam spoke. "Then you'd better spank me, too."
The silence in the room was deafening, as four pairs of eyes stared at Sam, who sat impassively. Finally, Mrs. Harrison asked, "What did you say?"
"I cut geometry class today. They skipped out of school, and so did I. If they're going to get spanked, I should, too."
"You cut geometry class? Why?"
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Just didn't feel like going."
"Does the school know?"
"Yeah. I'm on two weeks' detention, starting tomorrow."
"Well," Mrs. Harrison said, "if the school is punishing you, then that's enough. There's no need for further punishment on our part --"
"They've got extra homework for a month, Mom, and you're still punishing them. I deserve the same punishment they get."
"The girls are being punished for disobeying us, not just for breaking school regulations. We told them not to go to the record store, and they did."
"And just when did you say it was okay for me to cut geometry class?"
Sam's mother sighed. "Sam, this is ridiculous. You're much too old to spank!"
"Age has nothing to do with it, Mom. Mrs. Watson said it herself: the girls did the same thing, so they deserve the same punishment. So do I. If I'm not going to get spanked, they shouldn't get spanked either. It's only fair," he finished, mimicking Lana's mother's sweet smile.
"Yeah, Mom, it's only fair," Melanie added. Mrs. Harrison shot her a look that clearly said, one more word out of you, and you're dead.
The girls stood in silence as the mothers wrestled with the situation. They'd already committed to spanking their daughters; backing down now, in the face of Sam's logic, would be a undercutting of parental authority that could have repercussions far beyond today. Finally, Mrs. Harrison, still not quite certain her son was completely serious, decided to see just how far he'd go. "Very well, Sam, if you think you should be spanked, then spanked you will be."
Sam immediately stood up and walked over to the couch. "You want me across your lap?" he asked, towering over his mother.
"Heavens, no!" He'd crush her! "Let's go into the dining room." Sam and Mrs. Harrison left the living room, followed closely by Mrs. Watson and the girls.
Mrs. Harrison decided the dining room table would hold Sam's considerable weight. "Sam, bend down over the table," she instructed. Sam nodded and started undoing his belt. "What are you doing now?" she cried.
"I'm taking down my pants."
"What in the world for?"
"You were going to pull up their skirts, weren't you?" he asked, indicating Melanie and Lana. "I guess so," Mrs. Harrison replied. "Well, if they get spanked on their underwear, then so should I. It's only fair," he answered, continuing to work on his belt.
Lana watched, amazed, as Sam undid his jeans and pulled them down to just above his knees. Underneath, he had on a pair of blue-and-white pinstriped boxer shorts. Lana gasped at the enormous size of Sam's underwear. I could make a blouse out of those, she thought. The next instant, the thought of wearing Sam's old underwear both amused and gagged her, and she stifled a giggle.
Sam hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts. "You want these down, too?" he asked.
"NO!" both mothers cried simultaneously.
"Okay, then. They don't get their bottoms bared either." That was unnecessary, Lana thought. Sam was the only one who'd spanked the girls' bare bottoms (other than Dave and Frank, the Churchill boys, she recalled belatedly).
The ground rules set, Sam laid down across the table. He stretched his legs out and braced his toes against the floor, gripping the table sides to support himself. Looking over his shoulder, he grinned and winked at the girls. Mrs. Harrison moved behind him, then raised her hairbrush and brought it down across his backside.
"Oooo, ow, it hurts, it hurts," Sam cried, but from his tone, Lana could tell he wasn't feeling any pain. His mother administered another swat. "Ow, Mommy, please, no more, it hurts too much," he squealed, grinning and winking again. Neither girl could stifle her giggles this time.
Mrs. Harrison was furious. Sam was making a mockery of the whole procedure! Putting all her weight behind it, she swung the hairbrush again, connecting with the intersection between Sam's rump and his upper thighs.
This time, Sam's exclamation was genuine. "Yeouch!" Quickly, Mrs. Harrison delivered another blow to the same spot. "OWWWW!" Confident that she'd found the range, she continued to rain blows down on Sam's upturned backside, concentrating on one small area. Sam managed to stifle any further outcries, but his grin turned to a grimace.
Mrs. Harrison kept up the pace for two dozen swats, then lowered her arm. "All right, Sam, you can get up now," she informed her son. Sam laid still for a few seconds, breathing heavily, face flushed. In a somewhat-strained voice, he said, "Okay, Mrs. Watson, your turn."
Lana's mother, on the verge of escorting Lana back into the living room, turned and stared at Sam. "What?"
"Your turn to spank me," Sam replied, not moving. "If both of you are going to punish the girls, then both of you should spank me. It's only fair."
"Sam, you're not making sense --" Mrs. Watson started, but Sam's mother cut her off. "No, Beverly, Sam is completely right. You should spank him. Be my guest." Neither Sam, from his bent-over position, nor Melanie or Lana could see the wink Mrs. Harrison gave Mrs. Watson.
Lana's mother took up her position behind Sam. She'd paid attention to his first spanking and attacked the same few square inches of his bottom. Sam tried his best to be brave, but obviously he was feeling the swats; he gave out a low grunt after each spank, and Lana noticed he gripped the table so hard, his knuckles turned white.
After Mrs. Watson administered her two dozen swats, Sam laid still for a moment, then slowly pushed himself to his feet. His eyes were dry, and he managed a grin at the girls, but he winced as he gingerly rubbed his bottom, then slowly pulled his jeans back up.
Once Sam had re-dressed himself, the mothers led Melanie and Lana back into the living room. Sam stood in the doorway, not quite ready to sit yet. Seating themselves in their original positions on the sofa, each woman turned her daughter over her knee. Laying behind Melanie, Lana had an interesting view of her friend's rump as both skirts were whisked up. Lana soon found her attention diverted elsewhere as the hairbrushes started landing.
Both girls resolved to follow Sam's example and take their spankings bravely. Their delicate bottoms were no match for the hard hairbrushes, however, and after a few swats, both girls were squirming and squealing from the impacts. Their mothers showed no mercy and delivered the same two dozen spanks they'd given Sam. After all, it was only fair.
The spankings concluded, each girl resumed her feet and stood before her mother, rubbing her sore backside and awaiting the usual post-punishment lecture. The women sat in silence for about half a minute, then Melanie's mother announced, "All right, girls, it's time for your second spanking."
Both girls, and Sam, were stunned. Melanie spoke for all. "Second spanking? What second spanking?"
"We agreed you all would get the same punishment. Sam got spanked twice, once by Mrs. Watson and once by me. You're going to get spanked by each of us, too."
The girls couldn't believe their ears. Sam thought quickly. "But I'm older than they are. I should know better. I deserve more punishment."
"Now, Sam," his mother replied, "we've been through this. You got spanked twice, so the girls will be spanked twice. It's only fair."
The triumphant look on the mothers' faces told the trio they'd been outwitted by adult logic again. Reluctantly, Melanie laid down across Mrs. Watson's lap, while Lana took a similar position with Mrs. Harrison.
This time, there was no pretense of bravery. Both girls kicked and squalled with the first contact of hairbrush against tender backside. In Lana's opinion, Melanie's mother spanked much harder than hers -- probably because Melanie still got spanked regularly, whereas Lana's mother hadn't spanked her for four years. From the way Melanie was carrying on, though, she might have had a different opinion as to whose mother had the stronger arm.
After their second two dozen, the girls again got to their feet, hoping this time the spankings were truly over. Mrs. Harrison addressed her daughter. "Melanie, we need to talk to Sam in private. Please go to your room and stay there until dinnertime. I'll talk to you later tonight."
Lana eyed her mother, unsure what to do. "Lana, you may go with Melanie if you wish, but I'll expect you home for dinner at six o'clock sharp," Mrs. Watson instructed, waving her hairbrush for emphasis. Lana hoped this afternoon's experience wouldn't result in a revival of hairbrush discipline in her household.
Relieved that the physical part of their punishment was over, the girls turned and fled up the stairs.
A few minutes later found Melanie and Lana standing on a chair in front of Melanie's vanity, skirts up and panties lowered, comparing their bottoms in the mirror.
"Mine's redder," Melanie declared.
"No way! Mine is!" Lana answered.
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"Well ... my mom spanks harder!"
"She should, she's had more practice!"
"That's because you don't get spanked enough."
"No, it's because you're a bigger brat."
A knock on the door interrupted the girls' laughter. Before they could move, the door opened and Sam walked in, a Pee Chee folder in his hand. "Girls, I'm sorry about getting you spanked again -- what are you doing?" he asked, as they hurriedly dropped their skirts.
"Nothing," Melanie said quickly, climbing down from the chair, Lana close behind her.
Sam smiled. "You were comparing butts in the mirror, weren't you?"
"No, we weren't!" said Melanie, firmly, remembering she was mad at Sam.
"Oh, no? Then what's that?" inquired Sam, pointing at Melanie's panties, which stuck out from beneath her skirt.
Blushing furiously, Melanie bent over to pull up her panties. She glared at Sam, who took the hint and gallantly turned his back as the girls rearranged their underwear. When they were decent again, he said, "So, whose was redder?"
"Mine," both girls claimed simultaneously.
Sam got an evil look in his eyes. "Want to see mine?" he asked, his hands moving to his belt again.
"NO!" cried Melanie, a little too swiftly for Lana's taste. She wouldn't have minded a peek at Sam's bare bottom. He'd seen hers often enough.
"Anyway," Sam continued, "the real reason I came in here was to give you these," handing the folder to Melanie. She flipped it open, her eyes widening in surprise. Lana, peering over her shoulder, got the same look. Inside the folder were two 8" by 10" glossy photos of Marky Mark, one inscribed to each of the girls.
"But when -- how did you get these?" Melanie sputtered.
"I knew Mom would really let you have it for skipping school. Between that and the extra homework, I figured you'd been punished enough. So, after I left your school, I went back to the record store and got the autographs. That's why I missed geometry."
"Wow, neat," murmured Melanie, staring in rapture at her photo. Sam turned back to the door. "Well, you've got homework, so I'd better let you get to it. I'll see you tomorrow, Lana, a bit late, I guess. Detention, you know."
"Sam, wait." The girls looked from their photos up at Sam, who'd gotten himself punished to get them these treasures; who'd tried to talk their mothers out of spanking them; who'd accepted a spanking himself when he couldn't. Melanie felt the last of her anger towards him ebbing away as she considered this. "Would ... would you like to stay for a while?"
"Really?" Sam asked, taken aback. Despite their new, friendly relationship, he wasn't often invited into Melanie's private sanctuary. "You want me to stay?"
Melanie's emotions took control. Handing the folder to Lana, she rushed to Sam, hugging him tightly around the waist. "Oh, Sam," she cried, trying to hold her tears in, "I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry!"
"What for, Melanie?" he asked, scooping her up and returning her hug.
"Today at school, I blamed you because I got in trouble. I was mad at you all afternoon," she replied, burying her head against his shoulder. "I know, I know, and it's okay," he comforted, sitting on her bed and setting her on his knee. Lana, feeling left out, climbed up on the other knee. He smiled at her and put his arm around her, then turned back to his sister. "You were just frustrated, Melanie. I don't blame you."
"It wasn't your fault I got spanked, Sam."
"Well ... it was my fault you got spanked twice."
"Yes, but if we hadn't snuck out of school, nobody would have gotten spanked."
Sam didn't feel a response was necessary. In fact, he was quite pleased to see his sister take responsibility for her actions. Melanie continued her apology. "Anyway, I still feel really bad."
Sam's evil grin returned. "Well, I could always spank you again, if it would make you feel any better."
Melanie pondered this for a moment. "I don't feel that bad," she finally replied. Sam laughed and tousled her hair, and she grinned back.
The three sat in silence for a while, then a thought which had been bothering Lana resurfaced. "Sam," she asked tentatively, "was Mr. Pemberton the principal when you were in grade school?"
"Yes, he was," Sam answered.
"Did he spank kids while you were there?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did."
"Did he really use a paddle on their bare bottoms?"
"Ohhh, yes. He most certainly did."
Sam's tone made both girls look up, and his expression confirmed their thoughts. "You mean you -- ?" Melanie started.
"Yes," Sam cut her off. "I'll tell you about it -- some other time. I think we've all have enough of that particular subject for today," he finished, shifting a bit on the bed. The girls, reminded of their still-stinging rumps, agreed.
A few more moment's silence, then Sam asked, "What does this Marky Mark guy sound like, anyway?" They stared at him, amazed, not believing anyone could be unfamiliar with Marky Mark. "Would you like to hear one of his albums?" Melanie asked.
"Sure," Sam replied. She scooted off his lap and headed for her stereo. "Not too loud, now," he reminded her. She smiled back at him as she clicked on the stereo and inserted a CD.
As the music started, Melanie resumed her place on Sam's lap. The three sat together, listening and talking quietly, knowing they'd remember today -- both the pain and the pleasure -- for many years to come.
Autumn had come again, heralding the start of another school year. Melanie and Lana, still settling into the middle school routine, found their thoughts primarily occupied by classes, teachers, their eagerly-anticipated twelfth birthdays, and, still hesitantly, boys.
Tonight, though, the topic of conversation was quite different. A few minutes earlier, Melanie's father, having asked the girls three times to clean up the mess they'd made in the living room (and gotten a slightly too snotty response to his third request), decided to expedite the process via a liberal application of Melanie's "special hairbrush" to the seat(s) of the problem. Regrettably, the girls' graduation from grade school hadn't graduated them to less-embarrassing punishments.
"Now I really miss Sam," Melanie said mournfully as the two laid face-down, side-by-side on her bed, rubbing the sting from their flaming behinds. Lana nodded her agreement; a post-spanking "cuddle session" sounded very comforting right then. Melanie's big brother had opted for a college several hours' drive away; he'd made it home for a few weekend visits, but with the football season in full swing, his free time was severely limited. The girls hadn't seem him for weeks.
"Nobody cuddles like Sam," Melanie went on. "But then, nobody spanks like him, either." The girls exchanged rueful grins as they recalled the many times they'd been face-down over Sam's lap.
"Yeah," Lana said without thinking, "I remember last summer."
Melanie rolled onto her side, staring intently at her friend. "What happened last summer?"
"Uhh ... nothing. Never mind," Lana sputtered, blushing.
"Come on, Lana. You can tell me. I'm your best friend!" Melanie wheedled.
"Well, all right ... but you better promise never to tell anyone else!"
"I promise," Melanie responded solemnly.
"It happened in August, when you were at summer camp ..." and Lana told the story of her cousin Darcee's visit, how her neglect had gotten Darcee spanked by old man Enslow, how her parents hadn't found out and hadn't punished her, how she couldn't live with her guilt, and how she'd finally talked Sam into spanking her again.
"I know it sounds crazy," Lana concluded, "but after he'd spanked me, I felt so much better. Even while I was crying. It felt like -- like I was clean again." Then she looked at her friend's bemused expression, and lowered her eyes. "But you probably don't understand."
"You remember when Sam ran into that police car?" Melanie asked. Lana nodded.
"Would you like to know what else happened that day?"
"Sure," said Lana, intrigued by Melanie's odd tone.
It really all started (Melanie explained) the day before. Sam was at work; Melanie was preparing to go to Lana's, and thence to a summer program at the zoo. As she left her room, she glanced across the hall to Sam's. There, atop his dresser, sat his brand new personal CD player.
Melanie enviously eyed the gadget. Sam had let her try it out, and she'd fallen in love with it. She begged her parents to buy her one; but they were expensive. "Maybe for your birthday," her mother said. Yeah, right, a disgruntled Melanie thought; her birthday was four long months off.
Now, Melanie felt temptation gnawing at her. Surely Sam wouldn't mind if his beloved little sister "borrowed" his CD player? After all, he rarely refused her anything. And, anyway, she'd be home before him, and he'd never know ...
Like most children, Melanie preferred to ask forgiveness, rather than permission. Checking that the coast was clear, she scuttled into Sam's room, grabbed the player, ran back to her room, jammed a few CDs into her fanny pack, and fled the house.
Once safely out of eyeshot, Melanie inserted one of her favorite CDs into the player and pushed the "play" button. She sighed contentedly as music filled her ears. Now, if she could just get the darn thing hooked onto her belt --
As the girl struggled with the awkward clip, the CD player slipped from her fingers, landing with a loud CRASH! on the cement sidewalk.
Melanie stood rooted for a few seconds, then snatched up the player and jabbed repeatedly at the "play" button. Nothing. None of the other buttons functioned either. She held the box to her ear and shook it, hearing the discomforting rattle of loose parts.
Her insides squirming, Melanie desperately cast about for at least a short-term solution to her problem. In the driveway of the next house sat a big garbage can. She looked around; no witnesses. Quickly, she sped to the can, lifted the lid, threw the broken player in (remembering to extract her CD first), then beat feet to Lana's.
Preoccupied with what she'd tell Sam, Melanie didn't get much out of the program at the zoo. ("I wondered why you were so quiet that day," Lana commented.) All too soon, she heard his car pulling into the driveway and, a few minutes later, his footsteps on the stairs. She laid back on her bed and buried her nose in a comic book, willing herself to relax.
Sam rapped lightly on her bedroom door and stuck his head in. "Hi, Melanie!" he said lightly. "How was the zoo?"
"Okay," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Did you see Kimberly?" This was an old family joke. "Kimberly" was supposedly Melanie's identical twin, who'd been donated to the zoo and now resided in the monkey house. Sometimes, when Sam was in an especially teasing mood, he referred to his sister as "Kimberly" after visiting the zoo.
"No!" Melanie snapped, perhaps too abruptly.
Sam, a bit miffed by the rebuff, shrugged his shoulders, said "Okay," and withdrew. So far, so good; but the real test still laid ahead of her.
Within seconds, her stomach knotted up again as she heard Sam holler downstairs to their mother, "Mom, have you seen my CD player?"
"No, Sam, I haven't," came the reply.
He reappeared in Melanie's doorway. "Melanie, did you borrow my CD player? I left in on my dresser, and now it isn't there."
"No, Sam," she answered, not trusting herself to say anything further.
"I wonder where it could be," he mused aloud. She laid still, fearing he'd ask her again, when their mother came to her rescue.
"Sam," she called up, "are you sure you didn't leave it in the park? You know how forgetful you are." Sam often met his friends in a nearby park for pickup football games.
"No, I'm sure I brought it home ... leastwise, I'm pretty sure ... I meant to bring it home ... crud. I bet I left it there." He disappeared again; she heard him running down the stairs and, a few moments later, the front door slamming.
Melanie exhaled heavily. For the moment, at least, she was safe.
The family was just sitting down to dinner when Sam returned. "Any luck?" their mother asked. "No," he said disgustedly, "it's long gone."
"Well, I hope this teaches you to be more careful with your things."
"It will, Mom. Believe me, it will."
Inwardly, Melanie smiled. No one even suspected her. For once, she'd gotten away clean.
* * *
The next morning, Sam ran some errands for the family. Melanie tagged along. They stopped at a bakery to order a cake for their father's upcoming birthday (and to pick up a few of Melanie's favorite eclairs). On the way out, Sam held the door open respectfully for two police officers, coming in for a break.
In the parking lot, Sam's car stalled twice before he got it running. As he backed out of the spot, the engine coughed and sputtered again. Sam muttered an expletive under his breath and goosed the gas pedal, causing the car to lurch backward -- and smash into the police cruiser, parked right behind them.
Sam repeated the expletive, much louder this time, and pulled the car forward. He and Melanie both got out and surveyed the damage. Sam's car was relatively unscathed, but the police cruiser had a bent-in fender and broken tail light.
Melanie quickly looked around. They'd parked on the side of the bakery, away from the windows, and there was no other traffic. "Sam," she said quickly, "no one saw us. We can just get in the car and drive away." Sam shook his head and slowly started toward the bakery.
"Sam," Melanie pleaded, "let's just go. Who's ever going to know?"
Sam turned back to his sister, his expression solemn. "I know. No one else has to."
Her brother's words burned in Melanie's ears throughout the almost surreal scene that followed. She meekly followed Sam into the bakery, where he confessed his negligence to the police officers. They gathered up their coffee and donuts and headed back outside. The policemen, perhaps impressed by Sam's honesty and respectful attitude (or, more likely, intimidated by his imposing size), contented themselves with getting Sam's insurance information and giving him a brief lecture on responsibility. The only notice they took of Melanie came near the end of the lecture, when one of them indicated her and said, "You ought to be setting a better example for this young lady." Sam merely nodded his head and replied, "Yes, sir," the same response he'd given to all the police officers' comments.
The ride home went in grim silence. Melanie's father hadn't left for work yet when the two returned, and Sam promptly reported the accident to him. Much to Melanie's surprise, their father took the news rather calmly. After ascertaining the extent of the damage, he asked his son, "You remember the agreement we made when you got your license?"
"Yes, Dad," Sam answered.
Mr. Harrison extended his hand. "Okay, then, hand it over."
Without hesitating, Sam took out his wallet, removed his driver's license, and surrendered it to his father. "You'll get this back after Labor Day," Mr. Harrison said as he pocketed the license. Sam nodded. "And you'll pay for the repairs to the police car yourself." Melanie winced. There, she knew, went a good portion of Sam's summer earnings.
Concluding the lecture, Mr. Harrison asked, "You have anything to say for yourself?" Sam shook his head. "All right, you're dismissed."
After their father left, Melanie laid on her bed, pondering. Yesterday, she'd been very bad, concealed her actions, and gotten away with it. Today, Sam had been very bad, admitted everything, and been severely punished. What did that mean?
It means Sam's a real sucker, a small voice deep within her said.
No! Melanie sat up violently, rejecting the suggestion. It meant Sam was mature enough to take responsibility for his actions. If she was nearly that mature, she'd march right into Sam's room and admit what she'd done.
Well, why don't you do just that? the small voice taunted.
Resolutely, Melanie got to her feet and headed out of the room. No! I didn't mean it! I was teasing! Go back! her inner voice said, but she ignored it.
Sam was lying on his bed, reading a football magazine. Melanie rapped lightly on the door. "Sam? Can I talk to you?"
"Sure, Melanie," he said, putting aside the magazine and sitting up. "Come on in."
Tell him never mind! Get out, while you still can! pleaded her inner voice. She shushed it. "Sam ... yesterday I ... I borrowed your CD player ... and I broke it ... I'm really sorry."
A severe frown furrowed Sam's brow. You've done it now, her inner voice chided, and disappeared for more pleasant surroundings. "How did it happen?" he asked quietly.
She outlined yesterday's events. When she'd done, he slowly shook his head. "Melanie, do you have any idea how much trouble you've put me through? I spent an hour in the park yesterday looking for that thing! I phoned all my friends. Billy Cutler thought I was calling him a thief, and we got in a big fight." He gave a heavy sigh. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
"I ... I was afraid." Unable to meet his gaze, she dropped her eyes to the carpet. "You probably hate me."
Before she could react, he leaned forward, scooped her up in his arms, and sat her on his lap. "Melanie, I could never hate you. I'm not very happy with you right now, but I don't hate you."
"I'm real sorry, Sam," she replied, fighting back the tears. "I'll save up my allowance and buy you a new one."
He snorted. "Do you have any idea how much one of those costs?" She shook her head. He told her. She swallowed hard; there would go her allowance for most of the rest of her childhood.
"Well ... there must be something I can do," Melanie said. Sam stared absently for a moment. "I know what I'd like to do," he replied, finally. "I think it's just what you need. Unfortunately, I said I'd never do it again."
Melanie knew what he was talking about. And, deep within her, she agreed; it was just what she needed. "Sam," she asked hesitantly, "would you ... would you do it anyway?"
"You're joking."
"No, Sam, I'm not. You're right. It'd make you feel better, and I deserve it."
"Let's make sure we're on the same page. I'm talking about spanking you. Is that what you're talking about?" She nodded. "You really want me to spank you?"
"Well ... not really, but I'd rather have a sore rear end than you mad at me."
"I see. Okay, if you're really sure. But not right now." She gave him a questioning look. "The way I'm feeling now, if I spanked you, I'd probably break ever bone in your bottom."
From the clench in Sam's jaw, and the tension she felt in his body, Melanie agreed. Indeed, her brother's lap, where she normally felt so safe and secure, didn't seem a very good place for her right then.
Sam gently lifted his sister off his lap, got up himself, and headed downstairs. Melanie knew where he was going. Earlier, the family had purchased a cord of wood for winter fires. Sam was supposed to split and stack the wood. He'd been procrastinating, but now he attacked the woodpile with a vengeance. Melanie watched from her bedroom window, grimacing as her brother wielded the axe. She knew he was picturing her with each stroke.
Sam worked on the woodpile for over an hour before putting the axe aside. Dripping with sweat, he came back into the house and up the stairs. Melanie met him at the door to her room. "Not yet," he said. "Let me take a quick shower, and then I'll be ready. You'd better get ready, too."
"Get ready?"
He reached down and lightly patted the seat of her cutoff jeans. "Unless you want to make things more difficult for me, you'd better do something about these."
Melanie pondered her brother's words as she heard the shower running. What did Sam mean?
Her inner voice returned. He means he's going to spank your bare bottom, and he doesn't want to have to pull your pants down, it remarked sarcastically.
Made sense to her, Melanie decided. She started sorting through her wardrobe, ignoring her inner voice's urgings to check her piggybank and see if they had enough for a bus ticket to Aruba. Finally, she settled on a light, summery, sleeveless dress, so short that she usually wore pants beneath it. Not today, though. Then she sat on the end of her bed, hugging her teddy bear and waiting for Sam to finish his shower.
A few minutes later, the water stopped; after another brief interval, Sam appeared in her doorway, wearing a T-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants. "Where do you want to get it?" he asked.
She thought quickly. They were alone in the house, both parents at work. "The living room," she said finally, choosing the site of so many previous spankings.
"Okay. Come on," he replied, extending his hand to her. She slid off the bed and put her hand in his. On the threshold of her room, another thought occurred. She stopped and looked up at him. "Sam ... you're not going to use the hairbrush ... are you?"
He laughed. "Melanie, I don't need the hairbrush."
They walked hand-in-hand down the stairs into the living room. Sam sat on the sofa and lifted Melanie across his lap. He pulled up her dress, then rested his hand on her pantied rump. "Before we begin, I need to make sure you understand why you're getting this spanking."
"Because I borrowed your CD player without asking, and I broke it."
"Not quite," he responded. "You should have asked first, but I would have said yes anyway, so that isn't a very big deal. And breaking the player was an accident, it could have happened to anyone. No, Melanie, the reason you're getting spanked is because you lied yesterday. If you'd owned up to everything, this wouldn't be happening now."
Or if you'd kept your big mouth shut, her inner voice chimed in. Shut up, she replied. Anyway, it was too late now; she felt Sam's left hand under her, lifting her gently, while his right hand dragged her panties down to just below her bottom cheeks. He gave her bare fanny two light pats, then started in for real.
Determined to take her punishment like a big girl, Melanie kept relatively quiet through the first few swats. With the fourth spank, and every spank after that, she couldn't keep a small outcry from escaping her lips. The outcries grew in volume as the sting in her rump increased. Sam was right; he didn't need the hairbrush!
The pain was becoming unbearable. Melanie started wriggling and squirming on Sam's lap, trying to remove her bottom from the line of fire. Sam pinned her firmly in place and just kept spanking and spanking and spanking. Unable to move, the girl started kicking desperately, thinking Sam would never finish.
Then, mercifully, he did. Melanie laid limp, crying uncontrollably. Sam, mindful of his sister's modesty, carefully pulled her panties back up before gently rubbing her burning buttocks. Eventually, he felt her sobs subside and gingerly rolled her over, cradling her to his chest so that the "cuddle session" they both knew she needed could begin.
"Sam," she choked out, "d-do y-you forgive m-me?"
"Melanie," he said softly, "I forgave you before we began."
And he had; all the tension she'd felt in him earlier had completely vanished.
"Just promise me you'll never do anything like this again," Sam continued.
"I promise," she answered.
Until next time, the small voice within her added.
Lana stood in the middle of the bustling toy store, contemplating the object of her greatest desire. Beside her, Melanie asked, "So, are you in, or what?"
Thinking hard, Lana tried frantically to decide. This was Melanie's most ambitious scheme yet, with plenty of potential for problems if the girls got caught. On the other hand, she didn't know how else she'd ever get a Water Lily Barbie ...
The designer doll (with a gown based on the famous paintings by Monet) first appeared about a month earlier. Lana fell desperately in love with the beautiful, delicate Barbie; unfortunately, she carried quite a hefty price tag, far beyond Lana's meager means.
No problem, Lana thought; Christmas was just around the corner, and she made sure the doll headed up her "wish list". A few days later, though, her parents sat her down for a long, serious discussion. The family hadn't had a very good year financially, they explained; things were tight, and expensive Christmas presents -- like Water Lily Barbies -- just weren't possible this year.
Lana felt crushed. Although her father often pretended to be a Scrooge, saying "Bah, humbug," repeatedly and threatening her with no presents, he was actually quite generous. If he seriously said she wouldn't receive a present, she didn't get it. That meant no Water Lily Barbie under the tree this Christmas morning.
A very disappointed Lana now viewed the holiday season bleakly. The arrival of her aunt and uncle, and her little cousin, Darcee (much better behaved than during this past summer's visit) did little to dispel her gloom. She tried to enjoy the family's activities, but her heart just wasn't in it.
A week before Christmas, Melanie and Sam, home from college on winter break, dropped by to invite Lana on a Christmas shopping expedition. "Sure," Lana agreed, glad to get out of the house. "Do you mind if the little monster tags along?", indicating Darcee, who stood shyly nearby, somewhat in awe of Sam's great size.
"Sure, Lana, you can come," Sam replied.
"SA-am!" said Lana, annoyed.
"I'm sorry, Lana. I have to take that back. You're not little."
"That's better," Lana started, then glared up at Sam, realizing belatedly what he'd said. Darcee, seeing Lana get teased, starting giggling. It seemed Sam had made a new friend.
Their time at the mall proved largely uneventful; Melanie and Sam picked out some inexpensive trinkets for their parents, then Sam suggested they split up for a while, so he could get a present for Melanie. Inevitably, the girls wound up in the toy store, by the locked display case which held the designer Barbies. Melanie noticed her friend staring disconsolately at the Water Lily Barbie and asked what was wrong. Lana confessed her craving and her parents' refusal. That's when Melanie proposed her latest scheme.
After waiting a few moments more, Melanie prodded, "Lana? Yes or no?"
Desire overcame her better judgement. "All right," she breathed, "let's do it."
Melanie took Darcee by the hand and led her to the end of the aisle, quickly outlining the little girl's part in the plot. "Remember," she concluded, "when you see me wave, count to ten, then start."
"I can't count to ten," Darcee said.
"Oh. Uh, how high can you count?"
"Five. Wanna see? One, two, three --"
"Okay, I believe you! Count to five twice, then start. And keep it up until I come for you, okay?"
"And then I get ice cream?"
Melanie sighed, rolling her eyes upward. "Yes. Then we'll get you some ice cream."
Leaving Darcee at her post, Melanie moved back towards Lana, then apparently interested herself in the dolls on the opposite side of the aisle. Meanwhile, Lana caught the eye of a store clerk.
"Excuse me, sir," she said respectively as the clerk approached, "I'd like to take a look at one of these Barbie dolls."
"Certainly, young lady," he replied, producing a large ring of keys and unlocking the display case. "Which one are you interested in?"
"That one," Lana answered, pointing to the Star Trek Barbie, mindful of Melanie's admonition to misdirect the clerk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Melanie signal to Darcee.
"Ah, yes, that's a very fine model," the clerk said. "The uniform is an authentic replica from the original series --"
At first, Lana thought a fire alarm had gone off in the store. Then she realized it was just Darcee, doing her stuff.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lana's cousin wailed. Pausing only long enough to take a breath, she repeated her cry. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The clerk hurried to Darcee's side, leaving Lana and the open display case unguarded. "What's the matter, little girl? What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I'm losted! I want my big sister! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Well, let's go to the office, and maybe we can find her," the clerk said, trying to usher Darcee along.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! NO! I want my sister! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! Leave me 'lone, you bad man! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
As Darcee continued her tirade, Lana looked around; everyone was focused on the apparently distraught child. Quickly, she took the Water Lily Barbie from the display case, stuffed it under her coat, and walked away as nonchalantly as she could.
After Lana vanished from sight, Melanie pushed her way through the crowd gathered around the still-screaming little girl. "Darcee!" she exclaimed. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you! You should know better than to wander off like that!
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I been right here! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! You're the one who got losted! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"It's okay, I'll take care of her," Melanie reassured the onlookers. "That's enough! Knock it off!" she hissed in Darcee's ear. Darcee wound herself down, wiping at her eyes with her coatsleeve. As the shoppers went back to shopping and the clerks to their duties, Melanie lead Darcee to their prearranged rendezvous by the electronic games, where an anxious-looking Lana awaited.
"Did you get it?" Melanie asked.
"Yeah," Lana answered, nervously patting the bulge in her coat. "Let's get out of here, okay?"
"Take it easy! You'll blow the whole thing!" Melanie checked her watch. "It's almost time to meet Sam, anyway."
"And get my ice cream," Darcee reminded.
"And get your ice cream," Melanie repeated.
"Not so fast, young ladies!"
They all whirled around at the unexpected intrusion. Standing over them were a woman in a sharply tailored business suit; the clerk who'd unlocked the display case for Lana; and another man, whose badge identified him as store security. All three bore rather severe frowns.
"We'd like to ask you a few questions about the doll that's under your coat," the woman said.
Lana felt her insides start churning around. Busted!
Melanie tried to brazen it out. "What doll? We don't know what you're talking about!"
The woman turned to the clerk. "Is this the one you opened the display case for?" He nodded. Then, to the security man, "And the one you saw on the video?"
"Yes, Ms. Medina," he responded.
"Look," Melanie objected, "you're making a mistake. And, anyway, who are you to question us?"
"I'm the store manager," the woman replied frostily. "Perhaps we should discuss this in my office?"
"We're not going anywhere with you --" Melanie started, but Lana knew they were doomed. She took the Barbie from under her coat.
"Lana!" Melanie exclaimed.
"Give it up, Melanie. It's over," Lana replied.
"A wise decision, young lady," Ms. Medina commented as she accepted the doll with a decidedly wicked smile. "But we still have some things to talk about. My office is this way."
The adults escorted the children to an inner office, where they took seats before a large wooden desk. "Now, then," said the manager, making herself comfortable behind the desk, "what are your names?"
Dead silence from the girls.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, ladies. Is there an adult somewhere in the mall who's responsible for you?"
More silence.
"Still not talking, eh? I guess I have to call the police, then," she went on, picking up her phone.
"My brother. Sam Harrison. He's here," Melanie blurted out.
"Have him paged, will you?" Ms. Medina instructed the clerk. An icy silence reigned over the room when he'd left. Darcee looked up at her two fellow miscreants. "Can I have my ice cream now?" she asked hopefully.
Several nerve-wracking minutes passed before a worried-looking Sam burst into the office. "Melanie? Lana? Darcee? What's going on?" he asked.
Ms. Medina outlined the situation for him. "Melanie? Is this true?" he asked his sister, obviously wanting not to believe.
Her silence, and her inability to meet his eyes, were all the answer he needed. "I see." Turning back to the manager, Sam inquired, "Well? What do we do now?"
"Since they don't have any prior records, and the merchandise was recovered before it left the store, our policy is to release them to adult custody," Ms. Medina replied.
"I'm 18. Will I do?"
"Certainly." Lana breathed a huge sigh of relief. "But, if they're ever apprehended again, they will be turned over to the authorities for prosecution."
"That sounds only fair," Sam responded, giving the girls the evil eye. Lana gulped. She knew the odds were good she'd be "turned over" for this offense, too.
The manager recorded the girls' names and addresses (even little Darcee's), then dismissed them. As they started to file from the room, Sam stopped them. "Melanie? Lana? Don't you have something to say to Ms. Medina?"
Not very likely, Lana thought -- then saw what he meant. Swallowing hard, she turned to the manager and stammered out, "I-I'm s-sorry, Ms. Medina."
"I'm sorry, too," Melanie added.
"I hope you don't think that constitutes an adequate punishment," Ms. Medina said to Sam.
"Oh, no. I quite assure you, their punishment hasn't even started yet," Sam answered. Lana gulped again.
Nobody said a word during the drive home. Both Harrison parents were at work, giving the girls a temporary reprieve ... which Melanie decided to take advantage of.
"Sam," she addressed her brother, "do you have to tell Mom and Dad what we did?"
"I don't see how I can't," he replied, disbelief evident in his voice. "Melanie, what you did was very wrong, and I can't ignore it."
"No -- I mean -- couldn't you punish us?"
Suddenly Lana saw a faint ray of hope. If they could talk Sam into handling their punishment, then neither set of parents need know. Lana didn't fear punishment as much as her parents' disappointment.
"Maybe I could punish you, Melanie, but I couldn't punish Lana. That's up to her parents --"
"Sam," Lana interrupted, "it's okay if you ... punish me ... like -- like you used to."
Taking a deep breath, Sam explained, "Girls, you know I promised never to spank either of you again --"
"It's okay, Sam. Lana knows," Melanie interjected.
He stood silently for a moment. "You told her, did you?"
"Yes -- and she told me."
"Well. That's nice." Sam's eyes narrowed. "You swore me to secrecy, but you told each other. That's very nice."
Melanie and Lana exchanged worried glances -- maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. But they had more important things on their minds then. "Please, Sam. I really don't want my parents to know about this. And we'll never do it again. Can't you punish us? Please?" Lana begged.
The pleading and puppydog eyes broke Sam's resistance. "All right," he capitulated. "But you're in for the worst spanking I can give you. And, if you ever_ do _anything like this again, you're on your own. Understand?"
"I understand, Sam," Lana breathed, feeling the relief wash over her. No matter what her bottom was in for, at least she wouldn't have to face her parents. Melanie echoed her acknowledgment.
"Okay, then. Uh, maybe Darcee can watch cartoons in the den or something while I handle you two. Come on, Darcee," he said, extending his hand to the little girl.
She stood her ground, eyeing him warily. "Are you going to spank them?"
"Yes, Darcee, I am. They've been very bad girls, and they need a good spanking."
"Spank me, too!"
"WHAT?"
"I was bad, too. I need a spanking, too!"
"Darcee, you're too young to understand --"
"Stealing's wrong. I helped Lana steal. I did wrong," she stated confidently.
Sam shook his head. "Darcee, I really don't think you know what you're getting into here --"
"You better spank me, or ... or I'll tell!"
Lana found the spectacle of gigantic Sam faced down by tiny Darcee almost ludicrous, were it not for the little girl's threat. "Sam," Melanie interposed, "you have to spank her. Otherwise, she'll ruin things for everyone!"
"But she's so little!" Sam protested.
"It's okay, Sam. She's been spanked before," Lana said, thinking back to last summer and old man Enslow's garden.
"Yeah! I been spanked before! So you better spank me now!" Darcee demanded.
Sam sighed, lifted his face up to the heavens, and shrugged his massive shoulders. "Okay. You're all going to get spanked. And it's going to be as long, and as hard, as I want to make it. I don't want to hear any of you asking me to stop. I'll decide when it's over. Understood?"
Nods from all three girls. "All right, then." Sam took a seat on the living room sofa. "Melanie, you're first. Come here."
The girl crossed the room to her brother's right side. He lifted her across his lap, pulling her close against his stomach, raised her skirt, and lowered her panties to just below the curvature of her rump. Melanie squirmed a bit as her panties came down, but didn't protest otherwise. Both she and Lana knew their offense fully merited a bare-bottomed spanking.
"You're next, Lana." She quickly found herself upended alongside her friend, skirt up and panties down. "Now you, Darcee."
"Spank me bare, too!" Darcee said as she approached Sam.
"That was the plan, Darcee," Sam replied as he positioned the little girl. Sam's legs were just long enough to accommodate all three miscreants.
When Sam finished taking down Darcee's panties, he took a moment to survey the six naked cheeks arranged over his knee. "All of you remember, keep your hands in front of you," he instructed the girls. "And think about why this is happening."
SMACK! "OWWWW!" Melanie absorbed the first blow. Seconds later, SMACK! "OOOOO!" Lana's buttocks received a stinging swat. A bit longer hesitation, then, Smack! Darcee squealed as her turn came. From the sound, Lana knew Sam hadn't spanked Darcee as hard as her or Melanie; but, judging from her reaction, she didn't need hard spanks to get the same results.
SMACK! Lana howled as she again felt the impact of Sam's huge palm. SMACK! A similar outcry from Melanie. Then, SMACK! Melanie got it again, followed by SMACK! Lana and Smack! Darcee.
As Sam continued that pattern, Lana realized his plan. Not only was Sam spanking Melanie and Lana harder than Darcee, he was giving them twice as many swats. Either Darcee's arithmetic wasn't good enough for her to figure out what was going on, or she was in too much pain; either way, she didn't complain. And Lana figured she was in no position to argue!
Indeed, all Lana (and Melanie ... and Darcee, for that matter) could do was kick, wiggle, and cry, as Sam's hand continued its journey back and forth across their hindquarters. Between her swats, Lana tried to focus on the reasons behind the spanking. I did wrong! (SMACK! SMACK!) I tried to steal something! (SMACK! Smack! SMACK!) I was a bad girl! (SMACK! SMACK!) I deserve to be spanked! (SMACK! Smack! SMACK!) She hung her head and wept, knowing she'd committed a serious offense ... and was getting seriously spanked.
Finally, Sam lowered his hand. All three girls laid still across his lap, their wails fading to sobs and moans. Lana could feel her battered nates throbbing and burning. She'd remember this every time she even thought about stealing again.
"That settles the punishment for shoplifting," Sam announced. "But there's still the matter of you two telling secrets. And, Darcee, since you weren't involved, you're excused from this part of the spanking."
Before Lana could react, the assault began again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Lana's earlier agony redoubled. Not only was Sam spanking harder, he was spanking faster, too! She barely had time to react to one blow before the next came crashing down. She and Melanie were quickly reduced to two kicking, squirming, squalling little girls.
Fortunately, the second spanking didn't last very long; just long enough to reignite the smoldering embers in Lana's rump to an all-out conflagration. Sam let the girls cry themselves out, then, beginning with Darcee and working inwards, gently massaged each pair of burning nether cheeks before pulling up each child's panties and assisting her to her feet. Then he gathered them back onto his lap again. Darcee and Lana shared one leg, while Melanie occupied the other.
"I hope I never have to do anything like this again," Sam said as he hugged them tight.
"Y-you w-won't, S-s-sam," Lana choked out ... then she noticed Melanie and her brother staring in disbelief at Darcee. She looked at her young cousin. Despite the tears still streaming from her eyes, the little girl's face bore an unmistakeably blissful smile.
* * *
Christmas Day waxed clear and cold. Although a bountiful harvest awaited Lana under the tree, there was, as she feared, no Water Lily Barbie. She tried to swallow her disappointment, knowing she should be grateful for what she had.
That afternoon, Sam and Melanie came over to visit. As they gathered in the living room, Sam said, "Here, I got you girls something," and produced two brightly wrapped packages, one inscribed "To Lana" and the other "To Darcee".
"Oh, Sam, you didn't have to do that," Lana's mother said.
"That's okay, Mrs. Watson. I wanted to," Sam replied, handing Lana her present. Lana tore eagerly at the wrapping paper. What could Sam have gotten her?
The goofy grin of the ubiquitous purple dinosaur greeted her. She stared at Sam, trying to find the right words to express just how she felt at that moment.
"I know you wanted one of those Water Lily Barneys," Sam explained, "but I couldn't find one of those. I hope this one'll do instead."
That cleared up some of Lana's confusion. "Sam," she said, as gently as she could, "I didn't want a Barney_ doll. I wanted a _Barbie doll."
"Oh, ah, well, gee. I guess that would be different."
Her last hopes dashed, Lana barely fought back her tears. Could this Christmas get any worse?
"You know," Sam remarked casually, "it's entirely possible that I got the labels on those packages mixed up. Maybe this one is for you, Lana, and this one was for Darcee." He gave Lana the still-unwrapped package, took the Barney doll from her, and handed it to Darcee, who cradled it happily.
Lana held the package guardedly, not daring to open it just yet. It was about the right size, the right weight ... could it be? Could it possibly be?
Unable to contain herself, she ripped open the paper. The finely chiseled features, the long, golden hair, the soft violets and greens of the dress ... it was! A Water Lily Barbie! And it was all hers!
She looked up from her treasure to see Sam's amused grin ... an expression mirrored by Melanie ... and her parents ... and her aunt and uncle. Only little Darcee, still absorbed in her beloved Barney, seemed unaware of Lana's elation.
"We all chipped in for it," Sam explained.
"Really?" Lana still couldn't believe her good fortune. "All of you?" Every adult, and Melanie, nodded.
Lana gave up trying to control her tears. As she went around the room, exchanging hugs with all the people she loved (and who loved her), she knew she'd long remember this as her best Christmas ever.