written by Ashley Michaels

series created by Ashley Michaels and Haley Brimley

One of the Randolphs’ cardinal rules was that the children come home directly from school and do their homework and chores before socializing with friends or watching TV. However, Peter chafed under this ‘ridiculous’ rule. So it was that one day, soon before Laura’s fifteenth birthday, that Peter, who had just turned eleven with her twin sister, did not return from school. Peter and Wendy often walked home from school together but when only Wendy came through the front door, nearly an hour late, Laura sensed trouble... for her. Wendy’s bad mood didn’t help any.

“Whh.... where’s Peter” Laura asked nervously.

“Who knows?” was the callous response. “I waited forever for the creep and even went back into the school. I had to walk all the way back by myself. I could have at least walked part of the way with Ginny Mason if I’d known.”

Laura feared that further questions that seemed to indicate concern for Peter’s safety would only irritate the younger girl and that was the last thing Laura needed. Still she had to make the attempt. Maybe if she at least tried her best to find the errant lad, her parents wouldn’t punish her so hard.

“Please... Wendy... that wasn’t nice of him to do that, a... and I’ll tell him so. B... but do you have any idea where he might be. P... please Wendy. Any idea?”

“Dead, I hope.”

Laura gasped. “Oh, Wendy, no! You must never say something like that even if you’re angry at him. He’s your brother. You must love each other.”

Wendy was about to curse him out again when it suddenly struck her. Here was her older sister, sure to get a spanking for not looking after her little brother, and him the sole cause of it, she still being the ‘goody-goody.’

Wendy cast a smirk at her older sister. “Is that what you’re going to be feeling for him when you’re over Mom’s lap getting your butt whacked with that hairbrush? You tell me that you’re going to still love him even though he’s getting you spanked.”

Laura crimsoned at the mention of her humiliating form of correction. Of course, Peter and Wendy knew. They’d both seen her get it... at least on her panties. Wendy, on several occasions, even had had her get it bare. And then there was all the corner time that she served, skirt up, panties often down; her bedroom door not quite closed, sometimes even in the living room. And how many times did the subject of her discipline come up at the dinner table, especially when she was seated red eyed, squirming... red faced.

And what about the time, just a few weeks earlier, when Laura, appetite suppressed by anxiety over a promised spanking that evening, asked to be excused from the table. “Yes, dear” her mother had told her, “you may go back to your room. Let me know when you finish your homework and are ready for your spanking.” At this announcement, Peter and Wendy started to giggle. Laura’s face had flushed hotly and she’d bitten her lip really hard to keep from crying right then and there.

“I..... I uh.... don’t know Wendy,” Laura said, almost in a whisper. “I’m scared Wendy. Mom’s going to be so angry. What am I going to do?”

Wendy felt bad for her older sister and now doubly annoyed with her twin brother. She went over and hugged Laura. “I’m really sorry, Sis. I wish I could help you.”

“Thanks,” replied Laura, grateful for the kind thoughts. “I guess I’ll just have to deal with it. Uhh.... I guess you should go do your homework.”

At four thirty came the phone call from her mother that Laura feared. The conversation was brief, and on her mother’s part, icy. Her last words were, “very well, young lady, I’ll teach you something about responsibility when I get home. And I think your father may want to reinforce the message.” As she hung up the phone, Laura began to cry. She was going to be spanked for sure and for something that wasn’t her fault. Wendy was right. She didn’t feel love... for Peter... or her parents. She felt angry and frustrated at the injustice of it all. She couldn’t make any sense of it. How did spanking her make Peter and Wendy behave better? It didn’t and all that happened was that they got her into more trouble and she got spanked again... and again... and again.

Laura’s mother and Peter arrived home together. Peter had called his mother at the country club to pick him up at this friend’s house on her way home. This was after her call to Laura. On the way home, she had questioned him as to why he had not gone straight home.

“Oh!” he replied, “I’d asked Laura if it was OK if I did my homework and studying with Gregory. We have a big test tomorrow and it’s a lot of memorization.” Mrs. Randolph was silent. “Uh... Mom.... Did I do something wrong?” Peter asked, all innocence.

“Well, Peter,” she said not unkindly, “you should have asked me or Daddy. Your sister is responsible to help look after you but she has no authority to change the rules.”

“Oh, I see. Gee, mom, I’m really sorry,” Peter said, smirking inwardly at his own pretense of remorse. What ever annoyance his mother had toward him was sure to be redirected elsewhere.

“That’s all right Peter,” she said soothingly. “As long as you understand what you did wrong and know not to do it again, it’s over and forgotten.”

‘Bingo’ Peter thought to himself, ‘I’m home free’.

Then the other shoe fell. “Your sister on the other hand,” Mrs. Randolph remarked stonily, “is quite another matter. I’ve never seen such impudence and irresponsibility. First she lets you break the family rules and then, to cover it up, she lies to me. When I get home, she is going to be one very sorry young lady!”

Sitting in the back, a twinge of guilt poked at him but Peter forced it out. He didn’t feel guilty, he told himself. Laura was a big girl. She could handle a spanking. It would do her good.... isn’t that what Mom and Daddy usually said. Okay, maybe she didn’t deserve it this time. But what about all the times she did things for which she should have been spanked and got away with it? Peter even thought about egging his mother on, but quickly realized that it would be quite unnecessary.

When Mrs. Randolph and Peter arrived home, Laura rushed in from the kitchen. “Peter”, she said as crossly as she dared. “Where have you been? I’ve been wo.....”

Mrs. Randolph stepped forward, glared at her daughter and then angrily slapped the girl full in the face. “Don’t you dare!” she hissed. The wicked sounding crack that accompanied the slap sent chills down every spine in the room. The poor girl, deafened by the unexpected blow, could only stand there in total confusion as large tears welled up in her soft brown eyes. Laura wanted to comfort her stinging skin but feared such a gesture would further provoke her mother. The point became moot, as seemingly much calmer, Mrs. Randolph menacingly raised her right hand and forcefully slapped the girl’s right cheek again. The vigor of the blow caused the girl’s head to shake in the air and tears to stream down her flushed face. The imprint of the mother’s hand was firmly imprinted on Laura’s tender cheek.

In the midst of her anguish and terror, Laura suddenly blurted out, “Please.... Mommy... dinner is almost ready. I just have to....”

“Oh,” replied Mrs. Randolph coldly, “you won’t need to worry about dinner tonight. You’re going to bed without dinner!”

Laura didn’t feel at all hungry at the moment but she knew what would happen later. She’d wake up in the middle of the night and the emptiness in her stomach would gnaw at her until breakfast the next day. Even more chilling was the likelihood that she’d be sent to bed quite early, not before her spanking to be sure, but well before nightfall. And she’d have to remain in bed until the next morning, and only when her mother came to release her. It was only six o’clock now. She would face a long lonely and hungry night with nothing but her tears to comfort her.

Laura was screwing up the courage to plead for reconsideration of the “no dinner, early to bed” penalty, when Mrs. Randolph ordered Laura to “get upstairs and wait for me.” The fearful girl turned and practically ran up the stairs.

Mrs. Randolph turned to the two younger children. “Please don’t be too upset. Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with that girl. Here, we took her into our home and this is how she repays us. Well, that’s not your problem. Here I’ll set out dinner for you two.”

Wendy cast a puzzled look at her mother. “Aren’t we going to wait for Daddy? And, aren’t you going to eat with us?”

Mrs. Randolph smiled warmly. “Daddy called to say he’d be a bit late. And, of course, I’d love to eat with you sweetie but I have to go spank your sister now.”

“Oh,” said Wendy, a sad, thoughtful expression covering her youthful face. As he listened to the sound of Mrs. Randolph’s heels clicking up the staircase, Peter looked over at his twin sister and noticed her dejected position.

“Hey, Wendy, you look like you just lost your best friend,” he said, trying to cheer her up.

Wendy looked up at her sibling. “What did you tell mom?” she asked.

Far from evading the truth, Peter quite proudly described how he had misdirected their Mother’s wrath to Laura. He seemed so pleased with himself.

Wendy wanted to feel angry at him but she couldn’t. She was in too deep. Her story that she had spent an hour looking for him was also a lie. She had indeed gone and hung out with Ginny Mason and some cute eighth grade boys. She and Peter were covering for each other. She took a deep breath and tried to explain her droopy mood.

“We both know what Mom’s gonna do to her.” She paused while she watched her brother’s eyebrows rise high onto his forehead.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know. She’s going to spank her. And when Dad comes home he’s going to spank her again.”

“Peter, how could we?” Wendy asked, her eyes moist.

Peter felt his earlier stoicism slipping. “Look, Wendy. I don’t want Laura to get a spanking any more than you do. But sometimes it’s the only way for us to get some freedom around here.”

A moment later, the sound of a sharp smack punctuated the otherwise quiet kitchen. Ten or fifteen seconds passed and there was another smack.... another lengthy pause.... and another smack. Both adolescents cast an apprehensive gaze in the direction of the noise. Each smacking sound was being answered by a shrill, high-pitched shriek. Soon the cadence changed to by a loud, mournful wail. Peter shrugged; Wendy bit down on her lower lip.

–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–

The moment Mrs. Randolph entered Laura’s room, the girl unsteadily rose to her feet. She met her mother’s grim stare, swallowing thickly.

“Please... Mommy,” the girl began haltingly. “I’m sorry I didn’t know where Peter was. It was...” But Laura’s shaky voice ran down when she saw the unyielding expression in her mother’s eyes and the all-too-familiar heavy red maple hairbrush tapping against her left hand.

A harsh, tense silence invaded the room. Mrs. Randolph silently advanced on her daughter, taking a firm grip on her arm and moving them both to the side of Laura’s tiny bed. The woman settled herself on the side of the mattress. Laura’s young heart began to pound in her chest. Instinctively, the young girl covered her behind with her free hand.

“I’m sorry, Mommy.... Please.... I’m so sorry,” the girl whimpered as the woman transferred her slender quaking form across her lap. “Oh, please... Mommy....” Laura gently pleaded. “Please don’t spank me! Please... I’ll be a good girl..... I promise!”

“Oh, I’ve heard that one before, Laura,” Mrs. Randolph retorted.

Laura felt the back of her skirt being lifted and flipped over onto her back.

“Now, hands behind your back this instant!”

Laura moaned but her hands shot back and her wrists crossed in the small of her back. Grasping the crossed wrists with her left hand, Mrs. Randolph pressed them down into the concavity of her smooth back, just below the upturned skirt. Laura realized she was to be spanked over her panties. Past experience had taught her this was to bargain; she would probably be spanked harder. “Please.... Mommy.... please...” she moaned.

SMACK!

The first blow fell, landing full and hard in the center of Laura’s right buttock. The fiery explosion was so intense, it took the young girl’s breath away, momentarily thwarting the response she would shortly voice. And a moment later, Mrs. Randolph was gratified to hear the fruits of her labor... Laura emitted a shrill cry. A moment later Laura’s mother touched the wood to her pantied behind, rubbed it in a small circle, setting the target, and raising her arm visited another hard smack, igniting yet more fury in the tender fleshy globes. A few more followed, again in the thoughtful deliberate pattern that trademarked most of Mr. and Mrs. Randolph’s spankings. By the sixth blow, Laura was screaming in earnest.

“Oooooooohhooooooooo......... the girl sobbed, the anguish in her bottom reaching ever higher levels. “Nooooo....... oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh.... ooohhhhhh........ ppllleeeaassse....... Mommy...... PLEASE!!!” she screamed, her hips jerking hard against her mother’s lap. The girl’s trim legs kicked frantically, her body arching against the tight grip on her hands.

Laura’s spanking continued, the harsh heavy blows falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm, first on one side of the twisting turning panty covered hillocks, then crossing to address the other. The torturous cadence went on and on until, very soon, there was not a single, square inch of that shapely, pulsing bottom that had not been thoroughly assailed by the relentless wood. But, aided by Mrs. Randolph’s thoughtful pauses between blows, Laura gathered enough strength to scream out her anguish.

“OOOWWW! OWW! OWWW!” the girl screamed at each reinforcing blow. In between, she cried ragged and mournfully as her girlish form bucked and twisted on the punitive maternal lap. Now Mrs. Randolph paused and seemed to contemplate her handiwork, her eyes fixed on the shivering, tensing bottom globes before her, observing where the marks were the brightest and where the nervous reaction seemed to be the strongest. The thighs so far had been untouched.

Laura squirmed a little, trying to readjust herself, to find a more comfortable position over her mother’s lap. She turned her face back over her shoulder to regard her mother, and her eyes opened, very wide, the pupils dilated, and flooded with tears. Also, her nostrils, opening and closing rather convulsively, and her most kissable mouth trembled almost involuntarily. “Please..... ohhh.... pleeeasse Mommy..... Mommy.... please...” Laura begged, her voice now frayed and hoarse. “Please.... I’ll be good! I’ll be so good......please.... I’ll be a good girl......... I’ll obey...... I promise....... please.... Mommy...... I’ll be such a good girl.”

At, the moment she saw her mother lift the hairbrush into the air, she uttered one more “ohhh.... please.... Mommy.... Please.... I’ll be a good girl.... I’ll be a very good girl.... I promise!” and swiftly turned her face hack to the right, closed her eyes, pressing her head down as forcibly as she could against her soaked pillow, and resumed waited for the resumption of her chastisement.

The teenager’s pathetic entreaties soon resumed as sorrowful screams.

From their kitchen retreat downstairs, Wendy and Peter ate in silence, unable to escape the severely distressed cacophony now filling the upstairs of the house. The dismal sound of a hard, wooden hairbrush striking a defenseless girl-bottom brought tears to Wendy’s eyes. The boy, too, was finding it more and more difficult to remain indifferent to the suffering of his older sister.

Laura’s cries rose in pitch and intensity, evoking in Wendy memories of being witness to the older girl’s punishment. As the spanking progressed – and her sister’s distress became more pronounced – Wendy dropped her head to her chest, closing her eyes tightly as her hands balled into little fists. Even Peter was sufficiently moved that, when he observed Wendy’s eyes filled with tears, a silent gesture of compassion for her suffering sister, he reached over and squeezed her hand.

Wendy could not block the terrible sounds from upstairs. She clearly heard each sharp, fierce spank that landed on her big sister’s behind, her own senses recognizing the sound of hard, firm palm striking a young, vulnerable bottom. Even Peter could no longer steel himself to the hysterical screams and desperate crying he heard emanating from his sister. Indeed, he sorely wished for the punishment to be over as each fresh cry added to the deep remorse settling into his psyche.

But in the bedroom upstairs, Mrs. Randolph’s hairbrush continued its grim pattern. Laura’s bottom, as viewed through the thin panties, was a dark purplish-red with a noticeably brighter red pattern around the leg holes and exposed portions of buttock. Every few minutes, Mrs. Randolph would give Laura a brief rest. And, of course, what did the girl do but resume her “ohhh.... please Mommmy’s” and “p-please I’ll be a good girl....” As always it was the promises to be “a good girl” and “such a good girl” and “a really good girl” and “so... sooooo goo.... oood” that Mrs. Randolph found most heart warming and sincere.

One time when Laura had turned round to beseech her mother’s compassion, the woman gave what the girl hoped was a sympathetic smile. Laura renewed the passion of her pleas with even more fervent, if it can be imagined, promises to always be “a really, really good girl” and even “the best girl ever.” But as with all the others thus far, it ended with a sad shake of her mother’s head, a further downward push on the crossed wrists and a resumption of the brush’s rigorous pace.

There was another lengthy pause, and again the hairbrush resumed its inexorable work. This time, however, Mrs. Randloph applied the strokes to Laura’s bare thighs, two to the right, then two to the left, the first of each landing just under the base of the up swelling, trembling buttocks, and the second just above the hollow of the dimpled knee.

The crisper smack of wood meeting naked flesh was noticed by the children downstairs. Evidently Laura felt it more keenly, judging from her near hysterical screams and sobbing cries of “Oh, Mommy...... please... oh it hurts...... I... I’ll be good..... I won’t ever do it again! Ouch — oh my — oh please, I’ll be good!” and the uncontrollably feverish jerking of her hips which followed.

In answer, Mrs. Randolph’s hand pressed Laura’s entwined wrists hard against her bared back, as if to remind her that she must remain docile, and now the hairbrush began to fall with a more rapid methodical regularity. She delivered another dozen, devoting all to the girl’s bare thighs. Her body stiffened and strained against the firm maternal lap supporting her. The pretty teenager’s steady shrill screams confirmed the force and accuracy of her mother’s aim as the scathing pain exploded along the oh-so-tender flesh that would later be observed near the hem of her skirt.

And then, at last, the spanking was finished. Watching her daughter carefully, Mrs. Randolph laid the brush atop the bed and still holding the crossed wrists, allowed the firm slender fingers of her right hand to soothe the sheathed but severely swollen, clouded burgundy globes of the thoroughly punished young girl slumping over her lap. Minute after minute passed while Elaine Randolph patiently allowed the heavy sobs of the lovely dark-haired beauty to run its course. She gently stroked the twitching rear and the scorched thighs that gave vent to random spasms, made gentle shushing sounds and tried to settle the poor girl.

At one point, Laura’s body came to life as it arched above her mother’s lap but just as quickly collapsed like a rag doll, and simply lay there wracked by deep, heart wrenching sobs. The pain in her bottom and thighs dominated her senses. She had no strength of her own left, not even enough to continue her attempts to free her restricted hands, which were only lightly held at this point.

All the girl’s movements seemed to consist of an instinctive, involuntary quaking and twitching. Occasional tremors rippled down her burnished thighs and at times, thighs and buttocks seemed in the grip of frightful convulsions. The girl clearly needed comforting and what better place to offer that comfort than a warm maternal lap. Let her cry it out as much as she needed to.

Downstairs, Wendy slowly raised her head as she registered that while her sister’s crying had not noticeably diminished, the screams had stopped... and so had the crisp smacking sound. As Wendy listened to Laura’s heartfelt crying she whispered a quiet prayer or thanksgiving. Peter too, seemed relieved. Though in his zeal to justify his actions, he had actually convinced himself that Laura was being spanked for her own good, he now regretted having set her up for such an ordeal. He thought about how he could make it up to her.

It was 6:45 by Laura’s nightstand clock when Mrs. Randolph decided Laura’s crying had reached an acceptable level. Elaine released the girl’s wrist and helped the trembling teen to her feet. Her knees wobbled and her body still shook with the force of mournful sobs tumbling from her quivering lips. Without hesitation, she covered her throbbing, aching bottom with both hands, holding tightly to the scarlet mounds as her feet shuffled clumsily.

“OK, Laura, that’s enough of that,” the girl’s mother chided pulling her hands away. “You can use those hands to hold up the back of your skirt; unless, of course, you want another spanking.”

The girl tearfully shook her head from side to side and grasping the hem of her skirt, lifted it above her waist. Placing her hands on Laura’s small shoulders, Elaine Randolph continued to steady the still shaking, crying girl.

Several more minutes passed. Finally, Mrs. Randolph spoke again, drawing the girl’s attention to her face.

“Laura?” Mrs. Randolph began, waiting until her daughter’s tear-congested eyes finally met hers. “From now on, you will obey the family rules and you will not lie to your parents, is that clear? If Peter, or Wendy for that matter, ask you if they can go to a friend before you’ve seen that their schoolwork is done, you tell them they must ask either your father or me. And, if you do misbehave, you make sure to tell me or your father exactly what you did. If you ever lie to me again, the way you did today, you can expect to be spanked every bit as hard as you just were, and much, much worse.”

Still in the throes of her agony, Laura was able to realize why she had been punished so hard. She wanted so badly to tell her mother what had really happened but feared that its only result would be return trip across the woman’s lap. Laura had experienced the terrible agony of getting a spanking, saying something foolish when it was over and then getting spanked again. The girl’s only answer was a series of heart-rendering sobs.

“Are you going to obey the rules, Laura?” A still crying nod. “And are you ever going to lie to your parents again?” Laura shook her head.

“That’s not good enough Laura! Say it!”

“Please... Mommy... I won’t l...lie to you or Daddy... ever...”

Mrs. Randolph did not believe in comforting Laura immediately after a spanking. She believed that was part of the punishment process, giving the errant girl time to think about her actions and the sore bottom they had earned her. Helping Laura settle down after a particularly severe spanking was an act of triage. She didn’t want the girl going off the deep end. So, Mrs. Randolph told Laura she was to be in bed with the lights out in fifteen minutes unless she wanted another spanking. With that, her mother left the room.

As Laura prepared for bed she heard her father return. There was conversation downstairs but she couldn’t make it out. When she was all washed up, she crawled into her bed. Her only prayer was that her punishment be finished for the night and that she just be allowed to cry herself to sleep.

Laura was asleep on her left side when the two adults walked in to check on her. The woman pulled back the sheet and they both examined the back of the girl’s thighs where her nightie had ridden up. The man nodded approvingly and they exchanged smiles. Emerging from her sleep to the haze of half-sleep, the girl now heard the whispered voices.

Proper manners had taught her that she should turn over and greet her Daddy. But, if she pretended to be sound asleep, they might take pity on her and postpone any further correction. Indeed, it was that very concept that the parents were discussing. They were talking quietly so she was only able to catch phrases. From the phrases..... “did she cry a lot”...... “over her panties”....... “no supper”....... “in bed and lights out by seven-thirty” Laura realized that her parents were appraising her ‘need’ for further punishment. To her surprise, it was her mother who seemed more conciliatory.

There was some more discussion that Laura could not make out. It wouldn’t be necessary. The light in the room snapped on and Laura knew she could no longer pretend to be asleep. Her eyes opened. “Hi.... uh... Daddy,” she said, trying to sound groggy lest her parents guess her attempted deception. Then spotting the strap dangling from his right hand she gasped an “Oh!”

She looked up at him with wet pleading eyes. His face a mask; he just pointed.

Laura gulped down a loud sniffle and turned over. The strap felt momentarily cool on the back of her naked thigh.

– The End –

This story does not necessarily represent the authors’ point of view about anything. It is simply a work of fiction. The characters herein portrayed are invented and do not resemble reality to the best of the authors’ knowledge. This account is entirely fictitious. Any similarities to other persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

This story is written for the sane amusement of adult readers. It does not intend harm and does not promote violence of any kind, including spanking. No offence is meant to any group, ethnicity or individuals.

The authors do not necessarily endorse the non-consensual disciplinary spanking of actual children and/or teenagers.

Copyright © 2004 Haley Brimley, Ashley Michaels. Contact for information and/or feedback.