Patricia Pealton sat, curled up on the couch in her Florida  beach-front home, with her cocker spaniel, Muffin snuggled in right  next to her. It was Autumn, with the weather in the comfortable 60s.  This was "manatee season," when the most sightings occurred. This  matter very little to most people, even Floridians. It meant a great  deal to Pat, however. She was a manatee field biologist, and keeping  the large, gray, blimp-shaped sea mammals safe was her job. Normally  she didn't get a single day off during the fall, but she had become  terribly ill after being in the chilly waters for nearly three hours  the previous day trying to free a manatee that was strangling to  death in a fisherman's carelessly discarded fishing line.

The house was quiet, even though her seventeen year old  daughter Sydney was home. She was currently grounded to her room  without television, stereo, radio, computer, or anything else  electrical. Her grades had to drastically improve before she was  allowed any of the modern conveniences back or allowed to leave the  house for any pleasurable reason.

Finally she was able to doze off…

MEANWHILE

Sydney sat on her bed, her room literally stripped of  everything but books. Even her NOVELS had been taken from her. She  stared dejectedly at her algebra book, scorn oozing off of her by the  pound. Finally, she had enough. She slipped downstairs for a snack,  or at least that was her excuse. Her real reason was to check on what  her mother was up to. To her delight, Pat was snoring them off, with  Muffin totally oblivious to the outside world as well. She didn't  know what she wanted to do, but she knew that she just HAD to get out  of the house.

Ever so quietly she tiptoed through the kitchen and through  the back door, being careful not to allow the screen door to slam.  She walked down to the water, and suddenly she knew just what she  wanted to do.

The family's boat was tied up; Sydney knew how to handle the  boat by herself. Looking once more over her shoulder, she went and  untied it, and started the motor. She got in, putting her life vest  on over her sweatshirt. Ever so slowly she pushed the boat out into  the water, and headed out. She knew she could be back within an hour,  and surely her mother would still be sound asleep then.

She planned on just taking a slow ride going up the coast to  the marine lab and back. However, she was a frustrated teenager whose  freedom had been denied, and after only five minutes had passed, she  was cranking up the speed one notch. Then another, and yet another.  Before long she was going full speed, and wasn't paying too much  attention as to where she was. She knew all the local landmarks, and  knew she could get home. She just let herself steer wherever she felt  the calling. She was totally lost in her own world, trying to forget  about her constricting mother and the plethora of subjects she had to  study.

Before long she heard the sirens from the marine police, but  as she wasn't speeding she couldn't imagine what she could be wanted  for. (It didn't even cross her mind that maybe her mother was sick  with worry and had called for someone to bring her daughter home.)  After a few minutes of continuing to boat, and continuing to listen  to the siren, she heard a voice come over the PA system.

"Would you please stop your boat's engine, and lift your  hands above your head where we can see them," came the officer's  voice.

Shakily, Sydney killed the motor and raised her hands about  her head. The official's boat glided over to her and anchored.

"Let me see your license, kid," called out the officer. With  hands that felt heavy as lead, Sydney reached into her jeans' pocket  and pulled out her wallet. She had trouble actually holding onto the  leather, but she finally managed to slip her license out. The officer  grabbed it gruffly and looked at it. Suddenly his head jerked up.

"You're Sydney! Pat's kid! Oh man, I would NOT want to be you  right now…"

"Why? What did I do officer?" she asked meekly.

"Well, gee, you were only speeding in a manatee `no wake'  zone." Sydney froze. It wasn't possible. No way!

It was crucial to the manatees survival that boaters take  heed when entering a known habitat area. The huge animals moved too  slowly to get out of the way of the boats sharp propellers and  chiseled hulls. Most manatee deaths were caused by boat collisions.  The other deaths were caused by fishermen's discarded line and too  cold of temperatures.

Sydney had grown up knowing all of this, and had grown up  respecting manatees. While she didn't have the love for them that her  mother did, she still felt they deserved a fair chance. But her  mother was going to lose it when she found out that her own daughter  had imperiled the exact endangered species her mother worked to save!  She probably would be grounded until she was twenty-one!

"Sydney, because I know your mother, and so I know you know  better than this, I won't write you up. You would be in serious  trouble if I did, and I don't think I need to impress upon you the  necessity for the speed limits. Why you did what you did is beyond  me, although I assume it has something to do with your having to  raise your grades. I will let you off, but if there is EVER a next  time, you won't be so lucky!"

Sydney breathed a HUGE sigh of relief. "Thank you SO much! If  my mother knew what I'd done I would never leave the house again!"

The officer chuckled. "Who said your mother wasn't going to  find out? I said I wouldn't write you up. Although if you were my  daughter, you wouldn't be sitting for a long time…"

Sydney was puzzled by that statement, since she had never  been spanked as a child, but didn't broach the topic. "Come on kid,  I'm going to go take you home; you follow right behind me in your  boat; don't even try to get away, because it will make things much  worse for you." Sydney didn't doubt that for a minute, and followed  the officers instructions exactly, following behind at just the right  distance so as to be considered safe, but also not considered  dawdling or escaping.

About half an hour later they arrived at Sydney's house. The  two tied up their boats, and then the officer steered Sydney around  the side of the house to the front door. She knocked, and waited.  Before long, Pat had awakened from a restless sleep and was trudging  to the front door, Muffin yapping at her heals.

When she saw her daughter cowering behind the large female  cop whom she knew went by the nickname Fly, she became livid! What on  Earth was her daughter doing not only OUT OF HER ROOM, but ESCORTED  HOME BY A COP? There was no way she was going to be free to do  anything soon.

"Fly?" she asked groggily.

"Hey, Pat. Sorry to bother you, but I know you like to know  when there are speeders in manatee zones." Pat looked at Fly with a  look of pure confusion.

"Well, yes I do, but couldn't it have waited until AFTER my  day off? And WHAT does that have to do with my daughter?" she  demanded.

"Well, it couldn't exactly wait until tomorrow, Pat, because  the speeder WAS your daughter."

"SYDNEY!?!?!?!"

"I didn't know I was in a manatee zone, Mama… I promise!" she  stammered.

"Didn't I teacher you from day one what the signs look like?"  she said crossly.

"Yes, but I didn't see them. I wasn't paying much attention,  I guess…"

"Haven't I told you to always pay attention? Sydney Francis,  get up to your room! And get used to it. You won't be leaving it much  for a LONG while." Pat waited until her daughter was up the stairs,  and then turned to Fly. "Thank you so much for bringing her home. I  promise, she'll be so bored…"

"Pat?" interrupted the cop. "If you don't mind my saying so,  it was the grounding that got her here in the first place. If she  were my daughter, I would spank her until she couldn't sit, maybe  assign her an essay on the dangers of what she did, and then forget  the whole thing."

"Fly, I don't know. When George was alive, we decided we  didn't want to spank our kids. There is so much bad hype about it…"

"Pat, all that `it will turn your kids bad' stuff is crap. We  used it on all our kids, and they turned out great! Straight A's,  great relationships with us, fewer problems… not to mention that it  was less stressful on us because we didn't have to stay home and  monitor their every move when they were grounded. You just have to do  it hard and long enough for it to hurt for awhile… none of that hand  spanking stuff on the jeans… but bare-butt, with something… whether  it is a brush, belt, wooden spoon… you name it."

"Isn't Syd too old for it, though, Fly?" asked a dubious Pat.

"Heck no! We still paddle our kids for bad grades, and two of  them are in four year universities, and one in graduate school."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope."

"And you get along okay? They don't hold it against you?"

"Not at all… oh, they did the first time or two, but  eventually they saw that they didn't have to stay home all the time…  it was over and done with, and immediately forgiven and forgotten."

"Maybe I should start… thanks Fly. Oh… when do we have to  appear in court?"

"You don't. I gave her a warning this time because I know she  knows that what she did was dumb and why. Why don't you really  consider adding the essay to the spanking? We only did that for  really bad misdemeanors, but it worked wonders!"

"I will, Fly. Thanks for going so easy on us."

"No prob, Pat. See you tomorrow!"

With that Pat took a minute to ponder the issue at hand. What  should she use? She had had one friend whose dad had used a belt on  her, but she and begrudged him for that as long as he'd lived.  Another friend of hers had gotten it with a paddle; it had worked  wonders, and she still had a great relationship with her parents.  Unfortunately Pat didn't have a paddle. Although…

With that Pat got on the phone, making plans.

MEANWHILE

Up in her room, Sydney was moping around. It had worried her  a little that her mother wasn't up to speak with her yet; normally  she was up and yelling within minutes of her initial arrival. Fifteen  minutes passed, then thirty, then an hour. At that time she heard  Muffin yapping like crazy, and her mother opening the door and  greeting someone. Sydney couldn't make out who it was, and despite  her consuming curiosity, she kept to her room.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Sydney her  mother's footsteps on the stairs. It felt as if the Grim Reaper was  coming to get her; Sydney knew she had messed up big time. Soon her  mother knocked. "Come in," Sydney forced out.

"Hey, kiddo," replied Pat. Sydney noticed that her mother was  carrying a cloth bag, and couldn't help but wonder what was in it.

"We need to have a little `discussion' about what you did  today," Pat stated simply. Sydney merely nodded. "Why did you do it,  Syd?" she asked gently.

"I told you, I didn't see the sign!" she said miserably.

"That's not what I meant. I meant why did you feel you needed  to leave in the first place? Did you feel I was being too hard on you  about your grades?"

Sydney just nodded. "I know they were too low, but they  weren't THAT bad… I didn't think I should have to give up ALL  privileges! Or at least all the time…" Sydney was beginning to cry,  as her pent up feelings were finally being let out.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I take responsibility for that. But you  could have come and talked me rationally. Made your point. Instead,  you stole the boat when I was asleep when you knew you were upset,  and thus made the mistake of speeding in the manatee zone. You are  lucky you didn't hit one, this time of year!"

" know…" Sydney sighed resignedly.

"I think we can work something out with your studying, okay?  If you work hard all day, then you can have half hour breaks every  two hours, and have evenings off. How does that sound? More fair?"

Sydney couldn't believe this! She was getting a lighter  sentence than the one she had had originally, and she had broken the  law! Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all! However, Pat saw  Sydney coming to that conclusion.

"Don't think you're getting off easy, Syd; that was dealing  with the grades. We still need to deal with what you did. And we're  going to do it a different way… a way your father and I hadn't wanted  to use, but I was recently convinced isn't so bad. Especially since  you will no longer be grounded if it works out."

Sydney perked up at this, still not understanding what was in  store for her.

With that, Pat reached down into her bag, and pulled out an  old, worn paddle. Sydney's eyes opened wide at the sight of 16 inches  by 6 inches of hard wood spanking surface.

"This was your Great Uncle Tim's; he was a principal a long  time ago, and was allowed to keep his old paddle when the no-corporal  punishment law was instated.

"What… what exactly are you going to do?" stammered Sydney.

"Well, I think you KNOW what I'm going to do with it, but  I'll tell you anyway. I'm going to spank your bare bottom with it.  And not only today; anytime AFTER today you mess up, we'll be coming  up here to take care of it this way. INCLUDING your grades. Your old  punishment for them stands; it was made before I started doing this.  But after today, anything will result in a sore bottom."

Sydney was too stunned to speak at first. "When you say BARE  bottom…"

"I mean no pants, no panties," finished Pat resolutely.

"MOTHER!" cried out a distraught Sydney. "You just can't!"

"I most certainly CAN, young lady, and I will. There is no  discussing it." With that, Pat marched over to her daughter's bed and  piled up three pillows on the left side of the bed.

"I want you out of your jeans this instant," Pat commanded.  Sydney looked on defiantly. "DO NOT make me do it for you. If you  will do it yourself, I won't pull down your panties until your bent  over. It will provide you a LITTLE modesty. You are about to lose  that privilege, however."

Sydney helplessly searched the room for some hero to save the  day, but finally she SLOWLY unbuttoned the top fastener, SLOWLY  unzipped them, and finally pushed them off of her legs. Her mother  nodded her approval.

"N-now what?" Sydney stammered.

"I want you to bend over those pillows, and hold onto the  other side of the bed," he mother instructed firmly but kindly. On  unsteady legs, Sydney made her way over to the bed.

What would it feel like? Secretly, as a young girl, she had  wondered, but had never voiced that thought. It had been too  embarrassing for her. Now it appeared that she would find out, like  it or not.

"Okay, Sydney. While this paddle is meant to hurt, it's  intended to hurt just the meaty portion of your body which can handle  it. It IS NOT intended to strike small, bony surfaces such as a hand.  It would be detrimental to your health if you reached back and I  could stop swinging the paddle in time. So I have to set up a rule  that you NEVER reach back, even if you don't cover up. If you do, you  will get an extra swat. Now, what you did is so serious… It deserves  probably one of the worst punishments a girl your age can endure  safely, which your Uncle Tim explained." At this Sydney gave a small  whimper. "Don't worry, Syd, I know this is your first spanking," her  mother placated. "Normally I would give you twenty good hard swats  with this paddle, but I'm only going to give you fifteen. It may not  seem like I'm doing you any favors, but please believe me,  sweetheart, I am. And I'm sure that when you get to fifteen swats,  you'll understand what a difference five fewer can make."

Sydney just whimpered again, a little more softly this  time. "I'm going to slip your panties down now, honey, okay?"

Pat didn't give her precocious teen a chance to respond; she  just slipped two fingers in the waistline of her daughter's skimpy  magenta panties and pulled them down to her knees.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently. After a moment's  hesitation, Sydney nodded. "Good. The sooner we get this over with  the better, hmm?"

With that, Pat hefted the paddle again, and swung it through  the air once, WHOOSH, twice, WHOOSH, thrice, WHOOSH, getting a feel  for its weight. Each time the wood sliced through the air Sydney gave  a small start. Finally, Pat felt she was ready to do this. She  reached behind her, and landed a hearty POP right above Sydney's  right sit spot.

The young woman let out a cry as she felt the fire slowly  build in the one rectangular area. Suddenly she heard another loud  POP, and felt the hard wood make contact above her left sit spot. A  few seconds later the pain registered, and she let out another cry,  this one being a little louder. To her disgust, swat three, which  landed directly below swat one, brought the first tears to her eyes.  Still, she was determined not to each back. CRACK when the paddle a  fourth time, landing directly below the second swat, right on the  tender left sit spot. She yelped, and gripped the comforter tightly  in her hands in order to prevent herself from reaching back.

The fifth swat landed on her upper right thigh. Her eyes  popped open, and her grasp loosened. "Noooo… Mommy, please!" she  cried out. Her mother grinned; she hadn't been called "Mommy" in  years now. She decided to show that such tactics wouldn't work to  deter her, so she immediately released the paddle CRACK onto Sydney's  upper left thigh.

Sydney still hadn't composed herself from before. Her right  hand started to travel back to her rear end. The second she realized  what she'd done, she jerked it back, but it was too late. Her mother  wasn't going to go soft on her daughter now!

"Sydney, I'm surprised at you! That was only the sixth swat!  Now we still have TEN MORE to go…"

"No, Mommy, please! You didn't give me time…"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I really am. I hate doing this to you.  But darn it, I can't let you get by with it; you have to know that  you can't do it no matter what. Now, are you ready?"

Sydney took a shuddery breath, trying to hold back her  sobs. "Y-yes," she finally managed to say. Pat then landed a hard  blow right on top of the first stroke, just above Syd's sit spot.  This broke Sydney's dam. The tears came out in shaky sobs, but she  had her fists clenched so tightly in the comforter her knuckles were  white.

Pat resolved herself not to let her daughter's tears get to  her, at least not during the punishment itself. She instead just let  loose another swat on top of the second swat.

"Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" wailed Sydney, but her mother kept  going. Next came one swat on top of each sit spot, which elicited  even higher pitched wails. Never had young Sydney felt such pain. She  certainly would never steal the boat again; nor would she ever fail  to pay attention to manatee zone signs.

Next came a swat to each upper thigh. At the second one,  Sydney nearly reached back again, but she caught herself before she  had actually reached anywhere; her hand had simply risen from the  comforter. Pat's keen eye had not failed to notice this, but she knew  her daughter had carefully kept herself in check, and pretended not  to notice this time.

Then she made the rounds again. First the two spots above the  tender sit spot, and then the two sit spots. By this time Sydney was  sobbing incoherencies along the lines of "I'm so sorry Mommy… please  stop… I'll be good…" But the young woman still had three more swats  to go.

Pat gave the swat to her right thigh, and Sydney was broken.  Pat's resolve was weakening, and so were her swats. The second to the  last one was nowhere near as hard as the first one, but it didn't  have to be. It still hurt considerably.

Still, Pat was determined to make her daughter realize how  serious she was about not reaching back. "Sydney?" she asked.

"Yes?" came a muffled and sniffly reply.

"Okay. Now we would have been done, but now we have one last  one to go, and I intend to make this one really hurt, okay?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but instead just landed the  paddle on final one as hard as she could full across her daughter's  backside, covering both cheeks. "OWIE!" cried Sydney loudly, and then  she just sobbed for all she was worth.

Her mother came, set the paddle down on the bed, and sat down  beside her distraught daughter. She rubbed her back, and whispered  soothingly into her ear. "I love you sweetie," she said.

"I love you, Mom," Sydney finally replied. "I'm sorry I've  been so horrible lately. You must really hate me."

"Why on Earth would you say that? I love you more than life  itself. True, I was extremely angry, but you are forgiven now. Well,  except for one small thing."

"Oh no!" moaned Sydney. "I knew I'd still be grounded or  something."

"You aren't grounded. I just want you to write me something  on how what you did was stupid."

"What part?" Sydney asked.

"Whatever you decide should be included. Take your time on  it; I don't need to see it until tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay," sighed Sydney.

"And when you feel like coming down, maybe the two of us can  sit and watch a little television together while drinking a little  hot cocoa. How does that sound?"

"Really? You'd want to be around me?"

"Of course. You're my daughter and I love being with you."

"Thanks, Mom," Sydney replied gratefully. "I'll be down a  little later."

Pat left then, a lot more pleased with how things seemed to  be going with her daughter. Sydney stayed where she was for a while,  pondering what had just happened. She finally came to the decision  that this was what she needed, and that she was going to want to be  around her mom a lot more now. Finally, about fifteen minutes later,  she went down to begin her new life.

– The End –

Copyright © 2002 Christy. All rights reserved. No repost permitted without the author’s consent.

This story was written by Christy, who kindly allowed me to host it on my web site. Please note that my usual disclaimers do not necessarily apply to this story, as it was not written by myself.