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原文地址：
https://www.asstr.org/files//Authors/HaleyBrimley/www/save/bigsister/1life.htm
1. "Life is Fair"
(F/f nc very hard, voy)
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written by Ashley Michaels and Haley Brimley
When Edward Randolph married his wife, Elaine, she was already in her early thirties. Their early attempts to have children were unsuccessful so when Elaine was thirty-five they adopted a three year old girl from an orphanage in Romania. They renamed the girl Laura and brought her back to the US. Shortly thereafter, Elaine became pregnant and one week before Laura’s fourth birthday gave birth to a set of twins. That event signaled a rather abrupt end to the Randolph’s doting on the adopted little girl.
Edward Randolph’s pursued a high-powered professional career as a corporate attorney. His wife, Elaine, pursued an active social life with the country club set. When the children were younger, a nanny took care of them but when Laura turned twelve, the hired caretaker was no longer deemed necessary. It then became Laura’s task to see that Wendy and Peter not only were safe and cared for, but also did their homework and chores. It was a responsibility that the precocious pre-teen took most seriously.
No doubt this display of responsibility was aided by the Randolph's disciplinary techniques, most specifically their use of spanking. For the older girl this meant double jeopardy as she was held responsible for the actions of her siblings as well as her own. And while the Randolph’s seemed to have precious little time for supervising their children, they nonetheless made the time to implement a formalized punishment ritual that extended and enhanced the actual spanking experience for the girl.
When only the older girl fell from grace, the spanking was a relatively private affair. After Elaine’s pronouncement of the sentence, Laura would usually be sent to the maternal bedroom to prepare for her spanking. This meant fetching a straight-backed chair, placing it prominently in the center of the bedroom, and procuring any requested aids such as a hairbrush or slipper. Sometimes she’d be directed to "present herself for punishment". This latter procedure involved Laura neatly lifting her dress and slip well above her waist and kneeling on the chair seat. The door was to remain wide open and if either of Laura’s siblings was free to observe the panty covered behind and listen to the soft sniffles of their anxious older sister. Once Mrs. Randolph entered the room, the younger children were obligated to leave and close the bedroom door. Mrs. Randolph considered it inappropriate for Wendy and Peter to watch their older sister receive a spanking, unless they were somehow connected. As we shall soon see that was more often the case.
Though Wendy and Peter loved their older sister, they often resented her ‘goody-goodiness’. After all it was Laura’s insistence on following all of their parent’s rules that interfered with their hanging out with friends, watching TV and having fun. Laura didn’t seem to care about friends, so to Wendy and Peter, it was no big sacrifice on her part. But why did she have to ruin ‘their’ lives. Thus, it was that when Laura was to be spanked because of her own failings, Peter regarded it as poetic justice. When the maternal hand or hairbrush began to fall against the surface of her older sister’s panties or bare skin, the boy would feel oddly gratified. It was his revenge upon Laura for all the times he missed being with his friends.
Wendy, though generally more sympathetic to the plight of her older sister, was also prone to fits of jealousy. This was often precipitated by visitors or strangers complimenting Laura’s attractiveness or maturity. Report card time was another catalyst for such inward rage. Laura, studied very hard and consistently received A’s and B’s. Wendy was less diligent and her grades were typically in the ‘C’ range. Finally, when Wendy reached puberty, she began to see Laura as more of a peer… and a rival who, every now and then, needed to be taken down a peg. And, it was so easy to set Laura up for a spanking.
On such occasions, Peter or Wendy, wanting to hear their sister ‘get it’, but nervous about being caught, would strategically place themselves by their bedroom door. Though Mrs. Randolph closed the door to Laura’s room, she never seemed to do it all the way. So, with a bit of effort, the younger children could hear every word of their mother’s crisp ominous lecture and distinguish the first strains of Laura’s sniffling sobs and tremulous "yes Mommy’s", "no Mommy’s" and "I’ m sorry Mommy’s".
If Laura’s offense merited use of the hairbrush then Peter and Wendy would be further rewarded by a series of shrill screams sandwiched around a symphony of sustained loud crying and pleas of "nnooo… Mommy………. please… I’ll be g… good…" or "please… Mommy… not so hard…. I’ll work harder". Indeed, depending on the offense, Laura would repeatedly sob out promises to "do her chores better", "study harder", "take better care of her clothes."
These were always supplemented with the generic "please… Mommy…. I’ll be a good girl." Peter found these pleas rather amusing since his problem with Laura was that she was such a good girl. To his thinking, Laura’s punishments usually had little to do with her not being a good girl. Forgetful, yes; irresponsible sometimes but a ‘bad’ girl… never!
Often, upon completion of the spanking, Laura, red bottomed and crying, would spend an additional thirty minutes in the corner, penitently holding up her skirt and slip in back. Despite her tender years, Laura was mature enough to understand and accept that these spankings, for her own personal shortcomings, were necessary. Even while the tears and the smarting effects of a recent spanking were still fresh she seldom expressed resentment about such treatment. On the contrary, and to the exasperation of her high-spirited younger siblings, Laura would actually defend the propriety of their parent’s strict rules.
On her own, Laura might earn a spanking several times a month. Thanks to her younger siblings, she was frequently spanked twice or even three times in a week. Often, the offending sibling would suffer a stern lecture and even be sent to his or her room. Laura too would be lectured, but that was usually just preliminary to being turned over the parental lap and spanked for ‘laziness’ or ‘irresponsibility’. This disparity of treatment was, of course, not lost upon Laura. But, she quickly learned that attempts to debate this issue were not only futile but dangerous as well.
–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–
One such occasion occurred when Mrs. Randolph called Peter and Laura on the carpet because Peter’s bedroom was a mess. "Peter, I’m very disappointed about this", Mrs. Randolph lectured. "Now you march yourself right back into that room and don’t you even think of leaving until it’s up to snuff."
"But, Mom, the guys will be calling for me…."
"I’m sorry, Peter! I believe I made myself quite clear! Now march!"
This time the boy turned and left to execute his mission.
Mrs. Randolph then turned to Laura. "I’m also quite disappointed with you too, Laura. I count on you to help me out with your younger brother. I don’t know what you were doing, instead of checking on his room, nor do I much care. The bottom line is that you didn’t take care of what I needed you to take care of." These words were said with a tone of sadness.
"I’m very sorry, Mommy", said Laura, feeling a twinge of guilt.
"I can’t have that Laura", the woman observed. Then, her eyes narrowing, Mrs. Randolph stiffened noticeably. "I said I can’t have that Laura…. And I won’t have it! You are going to be punished! Go to your room and wait for me!"
Laura now knew she was in for a spanking, but something, other than fear, was bothering her. Her legs froze in place and her mother looked at her as though she were directly challenging his authority. The look scared her, but still the injustice of it all was too much to bear.
"Please………… Mom. It’s so unfair. Peter’s supposed to clean his room and I’m the one getting punished. That’s just so un……"
Her mother’s icy stare made her close her mouth as quickly as she opened it. What had she gotten herself into?
"So, Laura, you’re presupposing to tell me how to raise children, are you. We’ve been through this before so I may not explain it as patiently as I did the last time. You’re fourteen years old and I don’t think it unreasonable to expect more from you. I expect you to be a mature and responsible young lady. When you are, I treat you as such." Mrs. Randolph paused here for effect. Arching her eyebrows, she continued, "And when you are not; when you act immature and irresponsible, then you are also treated as such. Act like an immature little girl and you’ll get punished like a little girl."
Laura turned red. Her mother had completely ignored the real issue. Still, observing her mother’s increasingly sterner countenance, she immediately regretted provoking the woman, as she sensed that she would likely pay for that later.
"Please….. Mom…… I'm sorry."
"For what?" her mother remarked dryly. "Being irresponsible or for arguing with me about your punishment? You’re going to be spanked for both, you know."
Tears sprung to Laura’s eyes, and she decided it would be prudent to comply with her mother’s instructions like she should have in the first place. So she turned and trudged up the stairs reluctantly. She thought again of how unfair it all was and the ‘discussion’ that she’d just had. All she’d accomplished was t
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o earn herself another spanking.
She waited upstairs and pouted. She knew she was right. She still wanted to argue… but to what avail?
A few minutes later, Mrs. Randolph entered Laura’s room carrying a large, wooden hairbrush. Laura paled when she saw it. Mrs. Randolph was all business now. Approaching the foot of Laura’s twin bed, Mrs. Randolph sat down heavily. "Now Laura", she intoned flatly, "which spanking do you want first; irresponsibility or arguing?"
Laura suspected that one of the spankings would be by hand and the other with the brush but she wasn’t sure. She figured however that ‘arguing’ sounded too much like disrespect and that she knew was very serious. She drew a deep breath and opting for what she hoped would be the less rigorous of her chastisements, she drew in a deep breath and carefully weighed the right words to use for her response. "Please…. Mommy…… h… help me to be uhhhhhh….. m…. more responsible….."
Elaine was pleased by the words and tone of her daughter’s ‘request’. For the first time, her features softened and the hairbrush was conspicuously placed on the bed. A small smile played upon her lips. "Very well Laura," she nodded. "Pull down your panties."
The girl flushed deeply and uttered a low moan but her hands quickly disappeared beneath her dress. When the panties were at Laura’s knees, her mother guided the trembling teen over her lap. She raised the back of Laura’s dress, baring her bottom.
She ran her hand over the surface as if appraising the contours and appraising strategy. "How old are you Laura?" Mrs. Randolph said, asking a question that often accompanied a punishment for ‘immaturity’.
"I… I’m f… fourteen Mom," Laura answered with a quivering voice.
"That’s not how you’ve been acting. Let’s see if this helps. What’s fourteen times two?"
"It’s….… twenty eight, Mom."
Laura’s mother nodded her approval. Her left arm curved round the girl’s back and firmly pulled her closer. The right hand went up in the air and came down with a resounding smack on the surface of her daughter’s right buttock. It flamed instantly. The sounds continued at steady ten second intervals, until the prescribed twenty eight smacks were administered. Laura lay there, like a good girl, crying quietly while the spanking was being administered.
Mrs. Randolph’s harsh slender hand steadily reddened the tender surface of the girl’s naked buttocks. Sweet tears flowed like rivers, but Laura didn’t cry out. For even as her bottom erupted in flames, Laura was determined not to ‘carry on’, but to take her punishment with ‘maturity’. There would be no shrieking or loud crying; just soft steady ladylike weeping. That, she knew, would not be the case during her upcoming appointment with the hairbrush.
And facts proved her right. When her mother’s hand had stopped spanking, Laura had restrained herself from the desperate need to rub. She rested her face on one side and looked at the wall through blurred eyes, the bed sheets soaked with her warm tears as her pillow. Everything seemed and felt warm, hot even, especially where it was supposed to be as hot as hell – and she knew this was nothing still. Oh how she would have enjoyed something cooler back there… but the hard, if temporary cool, wood of the heavy red maple hairbrush tapping against her nether cheeks wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. Her soft crying went up a notch when she remembered the impending hairbrush spanking that somehow she was forgetting about.
"Now, Laura," Mrs. Randolph spoke, the usual resolute, stern tone back in her voice. "Your father and I will have no daughter of ours miss her duties as an older sister… but even more than that, we won’t have her forgetting her duties towards us, young lady." She punctuated the last word with a crisp smack of the hairbrush, not severe but hard enough to get the girl’s attention.
Laura gritted her teeth and muttered a subdued ‘ow!’ when the sting was renewed. Years of experience told her this was nothing but a warning smack, though.
"How dare you even question the punishments that your father and I impart upon you, Laura Marie?"
CRACK! went the hairbrush again, and this time it was a tad harder. Laura stifled another yelp, and instead broke down in a long series of apologies. "I’m sorry Mommy, I… I just thought… but I was wrong… really wrong, please, forgive me!"
The admission of her (unjust) guilt brought more tears to her eyes than the spanking, at least thus far. As much as it was very, very common practice in the Randolphs’ household for Laura to have her bottom spanked, paddled, strapped and goodness knows what else at remarkably short intervals, after all those years it was still quite hard to get acquainted to the overall injustice of it. True, some of her spankings were indeed deserved and Laura had no-one to blame but herself… but others… so many others…
Mrs. Randolph wasn’t giving it that much thought, though. "Nonsense, girl. I thought we had straightened out your manners a long time ago," she remarked, remembering a particular harsh punishment when Laura had openly defied her parents’ instructions. To say that the spankings, and all that had come with them, had lasted from dawn till dusk would not be an understatement… but that’s another story.
Presently, Laura just had to agree with her mother’s statement not to incur her wrath any further, so she showed herself compliant by nodding her head and muttering: "Yes Mommy… I’m so sorry…" As time passed her voice sounded meeker, more like a child’s. "Please I… m-maybe I need to be re…. reminded to b… be…. Uhhhhh …….. more…. uhh… uhhh…… respectful…" She said that almost in a whisper, that didn’t go unnoticed to her attentive mother.
The woman nodded firmly, pressed her hand down hard on the small of the girl’s back, raised the large, heavy hairbrush with the other arm well above her shoulder and landed a smack of ferocious strength across both of Laura’s pink bottom cheeks, leaving a white oval imprint that soon turned dark pink.
"Yeooowww!" The girl rewarded her effort with a full-fledged scream, as her head cocked up and her legs went flailing around, making her white cotton panties slid down to her ankles.
"For Goodness’ sake, Laura, control yourself!" Mrs. Randolph scolded. She and her husband accepted crying and moderate squirming, as Laura knew very well, but such loss of the proper position was not something she tolerated.
Nor rewarded.
"I’m sorry ma’aaaahhhhm!!"
The hairbrush found its spot again and again, several very hard and very fast swats to Laura’s left cheek, then the same treatment was applied to her right one. Mrs. Randolph stopped after the brief spanking frenzy, that the girl interpreted as punishment for her ‘lack of composure’. Whatever it was, it painted an uniform red all over her prominent, well-formed nates. Laura felt a fire burning more and more fiercely in her hindquarters, and though her hands were dying to scratch and knead at the almost unbearable itch, she knew better. Again, memories of the day when she had done such a thing were branded in her mind like a tattoo, and her hands stayed glued to the bed comforter they were twisting.
It was Mrs. Randolph’s style to give different types of spanking, so that her young charge couldn’t predict where the next blow would fall, or how hard, or how soon after the previous one. But, truth be told, her husband and she much preferred to have Laura’s punishments drawn out for as long as possible. There was something extremely appraising and rewarding at the sight of the young girl writhing in crescent dismay as her agony was prolonged beyond what was commonly acknowledged (certain spankings could last a full two hours). The sight of red-bottomed Laura crying in earnest like the submissive child she was, trying not to kick her legs too much and to keep from rubbing her tush, her increasing promises to be a good, wonderful, perfect girl for herself and her siblings were just light to their eyes and music to their ears. It showed, if proof was ever needed, that the girl could benefit from the time-honored method of scalding her bottom for misbehavior. Hers or the twins’, that is. So, the slow spanking approach was favored, in the end.
And a slow, albeit very hard, hairbrush spanking was exactly what Laura got from that moment on. Mrs. Randolph raised the implement above her head and cracked it down across both cheeks, and sit-spots, and the backs of Laura’s thighs as well. She spanked from top of the buttocks down to Laura’s legs, halfway between bottom and knee hollows, knowing that some redness would show under a short dress or a pair of shorts. The woman made a mental note to command Laura to wear such for a few days, so that everyone in the neighborhood would see how discipline was still a predominant issue in her home.
Meanwhile, the fourteen-year-old had lost all of her big girl bravado and willingness to take her spanking in a ladylike way, and was bawling her heart out under the tremendous blows. She sobbed heavily as promise after promise to be a good girl fell on deaf ears and the hard brush just kept descending. It did so for several more minutes, despite the dark-red, tending to purplish bruises now forming on her flesh.
Unbeknownst to her, that was annoying the perfectionist Mrs. Randolph, who remembered something Laura’s pediatrician had said when visiting the girl after a fight in school (one Laura had been soundly strapped for, of course): "My, does this girl bruise easily!". How unfortunate that was. So, knowing the punishment was not being nearly as effective as it looked, Mrs. Randolph gathered
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all of her strength and spanked even harder, really making Laura feel sorry for whatever crime she and her siblings might have ever committed in their young lives.
But one’s downfall is someone else’s rise, and true enough, one dirty-blond, cross-armed twelve-year-old boy with a smirk on his face was nodding firmly at the sounds of the spanking coming through the closed door he was leaning against. His twin sister walking in the hallway caught his eye, blonde long hair and the cutest upturned nose. Peter raised his eyebrows and smiled. Wendy smiled back but sighed.
"What?" Peter inquired.
"Nothing, just…"
"Oh come on. I’ve seen you giggle more than once when she was getting it."
He was speaking in an undertone, but still got away from the door and approached his sister: being caught was something they both knew it was better to avoid. Their parents could talk their ears off when they were caught in a misdeed, and that was so annoying! It seemed as though they could go on talking forever, and how is one supposed to listen with Laura’s weeping in the background?
"Yeah well but I’m still sorry," Wendy shrugged. "I kinda like her, ya know."
"Aww I know, and I am sorry too," Peter said, turning serious and placing his hands on his sister’s shoulders. Then he withdrew and smiled coldly. "Sorry I don’t have a webcam in there."
"Oh Peter!" Wendy said, her mouth gaping open. She bit her tongue for speaking out too loud and lowered her voice. "I mean… alright, she’s getting her just desserts. But I know that you didn’t tidy your room on purpose."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"
Wendy rolled her eyes and mouthed: "Duh!"
"Well, I’m not that cruel…" A particularly loud wail came from the room, soon followed by a dozen crisp and fast smacks that, by the sound of it, were falling on the backs of Laura’s slightly pudgy thighs. Peter couldn’t repress a snicker. "I mean, not this time, heh. Hey, what’s wrong with you anyway, sis? Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes can use a blistering every now and… and now." Another snicker.
Wendy couldn’t help but giggle too at that, covering her mouth with a hand. She was sorry for Laura, though, because she knew all too well that ‘blistering’ wasn’t by any means an understatement. If she knew her mother’s ways, and indeed she did, in the evening she would be helping Laura put lotion on an awfully crimson bottom covered in welts and bruises.
*If* her mother or father were in such a generous mood to even allow lotion for Laura in the first place, that is.
– END OF PART ONE –
2. "Work Before Play"
(F/f nc very hard, voy – M/f implied)
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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, a
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s 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
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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.
– END OF PART TWO –
3. "Big Sister Learns Not to Push (It)"
(Ff/f nc very hard, voy, humil)
.
written by Haley Brimley
series created by Ashley Michaels and Haley Brimley
Elaine Randolph was sitting and reading a book, when she heard raised voices coming from upstairs. As she entered the room from which the shouting was emanating, she saw her fifteen year old daughter, Laura, push her younger sister Wendy hard. That was all the woman needed to see. Spinning the older girl around by the s
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houlder, she slapped her face hard.
Frightened and hurt, Laura burst into tears. Mrs. Randolph was not mollified. "Hit your little sister, will you?" she spat, "Well we’ll see about that. Put your hands down this minute!"
Laura forced her right hand to stop reaching for her damaged cheek. Instead, she watched in terror, as her mother’s hand rose again. "Please… Mommy… nooooooo!" she pleaded hysterically, but to no avail. Two slaps rocked Laura’s head left, then right, wrenching plaintive sobs from the unhappy beauty.
"Please… Mommy… I can explain…" Laura cried out.
"There is no explanation for hitting a younger child!" Laura’s mother said stonily. She reached out and grasped the girl’s earlobe. "You’re going to be one sorry, young lady, Laura Marie, when I’m done with you. Now get over to the bed. I’m going to give you a spanking you won’t soon forget." As she spoke, Mrs. Randolph jerked at the girl’s earlobe.
"Ouuuwww… Mommy… please… my ear… it hurts!" cried Laura. But anxious to keep her earlobe attached to her head, she obediently followed her mother to the bed. Only when the woman was fully seated did she release her hold. Laura clutched at her flaming ear and cheeks.
The girl had little time to comfort her damaged facial features, though. "Pull those panties down, Laura Marie!"
Glancing over at her grinning younger sister, Laura clenched her little fists as fresh tears sprang to her dilated eyes. "Please… Mommy… Please… I beg you," she faintly articulated, "please not in front of Wendy… Don’t let her watch… please Mommy. Don’t make me take my panties down in front of her. Please… Mommy… please…"
"I will say this once only, Laura Marie, and you had best pay attention to it. I’m not only going to let Wendy watch while I spank you, I’m going to let her spank you too. That will teach you not to hit younger children. Now you get those panties down unless you’d like for me to have Wendy do that too!"
That worked. The unhappy girl uttered a soft, stifled groan but reached beneath her clothes, hooked her fingers into the waistband and slowly took her panties down to her knees. Mrs. Randolph’s right hand shot out and pulled Laura over her lap. Wendy’s eyes went big as saucers. ‘Wow’, she thought to herself excitedly; ‘I’m going to see my big sister’s privates.’
But even as Wendy was thinking this, up went the back of Laura’s dress to the small of her back, leaving two very pale bottom-cheeks, bare and defenseless. Mrs. Randolph turned toward Wendy and smiled. "Do be a dear and bring me Laura’s hairbrush from her dresser."
"Sure, Mommy", the girl said enthusiastically. She wanted to see her sister spanked really hard… and she was going to get her wish.
Still dangling over her mother’s knees, Laura wasn’t sure what was more humiliating; the fact that Wendy was seeing her bare from the waist down or the knowledge that the little girl would soon have a shot at her bottom too. As if getting spanked by her mother in front of her wasn’t demeaning enough in itself.
However, all miserable thoughts were swept away from her mind as soon as she saw the all-too-eager preteen return with the dreaded instrument in her hands. Laura couldn’t help it and started to cry softly to herself. What she couldn’t know, though, was that in addition to her eagerness Wendy was also feeling a deep sense of respect. Holding that hairbrush was exciting and scary at the same time: was it this heavy? She never would have believed it, and could only imagine the great amounts of pain such a severe implement could bring to Laura’s bottom – especially her bare bottom.
"Here, Mommy," Wendy smiled at her mother as she handed the brush over.
"Why, thank you dear. Why don’t you sit here and help Mommy by holding Laura’s ankles? She has this annoying habit of kicking, sometimes."
This time it was Wendy’s turn to forget all about her thoughts. Her eyes shone as she nodded and promptly took her place at her mother’s side. While Laura’s face cheeks went crimson – and not just from the repeated slapping – her mother gathered the girl’s legs and lifted them so that her feet were resting on Wendy’s lap.
The little girl’s jaw dropped as she realized she was going to actually see a spanking, and even participate. Her mother’s promise that she would be allowed to spank Laura too had momentarily slipped from her mind. "Err… what… what do I do, Mommy?"
"Just hold her feet really tight so your sister won’t even think of going anywhere. We must blister her bottom really good, and we don’t want her escaping, do we?" she added with a wink.
Again, Laura’s humiliation caused her tears to increase. Mrs. Randolph had spoken those words as if promising her daughter… her biological daughter… a Sunday treat. But that was no picnic, and definitely not for Laura. She felt her white-socked feet enclosed in Wendy’s small hands, which were gripping her ankles as hard as they could. Laura had this most unpleasant feeling that she really wouldn’t be going anywhere.
"So…" Mrs. Randolph’s voice became icy cold again as she spoke to Laura. "Fighting with your sister, Laura. You want to hurt a younger kid? You want to bully Wendy around just because you’re a few years older? Well, I’ll have none of that!"
And with that, she picked up the hairbrush from the bedspread and placed it on Laura’s trembling, waiting bottom cheeks. She rubbed it there in small circles for a while, much to Wendy’s enjoyment, as the child stared mesmerized at the breathtaking sight.
Laura was of course much less enthralled. "Oh no please… please Mommy, not the brush on the bare… I beg you… not with Wendy here…" she finished in a barely audible whisper.
But Mrs. Randolph had heard alright, and she had very little tolerance for fussing. She raised the heavy hairbrush and brought it down as hard as she could on Laura’s sit-spots – both of them, right in the centre, where she knew some of the sting would get to a place that would make the girl scream. And true enough, Laura’s shriek was earsplitting.
Unprepared by her writhing, Wendy let one of Laura’s feet escape her grip, and she had a hard time taking hold of it again. "You must be firmer, Wendy," her mother gently admonished. The child nodded and this time practically hugged Laura’s ankles, using her forearms as well as her hands to keep her in place.
The fifteen-year-old, meanwhile, was crying in utter misery. Rarely had a single smack hurt more than that one, and rarely if ever had a spanking started in such fashion. She knew, once again, that arguing with her mother to any degree warranted an extremely harsh reaction. That didn’t help with her sobbing, of course.
"Owww!… oh God… please Mommy… I’m so sorry! Please forgive me, I’ll be gooooood…" Laura wailed in agony. And her spanking had barely started.
"You’ve said that many times, Laura," Mrs. Randolph scolded as another blow fell on the girl’s right bottom cheek, causing a fresh yelp and more tears. "And you never are good for long. Am I allowed to think you are also a liar, then?" WHACK! went the hairbrush on the left cheek.
"Aieee! Noooo Mommy I’m nooooot…"
"I want to hope so, Laura Marie." Another two smacks echoed through the air sound as pistol shots, followed by the girl’s high-pitched shrieks of pain. "Because you know how liars are dealt with in this house."
Laura knew. Wendy knew. Peter knew. Everyone knew, and it was impossible to forget. Poor Laura bawled like a child as the hairbrush ignited white hot fire in her backside, and she twisted the comforter in her hands desperately trying not to reach back. Any further movement was impossible, not with her mother’s free arm circling her bare waist – her shirt had ridden all the way up to her chest – and Wendy the little imp’s hands restraining her ankles. Laura felt so helpless and vulnerable, held tight as if tied, like a prisoner submitting to a whipping. Only, this was much worse in her book.
True, she was fighting with Wendy, and yes, perhaps she needed to be punished; but it had been Wendy to start it, it had been her to be unreasonable and whiney, and Laura had finally lost it and given her a tiny small push. Fate had it that her mother would step in right that second, and blame her totally for it. In Laura’s opinion, Wendy was as guilty as she if not more, but it wasn’t Wendy to be upended over the maternal lap, with her sister holding her ankles, her bottom bare and oh so soundly smacked by the vicious hairbrush. No sir, Wendy was actually getting to watch, and to help, and if her mother wouldn’t change her mind, she would soon be smacking her bottom too. Laura’s only way to deal with the unfairness of it all was to hang her head and cry, then cry again, and then cry some more.
Wendy’s way was slightly different, or at least as different as her view was. While Laura’s eyes were too filled with tears to see anything beyond her own misery, the little girl’s were wide and registering every little detail. Every time her mother’s hairbrush spanked, and it did so at five-to-ten seconds intervals, she could see an oval white blotch soon turn to red, leaving a few distinct bruises where the brush edges had landed. Her sister’s bottom was a bright scarlet all over after less than twenty smacks – yes, Wendy was keeping an accurate count – and Laura’s shrieks and pleas had increased accordingly minute after minute.
But Wendy also had other things in her eyes, and mind. She found the dance of her sister’s feet in her hands to be so very entertaining. The girl was obviously trying to struggle free but could not, and that gave Wendy a feeling of power over her that she
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was finding intoxicating. Laura would do or not do what she, the baby of the house, allowed her to do or not do. And whenever her big sister would get a little too frantic in her attempts to escape, she would part her thighs and bend her legs at the knees as much as she could. When that happened, Wendy would get a clear shot of Laura’s private, innermost places, and she would feel another wave of excitement rushing over her.
She was going to be happy for quite a while, since Mrs. Randolph wasn’t showing signs of wanting to stop any time soon.
"You will be respectful and thoroughly obedient to us, who are your mother and father," she said, then let the hairbrush kiss her daughter’s right sit-spot, leaving a crimson splotch. "You will be respectful and set an example for your younger siblings, not take advantage of your age to fight and be a bully to them." Another blow, harder, to the very same place. The woman noticed that when she focused two, three or even four smacks in the same spot, Laura’s cries and promises to be good were more and more vigorous.
So she delivered a couple more on the crease between the girl’s right cheek and right thigh, until that area was much too bruised for now to continue, and a few nasty-looking ridges from the hairbrush’s not perfectly smooth borders had just appeared. Not a problem for Mrs. Randolph, who took on the left side with equal strength, and causing similar reactions.
By now, Laura was a sobbing mess of a teenager. She blabbered almost incoherently her vows to be the best-behaved daughter ever, and her throat was so hoarse she could almost scream no more. Almost: when a sequence of smacks would impact on the same spot again and again, she would let out the occasional yell, but for the most part, her reaction to the atrocious spanking limited to a long, loud and agonized sobbing howl.
Laura’s bottom wasn’t even aching anymore after the sixtieth smack or so – she definitely had lost count, and very early into the spanking, for that matter. Her derriere felt like one totally numb area, so she didn’t even notice when the spanking coming to an end, not right away at least. When she realized the sounds of the falling hairbrush had stopped, she knew that she was not being spanked anymore.
"You see, dear," Her mother’s voice speaking to Wendy was barely audible in the background. "Now Laura is one well-spanked girl. You can see it by two facts, basically. One, she’s not fighting anymore; did you notice how easier it was for you to restrain her feet lately, say, in the last minute or so?"
Wendy nodded and smiled as she slowly released her grip on Laura’s ankles and rubbed her socked feet, her hands running gently along the sole, on the toes and on the opposite side, squeezing delicately here and there.
"Good. And then, more importantly, you see the state of her bottom. It is scarlet red all over, with the occasional bruise… like here," she pointed at one with the hairbrush, "and here."
"Are…" Wendy fought to find the right words. She cleared her throat. "Are those ridges normal, Mommy? Will they go away?"
Mrs. Randolph smiled warmly at the naive question of her young daughter. "Aww, precious. Of course they are normal, and yes, they will be thoroughly healed in a few days. Even earlier, if we allowed Laura to have some lotion on them daily, but we want her to feel a lot of distress from those ridges every time she sits down. Makes sense to you, honey?"
Again Wendy smiled and nodded as she kept massaging her sister’s feet and, now, ankles and lower legs. It made sense and, quite frankly, it was cool to think about it. Though she often felt sorry for her, Wendy had to admit that the sight of Laura squirming in her chair at lunch or dinner was a cute sight. The little girl wasn’t particularly fond of her parents when they told Laura to sit still and properly unless she wanted another "trip to the woodshed" (figuratively speaking), but she could secretly enjoy the older girl’s distress.
"Are all spankings you give Laura this bad, Mommy?" Wendy questioned again.
"No, dear, this is particularly harsh because fighting is something I don’t tolerate, and…"
"I… I’m so sorry about that, Mommy…" Laura started in a meek voice, but three ferocious blows of the hairbrush, delivered hard and fast to her central sit-spot, had her screaming in agony all over again.
"You know better than to interrupt, Laura Marie. Please quiet down. Your spanking isn’t over yet," Mrs. Randolph reminded her daughter harshly.
That had fresh tears come to Laura’s eyes, as well as a new sparkle to Wendy’s. "Oh, Mommy…" the little girl said. "I’m really going to spank Laura too?"
The woman looked almost amazed by that. "Why, Gwendolyn…" she said, making the child blush at the use of her real name. "Don’t be silly, of course you are. It sounds just fair after what she did to you, don’t you think?"
Wendy nodded eagerly. "Yes Mommy, I think you are right. I’m so sorry for Laura though…"
"Aww and that shows your good heart, baby," she cooed, "but you see, one must steel oneself when it’s up to discipline, because deep down in her heart, Laura wants you to give her a good, long and very, very hard spanking for what she did to you. She would be disappointed in the long shot if you don’t blister her bum, because deep down, she’s very sorry to have hurt her little sister."
Laura couldn’t help but think that it had to be very, very deep down indeed, but of course she didn’t dare voice that thought.
"I understand, Mommy," Wendy said. "I think I can do it, then. Don’t worry, Laura, I’ll spank you nice and hard so you’ll learn."
And ignoring the teenager’s renewed howl at that promise of more spanking, Mrs. Randolph grabbed Laura’s waist and pushed the girl off of her lap, shifting her on top of little Wendy’s thighs. Laura wasn’t very well-built, so Wendy wouldn’t have too much trouble handling her, but still the woman grabbed the teenager’s wrists and forearms and held them tightly in her hands.
"Now, Laura, head down and bottom up for your little sister. Don’t you dare move or try to get away or anything of the like, because I’m sure you wouldn’t like what I have in store for you if you do. Understand?"
"Y-yes… yes ma’am…" Laura said through her tears.
"Hmm. Okay then," Mrs. Randolph reinforced her grip on the girl’s forearms, then handed Wendy the heavy hairbrush. "Here you are, honey. You’ve seen me do it, so you should know how it is used. It doesn’t take a degree anyway, does it?" she winked.
Wendy winked back as she shook her head, and all the while Laura kept crying. But her cries were destined to be renewed, and not just for the pain (though that played a major role); the fact itself of being bare from the belly down and draped over her little sister’s lap and about to get spanked by her was simply an unbearable blow to her teenage pride. A pride which had suffered countless other blows in the past by the hands of her parents, true, but still… this seemed, and perhaps was, the ultimate humiliation to Laura’s eyes.
CRACK! "Owwww!!"
The fifteen-year-old had to take that back: that first smack had been the ultimate humiliation. She would have never believed little Wendy capable of such strength! Or maybe it burned so much because it fell on an already well-spanked bottom, she wouldn’t know.
"Why, Wendy, not bad, not bad," said her mother. "But you’re smacking too hard."
A little sparkle of hope lit up in Laura’s eyes. Were her ears defying her??
"You don’t need to apply all the strength you have to each and every swat, because your arm will be tired long before it should be," Mrs. Randolph patiently explained her young trainee. "A good swing is essential, yes, but when you’re near Laura’s little bottom you need to snap your wrist downwards, so the hairbrush will impact at a more narrow angle. It hurts much more for Laura, leaves almost immediate bruises and requires little effort on your side."
Yes, Laura’s ears were defying her alright.
"Ooh I see Mommy, I didn’t know. Like I do when I shoot when I play basketball, so?"
"Yes, my dear! Exactly. Come on, try again… raise your arm… down, snap!"
SMACK!
"Yeowww!!" went Laura, and: "Yes!" went her mother.
"Perfect," Mrs. Randolph congratulated a grinning Wendy. A nasty small welt was already forming where the tip of the brush, snapped that way, had fallen on Laura’s swollen right bottom cheek. "Now resume, and switch between cheeks… also some at the thighs and on the sit-spots. They’re these areas here where buttock and thigh meet, honey." She slapped Laura hard on both sit-spots with her hand as a visual aid, causing fresh yelps from the girl.
Wendy was on a roll by now. Eagerly following her mother’s instructions, she applied fierce after fierce smack to her big sister’s crimson, welted posterior. She found that when struck on the sit-spots Laura would cry and scream and holler harder than usual, so that’s where the preteen directed most of the swats. Needless to say, her mother couldn’t be happier with the results.
Twenty smacks later, Laura had broke down completely and was laying limp on her sister’s and mother’s laps, sobbing uncontrollably, her whole beautiful body shaking and jerking out of her control. Mrs. Randolph had ordered a pause, much to Wendy’s chagrin.
"It’s necessary to give Laura time to catch her breath, dearie," the woman explained in a condescending tone, "and you need some rest too. Also, her bottom has probably gone num
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b by now and she’s not feeling the swats properly anymore. You need to wait so you can really ignite a fire in her tushie."
"Alright Mommy," Wendy nodded obediently. "I understand."
And so they waited. One minute went by, then another, and Laura wouldn’t stop her brokenhearted sobs. She would try to grasp for air every once in a while, with little success, and only after a lot of coughing and choking she managed to get her crying under control a bit. Her bottom felt like a burning fire, a scorching torch, a mess of bee stings and an uniform ball of pain. She knew she would burst to tears whenever she sat for days to come.
And it was then that she heard her mother signal to Wendy she could resume. Unable to help it, Laura jumped: "Nooooooo Mommy!…" she pleaded, breaking free from her grip and looking up at her with pleading eyes. "Mommy I BEG you, please make her stopppp, pleeeeease!… can’t take it… no more Mommy no more!"
"Laura Marie!" Mrs. Randolph snapped as her daughter was about to push herself up from Wendy’s lap. The woman brought back her hand in a swift arc and slapped the teenager’s face hard and fast, twice, once on each cheek. Laura’s sobs renewed as she held her face and her head spun and her vision became blurred. "How dare you be such a disrespectful young lady at a time like this? Shame on you!"
Mrs. Randolph pushed her oldest girl back down over her and Wendy’s lap – the preteen watching the show wide-eyed – and then took hold of Laura’s T-shirt and drew it over her head and off, leaving the girl naked except for her white socks and matching bra. This went too, as the woman’s expert fingers quickly unsnapped it and nearly tore it off Laura’s chest.
"Your socks is all you’re allowed to wear until your father gets home this evening, Laura Marie," her mother said sternly. "If you’ll be granted clothes for the rest of the week-end or not, it will be up to his clemency."
Laura sobbed harder and again just lay limp, thoroughly embarrassed. Knowing she would be nude in the house was horrible in itself, but the thought of having to basically implore her father into wearing something again was nearly unbearable. She knew that the least he’d do would be whipping her with his belt SO hard and for SO long that she would faint, that evening, and then… well, as her mother had said, it was all up to his clemency.
"And now," Mrs. Randolph declared as she moved Laura back over her own knees, "I’m afraid you’ve earned yourself two dozens penalty smacks. Sorry, Wendy, but Mommy must deal with this now."
Laura screamed and begged when she heard that. "No MOMMY! Oh God no… I beg you… please, please! Not there, don’t s-spank me theeeeere!… you have no idea… you don’t know how it… owww how it hurts!… nooo Mommy PLEASE!"
But Mrs. Randolph had made up her mind already, and didn’t even reply to her daughter’s pleas. "Wendy, sweetums, you can still be of help to Mommy. You need to grasp Laura’s ankles again… stop kicking Laura!" She pulled at her earlobe again to drive the message through, and it worked. "I was saying: take a firm hold of her ankles and spread them three feet apart, and keep them there. You think you can do this, honey?"
Wendy, still shocked at the extremely harsh way her mother was treating her big sister – again that mixture of being thrilled and sorry for her at the same time – nodded her head in compliance and said: "Yes Mommy."
"Good girl."
Taking a deep breath, Wendy did as asked and pried Laura’s feet well apart. Her legs opened consequently, and from her favored position she was rewarded with the view of her sister’s almost hairless, puffy nether lips. While her head swirled and she thought how gross it is for someone to shave down there – gross to her preteen mind, at least – she saw in a blur that her mother had raised the hairbrush again…
CRACK! It landed on the inside of Laura’s left thigh, a spot that had to be extremely tender, judging from the girl’s shrill scream that really had the windowpanes shaking for a second. On her behalf, Laura had rarely ever felt such pain before in her life. That was the most tender spot she could imagine apart from her very privates, and it was hurting beyond belief. And when she was finally starting to come to terms with it, another blow fell right on top of the first one, and her vision was again blurred by pain and red dots as she yelled afresh.
Mrs. Randolph then moved on to the left thigh, delivering two searing smacks there. Then it was back to the right, and the same trip, again and again, until two dozens had been reached. By then, Laura was having trouble breathing and lay spent, blabbing senseless words and sobbing uncontrollably over her mother’s lap. Wendy’s eyes were fixed on the bright red insides of her sister’s thighs, that had bruised horribly and immediately under the merciless beating. She was barely even holding Laura’s ankles anymore, but it wasn’t needed: the girl had lost all of her will to fight, and was as limp as one could be.
At long last, Mrs. Randolph set down the vicious hairbrush. After inspecting Laura’s tortured backside for a minute, she turned to Wendy and gave her a sweet smile. "So, honeybunch, you see what happens to your sister when she’s mean to you, and even more so when she dares to defy my authority – or, in this case, yours."
Wendy had to smile at that, though in her heart she was feeling sorry for Laura. Past experience taught her that her sister rarely if ever had hard feelings toward her siblings despite the many spankings they got her into, and the preteen wondered if that would be the case too.
As for Laura, she barely noticed when her mother picked her up bodily from across her lap, and carried her somewhere else in the room, but her senses sprung to life when her raw backside was planted hard on a high wooden stool facing the corner. The scream that followed could have awakened the dead.
–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–
On one thing Laura was wrong: that evening, her father didn’t take the belt to her at all. The sight of her swollen, purple backside – made even more so after one hour of hell spend sitting on the stool, naked and facing the corner – was enough to deter him from whipping her, even though he said that she should be grateful she was being let off easy. The contrite teenager was still given two solid slaps across her face which got her crying again, as well as two well-aimed smacks at her sit-spots, more than enough to start a long series of sobs right before the two hours she would spend in the living room corner. After all, there’s no point standing naked in a corner if you’re not crying your heart out and thinking about your misdeeds, Mr. Randolph thought.
And as for giving Laura permission to wear clothes the rest of the week-end, he had discarded the question with a small laugh and a shake of his head.
– END OF PART THREE –
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