by Guy Spencer
SPANKED! I'm going to get SPANKED! And it was even my idea... at least sort of my idea. My mind is just sorta numb, and I hope it stays that way or I am really going to get scared and nervous. I am almost seventeen and a half, and the last time I was spanked I was 15, so I really thought my spanking days were over... until today. It's amazing that I used to feel so smug when one of my two brothers or one of my friends got it, because I assumed that I was too old, or perhaps too good, to ever get it again myself. Well I guess I was wrong, because soon I'm going to get SPANKED!
Yesterday was the last day of school before spring break so the whole senior class was invited to a big spring break kickoff party at Becky's house. Dad and Mom let Randy drive me to the party because they knew that it was going to be supervised by Becky's parents and the party would be over at 11 sharp, plus it was close.
Becky's parents were watching way too closely for anyone to sneak beer inside, so the two six packs were outside behind a shrub. I still don't know who brought them, but word spread quickly and we sneaked out in ones and twos to partake. Randy and I shared a whole 16-ounce can.
We left the party a bit early so we could buy a pizza to hide the beer smell on our breath. It turned out that half the party went to Tony's pizza, so it was kinda like a second party. Tony was behind on his pizza orders so it took a while to get our pizza.
Do I need to say it? It was almost 1am when Randy dropped me off at the house. The lights were still on bright. I knew that the scene inside wouldn't be pretty, but I had no idea!
First I found myself alone in the kitchen with my mother and we were having the most embarrassing conversation of my life! She wanted me to be straight with her. Did Randy and I "do" anything? Suddenly I realized what she was talking about and my face must have turned bright red! Hell no we didn't "do" anything! We were having way too much fun to be thinking about making out! Finally I convinced her that we were at Tony's Pizza the whole time after we left the party and she could kinda tell by looking at me that there was no hanky-panky. You should have seen the look of relief on her face. I hoped that would be the end and that I'd be off to bed; but then she said, "OK let's go see your dad and face the music about you being late and about the beer."
Beer? I had totally forgotten about the beer! How did she know about the beer?
Well I soon found out. A few of the others had been stupid enough to leave their empties on Becky's lawn and her parents had a cow when they saw them. They got right on the phone and started telling parents... and then Mom smelled it on my breath. Busted!
And then I made it ten times worse.
When they asked for my side of the story, I tried to sound all goody-goody by explaining that I only drank the beer because I didn't want Randy to drink the whole can by himself. And then my father asked, "Well then, who drove you home?" Busted again! I forgot the hard-and-fast no alcohol and especially no alcohol combined with cars rule. The fact that it was only one beer made no difference at all. To my parents, alcohol is alcohol and cars is cars, and the two must never mix.
My father is a large, easygoing man. He can show anger, but when us kids are really in trouble, he has this way of being serious and calm, almost kind. Now that the talk has turned to alcohol and cars, I suddenly notice that Daddy is acting very serious and calm, almost kind.
When my father had probed enough to be 100% sure that he understood the whole story, the conversation shifted to how disappointed he and Mommy were with me. Then I knew that I was really in trouble.
I couldn't believe my stupidity.
Then the lecture started. After the longest 15 minutes of my life, my parents' tag-team scolding finally wound down. They told me to go up and get ready for bed and then come back down and see them. I was in serious trouble and they obviously wanted to talk privately about my punishment.
Ten minutes later, I was back down in the living room wearing my PJs and trying to look as sorry and as cute as possible. Dad came right out and told me that I was on three weeks strict restriction. Wait a minute; my spring break is only two weeks long! I starting bawling and tried to bargain a delay in my restriction until school started again. No way! I would be a prisoner through my entire senior spring break and then some!
Then I blubbered something about how I would rather take a hard spanking than lose my spring break. I don't know if I really meant it at the time, but my parents greeted my suggestion by a long silence rather than the outright refusal I expected. It's amazing how sometimes parents can have a whole conversation together and not say a word. My mother looked at Dad sort of hopeful-like. Clearly she didn't relish being my jailer for the next three weeks. And then my father gave her this sort of sad, resigned look. (Obviously, he didn't really want to be my executioner.) Finally my father gave a little shrug like he had lost a bet and asked me, "Are you sure that's what you want, Honey? We're not talking about a little nursery school paddywacking here. This would have to be a spanking that would substitute for a three-week restriction."
And then I suddenly stopped my blubbering and I got the funniest feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know that feeling just before you top that first big hill on the roller coaster and you're about to plummet nearly straight down? It felt just like that.
I tried to stall and get a little more information; "Would it... would it be... would it be with...?" My father stopped me before I could even form the question. He said that he and Mommy hadn't had time to discuss anything about a spanking yet and if I chose a spanking I would just have to take my chances and live with their decision. He said I should consider the full range of possibilities, including the belt. I think he hoped to talk me out of it.
And then he said I had to make up my mind right then and there, and that I wouldn't be allowed to change my decision. Otherwise, he said, I would just torment myself with second guesses.
In the end it was an easy choice; a few minutes of hell compared to being a prisoner through my entire spring break. A spanking, even a very hard spanking takes no more than ten or fifteen minutes; but three weeks of restriction takes three whole weeks! I didn't want my brothers to hear me get spanked, but either way they would soon know of my disgrace. That's the rule in our family; punishments are never a secret. I gulped hard, and then it was like I was standing outside my body and someone else was talking. I apologized as best I could and then asked my parents for a spanking! My stomach churned and I could hear my heart hammering in my ears. Half of me was afraid that Daddy would spank me right now, but the other half was afraid he would make me wait.
As it turned out, I had to wait. Daddy wasn't about to spank his little girl at 1am, and besides, there was a sort of family ritual to follow. Tomorrow evening there would be a family meeting where I would have to confess everything, and then I would be sent up to my room to wait for Dad to come in and actually do the deed.
We all went to bed, but the night was hell! I was worried about my own bottom, but mostly I was worried because I had spilled the beans on Randy and doubtless my mother would call his mother.
By the time I got out of bed that morning, Daddy had already left for work. It was a really weird day. Mom said that even though I wasn't officially on restriction, I should stay home until my punishment was over. I didn't argue because I didn't really feel like going anywhere anyhow. I didn't ask, but doubtless my mother had already called Randy's mother. I was scared that he would be really pissed at me, but I finally screwed up my courage and called him.
Fortunately, he was the person who answered the phone. "Don't worry," he said, "Becky's parents beat your parents to the punch. Dad and Mom confronted me as soon as I got home and I confessed. Next thing you know my pants were off, Mom had confiscated my car keys and Dad had my own belt folded up in his hands. I'm sure you can guess what happened after that!"
I hadn't intended to confess to him that I was going to get spanked, but under the circumstances, how could I not? After that, he supplied a few other details: He had ended up getting it bent across an easy chair in the living room. His plan had been to take it quietly so as to not wake up his sister, but that plan dissolved into loud howls after only three swats with that belt. His sister ended up watching the last part of his spanking from the top of the stairs. She even saw the aftermath where he was dancing around with a naked butt. Poor guy!
Sometimes that day seemed to go too fast and sometimes it seemed to crawl, but anyhow, it went. I tried to pump Mom about my coming spanking, but got nowhere. Just like last night, she simply said that she and Daddy hadn't talked yet, but I had to accept whatever they decided I deserved. About this time I started to get really nervous. Daddy is a mechanic and he's a big guy with thick arms and very strong hands. There's no paddle in our house. When he spanks us, his hands are his implements of choice. Unfortunately, he also makes it known that the wide belt that holds up his work pants has another potential use. You can guess what that is! I've never felt that belt myself, (though I once heard my brothers get it) but I'm terribly afraid that today is the day.
Another thing that I'm afraid of is my panties. Specifically, I'm afraid of being separated from them. I am almost 18 and, if I do say so myself, I look like a woman. So I shouldn't be displaying myself to my father. I tried to make Mom see my side of this, but she just brushed it off. Dad occasionally spanks us over our underwear, but usually he pulls them down in back and spanks our bare butt. Unfortunately, for the very worst spankings, he makes us take them off altogether. This hasn't happened to me since I was nine, but today? Who knows!
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