by Clarine Klein
Hey there everybody, my name is Sally Jones. I wish I could say that as I started getting older and became a teenager I got spanked less and less often, or even that I never got spanked at all, but that would be a lie. By some cruel twist of fate things seemed to go exactly the opposite for me compared to how most kids my age experienced them. Instead of my parents easing up and letting me do my own thing, they seemed to think I needed even more discipline the older I got. Talk about a load of bull crap, am I right?
I'm not really sure how it all started; well it would be fairer to say I'm not really sure why it all started actually. Growing up I'd say I was a pretty normal kid. My behavior wasn't stellar, but I'd hardly consider myself to be a total Bart Simpson or anything like that. My room was usually a mess and I liked to bicker with my younger sister Melissa a lot. Oh, and I never was a fan of staying in bed at night (messing around with games and stuff while trying not to get caught was way more fun, okay?), but that's hardly out of the ordinary for most kids my age. At least, I think so. It's not like I was living in Brady Bunch Land or something, so of course I wasn't a perfect little goody two shoes.
My parents, for the most part, seemed like they were just fine with letting me be. Oh, they'd get upset whenever my siblings and I fought and I'd get grounded for like a day or two, and they'd totally chew me out and threaten to send me to bed extra early whenever they caught me up past bedtime, but that was usually about it. At least, that was about it right up until the time I hit high school.
It wasn't like there was some super huge extra bad thing I got caught doing that changed everything or anything like that, it all just kinda happened one night. It was a couple weeks into my school term. We'd moved into a brand new house earlier that summer, and I finally had my own room all to myself. With that bedroom came my very own personal computer, and even better, our house had just been wired up for high-speed DSL. You have to understand that this was a huge deal back in 2002. Internet that wasn't super slow or that didn't require a dial up connection tying up the phone line was a brand new thing for me, and being the introverted nerdy girl that I am, I was of course stoked beyond belief.
Anyway, it all started because I was up super late during a school night playing on my computer. In my defense, it was only about 1am at the time, but when school starts at 8:30 and I was supposed to have been in bed by ten, I guess I can kind of see where my dad was coming from. And also in the spirit of fairness I guess I should also point out that this was hardly a rare thing for me either. But come on... the internet was always on and was super-fast, and I could play on Neopets for as long as I wanted to, and watch pirated copies of Invader Zim that I'd downloaded from Limewire, it was awesome! So cut me some slack, okay?
So there I was having a great time checking out the Neopets shops, when out of nowhere my door suddenly burst open and in stormed my dad, and boy oh boy was he not happy. I don't remember exactly what he said to me at the time, getting caught out of bed like that had kinda put me into panic mode and I was too busy trying to minimize windows and turn off my monitor so he wouldn't notice what I'd been doing, but it was something to the effect of, "What are you still doing up? Don't you know what time it is? You have school in the morning!" Blah blah blah.
Now, we'd had this particular exchange a handful of times since we'd moved into our new house. Normally he'd just burst in, I'd be shocked and embarrassed and then I'd apologize and scurry off to bed only mildly miffed that I couldn't keep playing with my computer that night, and that would be the end of it. That particular night however was different for some reason. After our usual back and forth about how late it was and my excuses that I'd forgotten to check the time and how I'd only planned to be on for a little bit longer, I apologized and moved to get into bed. I was already in my pajamas and the plan had been to just turn off the monitor and dive under the covers if I heard anybody moving on the stairs. This time though he sat down on the edge of my bed, blocking my way, and as I drew closer I gave him a confused look. His response in turn was to grab me by the upper arm and start pulling me toward him.
"Not this time, little girl."
My stomach did a horrible little flip flop at that and I instinctively stopped and tried to pull away, just a little bit. My heart was suddenly going a million miles an hour and I had a horrible suspicion of what just might be about to happen. Sure enough, he tugged me closer and I ended up tripping over a pair of discarded jeans on the floor and tumbling across his lap.
"No wait, Dad, I'm sorry!" I squeaked. Even if I didn't know what a spanking actually felt like, I knew enough from Tom and Jerry reruns to get the gist of what was about to happen and to know that I wanted no part of it.
"Too late, Sally," was my dad's only response as he leaned over and grabbed my legs around the knees. This confused me at first and for a split second I had a sudden flash of hope that maybe I wasn't actually about to get spanked and that this was just some weird game he was playing to scare me into obeying. But those hopes were short-lived as it quickly became apparent that he was just moving my legs up so that they were being supported by my bed like my torso was.
"Dad, please, just give me one more chance. Please!" I begged while at the same time trying to push myself up off his lap in the vain hope that if I could just move out of the way he might reconsider. Unfortunately for me I was learning first hand that my dad was in fact a lot stronger than I was, and was more than capable of keeping me pinned across his lap with only his left forearm.
Again I can't really remember my dad's exact response, but it was basically something to the effect of, "You've had plenty of chances already, and now you're going to get spanked."
I definitely remember the whole "now you're going to get spanked" part really clearly because right after he said it, I felt him grab the waistband of my pajama pants and start pulling, trying to take them down. Unfortunately for me they were kinda on the snug side. They were these really cute pink flannel ones I'd gotten for Christmas last year from Santa, so it took forever for him to actually get them down. He had to sort of tug and pull a little bit at a time on one side and then the other before he was finally able to get the waistband down past my bottom, and I don't imagine my sudden wriggling and promises to be good helped make things easier for him either. Now whether it was the snugness of my pajamas, or my fruitless struggles to keep them up where they should be, the end result was still the same. About half a minute later later my PJs were inside out around my knees, and to my utter horror I could feel that my panties had slipped about halfway down my bottom during it all as well.
My dad obviously noticed this too since a second later I felt his fingers sliding into the stretchy pink elastic waistband of my panties (Yes I still remember what pair I was wearing that night, it was a big deal, okay?). Once again that sudden surge of hope returned to me and I thought for sure he was going to pull them back up for me since it would obviously be super-duper-ultra-embarrassing if he saw my naked butt. It was bad enough that he was seeing my panties already as it was, especially since the little hearts on them weren't doing much to help my frantic "I'm too old for this!" claims to carry much weight, but instead he just dragged them down even more until they were around my thighs.
"Might as well do this right, kiddo."
Well at this point I was absolutely mortified and just about the biggest bundle of embarrassment and nervous anticipation ever. I never would have thought in a million years that this was how I was going to end up when I got out of bed that morning, but nevertheless there I was, and now that I was there part of me was extremely curious to see what was going to happen next. Sure enough, about a second later I felt my dad's palm slap down hard right in the middle of my bare bottom, making it jiggle and bounce. Holy crap, did it hurt! I would later come to understand that he had given me a pretty mild hand spanking that night, at least by the standards he and Mom would set in the years to come, but at that moment it was more than enough to make me squawk and squirm and squeal... and cry too if you must know.
He kept his pace brisk and sharp, never really stopping between swats but instead just smacking in a left, right, center, right, left sort of pattern. Instinctively I tried to keep count of how many swats he gave me, but between the pain of being spanked, the utter embarrassment of having my dad see my naked bottom, and the overwhelming shock of this out of nowhere (at least as far as I was concerned) and totally new experience, I quickly lost count. My best guess was that he probably gave me somewhere around 30 or 40 swats in total that night. It was a pretty short spanking all things considered. I'd always imagined that a spanking lasted a lot longer since cartoons always faded out on them whenever they started, but it was still more than enough to make my bottom throb and ache in a not totally unpleasant way for the next half hour as I laid on my side in bed and tried to fall asleep, while at the same time trying to get a handle on everything that had just happened.
The whole episode couldn't have lasted more than maybe five minutes tops, but as I would soon come to realize, it had set a brand new (and scary) precedent for me and my behavior. Whether I liked it or not, my mom and dad decided that the spanking Dad had given me had done just the thing to cure my naughtiness, and that since it had been so effective, they agreed that from then on whenever I misbehaved they'd just spank me. Period.
But then again, to be fair, I didn't dare sneak out of my bed for at least two weeks after that.
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.