by Frank Martinet
Davina couldn't believe that she and Kayla were going to be spanked. Actually, she could believe Kayla was going to be spanked - she got spanked all the time. The real surprise was that Davina herself was going to get the same treatment. Her father's words to Mr. Cole were still bouncing around inside her astonished head: "Please punish Davina just like your own daughter."
She tried to tell herself that it was a mistake, that maybe her father didn't know that Kayla was still spanked. But she knew that wasn't true. She'd mentioned it at least a hundred times to her folks when she was in a complaining mood. Thinking back, she now realized that she'd been sort of bragging that she didn't get spanked like Kayla. That was certainly about to change.
She couldn't even remember the last time she'd gotten spanked. It had been years. Maybe a whole decade. She was almost 17 now, and the idea of getting any kind of a spanking was almost incomprehensible. That it would be as severe as the ones Kayla usually got was terrifying.
Davina had seen her best friend spanked on many occasions. When spankings were as common as they were in Kayla's life, that wasn't unusual. Mr. and Mrs. Cole also didn't sit on ceremony - if one of their daughters deserved punishment, she got it, right then, right there, and it didn't matter if the Queen of England was over for tea.
Most of the spankings Davina had witnessed were more of the earshot variety. An authoritarian voice would call Kayla into another room and Davina would stay behind, knowing what was coming. Then she'd hear her friend pleading for mercy, and soon would come the muffled sounds of smacks and whacks as whatever implement had been selected was being forcefully applied to the teen's bare bottom. She'd hear Kayla's heartfelt cries - she always cried - and eventually the girl would return, nursing a sore rump.
Often Davina saw part of the spanking. Mrs. Cole might deliver a few angry swats with her hand before dragging Kayla to another location for the main event. Other times Davina watched the entire 'warm-up' - an extensive spanking with the hand or brush or small paddle - and then the 'real' spanking would take place with a big paddle or leather strap in another room.
On a few occasions Davina had watched the whole thing. Those were the memories foremost in her mind now. Seeing your best friend stripped and spanked, howling and kicking like a toddler, made an impression you couldn't forget. That was going to be Davina in a few minutes.
There was no question that her most common memory of Kayla's corrections was seeing her friend's red bottom. She saw that far more often than she saw or heard Kayla get spanked. It seemed to her that Kayla's bottom was perpetually red, though the severity of the coloring did vary. Davina had seen a few instances when Kayla's ass was absolutely puce purple - how a butt got that sore was not something Davina wanted to know.
But at least there was one silver lining: neither of the girls would get it as severely as Kayla's big sister, Lily. Lily was 24. She was elegantly slim, with a figure Davina envied. Not that Davina had anything to be ashamed about - most girls were jealous of her - but whereas Davina's bottom was slightly broader and more pronounced, Lily's was tall and shaped like a bell, with a graceful outward sweep toward the bottom of the butt. What Davina liked was that Lily was just so shapely. There were no abrupt edges or awkward transitions on her body. Everything just flowed together into perfection.
Of course, Lily was far from perfect. She was willful, lazy, and aimless. She'd dropped out of college after her sophomore year, taking a year off to 'find herself'. Apparently that meant finding a guy who knocked her up and disappeared. Now she lived at home and made a meager wage as a waitress, while she raised a baby.
Mr. Cole had decided that Lily lacked discipline, so he proposed that he provide it as a condition of her living at home. Lily wasn't in a position to argue, and to tell the truth, she secretly agreed with her father. It had been her time away from family that she'd gotten into the most trouble.
It was a common sight for Davina and Kayla to find Lily nude in the corner of the living room, her gloriously white bottom crisscrossed with sharp red lines. Mr. Cole had graduated her to the cane. It was never less than twelve vigorous strokes, and often much more.
Davina had the fortune to watch Lily caned on three occasions. The first two had been routine twelvers, but the third had been two dozen. Every stroke had been delivered with such force that Davina couldn't fathom how much it hurt. She didn't understand how Lily could stand it. But then Lily, like Kayla, was accustomed to long, hard spankings. At her age, a few strokes with a cane, however painful, was probably preferred to spending 15 minutes draped over a lap like a child, having her ass roasted with a hairbrush.
The sound of a man clearing his throat broke Davina out of her reverie. She half-turned, her face hot with blush, for she was naked from the waist down. Her bare bottom was prickling with an eerie sense of doom. Then she saw the man and forgot her embarrassment.
Mr. Cole was standing on the landing above the sunken living room wearing a scowl, and carrying a large wooden paddle and a thick leather strap.
"You're getting two spankings," he said grimly. "One for going to the party without permission, and one for getting into a car with a driver who'd been drinking."
As Davina gasped in horror, the man glared at her. "You're lucky the cops broke things up when they did. If you'd been drinking yourselves it would also be the cane."
The girls looked at each other. Neither was going to admit that the punch had been spiked. Not enough for alcohol to show on their breath, and each had only had a few sips, but still. If Mr. Cole knew that, their bottoms wouldn't be worth owning.
The man eased himself onto the sofa. He nodded at his daughter. Kayla silently trotted over and obediently laid herself across his lap like an expert. She was effectively lying on the couch, but with the man's legs in the middle making a bump, her butt was projected in the air. It already was pert enough to do a lot of projecting on its own, so in this position, it looked almost obscene, as though Kayla was offering her ass up eagerly.
The warm-up with his hand was a punishment on its own as far as Davina was concerned. She cried just watching and was ashamed of that, especially since the hand spanking didn't even phase Kayla. She just lay there and took it, her round bubble butt bouncing to the slaps as though it was a rubber ball.
Davina wasn't nearly so calm. She writhed and kicked and sobbed, astonished at how much a mere hand could hurt. She wondered if it made Mr. Cole's hand hurt, hoped it did, and then felt guilty for thinking that. After all, he wasn't a mean man - he was just doing his duty, and she knew that she and Kayla deserved to be punished.
That was easier to imagine in theory than in reality. Once her bottom was stinging fiercely, the fatty flesh quivering to loud palm slaps, her resolve faded. She was soon bawling, but the spanking went on and on. Mr. Cole gave her the same spanking he'd given his daughter. On the surface that seemed fair, but Kayla was used to being spanked, so it hurt her a lot more.
Of course, that was nothing compared to the paddling that followed. Twenty-five blistering whacks to each heinie had both girls weeping, Davina more than her friend. Mr. Cole had the girls stand at each end of the sofa, leaning across an arm, and he went from one to the other, delivering five searing blows at a time. Each round had Davina thinking she was dying, and while the delay before the next five gave her time to recover slightly, it also allowed her to feel the misery of her burning bottom without the distraction of another swat landing. Instead she got to listen to Kayla's grunts as the board heated up her ass.
There was no way of knowing how many rounds they'd get as Mr. Cole didn't speak. He just kept repeating the five spanks, and by the time he stopped after the fifth round, Davina had been just about positive he was never going to quit. Her bottom felt swollen and as hot as the sun. She wept with relief when it was over.
"Go back to your corners and think about why you got paddled and why you're getting the strap," he said sternly.
For twenty minutes the girls fidgeted in misery, their bottoms prickling and throbbing. Davina was almost glad when Mr. Cole returned, except that soon they were bending over the sofa arms again, staring at each other across the gulf of the sofa, and waiting for their whippings.
"Getting into a car with a drunk driver is just as bad as drinking and driving yourself," Mr. Cole said in a low voice that trembled with fury. "If that cop hadn't stopped you, you could have crashed and died. I'm going to make sure you girls never do anything like that again, do you understand me?"
"Yes, Daddy," whimpered Kayla.
Since she was clearly afraid of what was to come, Davina was scared out of her mind. But she did manage a meek "Yes sir!"
Then Mr. Cole gave the girls the whipping of their lives. It was five lashes apiece for the first 30, then he switched to ten and went on for three more rounds. Sixty strokes of that thick leather strap on buns well-spanked and paddled. He did spread the belt around, whipping the backs of their legs for some rounds, but it was still a hefty price.
Davina wept and howled and vowed to never even look at an alcohol bottle again. From Kayla's yelps and moans, she was promising herself the same thing. The whipping went on and on from there, and when their butts were growing a little numb and used to the five swipes, he upped the dose of each round to ten, laying them on hard and fast. Davina had never felt anything like it. She wanted desperately to run away, but was too afraid of Mr. Cole to do that. Besides, she'd never be able to look at Kayla again if she got less than her friend.
Finally the nightmare was over. The girls were back in their corners, their bare bottoms red and steaming with furious heat. Neither was allowed to rub, of course, and had to stand there for 30 minutes contemplating their situation.
When Mr. Cole returned, studying their punished bottoms for a few embarrassing minutes, he asked them if they'd learned their lesson. Davina shouted her answer of, "Yes Sir!"
He seemed pleased with the emphatic response and told them they were free to dress and go. The girls didn't bother with the first choice - they just grabbed their clothes and ran half-naked to Kayla's room, passing an amused Lily in the hall.
Once alone, they admired each other's whip marks and took turns putting cold cream on each other's buns. Then they lay on their bellies on the bed and felt sorry for themselves for a while.
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.