by Frank Martinet
Katie Raymonde was so pretty and vivacious she was hard to resist. Her case was compelling, too. There'd be tons of college hunks at the party, maybe alcohol. It would be a blast. No one would even suspect the girls were not college age.
"Come on," she begged. "With boobs like yours, you can easily pass for 21. Just think about how much fun it'll be. College guys drooling and fighting over you!"
"But if we're caught, we'll get... in trouble," said Abby Morgan. She was a petite girl with black hair, large brown eyes, and an adorable face. Her reputation as a studious, good girl clashed with her voluptuous physique. Over the summer her breasts had sprouted like pumpkins, and now loomed huge on her chest. Her backside wasn't far behind, jutting out like two plump cantaloupes.
At least she had the girth to support the attributes, unlike beanpole Katie. She was the physical opposite. She was tall and lean with long blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her sculptured features were such that with a little makeup she could easily pass for five years older than her actual age of seventeen.
"So we get caught. Big deal. We'll just get grounded," she said with a shrug.
Abby couldn't believe her friend's cavalier attitude. She tried to come up a justification for her resistance. "The harvest dance is coming up. We can't miss that!"
"That's true. But I know a great trick for getting out of being grounded." Katie leaned closer, glancing around to make sure they weren't being spied upon. "Just beg your daddy to spank you instead!"
Abby went pale. "W-what?" she gasped.
"Trust me. It works. Daddies are softies. They talk a big gruff game, but they can't bear to see their precious darlings hurt. All you have to do is make a big fuss - cry if you can. Scream at every little slap and you'll only get a handful. They'll hardly be more than love pats. Just make it seem like they actually hurt. You'll be let off after just a minute. Trust me!"
Abby's round face wore a pasted on smile. Inside she was shuddering. She wasn't sure what kind of spanking Katie was talking about. It didn't sound anything like the ones she got. Her daddy was strict and if you deserved a spanking, you got a spanking. He didn't just use his hand, he used a heavy wooden hairbrush, and it wasn't over in sixty seconds. If you were lucky it was only five or six minutes of agony, and Abby usually wasn't lucky.
Katie wasn't done. She looked around again, confirming they were alone. "If you want an even better tip, try this. Go get a hot pepper or some of that super-hot Chinese mustard. You just need a dab. When your spanking is about to happen, just eat the mustard or chew a tiny piece of the pepper. Your eyes will water like mad and your daddy will be convinced he's murdering you!"
"Does that really work?"
"Totally. When your daddy sees those tears, he won't dare spank you any more."
Abby knew the idea was ludicrous, but she wasn't about to tell that to Katie because then she'd have to explain that she still got spanked for real, and that her father's spankings were no joke. But without that argument, how could she resist her friend's plan? Abby would just have to hope they wouldn't get caught.
"I guess it'll be okay," she finally said. "The party does sound like it'd be fun."
The party was fun. Getting there was not. Abby hated lying to her folks about being tired and going to bed early, sneaking out, and getting a ride to campus from Katie's big brother. She was too nervous to enjoy anything for at least the first hour, but when the world didn't end, she finally started to relax. Probably the three glasses of fruit punch helped. She was pretty sure it was spiked with something, but didn't ask or complain.
It was Katie who blew it. She got so giggly drunk she posted a selfie of the two of them. To be fair, Abby herself didn't realize the implications until her father showed up. Naturally he monitored the girls' social media accounts and when he saw the post, he tracked Abby's phone to find where they were.
Katie just got a verbal scolding and dropped off at her house, Mr. Morgan explaining to her parents where he'd found the girls. When they left, Katie was already working her "Please don't spank me, Daddy" ploy.
Abby wasn't so lucky. Her father would hardly speak to her the whole drive home, and then he only ordered her to go to her room to prepare. That was code for an impending spanking.
She undressed and put on her pajamas, knowing that the bottoms wouldn't be on for long. Then she went to the corner and lowered them to her knees and stood with her bare bottom on show. It was about 15 minutes before her dad arrived.
He was carrying the thick wooden hairbrush and leather strap. He sat on her bed and called her over. She didn't want to go, but did, her feet feeling as though they were stuck in thick mud. She trembled before him as he lectured her on her crimes of disobedience, lying, and going to an adult party, her eyes on the hairbrush and heavy strap and her chubby moons shivering behind.
When it was time, she flopped across his lap. For the next ten minutes the paddle-shaped hairbrush tried to flatten the round bulb of her butt with no success, though the process hurt like hell and roasted her buns to a vivid crimson.
A sobbing Abby then knelt across her bedspread for a good hard licking with the belt. Though her ass was the primary focus of the leather's wicked attention, her thighs were not spared. Soon she felt she was one huge welt from her cleft to the back of her knees.
Abby lay in bed weeping afterward, her pajamas gone, her hot naked bottom exposed to the cool air without even a sheet. She wondered if Katie's 'trick' had worked and what it would be like to have a father who thought a slap on the rump was a spanking.
It was Monday before she got a chance to see Katie. She could tell by the blonde's mischievous grin that the girl wasn't nursing a sore bottom.
"Did you try it? Didn't it work grand? Daddy was so mad, he spanked me the hardest ever! I must have gotten two dozen pretty good slaps to my ass, though it didn't really hurt much. I pretended it did, though, sobbing as though my dog had just died. He bought it! How'd it go with you?"
Abby shrugged. "Pretty much the same," she lied. "At least I didn't get grounded."
"I told you it would work! Daddies are such pussies."
"Yeah," Abby said, picturing herself a hot sweaty sobbing mess across her father's broad lap with her ass glowing like twin cherries.
She managed to resist Katie's charms for a while, but soon enough there came another opportunity to rebel. The school trip to the museum was as tedious as anything, and Katie had the brilliant idea to escape during the chaos.
"There's a movie theatre across the street," she said. "We can go see the new the Ryan Reynolds romantic comedy. It'll be awesome!"
"I don't know," said Abby cautiously.
"We'll be back before Mrs. Crenshaw even notices we're missing," Katie insisted. "But even if we're caught it'll just mean a Saturday detention. Boring, but no big deal. You can even take swats from the principal to get out of that if you want. Just three per half day."
"Don't those hurt?"
"Nah. Not when you give Principal Perry your puppy dog eyes and scream at every smack. The first one can be a little spicy, but after that he's a pussycat. It's almost too easy."
Abby doubted that. There was a rule in her family where spankings at school earned double doses at home. But the museum was boring, all dull old paintings and weird new paintings that looked like stuff a kindergarten kid made. Three hours of that was almost worse than being at school.
"Come on, we've got to go now or we'll miss the start of the movie!"
"Okay," Abby finally said, her stomach tightening as she thought of the risk she was taking. She followed Katie and it was silly easy. The museum was a maze and it was trivial to slip around a corner and then another and in just seconds the two were on their own. It was hardly a bigger deal to get out the front door after getting their hands stamped for re-entry, Katie brazenly lying to the half-asleep clerk about forgetting her phone in her car.
The two girls did their best to look like mature college girls as they bought their movie tickets. Though they were almost 20 minutes late, they didn't miss anything as the previews went on forever. The show was great, though Abby couldn't really enjoy it, always feeling like a hand was about to land on her shoulder and bust them. Katie giggled and lusted openly without a care in the world.
It was after three when they got out, Abby suddenly realizing that the hour-fifty runtime had been extended by the film's late start. "Damn the previews," she told Katie. "We're late!"
Sure enough, Mrs. Crenshaw had assembled the whole class in the lobby and was ready to call out the national guard for the two missing girls. It was just their bad luck she was looking toward the front doors when they marched in.
"Where have you been?" she screamed, running over to them. "I was about to call the cops!"
"Uh, we just went for some air," Katie said. "It's stuffy in here and my stomach's not feeling so good."
It was a feeble story and the three of them knew it. Abby was chalk white, too terrified to lie. Mrs. Crenshaw sniffed them suspiciously.
"Is that butter I smell? What is that?" She did her bloodhound act again. "Ah, it's movie theatre popcorn!"
"That's from last night," Katie said quickly, but once Mrs. Crenshaw had a scent she wasn't about to give it up. She soon found the ticket stubs, which had the date and time printed on them, and the jig was up.
The bus ride back to school was miserable for Abby, made worse by Katie's chipper nonchalance. "Ask for the paddle," she kept telling Abby. "Principal Perry's a pussycat."
He certainly didn't look it, being a heavy Santa Claus-like man with a full gray beard. The paddle was no joke either: 18-inches of solid pine with enough shellac on it to last a century.
"I guess a spanking is better than detention," said Katie sadly, batting her baby blues and looking like she was about to faint from the horror of it.
"You know the drill. It's six licks if you don't want Saturday detention," he said grimly. "Or three for a half day."
"I'll take six, but not too hard," said Katie, choking on her words. "You know how... sensitive... I am back there." She tossed her golden tresses and glanced behind at her thrust out pert little bottom.
It was a sexy pose that Abby felt she couldn't have managed in a lifetime, despite having a lot more assets to work with. She just wasn't that kind of girl. She was more comfortable at a chess match than flirting with a boy, let alone a grown man.
Principal Perry couldn't take his eyes off the blond's pert sitter. Katie's jeans, as usual, had been painted on with a fine brush. He reached for the paddle.
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