by Frank Martinet
The two girls were glum as they hurried across the empty park.
"I can't believe we're so late," moaned Jordan. "I am so busted."
"Me too," said Connie, her dark-haired friend. "My dad made me swear I'd be home by eight. He's gonna break that board on my ass."
"How many do you think you'll get?"
"I don't know. A couple dozen, maybe more."
"That's it?"
"That's a hell of a lot. You haven't seen my dad's paddle. It's huge."
"I saw it last summer, remember? You showed it to me."
"No, that was the old one. The new one is even bigger and thicker. Hurts like hell."
Jordan tossed her long blond hair. "Maybe, but it's only a couple dozen spanks. I'd take that over one of my mom's hairbrush spankings any day."
"Are you crazy? That brush is tiny. It can't hurt much."
"One spank isn't bad, no, but Mom spanks me for like ten or fifteen minutes. It's awful."
"I'd still rather have that than one of my dad's paddlings," muttered Connie.
Jordan laughed. "Maybe we should trade!"
Their giggles faded as they arrived at Connie's house. She sighed, rubbed her butt ruefully, and said goodbye to her friend.
"Good luck."
"Yeah, you too."
Jordan hurried across the street to her own house. She knew she was dead the moment she opened the door. Her mother was on the sofa reading the paper, the hairbrush on the coffee table in front of her. Jordan was surprised her mom's glare hadn't ignited the newspaper.
"Uh, I can explain..." she began, faltering when she saw the look her mom gave her. "Uh, I'm, uh, late," she finished lamely, knowing she had no real excuse.
"Get your butt over here," said the woman, exchanging the paper for the brush. Despite Connie's criticisms of its size, the weapon looked uncomfortably formidable to the young blond girl. The thing was half an inch thick of solid mahogany and the flat back, not counting the sturdy handle, was the size of a blackboard eraser. The thing might look modest, but it hurt like hell.
"Mom please, I'm sixteen now. Isn't that a little old for spanking?"
"You know the rules. If you don't want to be spanked, then you come home on time."
"Please, it won't happen again, I swear it!"
"I'm sure it won't because I'm going to make sure you regret it. Now get over here and get those shorts down."
Though she wanted to go the other direction, Jordan was already gliding forward. She didn't know why, probably just habit or years of training, but she was too cowed to disobey. She hated her mother's spankings, but always seemed to find herself across the woman's lap every month or two. It was humiliating and painful.
When she reached her mother's side, Jordan began fiddling with the snap at the waistband of her khaki shorts. She wished she could keep them on, but she knew better than to even ask that. Her mom was mad enough already. The shorts dropped around her ankles and she stood there in skimpy white panties with a pink hem. She was a petite girl, slim with an athletic body, but her hips were developing nicely. They swelled out from her trim waist, widening her butt and making it look prominent for her size.
"Panties, too," said Mrs. Carson, and Jordan blushed. She bit back the urge to argue and reluctantly slid the final garment down to join the shorts. Blushing at the exposure of her lightly furred front, she quickly stretched herself out across her mother's legs. Her butt bubbled up cutely, the cheeks pale and smooth.
The heavy hairbrush patted one cheek grimly in warning, then rose and fell for real. Jordan gasped. The sting was intense. It was narrowly focused into just that one spot on her right buttock, but it sure hurt. Then the brush impacted her left cheek and the spanking was on. As she moaned and wiggled, the hairbrush did its damage. It was a blur of motion as it smacked down hard over and over and over, bobbing from one quivering mound to the other. It carefully painted every inch of buttock flesh a lovely pink and then started over, traversing the same areas of skin a second time. Each spank overlapped somewhat, so the pink blotches formed an interesting pattern of lights and darks. Some areas, such as the chubby base and fleshy peaks of the buttocks, got the worst of it, gradually turning crimson.
Of course, the spanking was just getting started - Mrs. Carson had only been spanking her daughter for a mere six minutes and there was plenty more to come. She worked hard, making sure she walloped every bit of exposed flesh soundly, even working on Jordan's bare thighs. She didn't stop until she'd spanked every spot at least a dozen times, and her daughter's frantic writhing had settled into an exhausted sobbing. Both buns were sizzling hot, the most well-worn areas a profound red.
"All right, I suppose that's enough," the woman finally said.
Across the street, dark-haired Connie was weeping similarly to her friend. She was stark naked, her slim body revealing a still developing young woman with the most modest of breasts. Her compact bottom was small, but very round. It bulged like a bubble, the twin cheeks as solid as Christmas hams. The surface of each was well-stained with vivid red and purple spoor, both buns radiating heat like a stove. Behind the sobbing girl stood a large man wielding a twenty-inch long pine board.
"Are you learning anything, Connie?" he growled.
"Yes sir! Please, I'm sorry," she wept.
"You still have five more coming, and I'm gonna make them hard."
Connie groaned and braced herself. The explosion of sound was drowned out by the awful fiery pain that swept through her backside. Her butt burned so hot she thought it might explode. Ten seconds later the board rapped against her butt again, and then again a moment later. Connie panted, her tears drained. There were only two licks left but she dreaded them more than anything. God, she hated that paddle!
Fifteen minutes later she was in the shower, still weeping a little, wincing as the cool water practically turned to steam as it passed over her fiery butt. She thought of her friend and wondered how Jordan was getting along. I'd like to see how she'd handle Dad's big paddle, she thought bitterly. She gently touched her scalded ass and groaned. Twenty-five swats had left her butt red and raw. She'd be sore for days.
Sunday afternoon the two girls met at Connie's house and compared notes. Or rather, bottoms. The two besties weren't shy and stripped off below the waist and stood side-by-side in front of the full-length mirror in Connie's room. Looking over their shoulders, they stared at each other's damaged rumps. One was small and round, the other wider and more plump, but both were severely sunburnt.
"Wow, your dad did a number on you," Jordan said.
"Looks like your mom's hairbrush is effective, too. Was it bad?"
"The worst. It went on forever and ever. At least your paddling didn't last very long. Only twenty-five spanks? Geez. I'd kill for that."
"Have you seen my butt? Look at that: I'm practically blistered. It might only be twenty-five, but each one is worth like a hundred with your mom's hairbrush."
"I'd still rather have that. At least it's over quickly."
"You're crazy," said Connie. "You don't know how easy you have it."
"Easy? Look at my ass! Does that look easy?"
Connie sighed. "I guess not. Still seems better than my dad's paddle, though."
"And you think I'm crazy? Come and have my mom put you over her knee and see how you feel then!"
"Do you think she would?" said Connie, her pretty face frowning with seriousness.
"For real?"
"Why not? Look, we can agree that both our butts got it really good, right? I honestly can't tell which of us got it worse. So it really shouldn't make any difference how we get spanked. I bet if your mom spanked me as bad as you got it my dad would be okay with it."
Jordan looked thoughtful. All she could think about was how much she hated her mom's method of spanking. Anything would be better than another one of those endless trips over her knee. Getting a few blasts with a big paddle, even if it hurt badly, would be so much better.
"Do you think your dad would paddle me?" she asked softly.
"Sure. Would your mom mind?"
"I don't think so. As long as I'm well-punished, she'd be okay with it."
The two stared at each other. "Are we serious?" said Connie.
"What are you thinking?"
"Let's ask them."
Jordan was horrified. "Now? I don't want another spanking!"
"Not now, you dingbat! For the future. The next time you're to get spanked, instead of your mom doing it, you come over here and get it from my dad. And I'll do the same with your mom."
"Really? That's not a bad idea."
"Of course it's not. It's brilliant. Only... we need to ask them now."
"Why now?"
Connie blushed a little. "We need to show them our butts so they can see that they each spank just as hard as the other. Otherwise they might not believe it and might not agree. I know my dad's particular - he wouldn't go along with the idea unless he thought I was getting just as hard of a spanking from your mom."
"Yeah, my mom's the same way." Jordan was thoughtful, thinking mainly of the humiliation of showing Connie's dad her bare butt and telling him how much she'd prefer being spanked by him. Still, it might be worth it. "Let's do it," she said excitedly. "Your dad is downstairs, right? Let's go ask him."
"And then we can ask your mother."
Two minutes later the girls were nervously knocking on Mr. Peterkin's office door. He appeared after a moment, his slight irritation at the interruption disappearing when he saw the girls' serious expressions.
"What's wrong?" he said urgently.
"Nothing, Dad," said Connie. "We just... we need to ask you something."
"All right. Come on in."
The man set himself in a chair and waved to the love seat. The girls didn't want to sit, however, and he suddenly smiled when he realized why. "Did your mother blister your bottom, too?" he asked Jordan.
The blond girl blushed and nodded. "Yes sir."
"That's actually what we want to talk to you about, Dad."
"Hey, you deserved it. Both of you. You were allowed to go to the party, but you knew you had to be home on time."
"I know, Dad. That's not the issue. The thing is--" Connie looked at her friend and hesitated. "Jordan's mom, she spanks with a hairbrush."
"Good for her."
"I guess. But Jordan hates it."
The man looked at the blond girl, who wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "It's awful, sir. Really bad. She does it with me over her lap like a baby. I... I wish she'd use a big paddle like you do."
"Ah. Well, that's your mother's preference. I'm not going to interfere with her choice of discipline method."
"Dad, we were thinking... maybe next time Jordan needs to be spanked, you could do it."
"With your big paddle," added Jordan.
"What? That's ridiculous. I'm not spanking someone else's kid."
"What if she agreed to it, Mr. Peterkin?"
"Did she?"
Jordan blushed. "We haven't asked her yet. But I'm sure she would, once she sees how hard you paddle."
The big man scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, if she said it was okay, I suppose it would be all right, but it's a mighty strange request. Have you seen the paddle I use?"
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