by Frank Martinet
It was Texas and it was hot. Though Shari had only been away for a couple of months, she'd already managed to forget about the heat. It came back to her in a sweltering wave and she decided the first thing she was gonna do when she got home was to shower and get out of her snug denim jeans and into something cooler.
The second she got through the door, however, she was greeted by her brothers, Jake and Thom. After some bear hugs and teasing about turning into a California hippie, Jake produced the family paddle. It was a narrow board almost two feet long, varnished and well-used.
"Gotta welcome you home properly, Sis," grinned her big brother.
Shari frowned. "We still playing that old game?" she muttered as though she hadn't thought about it the whole ride from the airport. She'd expected her pa to do the honors, but it wasn't too surprising her brothers had volunteered. She'd have done the same if she'd gotten home first.
She shrugged and leaned against the pony wall by the front door, her shapely ass rounding into position as she braced herself.
"We'll each give you six," added Thom.
"Oh come on," groaned Shari, but her mild protest was cut off by the booming sound of hardwood meeting jean-clad butt. The familiar sting flowed through her cheeks, spicier than she remembered, especially since it wasn't even on bare skin. Damn, if little play swats like this hurt, she was really out of practice. That did not bode well for her weekend.
Jake was a big boy at 6 feet 2 inches and he swung the paddle like a Texan. Though the family welcoming tradition was supposed to be a mere behavioral warning, the kids all did their best to make each other earn extras by extracting a swear word or paddle dodge. It was a game of sorts and not one Shari wanted to lose.
She gritted her teeth through six cracks of the wood, each building up the burn in her behind, so there was water in her eyes when Thom took his turn. He wasn't much smaller than Jake and only a year younger at age 20. He must have been practicing in that fraternity of his, because his spanks hurt.
At least right then a part of Shari regretted choosing California for college, where the sororities were all docile and pretend and full of touchy-feely snowflakes who thought breaking a nail was a national crisis. If she'd stayed in Texas she could have joined a real sorority where paddles were more than decoration. Then she'd be in shape for this home visit.
Despite her lack of recent discipline, Shari still bled Texan red, and she swallowed her discomfort and made it through the little welcome home spanking. Her butt was hot and swollen when the boys finished, but she shrugged it off.
"Maybe next time, pussies," she said, turning away to get her luggage so they wouldn't see her eyes were wet.
"I bet you've got plenty coming from Pa this weekend," Jake said.
"I suppose. He say anything?" Shari kept her voice light, but she was actually nervous. Part of her agreement to be allowed to attend college out of state was regular trips home with accrued punishments doled out during each visit. She was certain she must have earned at least a few spankings in her two months away, but it was hard to know exactly what her father had calculated. Only being here a few days, she might be spending more time with her pants down than up.
"Oh yeah, he's on the warpath," said Jake. "Got off the phone with the dean this morning and he's been muttering to himself ever since."
"Shit!" said Shari, without thinking. Then she saw her brothers' grins and groaned. "Oh come on, you're not going to tell Pa, are you?"
"Two more each," said Jake.
"Bare," added Thom.
Shari sighed. Four was less than half what her dad would give her for swearing, so it was a good deal. "Come on," she said, heading toward her bedroom. "I was gonna get out of these sticky clothes and shower, so you might as well do it then."
Her room was the same as ever. She put her bag down - Thom had kindly carried the roller - and began to strip. She kicked off her shoes, tore off her sweaty top, and slipped off the thick jeans that were suffocating her. Her panties were minute thongs, but she didn't even bother asking if she could keep them on. She knew the answer would be no and her brothers might just add on a swat or two for protesting.
"You're barely pink," said Jake, lining up the paddle as his sister bent over the end of her bed. She was a slender girl, fit and athletic, but there was an exciting femininity to her body, especially in the hips and bum. Her ass wasn't Texas-big, but it was sweetly round and jutting with two perfect half-spheres.
Jake smashed the thick pine board into these, crushing the mounds ruthlessly. Excruciating jabs of pain shot through Shari and she reflected that the over-jeans spanks now seemed dim and faint, a relief in comparison. A second swing of the wood left her bottom on red alert, every nerve firing and her cheeks twitching with heat.
Shari said nothing, forcing herself to be rock still. She waited as the paddle was passed over to Thom, who tried to outdo his big brother. The two spanks came fast, one right after the other, as he hoped to get her to move without permission. She was too wily for that, though she definitely was tempted. She drooled at the thought of being allowed to rub her steaming buttocks.
Jake made her wait a few extra seconds before he nodded, releasing her. Shari didn't say anything - she just continued stripping, losing her bra and everything else, and padding down the hall to the bathroom nude.
The shower was heavenly. She hadn't been thinking about it cooling off her heated bottom, but it was perfect. By the time she emerged and dried off, she felt much better. Now she just had to face her parents and possibly get those cheeks set on fire again!
Dressed in a towel, she returned to her room. She found some of her old clothes and put them on - a lightweight blouse, thin nylon panties, and navy shorts that barely reached her thighs. Though they fit more snugly than she remembered, they were still comfortable, like soccer shorts.
She glanced at her booty in the mirror before leaving the room, wondering if her ass had grown in California. She couldn't think why that would happen. She was 18 now and fully grown, wasn't she? And her diet hadn't changed that much. In many ways it was healthier, though as a college student, she wasn't exactly consistent.
Downstairs, Shari found her father in his study. He was on the phone, clearly a business call, so she left him and went down the hall to the ground-floor master. It was empty, so she wandered, looking for her mom. She thought it a little odd that she hadn't been there to greet her, but then her brothers had done a bang-up job of that!
Not finding her mother in the house, Shari went outside. She didn't know why her mom would want to be out in the heat, but there she was, by the pool. Mrs. Garnett was just past 40, though if asked she claimed to be just below that number, a 21-year-old son not withstanding. She was still a spectacular beauty, more full-figured now than in her cheerleading days, with a cute face and voluptuous figure. She could have passed as a trophy wife.
"Just where have you been?" she said to Shari, taking a sip of what might have been iced tea. "Your brothers said you arrived 20 minutes ago."
"I took a shower and changed. I was a mess from this heat."
"It's not hot. It's not even 90."
"Sure feels hot to me." Shari bent and kissed her mother and then sat on the recliner next to her and looked out at the pool. The water looked cool and inviting, but Shari had just cleaned up. Maybe she'd take a dip later, after supper.
For a few minutes she was grilled by her mother about all things school, love life, and travel. Shari shared just enough info to not appear close-mouthed, but not so much she'd get herself in trouble. What her parents didn't know literally wouldn't hurt her.
Still, there were things that couldn't be avoided. Her father had arranged for all her teachers to email him with the details of her grades, and he'd also talked to the dean and dormitory head. There was more than enough damaging material there for Shari's trip home to involve multiple sessions over the parental lap.
"We might as well get started," said her mother. She pointed to the penknife near the pitcher of tea. "I'm sure your father has plans for your bottom this evening, but I'll till the land with a good switching. Get those shorts down and cut yourself three good switches."
"Three!" gasped Shari.
"One is a spare. Now hurry up, dear. You've been gone two months, so I don't think one switch is enough."
Shari sighed and stood. She knew her mother was right. Two months was a long time for a Texas girl to go without a switching, but getting a double dose still rankled, especially with whatever her father had planned for her later.
The shorts slipped down easily enough, followed by the tiny panties. Shari left her tennis shoes on and took her time wiggling the garments off her ankles. She left everything in a pile on her chair, grabbed the knife, and wandered out into the back yard.
Her parents' property was large, so there weren't any neighbors near, which was good. But if a visitor or passerby happened to see the college girl walking around bare-assed, it wouldn't be the first time. Around here, it'd hardly be noticed.
It took her about ten minutes to find several good hazel switches. She knew the quality her mother expected: arm-long branches, thin and willowy, and as sturdy as garden canes. They would sting and welt and burn; Shari figured her mother could get at least two dozen lashes out of each twig, so her bottom was in for a trial.
She used the knife to cut off any stems and peel off the skin, creating three long thin lashes. These she returned to her mother. Her heart rate increased as she reluctantly got into position, ankles nearly two yards apart as she bent low with her hands on the foot of her recliner. This pose really pooched up her bum and separated the cheeks, which was ideal for switching since it allowed the thin sticks to bite into her most tender portions.
If Shari hadn't been a true Texan, she'd have hated switchings, but they - like the hardwood paddle - were part of life here as much as the heat and the dust. She'd grown up being switched and paddled and while it wasn't fun like a birthday party, it certainly wasn't boring.
Her mother flexed one of the branches and then brought it up and around and across her daughter's bare bottom. It made a sharp hissing sound followed a smart zap as it connected. Shari gave a jump as though electrocuted. There was nothing quite like the sting of a good switch. It was somehow both intense and mild at the same time. She thought it was because the pain was so focused into a narrow line. The paddle hit her whole ass and set it on fire and it stung all over.
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