I had broken the rules against staying out late, underage drinking, and lying to her. I had committed three separate offenses that would each earn me a spanking if they had been done separately. That was not negotiable.
I actually didn't mind the thought of being spanked. I liked getting a good hard spanking, but I liked my boyfriends to do it. My only complaint with them was that none of them would spank me hard enough. I wouldn't have to worry about that, but still I wasn't looking forward to it.
Still, I was going to be spanked and there was no way out of it. Still, I had to try to negotiate the terms.
Not the duration of the spanking of course. Even questioning that would make it longer and harder. She was the sole judge of how long and how hard I was to be spanked, and whether the spanking would be with her hand, a hairbrush, a paddle, a belt or all four.
“I just don't think I should be spanked in front of Jeff,” I said.
Jeff is my step brother. He was more apt to get in trouble than me for the simple reason that he is not as adept at hiding his crimes as I am. He was spanked a lot more than I was because he gets caught so much more often. I have a better record at covering up for myself. Jeff had been spanked probably a dozen times in the last couple of years, whereas I hadn't been spanked at home in well over a year. He had watched me being spanked then, of course, just as I'd watched him being spanked every time he'd been taken across our step mom's knee.
“Jeff didn't think he should be spanked in front of you last month either,” she said.
“That's different.”
“I don't think it is,” she said.
“We had this discussion the last time you were spanked,” she said. “I think you know what the conclusion we reached that time was.”
“Yes ma'am,” I said.
“If you don't want to be spanked in front of your brother, don't do anything to be spanked for,” she said.
“Yes ma'am,” I said. Jeeze, I said I remembered.
“But not naked,” I said.
“Was Jeff naked when I spanked him last time?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“How about the time before that?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Has there been a time when he wasn't naked when I spanked him?” She asked me.
“No ma'am,” I said. “Not that I remember.”
“When I spanked him three times in a week the very month you turned eighteen he was naked every single time, with you watching young lady. When I spank you tonight he will be watching.” She said.
“Couldn't it just be over my panties?” I asked. “I'll behave from now on, I promise.”
“I'm sure you mean that,” she said.
“I do. Really mom.”
“You lied to me, Anne. Lying gets you spanked.”
“Yes ma'am, I know, but...”
“You stayed out past your curfew and sneaked in late, and you'd been drinking. You could just as easily have gotten into an accident and been killed. You know my rules on drinking.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“And you drank anyway.”
“Yes ma'am. I'm sorry.”
“I'm sure you are,” she said. She took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. I couldn't stand that for long. I felt tears forming, then pouted as they ran down my cheeks.”
“You're very good at crying and feeling sorry for yourself,” she said.
“Please, mom.”
“Stop it Anne,” she said. “Not one more word about it," she said. "You've gotten away with a lot of things lately, but you're not getting away with this."
“Yes ma'am.” I said. That was that then. My negotiations had failed. I had tried but failed.
Jeff wasn't that much comfort either. We were in the living room at eight thirty waiting for our stepmom to come downstairs and give me what for. I, naturally, was complaining about having to get a spanking.
“You know Mom,” he said. “You know how she is about the rules. Anyway, you shouldn't have been out drinking.”
“Says the boy who was caught with a twelve pack under his bed.”
“Which was half yours,” he said. “You just lucked out that they weren't hidden under your bed.”
Which they never would have been because I was way too careful for that. I didn't even know he had the beer under his bed until Mom found them there. I expected him to hide them somewhere in the garage, or under some junk in the basement. No wonder he got spanked so often.
“Anyway, I'll bet you're looking forward to seeing me naked,” I said. “I wonder if you told Mom I was out with Karen and Ted.”
“You know I didn't,” he said. “If I wanted to get you in trouble I could do it a dozen times a week.”
I knew that was true. He kept me out of trouble a lot by covering for me when I was doing something that I knew I shouldn't be doing. Neither of us ever tattled on the other. We hadn't made a pact not to or anything, we just didn't like getting each other in trouble. I knew that he wasn't looking forward to my getting spanked either. He might enjoy seeing me naked, of course. He hadn't denied that. Not that he hadn't seen me naked before. Just not lately.
He certainly hadn't seen me naked since I'd shaved down there. Neither had Mom. I was worried about that. Girls didn't shave their pussies for no reason. I could say it was for wearing a bathing suit, of course, but it was mid March. We wouldn't be going to the beach until June. at least, and not even to the lake until Memorial day. Still, she probably knew that I wasn't a virgin. She'd talked to me about safe sex often enough.
“Did Mom ever talk to you about safe sex?” I asked Jeff.
“Of course. And she had Uncle Frank talk to me too.”
“Uncle Frank?” I said. I couldn't help laughing. I couldn't imagine Uncle Frank, mom's brother, knowing anything about sex. He must, of course, otherwise why would he need Aunt Donna, or rather why would Aunt Donna need him? He wouldn't have been my first choice for a lover, but she must have seen something in him that I didn't.
“Do you think Aunt Donna is sexy?” I asked.
“What a dumb question,” he said.
“She has nice legs,” I said. “And big boobs.”
“She's my aunt,” he said.
“Only by marriage, and your step aunt by marriage at that,” I said.
“She's my aunt,” he said. As if that was that.
“I sure wouldn't want to fuck Uncle Frank,” I said.
“God, Annie.”
“Don't be such an old lady,” I said.
“You're not supposed to want to fuck him,” he said. “He's your uncle.”
“My step uncle by marriage,” I said.
There was a moment of silence. I sighed. I heard Mom's footsteps on the stairs. I waited until she was in the room before I stood though. Jeff stood as well. He has very good manners most of the time.
“Go get the hairbrush off my dresser Anne,” she said.
I walked calmly out of the room and went up the stairs, into Mom's bedroom and picked up the hairbrush off the bed. I don't believe she brought it to brush her hair. It is too perfectly shaped for smacking backsides to be a good hairbrush. There is never any hair stuck in the bristles either. Of course Mom is a very neat person. She might pick the hair out every time she brushes her hair, but if that is true, why aren't all the brushes completely hair free as well?
I returned with the brush and gave it to her.
“Go and bring a chair from the dining room,” she told me. “One of the side ones.”
I don't suppose that she chose the chairs especially for spanking purposes. They had padded seats, which were probably more comfortable to sit in while holding a grown daughter over her lap. Or a grown son, for that matter. Jeff outweighs me quite a bit, and is several inches taller. I hadn't really given much thought to the logistics of a hundred twenty pound woman spanking a hundred sixty pound six footer over her knees before. She never looked uncomfortable spanking Jeff though. Maybe she hid her discomfort.
He certainly looked uncomfortable. I knew that in a couple of minutes I'd be looking very uncomfortable myself. I'd probably be uncomfortable for days in fact. Mom hadn't sent me after a belt, which I took as a good sign. At least I hoped it was a good sign. Not that she can't spank hard enough with a brush, or her palm for that matter.
Mom had me place the chair sideways in front of the sofa facing the wall. That position meant that I would be getting my spanking with my backside totally exposed to my stepbrother.
I had been thinking about it all day but I still blushed bright red when she told me to take my clothes off and put them on the sofa. I took off my shoes first, then my socks. My fingers were shaking as I unbuttoned my blouse, removed it and folded it before laying it on the sofa cushion at the far end of the sofa from where Jeff sat. Then I took off my jeans. They were tight and I had to wiggle a lot to get out of them. I peeked and saw Jeff trying not to laugh at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.
After that though I felt a little braver. I took off my bra. I hoped that he wouldn't notice that my nipples were stiff. If he said anything about it later I'd tell him that it was because the room was cold. I took my panties off last, stepping out of them quickly and walking back to stand in front of Mom. She had taken her seat in the dining room chair and was waiting for me. I had to endure a five minute lecture, despite the fact that I'd already been lectured about it.
At least she hadn't said anything about the fact that I had shaved my pussy. I had gone for the totally bare look, mostly because I was nervous about shaving my lips and put that off until I had some practice on the rest.
“Get around here and get over my lap,” she said. I did as I was told. I moved to the side of the chair and lowered myself over her lap. My feet touched the floor on one side and my hands on the other. She pushed my backside up a little to get me where she wanted me, and put an arm around my waist to hold me in place.
She smacked me with her hand. I knew that this didn't mean she'd decided to spare me the brush. She likes to warm the backside a little bit before getting down to the serious part of the spanking. I cried of course, starting at the first smack. I'd be begging soon. As soon as possible in fact. I intended to make myself appear as sorrowful as possible. I felt her put her hand between my legs and try to spread them apart. I didn't want to spread my legs. My pussy was wet, and I was having enough trouble fighting off an orgasm. I kept them as tightly together as I could in that position. She smacked my thighs.
“You've earned yourself half a dozen with the belt after,” she said. “Want to try for six more?”
“No ma'am,” I said.
“I want your ass up and your legs open, young lady. You're going to get the brush on the inside of your thighs as well.”
“Yes ma'am,” I said.
I couldn't see my stepbrother but I swear I could feel his eyes on my pussy. I wondered if he felt my eyes on his balls when he was over Mom's knees. I tried not to stare at his cock when he stood in front of Mom, but I was supposed to look, and how could I not?
My bottom was warmed up by sharp stinging hand smacks, then my thighs got a few smacks to get them ready for what was to come as well. The inner part of my thighs were the most sensitive and made me squeal the loudest when she popped them. I was crying for real by the time she started to use the brush on me.
She did an expert job of spanking my butt. She didn't miss a square millimeter. She began with a series of alternate smacks to each cheek, then concentrated on one cheek at a time until I was howling in pain and begging her to stop. Every so often she would punctuate a series of smacks with a nice blow to the thigh. I moved around a lot while she smacked away at me, but she never lost control of me or allowed me to move far out of position. Just when I thought that it was never going to end, she told me to get up.
I got up and stood there waiting for her to tell me to move into the corner for however long she deemed proper. I'd forgotten that I'd been promised the belt as well until she asked Jeff to let her borrow his.