Strawberries and tomatoes

I previously wrote about the first time Hannah’s dad spanked me during our summer holiday – but during those two weeks, it was not the only sore bottom Hannah and I received.

After we had been spanked for breaking the window of the greenhouse, Hannah and I were good children for some days. However, one day shortly afterwards, while playing outside in the garden we discovered some apples on the ground. We began to investigate where they had come from, because the garden of our summer house didn’t have an apple tree.

We discovered that the neighbour’s house garden had just such a tree, standing close to our own garden. To us, it looked like no-one was home there, so we sneaked over into this neighbouring garden to have a look around.

The neighbouring house was almost like the one Hannah’s parents had rented. The garden was also almost same size, but there was a lot of fruit – strawberries as well as apples.

Hannah remarked that it would be sad if the fruit went rotten while there was nobody there, so we should help them. She began to taste the strawberries, and I did the same.

Suddenly we heard a voice. “What are you two during here?” We froze, then looked around. On the porch of the house was a woman around the same age as Hannah’s mom.

She strode up, and took hold of us. “What are you going in my garden and stealing my strawberries?” Of course, we didn’t really have an answer for that.

The woman demanded to know where we came from. Hannah pointed at our own summer house. With a firm grip on each of our arms, the woman walked us back home.

She knocked on the door, which was opened by Hannah’s dad. He didn’t look best pleased to see us under escort. “Do these two little thieves belong here?” she asked. “What’s the matter?” Hannah’s dad asked. “I caught them both in my garden and stealing my strawberries.”

Of course, Hannah’s dad immediately apologised. “Once you’re gone, these two children are going to get something that will make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he told the woman, and to make his intentions totally clear, her turned to us and said: “Girls, go to your room and think about what you did, because you’ll both be getting a good spanking in a few minutes.”

It was bad enough that we had been caught out and were going to be punished, but additionally embarrassing that the lady knew that we were going to be put over Hannah’s dad’s knee like naughty little toddlers.

We sat in our room for about 20 minutes before footsteps were heard and Hannah’s dad came. He sat on the same chair as he had used the last time he spanked us. We got a big lecture about leaving our own garden without permission and, of course, for stealing the fruit.

“Girls,” he concluded, “you have both been really, really naughty this time and you are both going to get a very hard spanking for this. I’m going to give you both triple your age in smacks.” We would have been either six or seven, so it was either 18 or 21 spanks for each of our bottoms.

He beckoned Hannah to come to home, put her over his lap and began to spank her hard. Hannah cried a lot during her punishment – it was very obvious that her father was making sure her bottom really stung.

“Let that be a lesson to you!” he finally said, and let her up. “Lie down on your bed and think about what you did while I give Sarah her turn.”

I approached him obediently, and he gently but firmly put me in the spanking position. I felt his left hand pull my shorts tight against my little bottom and then the punishment began.

As I had suspected, Hannah’s dad was really giving it hot and strong this time. The only mercy was it wasn’t on our bare bottoms. I bawled like a much smaller child as I was done, and then I too was sent to lie on my bed.

“You two can stay there for the next hour and think about your behaviour. You can think yourself lucky you didn’t get the belt or your pants taken down.”

We lay there, side by side, crying hard at first and then softly sobbing and sniffing as we got control of ourselves. Eventually, we quietened down enough to examine the ‘damage’. We both slipped down our shorts and briefs and showed each other our bare bottoms, which were both as red as a ripe tomato.

When our hour of reflection was up, Hannah’s dad came back. We both got a hug and were told we were forgiven.

We didn’t play outside again that day but the next we were outside as usual when to our horror the woman next door walked by. Hannah’s dad was there and we were made to apologise and tell the lady we had both had our bottoms smacked, though from the crying and yelling that had come from our house the previous day, I’m sure she had been satisfied as to that detail herself!

“Well, girls,” she said, “I’m glad you both got a good sore behind for your trouble – maybe it will help you to behave better in future.” She strode off as Hannah and I stood there, our faces still red from making our confession.

Contributor: Sarah

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