Disaster at the mall

By the time I was 13, my parents had started to phase out spanking as a way of punishing me when I misbehaved, in favour of grounding me or taking away privileges.

As you may remember from my other stories, I had a good friend named Hannah – we spent a lot of time together and our parents knew each other from church.

Most of the time, Hannah and I both enjoyed school and did well, but there were a few rare times when we thought it boring. This particular time, we had a themed history week at our school. It was interesting to start with but towards the end of the week, we were both becoming very tired of the subject.

On the Thursday of that week, there was a scheduled school trip to a local museum. Hannah and I decided we would play truant from this and instead go to a mall that was close by. The plan was that when we got to the museum, we would ask to go to the toilet and while our teacher was busy with the other kids, we would sneak off and not be missed.

At first, our plan appeared to have worked perfectly. We had a great time at the mall, looking at clothes, games and DVDs, and we got some lunch there too.

After we ate, we decided to go look at some more stuff. It was then that our luck ran out – we came around a corner and walked straight into Hannah’s mom.

Naturally, she was very surprised and not at all pleased to see us. She asked us why we were not in school, but before we could come up with an answer, her phone rang. It was our teacher, telling her that Hannah was lost.

Hannah’s mom informed the teacher that far from being lost, Hannah was at the mall and I was there too. She added: “It looks like they’ve played truant on you, but don’t worry, I will take care of this and the girls will be dealt with.”

She hung up, then grabbed both Hannah and myself by an ear each and marched us out to her car. Once we had got in the vehicle, she scolded us soundly and added: “Hannah, you’ll be getting the spanking of a lifetime when I get you home. And Sarah, I daresay you’re in for a very sore bottom from your daddy too.”

The rest of the ride home was silent and miserable. Hannah’s mom pulled up outside my home and escorted me to my front door. My own mother opened it and Hannah’s mom told her what we had done. Mom yelled at me and sent me to me room to wait for my father – accompanied by three hard smacks to the seat of my jeans as I went.

It seemed like a year until my dad got home, but eventually I was called down for dinner. During the meal, I got another scolding, this time from my father.

“Sarah, I’m really disappointed with your behaviour,” he said. “Once we’ve finished eating, you are to go back up to your room, get ready for bed and I shall be up to give you a thorough spanking.”

Mom’s tasty food turned to ashes in my mouth as I ate, and I couldn’t finish my meal as I was so scared about what was about to happen to me. In the end, I excused myself and went up to my room. I stripped off and changed into my pyjamas, then sat on the edge of the bed waiting for my daddy to come and spank me like a little girl.

Eventually I heard him coming up the stairs and the door opened. “Stand up, Sarah.” I obeyed and he sat down, pulling me close to his side as he did so. He put a firm finger under my chin and made me look him straight in the eye.

“Sarah, I pay a lot of money for you to go to a good school. I don’t pay for you to play truant when you don’t feel like learning. I can promise you that you are certainly going to ‘feel like learning’ in a moment, because this spanking and the sore bottom it brings will teach you a valuable lesson. Do you understand what I am saying?” I had already begun to cry quietly with the anticipation of my punishment but I managed to nod obediently through my tears.

“All right. Bend over my knee, please.” I did as I was told and felt Dad adjust my position slightly so my bottom was right on top of his lap. Unlike many children, I was never smacked bare bottom but Dad had a good hard hand and the thin fabric of my cotton pyjamas provided little to no protection for my tender young rear end.

I have to say, it was probably the hardest spanking I ever got. My bottom was quickly set on fire and I cried like a little girl as I was punished. Dad generally gave me double my age in spanks, and now at 13, 26 slaps across my rear seemed like an eternity, although I suppose it only really lasted a couple of minutes or so.

After the spanking, Dad held me close as I cried out my guilt and shame. He shushed me enough to tell me that he didn’t like spanking me and that he still loved me, but when it was clear I was going to be crying for some time yet, he kissed me on the forehead and said: “Right – time for bed. Good night, and I hope that sore bottom has taught you a lesson.”

He left the room and I went over to my dressing table mirror. I dropped my pyjama pants to look at my bare buttocks and they were a deep red colour all over. I had been smacked very well for my trouble. I hitched my PJs back up carefully, then crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

Next day at school, Hannah and I were both sent to the principal, who suspended us both for a week. Any thoughts of that being a holiday were dashed when we got home, as our parents informed us that we were both grounded for that week so we could concentrate on our school work.

On the final night of my grounding, Daddy came up to my room again at bedtime and solemnly administered a second spanking, just as hard as the first, to make sure I would think twice before ever playing truant again.

Contributor: Sarah

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