Whacks and water

After reading about school punishments in some recent postings it is time for me to come out of the woodwork and report my own experience from high school.

I was great friends with a neighbour’s daughter and we did everything together almost like sisters would. Unfortunately, that meant we got into trouble too!

In our freshman year of high school, we blew off a number of classes and had to go to remedial summer school. That wasn’t so bad but one day we caught trying to sneak off campus, and each of us received six swats of the paddle from the assistant school principal.  

We had to bend over the back of a chair and she gave us each our swats over our shorts. We left the office crying but by the time we went home that day the soreness in our bottoms had become tolerable and we put it all in the past.

That was, until we got home to my house where my mother and aunt, and my friend’s mother, were all waiting for us. The school called them and told them what happened and naturally our parents were really upset.

My friend’s mother told us: “You girls may have sore bottoms already but your problems are just beginning!” With that she ordered us to strip off all of our clothes. When we started to dawdle she told us to hurry up, unless we wanted our punishments to double.  

That left two teenage girls standing naked in the living room. It was horribly embarrassing – it was bad enough to stand naked in front of our mothers at that age but with my aunt present it was even worse.

I remember our breasts being bright white compared to our tanned skin. A matching triangular patch of white in our crotches outlined our pubic hair. Needless to say, our bottoms were not white – they were still pink from our earlier paddling. 

By now we were sobbing a bit. My friend was led over to the end of the couch and draped over the arm of it with her butt elevated.  She scrunched up her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide her breasts and kept her legs tightly together so as not to show anything more than her bottom.

Her mother reached over to a table and picked up a leather strap. It was about 3ft long and 3in wide, with a row of holes down the centre. She tapped it on her daughter’s bottom, then raised it high into the air before bringing it down with incredible force across my friend’s buttocks.

I had never witnessed another girl being spanked naked before and it was frightening. My friend’s bottom flattened out each time under the impact of the strap and she bucked violently up and down as her hands grabbed at the cushions on the couch, all the while wailing loudly. Two more smacks had her crying and pleading for her punishment to stop, as her butt grew a deeper shade of red with every swat.

After about seven swats she was kicking up a storm after each stroke and any illusions of modesty were gone. As she bucked up and down over the arm of the couch, her breasts wiggled and jiggled and as she kicked her genital area was also clearly on display.

By the last of 14 smacks, she was frantic and her pleas and begging was unintelligible. Her bottom was a deep red. My friend’s mother grabbed her daughter by the arm and pulled her upright from the couch. The poor girl danced from foot to foot, making her breasts bounce in a most obscene fashion.

Inevitably, it was then my turn. My mother draped me over the end of the couch, took hold of the strap and tapped it on my bottom. I was determined not to put on such an immodest display as my girlfriend. I told myself that I was nearly grown up and would take my punishment with an element of dignity.

The first smack on my bottom was blindingly painful. It was far worse than the hairbrush that I was normally spanked with and even much worse than the paddle that I had gotten at school. My whole butt burned and I could only gasp in pain before the second stroke hit.  

I twisted and turned and bucked up and down as I found myself begging for mercy. By the fourth smack I was a basket case – any thoughts of taking my punishment well were out the window and I was kicking after each stroke, probably putting on as much of a display as my friend had. 

After the last stroke I was limp over the end of the couch with my butt on fire and any concerns about modesty were totally ignored. As I stood up, tears dripped down my face and on to my breasts, as I hopped from one foot to another in a futile attempt to lessen the sting.

At least, I thought, our punishment was over. But then I my friend’s mother remarked to my aunt. “They’re all yours now!”

My aunt took one look at us and just said: “Upstairs to the bathroom.” Of course we were too frightened to disobey. Just as we got to the stairs, my brother came home from his job and found two naked girls, with very red and sore bottoms, in front of him. We both gasped in tried to cover ourselves up a bit, but my brother’s evil grin told me he had seen a lot of us anyway.

My mother cautioned my brother to stay downstairs for a while ‘unless you want some of what they’re getting’ and he walked into the living room, looking over his shoulder at us as he did so.

My aunt took us into bathroom and my friend let out a shriek when she saw a red enema bag on the counter. This was new to me but not, it seems, to my friend, who was clearly in great distress when she saw it. My aunt filled the bag with water and soap and connected a large round nozzle to it. Then my friend’s mother told her daughter to ‘get down and spread it’, at which command she began to bawl like a baby.

I watched in horror as my friend got down on her hands and knees on to a towel my aunt had spread on the bathroom floor. She was ordered to put her head down and bottom up. This left my friend in the most obscene position I could imagine, with everything exposed and on display. The white centre of her bottom crack, with its brown bud-like anus, was framed by the deep red skin of her thoroughly spanked buttocks.

My aunt took the bag, hung it from the shower curtain and rubbed some soap on the nozzle before pushing it into my friend’s bottom. She cried in distress. Then, with a click, the water flow was started and my friend let out another cry as she felt her bowels filling with the soapy water.

She begged for the flow to stop, protesting that the cramps were unbearable. All of this fell on deaf ears, of course. As the bag emptied, my friend’s stomach bulged to the point that she looked pregnant. Her cries and begging showed exactly how much distress she was in.

Finally, with a slight gurgle the bag was empty. My aunt pulled the nozzle out of my friend’s anus and told her to stand up. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she was begging to use the toilet. After five minutes, my aunt told her she could sit down.

Doing so, she looked frantically at us all and in a panic begged for us to leave the bathroom so she could release her enema. But that just brought snickers from the adults and her crying increased. After about a minute, she gave into the call of nature and released her enema with a terrified squeal. Finally, her mother told her to stand up and wipe her bottom.

By now my aunt had finished refilling the bag with soapy water and I was told to get into position. I was crying with shame, knowing exactly how exposed I was, and I let out a scream as the nozzle was painfully pushed into my anus.

I had never had an enema before and when the flow started I was devastated. I felt the water gush into me as cramps rolled through my abdomen. I wriggled and twisted to no avail – pleading for mercy which did not come.

Finally, the bag was empty and I was told to stand up. My cramping stomach was now as distended as my friend’s had been and I hopped frantically from foot to foot in horrible distress. I told my aunt I couldn’t hold it. She replied simply that if I couldn’t she would have to keep giving me a repeat dose until I did. Waiting for my aunt to say I could sit down was the longest five minutes of my life.

When I was given permission to sit on the toilet I sat down quickly but bounced up again as the sting of sitting down on a freshly strapped backside was awful. That caused the adults to laugh at my predicament. I sat down for a second time, now more slowly, my face grimaced in pain.  

I now understood the embarrassment of being watched while eliminating the enema and I cried in shame throughout the whole process.  Finally, my mother told me to get up and wipe my bottom.

Then we were both instructed to go downstairs and get dressed. But of course, our clothes were still in the living room – where my brother was.  We begged our parents to retrieve our clothing for us, to no avail. So we went down and got dressed in front of him as quickly as we could. My brother was grinning from ear to ear, and to top off my shame, I noticed a huge bulge developing in his pants.

My friend and I didn’t see each other for two days after this dreadful experience. We were both embarrassed by how much of each other’s bodies we had seen, but we did eventually show each other our bottoms. They were both still very tender and showing some bruising from the strap. That said, the enema was clearly the worst part, and I learned that this was quite a common punishment in my friend’s house.

Unsurprisingly, after that our dedication to studying greatly increased, and so did our grades. But to this day, my brother still occasionally tells me that he’ll never forgot the time he saw us both naked

Contributor: Brianne

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