I recently took my kids back to school shopping – they managed to escape without a spanking during the process. However, one back to school season, many years ago, me and my big sister Melanie were not so lucky.
My mom had to take all four of us to get new school clothes and school supplies. My twin brother and I would have been 10 and my sisters were seven and 13 respectively.
Melanie was obsessed with fashion – she had fantasies of new designer jeans and outfits that cost a fortune. Even if all of Mom’s back to school money had been solely for her, I doubt she could have been appeased.
The rest of us did not want to go at all. There were precious few days of summer left and we did not want to spend one trying on clothes. So there we were, three sullen children and one mad with greed.
My little sister and my twin brother managed to put as good a face on it as possible and were pleasant enough to avoid mom’s wrath. I was sullen and pouty all day. I rolled my eyes, talked back and said quite a few ‘whatevers’. Looking back, I’m surprised Mom didn’t drag me straight to a changing room for an attitude adjustment.
Meanwhile, my sister complained about the clothes she was getting and kept asking for things that were way beyond our means, then accused Mom of being cheap or selfish. Both us girls were warned multiple times to straighten up – but we just wouldn’t listen.
Finally, Mom had had enough. She turned around and hissed at us: “That is it! The moment we get home, you two are getting a spanking!”
My face turned beet red – I was sure that every single person in the mall had heard our fate. It seemed like they were are staring at me and laughing. OK, not really but it felt that way. Someone who did hear was my bratty little sister. She had a mean, gloating smile on her face for the rest of the trip. My sister began to protest but Mom stopped her. “Melanie, you don’t have to wait for your spanking until we get home if you don’t want to?” That shut her up.
We finished shopping and went home. My little sister was gloating the whole way, while Melanie and I were fretting. As for my brother, he has always hated confrontation. He felt bad for us, I’m sure, but more than anything I think he would have rather been somewhere else.
When we got home, my mom ordered us to ‘get ready’. As I’ve shared before in a previous story, that meant a bathroom break if we needed one, then removing everything below the waist and standing in a corner of Mom’s room. I went to the bathroom – Melanie didn’t. When I got into Mom’s bedroom, my sister already had her pants and underwear off. As soon as I entered the room she clamped her hands down over her pussy.
“Quit looking at me!” she hissed. “I’ve seen one before – what’s your problem?” I sneered. My sister had become very modest when she began puberty and I just didn’t get it. We both retreated to a corner and awaited our doom.
Mom duly arrived, holding the ping pong paddle. Believe it or not, I was relieved – I was afraid that we would get the strap. We got a lecture sabout what absolute brats we had been, then Melanie was ordered over Mom’s lap. She began spanking Melanie all over her bare backside with the paddle. I have to admit, it was kind of fun to see my big sister being taken down a peg and watching her butt go from white to pink to red.
It would have been even more fun, of course, had I not known that I was next. My sister blubbered and hollered. Of the four of us, she was always the most vocal when she was spanked. She kicked her legs wildly, and I could now see plainly everything she was previously trying to hide – a fact I was sure to point out to her later, much to her chagrin.
I was surprised to see that my sister had started to grow hair down there – maybe that was the big secret she had tried to hide. Finally, the spanking was over and Mom released her. Melanie jumped around, trying to rub the sting out of her bottom and now with zero concern for her modesty. I made sure to stare at her privates just to mess with her – that’s what little sisters are for!
After Melanie had regained her composure, she fled the room – and then it was just me and Mom. I obediently lay down across her lap and she started paddling me.
It was always my goal not to cry or kick while being spanked – I guess I didn’t want to give Mom the satisfaction of such reactions. Unfortunately, this was a goal at which I always failed. I was quiet for about the first six whacks, then came some little whimpers, followed by some yips and yelps. By about the 15th spank I was openly crying, and the kicking started soon afterwards.
In all, I probably got about 30 licks with the paddle – after which I did the customary spanked child’s ‘dance’ and retreated to my own room to have a good cry.
Contributor: Nina