It was Friday afternoon, and I could feel my stomach tying itself in
knots as I slowly walked home. I had really hoped that Miss Winters wouldn't
notice my little cheat sheet when I pulled it out in class, but the old bag was
a lot more observant than she usually is. She was not happy when she spotted
it, lecturing me in front of the entire class about how a good girl should
behave. She even gave me detention, and I'd spent the last hour writing “I must
not cheat” on the blackboard while she glared at me over her glasses. My arm
stung like crazy by the time she let me go, but it wasn't my arm I was worried
about. It was my bottom.
My parents had always followed that old line about “In trouble at
school, in trouble at home.” The school didn't believe in corporal punishment anymore,
but my parents certainly did! And being put in detention for cheating would
definitely earn me a spanking. As I walked, I started chewing my fingernail and
wondering how I'd get it. If dad was home, he'd probably take off his belt and
bend me over a chair. He'd strap me until I was sobbing loudly. If I was lucky,
he'd still be at work, but that meant being put across mum's knee for a dose of
her old wooden hairbrush. Both options made my bottom tingle just thinking
about it. Whatever happened, I certainly wouldn't be sitting comfortably this
weekend.
When I came home, I put my backpack down near the door and spotted a
note on the kitchen table. What was it now? Had the school phoned them, and
these were their instructions for my punishment? Had they laid some terrible
plans for my poor posterior? I picked up the note, and almost laughed out loud
with joy. My parents had been planning a quick trip out of town during the
weekend. They were supposed to leave Saturday morning, but had decided to take
a few hours off work and leave today. There were some things about money in the
jar and not spending it all on pizza, but I didn't care. They didn't know about
my detention! My butt was safe.
That was the moment that my little brother chose to enter the kitchen.
“Hi, Debra,” he said, reaching for a glass. “Late today?” Jack was three years
younger than me, but his growth spurt meant that he was about the same height.
“Uh – I decided to do a bit of homework in the library,” I told him. I
didn't want my younger brother to know I'd been placed in detention.
“No, you didn't,” he said flatly. “You've never done anything like that
before, and I don't suspect you'll start doing it on a Friday.” He drank some
water, and watched me with a look of curiosity on his face.
“Oh, I just went to the mall for a bit,” I said, hoping that would sound
more believable.
“Then why didn't you just tell me that, instead of lying?” he said. I
could almost feel his gaze trying to read the truth from my face, and feeling uncomfortable,
I turned away.
“You got detention, didn't you?” he said at last, and chuckled at the
look on my face. “What did you do?”
“N-no, I was just...” I said, still trying to bluff my way out of it.
“Don't lie to me! What did you do?” he said, with a strictness in his
voice that surprised me.
“I... I cheated on a test.”
His eyes widened. “Wow!” he said. “When mum and dad hear about this,
they're going to paddle your butt HARD!”
I winced. That was my guess too. “They don't know about it,” I pointed
out.
“Not yet,” he replied. “But I don't see why I shouldn't tell them.”
Ah. That would be a problem. If Jack told them about this, my fate was
sealed. I mentally went through my options, and in the end, I decided to look
pleadingly at him. “Please, Jack,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes. “I've
already been punished at school. You don't HAVE to tell them, do you? It could
be our little secret. Just between you and me.”
I didn't like the look that suddenly spread across his face, but I kept
fluttering.
“Debra, I'm going to give you a choice: Either I tell mum and dad about
your detention, or I punish you myself.”
“Punish?” I asked, confused. What was he suggesting?
I was shocked. “In your dreams,” I snarled at him. I should have known
that my brother would try to take advantage of a situation like this.
He shrugged. “Fine by me. I'll just tell mum and dad when they come
home.” He walked back to the living room, and I heard him sit down on the couch
and turn on the TV.
I stood in the kitchen, biting my lip as I thought about my options.
Going over my younger brother's lap would certainly be embarrassing, but I
doubted that would be able to punish me like mum and dad could. He was young
and inexperienced, and probably more interested in humiliating me than causing
me actual pain. But the humiliation part of it was arguably worse than the
physical pain. Then again, if mum and dad spanked me, he'd probably get to
watch, sitting there with a smile on his face as they lectured, bared, and
spanked me. I realized that I needed to know more about his alternative.
I walked into the living room, standing next to the couch. He continued
to stare at the TV for about half a minute, probably enjoying making me wait.
Then he looked up at me. “Yes? What is it?” he said with a smile.
“If I- If I take your.... deal,” I began. “Will you be using your hand
or-” I stopped. I needed to know, but I certainly didn't want to give him any
suggestions.
“Just my hand,” he said, his smile growing more confident.
“Over my skirt?”
He shook his head. “On the bare,” he said.
I blushed. “But-”
“That's the deal,” he said, cutting me off. “Take it or leave it.” He
turned back to the TV again. After a minute, he looked up at me again. I hadn't
moved an inch. “Well?” he said.
“I'll take it,” I said.
He turned off the TV, and grinned as he sat back on the couch, patting
his knee. “Over here,” he said with his sweetest voice. I blushed bright red as
I leaned over his lap. This was actually happening, I had to tell myself. I was
actually going over my little brother's lap so that he could spank me. The
thought rattled through my head, refusing to settle down.
He raised my skirt up, and I whimpered a little as he placed his fingers
in the waistband of my panties, preparing to pull them down.
“You agreed to this,” he reminded me.
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Just get it over with.”
He pulled my panties down to my knees, giving my bare cheeks a few
testing pats with his hand. I buried my head in the pillows, but jerked it up
again when he gave me the first proper slap. A sharp sting suddenly spread across
my cheeks, before just as suddenly vanishing again. Emboldened by the effect it
had on me, he continued to spank me, delivering a series of hard smacks.
“Ouch!” I said, squirming a little as the pain spread through my body.
“Hurts, doesn't it?” he said with a wide grin. “It's supposed to hurt,
you bad girl.”
After a chaotic start, he developed a sort of rhythm, moving from cheek
to cheek as his hand made its way from the upper parts of my backside to the
lower parts. I was wincing in pain every time his hand made its loud impact on
my tender flesh.
Before long, I could feel tears rolling down my face, and I was kicking
my legs. But Jack placed his left hand around my waist, holding me in place as
he continued to paint my butt red with his left hand. I was pleading for him to
stop, promising him the world if he'd just let me up.
Finally, he stopped the spanking and helped me to my feet, and he
chuckled loudly as my hands rushed back to furiously rub the sting away. As
soon as I was able to, I pulled up my panties and ran to my room, his laughter
echoing in my ears.
Safe behind the locked door, I walked over to my mirror and took a look
at the damage. My bottom was red, and extremely hot to the touch, but it was
nowhere near as bad as what my parents would have done.
I couldn't stay in my room the whole weekend, so after an hour or two, I
went back to the living room. Jack was still in front of the TV, and he nodded
as I entered the room.
“Hey,” he said calmly. “QI is on.” He acted no different than normal, as
if this was just an ordinary day. As if he hadn't just taken me over his knee
and spanked my bare bottom.
“I have a question,” I said as I placed one of the pillows next to him,
slowly lowering myself onto it. Sitting was not an easy task at the moment.
“What about?” he asked.
“About the... about what just happened.” I couldn't say the word
'spanking' out loud. It was far too embarrassing.
“Ah,” he said. “Shoot.”
“This stays between us, right? You won't tell anyone-”
“Debra,” he said, looking at me. “This was a private matter between us.
I will NEVER mention this to anyone. I promise.” I could tell that his promise
included me – he would never talk about it unless I brought it up first. Which,
to be perfectly honest, I might. I had hated every second of my punishment, but
I had to admit, if I was put into the same situation again, I'd probably make
the same choice. It was a lot less awful than being spanked by my parents.
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