"Stacy, I want you to mow the lawn on the southern side of the house. Jane, you can paint the fence on the western side."
Stacy and her cousin Jane, both at the end of their teens, were spending a few weeks with their uncle in his house in the country. The tall, broad man could be kind and generous if he wanted, but he also made sure they helped him around the house - and there were consequences for anyone caught slacking.
"Aw, come on, Uncle Robert," Jane complained. "That will take all day! It's such a nice, sunny day - I want to relax!"
"It will only take two or three hours - you can relax afterward. The sun's not going anywhere."
"But I hate painting," Jane replied sullenly.
"We'll switch tasks, then," Stacy said. "You prefer mowing over painting, right? I don't."
Jane's face lit up at that, but Uncle Robert shook his finger. "No trading chores, either. You're not just here to relax - your parents haven't taught you proper maintenance, and these are skills you'll need in the future. If you trade chores, you'll be missing that lesson."
He headed into his study, and Stacy began to grumble. "I can't believe it. Not only to have to spend three hours outside working, but I also have to be MOWING?"
"You could probably stand to spend a few more hours in the sun," Jane told her. "Sitting inside and reading? You know you can bring that book outside, right? But you don't have to mow - I'll mow if you paint."
"But he just told us not to trade chores."
"Yes, but he also told us he's going to be in his study for the next few hours. There are no windows facing west or south there. If we start now, we'll be finished before he comes to check on us, and he'll never know."
Two and a half hours later, Stacy was rinsing out the paintbrushes, making sure there was not a single spot of paint on either her clothes or her hands. Any sign of paint could tell Uncle Robert that they'd traded tasks. Satisfied with her scrutiny, she headed inside - she'd just started another Discworld book and was dying to see how it went. Jane was probably done mowing too and had started to sunbathe - she couldn't hear the mower when she approached the house.
She'd read four or five pages when her uncle entered the room. "There you are! Didn't I tell you that you had to finish mowing before you could relax? And here I find you inside, reading," he said, his strict tone causing shivers to run down her back. She tried to respond, but he cut her off. "You've barely mowed a quarter of the lawn, and you're already taking a break! How long have you been sitting here? You could learn from Jane - she's already done with the fence, and I saw her napping in the sun. Why not? It's not like the lawnmower's going to wake her."
Realizing her predicament, Stacy quickly considered her options. She could tell her uncle the truth, but he'd probably ask Jane - and she had no reason to believe that Jane would confess, so it would be Jane's word against hers. Maybe he would punish her more strictly if he thought she was lying. She bitterly reflected on the fact that if she had paint on her hands, she could point to that as evidence - but she'd dutifully made sure there wasn't. And if she confessed to trading chores, after her uncle strictly told her not to, would she really be out of trouble, or just in a DIFFERENT sort of trouble?
"Well, if you're sitting down on the job, I can think of an easy remedy," her uncle said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to her feet. Before she could utter a word, he'd dragged her over to the couch. He sat down, and she was tumbled over his lap. "You won't be sitting down any time soon - at least not comfortably:"
She squealed as his firm palm landed on the seat of her thin summer dress. She'd found herself being bent over his lap for a spanking many times, and every time, she told herself that it would be the last - that she'd never do anything to earn such a painful, humiliating punishment. And this time, she hadn't! She'd completed her chore - or at least A chore. That had to count for something, didn't it?
She opened her mouth to explain the situation - that it was Jane who deserved to be punished this time - but a sudden series of smacks to her sit spots caused her to shout in pain instead. His palm felt like a plank of wood! "Well, I think that's enough of a warm-up," he said. To her horror, he grabbed the hem of her dress and raised it, before placing his fingers in the waistband of her panties.
"Wait, uncle, you can't! Not on the bare," she pleaded.
"You've been spanked before, Stacy - many times, in fact. Have I ever let you off my lap before you got a proper spanking on your bare bottom? Of course not! So why would I do it this time?" Without waiting for an answer, he lowered her panties, revealing a pink bubble butt that was clenching and unclenching as it prepared for what was to come.
Stacy howled and kicked her legs as her uncle continued his painful assault on her backside. She squirmed and wriggled, but no matter how much she moved, every slap found its way to her poor bottom. Eventually, her uncle became annoyed with her movements, placing his left hand upon her back to hold her in place. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she was soon begging for mercy.
After what seemed to hours to the red-bottomed girl, he finally helped her to her feet, letting her cry against his shirt as he comforted her and told her that she was forgiven.
"I'm going to drive to town and buy some burgers and ribs - Jane did her chores, and there's no reason we can't barbeque just because you didn't do yours. You've already been punished, after all. Why don't you wake her up and help her light the grill?"
As he headed off, Stacy smiled to herself despite the tears. "Oh, I'll certainly light a fire for her," she said as she gingerly rubbed her rear.
She found Jane sleeping in the field, not too far from the lawnmower. Jane blinked drowsily and yawned as Stacy approached. "What time is it?" She glanced at the watch, then started. "Oh! Uncle Robert will be coming to check on us soon! I'd better..." She suddenly noticed Stacy's tear-stained face. "What's happened to you?"
"Uncle Robert DID come to check on us. He found a painted fence and an un-mowed lawn, so he gave me a sound spanking;" Stacy replied, trying to keep her voice calm.
"Oh shit! It was such a nice day, so I decided to lie down in the grass for a few minutes. I thought I had plenty of time, but I must have fallen asleep." She shook her head. "You got spanked because of me? I'm sorry!"
"Not as sorry as you're about to be," Stacy replied. And she grabbed her cousin's wrist and pulled her to her feet.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Jane said, still somewhat dazed from her nap. Rather than answer her, Stacy dragged her over to a nearby stump. She hissed in pain as her sore rear touched down on the hard wood, but she wasted no time in pulling her errant cousin over her lap.
As the first few smacks landed on the seat of her jeans, Jane woke from her stupor. "Hey! You can't spank me!" She tried to stand up, but Stacy managed to hold her down.
"It's your laziness that got me spanked," Stacy snapped. "If you'd kept your end of the bargain, instead of napping on the job, we'd both be sitting comfortably now. You deserve every smack!" She moved her hand from cheek to cheek, furiously pounding her cousin's wriggling rear.
She continued to spank the squirming seat, but her hand soon began to sting. Her own palm was not as strong as her uncle's, and Jane's athletic posterior was a firmer target than her own soft cheeks, but it was the presence of the jeans that really made it painful. She pulled her cousin to her feet. Jane's hands eagerly flew back to rub her stinging backside, but Stacy slapped her hands away. "Take down your jeans!"
"What? No! You must be joking," Jane said with a shocked expression on her face.
"If I tell Uncle Robert about this, he's not just going to use his hand on you - he'll pull out his strap! And he'll probably let me watch your punishment. Do you want that to happen?" Stacy had no idea what their uncle would actually do if he learned the truth, or even whether he owned a strap or not, but she guessed that Jane didn't know either.
Hesitantly, Jane unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. As she lowered them to her knees, she looked pleadingly at her cousin. "Go easy on me!" she begged.
"I'll go just as easily on you as he did on me," Stacy growled in reply. "Over my knee!"
Jane slowly leaned forward, placing her weight on her cousin's lap. The extra weight made Stacy hiss in pain, but she impatiently grabbed her cousin and pulled her forward, making sure Jane's backside was centered over her own lap. She rubbed the seat of Jane's pink panties, smiling at how much softer the target felt without the jeans. She quickly grabbed the waistband and lowered them to her knees, smiling at Jane's outraged squeal. Proper spankings were on the bare, after all.
Her hand landed with a loud smack, and soon, Jane was squirming around on her lap again, pleading and telling Stacy how sorry she was. Her words fell on deaf ears, and Stacy grinned to herself as she watched her palm leave pink handprints on Jane's bottom.
Stacy would have loved to make sure that Jane's bottom was just as red as her own, but a few things stopped her. First of all, Uncle Robert would be back soon, and he would probably have a few questions if he found one of his nieces spanking the other. Most likely, one or both of them would be over his lap while he was asking those questions. Secondly, she didn't want Jane to squirm around too much during their meal - that was also likely to lead to questions. Thirdly, her hand was really beginning to hurt. Fourthly, sitting on the stump was not comfortable for her own well-spanked bottom.
She helped Jane to her feet, comforting her while reminding her why she had been punished, just as Uncle Robert did. "You can put off your own tasks as much as you want, but if we're switching chores, I really need you to hold up your end of the bargain. It's not fair that I'M the one in trouble."
As they headed off to light the grill, both girls rubbing their stinging posteriors, Stacy smiled to herself. It had been quite fun to watch her cousin wriggling around on her lap, so she would have to find an excuse to do it again. Maybe the next time Jane wanted to steal some of Uncle Robert's liquor, she'd find some other way to discourage her than threatening to tell on her.
But she'd find a hairbrush or slipper or something to use. Hand spankings were too much for her poor palm, she reflected.
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