The first thing I did when I came home from the office was to change out of my pencil skirt and professional top, straight into sweatpants and an old, worn t-shirt. The business consultant gig had allowed me to buy a house in my thirties, but being forced to dress nicely all day was certainly one of the downsides. After wiping off the makeup, I headed for the living room to read for a while before I made dinner.
Shortly after I sat down, I heard a woman's voice in the distance. "That's it! You're getting a spanking!" The book flew from my hands as I jumped to my feet, and my heart pounded in my chest. I'd always had a deep interest in spanking, despite never encountering it in real life – no matter how much I wished it, I'd never been spanked, never seen anyone get spanked, and never spanked anyone. And now, someone was getting spanked nearby.
However, it was the next sentence that really took my breath away. "Mum, you can't! I'm eighteen, I'm far too old for –" The voice of a teenaged girl desperately trying to seem like an adult. I realized that the voices were coming from next door.
Shortly after I sat down, I heard a woman's voice in the distance. "That's it! You're getting a spanking!" The book flew from my hands as I jumped to my feet, and my heart pounded in my chest. I'd always had a deep interest in spanking, despite never encountering it in real life – no matter how much I wished it, I'd never been spanked, never seen anyone get spanked, and never spanked anyone. And now, someone was getting spanked nearby.
However, it was the next sentence that really took my breath away. "Mum, you can't! I'm eighteen, I'm far too old for –" The voice of a teenaged girl desperately trying to seem like an adult. I realized that the voices were coming from next door.
I'd seen Mrs Milburn and her daughter Anna briefly in passing, but hadn't talked to them yet. I'd opened the window to let some air in on such a warm day, and it seems Anna had done the same thing, allowing me to hear what was going on in her room. However, I was unable to see anything, and the temptation of seeing an eighteen-year-old girl being spanked was too much for me. I decided to head into the garden and peek into the window.
Sneaking along the side of the house, I soon found Anna's window. Fortunately, there were some bushes outside, so I was sure I could watch without being seen. Mrs Milburn was sitting on her daughter's bed, and the teenager was standing in front of her with her hands on her head, desperately trying to convince her mother that she shouldn't spank her – or at least allow her to keep her jeans on. Mrs Milburn only scoffed at this, and before my eyes, her experienced hands quickly unbuttoned and unzipped the faded jeans.
I expected her to pull her daughter over her knee immediately, or possibly lower her panties first, but to my surprise, Mrs Milburn left her daughter standing there with her hands on her head and her jeans around her ankles as she scolded her for everything she had done wrong. She hadn't cleaned her room well enough, she had come home after curfew last night, and there seemed to be a beer or two missing from the fridge – being old enough to drink didn't mean she was old enough to take someone else's beers without asking. The teenager tried her best to seem like she still had her dignity, but under the circumstances, it wasn't easy, and I thought I could see tears at the edges of her eyes.
After a few minutes of lecturing, Mrs Milburn patted her lap, and the petite, blonde girl reluctantly bent over her mother's knee without further delay. Her mother gently patted the seat of Anna's white cotton panties, before delivering a dozen quick slaps to her quivering buttocks.
I stared wide-eyed at the scene unfolding before me. I'd read about spankings in books and seen them on TV, not to mention what I'd seen on the internet, but this was the first time I actually saw a real-life spanking – an actual teenager being punished by her mother. Mrs Milburn's hand became a blur as it moved from cheek to cheek, delivering slaps that seemed to be light, but the sting was quickly building up, judging from the way her daughter was crossing and uncrossing her legs. I think Anna was doing her best to seem like it wasn't affecting her, but her mother wasn't going to make it easy.
After about five minutes, Mrs Milburn stopped spanking and rested her palm on the seat of Anna's panties. Part of me felt sorry for the girl, but a much greater part of me hoped my entertainment was not over yet, and that was the part that got its wish.
"That's enough of a warm-up, I think," the mother said as she grabbed the waistband of Anna's panties. The girl groaned, but wisely chose to say nothing as her mother slowly pulled the panties down to join her trousers at her knees. The girl's small, firm bottom was almost pink.
Without further delay, Mrs Milburn continued to spank her daughter's squirming backside. The girl had begun to grimace in pain with every slap, letting out an occasional "Ouch!" or "Ow!" when her mother found a particularly sensitive spot. I grinned; this was even better than I had hoped.
When Mrs Milburn seemed satisfied with the colour of her daughter's bottom, as well as the sincerity of her pleas, she allowed the girl to stand up, then ordered her to stand in the corner with her hands on her head. The girl obeyed, but it was clear she had to fight the instinct to rub her burning bottom.
"Stand there until I tell you that you can come out," her mother instructed. "I need to go fetch something." The girl whimpered, obviously not looking forward to learning what her mother was retrieving.
I was still staring at the pink-bottomed teenager when I felt a terrible pain in my ear, and saw Mrs Milburn glaring at me. She'd exited the house and managed to sneak up on me, and her left hand now had my ear in a firm grip. "Peeping at windows, are we? We'll see about that. Come with me, young lady!" And she started to drag me away. I tried to resist, but she only tightened her grip on my ear, so I quickly gave up.
A few seconds later, I was pulled into Anna's bedroom. The girl spun around to stare wide-eyed at me, before suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be standing in the corner, so she turned back around. Mrs Milburn let go of me, but she placed herself between me and the door to keep me from running away. I gingerly rubbed my ear, expecting to find pieces of it torn off, but to my surprise, it seemed to be whole – sore, but undamaged.
"Come out of the corner, Anna," Mrs Milburn said. "You can put your clothes back on, if you wish. I found this girl skulking outside the window. Is she a friend of yours?"
"No, I've never seen her before," Anna said, both hands now soothing her stinging seat. She'd put her panties back on, but had taken off her jeans, preferring to avoid the tight denim right now.
Mrs Milburn studied my face carefully. "You're the neighbour's daughter, aren't you? I've seen you outside that house that the Adams woman recently bought."
I realized what had happened. I'd always had a bit of a babyface, and with no makeup, dressed in a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, they had taken me for a teenager – my own non-existent daughter. "Yes, I live next door," I said. "I heard some strange sounds, so I decided to investigate." All of which was perfectly true.
"And when you discovered what was going on, did you go back home? Did you respect my daughter's privacy? No, you hid in the bushes and spied on Anna's punishment." Mrs Milburn scowled at me. "I'm going to tell your mother about this, and recommend that she punishes you properly."
"Please don't tell her!" I begged. "She'll ground me for, like, a month!" I didn't want to know what would happen if they dragged me back to my house and found out who I really was.
The mother chuckled. "Ground you? That's it? No wonder you're such a brat. Well, I can think of a solution that doesn't involve telling your mother – one that will teach you a lesson about having your privacy violated, and hopefully cure your curiosity about spankings."
She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bed, and before I knew what was happening, she'd sat down and tumbled me over her lap. She grabbed the waistband of my sweatpants and lowered them to my knees, but it wasn't until the first smacks landed on the seat of my panties that I woke from my stupor. "Ow! What are you doing!?"
"Why don't you try to guess? I'm sure you'll get it in three tries – five, at the most," she said gently as her hard palm landed on the soft flesh of my bottom.
"Ouch! I can't believe this! You're spanking me!" I protested, trying to squirm away. It didn't help – she held me in place, and her palm still found its target.
"Hey, that's great! You figured it out. You're smarter than you look," she said with a grin, but her hand never paused in its attack on my hindquarters.
I've already mentioned that I had a life-long interest in spanking, and I'd love to watch more spankings being delivered. Under the proper circumstances, I would also love to submit to a spanking from the right person. But being punished by an angry neighbour while her teenaged daughter was standing over me, openly laughing at my pain and humiliation, was certainly not something I wanted!
"You don't understand! You can't spank me, I'm not –"
"I understand that you decided to sneak into my garden and spy on my daughter's punishment," she said in a tone that suggested that she'd had enough of my nonsense. "I understand that you're not being properly punished at home, and that you're curious about spankings – hopefully, this should cure those issues. I also understand that you've had enough of a warm-up, and it's time to move on to the real spanking." And to my horror, she placed her fingers in the waistband of my panties and started to pull them down.
I quickly reviewed my options. If I told them that I was not a naughty teenager, but a 30-year-old business consultant with a bachelor's degree and a mortgage, maybe she'd let me up. Maybe she'd apologize and let me limp home to find some cream to soothe my burning backside. Alternatively, she'd think I was lying and give me extra, or wash my mouth out with soap.
Sneaking along the side of the house, I soon found Anna's window. Fortunately, there were some bushes outside, so I was sure I could watch without being seen. Mrs Milburn was sitting on her daughter's bed, and the teenager was standing in front of her with her hands on her head, desperately trying to convince her mother that she shouldn't spank her – or at least allow her to keep her jeans on. Mrs Milburn only scoffed at this, and before my eyes, her experienced hands quickly unbuttoned and unzipped the faded jeans.
I expected her to pull her daughter over her knee immediately, or possibly lower her panties first, but to my surprise, Mrs Milburn left her daughter standing there with her hands on her head and her jeans around her ankles as she scolded her for everything she had done wrong. She hadn't cleaned her room well enough, she had come home after curfew last night, and there seemed to be a beer or two missing from the fridge – being old enough to drink didn't mean she was old enough to take someone else's beers without asking. The teenager tried her best to seem like she still had her dignity, but under the circumstances, it wasn't easy, and I thought I could see tears at the edges of her eyes.
After a few minutes of lecturing, Mrs Milburn patted her lap, and the petite, blonde girl reluctantly bent over her mother's knee without further delay. Her mother gently patted the seat of Anna's white cotton panties, before delivering a dozen quick slaps to her quivering buttocks.
I stared wide-eyed at the scene unfolding before me. I'd read about spankings in books and seen them on TV, not to mention what I'd seen on the internet, but this was the first time I actually saw a real-life spanking – an actual teenager being punished by her mother. Mrs Milburn's hand became a blur as it moved from cheek to cheek, delivering slaps that seemed to be light, but the sting was quickly building up, judging from the way her daughter was crossing and uncrossing her legs. I think Anna was doing her best to seem like it wasn't affecting her, but her mother wasn't going to make it easy.
After about five minutes, Mrs Milburn stopped spanking and rested her palm on the seat of Anna's panties. Part of me felt sorry for the girl, but a much greater part of me hoped my entertainment was not over yet, and that was the part that got its wish.
"That's enough of a warm-up, I think," the mother said as she grabbed the waistband of Anna's panties. The girl groaned, but wisely chose to say nothing as her mother slowly pulled the panties down to join her trousers at her knees. The girl's small, firm bottom was almost pink.
Without further delay, Mrs Milburn continued to spank her daughter's squirming backside. The girl had begun to grimace in pain with every slap, letting out an occasional "Ouch!" or "Ow!" when her mother found a particularly sensitive spot. I grinned; this was even better than I had hoped.
When Mrs Milburn seemed satisfied with the colour of her daughter's bottom, as well as the sincerity of her pleas, she allowed the girl to stand up, then ordered her to stand in the corner with her hands on her head. The girl obeyed, but it was clear she had to fight the instinct to rub her burning bottom.
"Stand there until I tell you that you can come out," her mother instructed. "I need to go fetch something." The girl whimpered, obviously not looking forward to learning what her mother was retrieving.
I was still staring at the pink-bottomed teenager when I felt a terrible pain in my ear, and saw Mrs Milburn glaring at me. She'd exited the house and managed to sneak up on me, and her left hand now had my ear in a firm grip. "Peeping at windows, are we? We'll see about that. Come with me, young lady!" And she started to drag me away. I tried to resist, but she only tightened her grip on my ear, so I quickly gave up.
A few seconds later, I was pulled into Anna's bedroom. The girl spun around to stare wide-eyed at me, before suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be standing in the corner, so she turned back around. Mrs Milburn let go of me, but she placed herself between me and the door to keep me from running away. I gingerly rubbed my ear, expecting to find pieces of it torn off, but to my surprise, it seemed to be whole – sore, but undamaged.
"Come out of the corner, Anna," Mrs Milburn said. "You can put your clothes back on, if you wish. I found this girl skulking outside the window. Is she a friend of yours?"
"No, I've never seen her before," Anna said, both hands now soothing her stinging seat. She'd put her panties back on, but had taken off her jeans, preferring to avoid the tight denim right now.
Mrs Milburn studied my face carefully. "You're the neighbour's daughter, aren't you? I've seen you outside that house that the Adams woman recently bought."
I realized what had happened. I'd always had a bit of a babyface, and with no makeup, dressed in a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, they had taken me for a teenager – my own non-existent daughter. "Yes, I live next door," I said. "I heard some strange sounds, so I decided to investigate." All of which was perfectly true.
"And when you discovered what was going on, did you go back home? Did you respect my daughter's privacy? No, you hid in the bushes and spied on Anna's punishment." Mrs Milburn scowled at me. "I'm going to tell your mother about this, and recommend that she punishes you properly."
"Please don't tell her!" I begged. "She'll ground me for, like, a month!" I didn't want to know what would happen if they dragged me back to my house and found out who I really was.
The mother chuckled. "Ground you? That's it? No wonder you're such a brat. Well, I can think of a solution that doesn't involve telling your mother – one that will teach you a lesson about having your privacy violated, and hopefully cure your curiosity about spankings."
She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bed, and before I knew what was happening, she'd sat down and tumbled me over her lap. She grabbed the waistband of my sweatpants and lowered them to my knees, but it wasn't until the first smacks landed on the seat of my panties that I woke from my stupor. "Ow! What are you doing!?"
"Why don't you try to guess? I'm sure you'll get it in three tries – five, at the most," she said gently as her hard palm landed on the soft flesh of my bottom.
"Ouch! I can't believe this! You're spanking me!" I protested, trying to squirm away. It didn't help – she held me in place, and her palm still found its target.
"Hey, that's great! You figured it out. You're smarter than you look," she said with a grin, but her hand never paused in its attack on my hindquarters.
I've already mentioned that I had a life-long interest in spanking, and I'd love to watch more spankings being delivered. Under the proper circumstances, I would also love to submit to a spanking from the right person. But being punished by an angry neighbour while her teenaged daughter was standing over me, openly laughing at my pain and humiliation, was certainly not something I wanted!
"You don't understand! You can't spank me, I'm not –"
"I understand that you decided to sneak into my garden and spy on my daughter's punishment," she said in a tone that suggested that she'd had enough of my nonsense. "I understand that you're not being properly punished at home, and that you're curious about spankings – hopefully, this should cure those issues. I also understand that you've had enough of a warm-up, and it's time to move on to the real spanking." And to my horror, she placed her fingers in the waistband of my panties and started to pull them down.
I quickly reviewed my options. If I told them that I was not a naughty teenager, but a 30-year-old business consultant with a bachelor's degree and a mortgage, maybe she'd let me up. Maybe she'd apologize and let me limp home to find some cream to soothe my burning backside. Alternatively, she'd think I was lying and give me extra, or wash my mouth out with soap.
Or maybe she'd believe me and spank me anyway – if 18 was not too old for a spanking, how certain could I be that 30 was? What would be her reaction to learning my real identity?
Before I could make up my mind, Mrs Milburn started to spank me again, preventing me from focusing on anything but my burning butt. "Look at her kicking her legs," Anna said with a smirk. "It's obvious she'd never been spanked before."
"Then this should do her a world of good," Mrs Milburn replied with a satisfied air. "Are you going to be a good girl in the future?"
"Ouch! Yes! I'll be good! I'll be SO good, you can't – no, not there!" I squealed as she started to focus on my sit spots.
"You won't go sneaking around in other people's gardens, peeking in on other people's punishments?"
"No! No, I won't, you have my word! Please stop spanking me!"
"Good to hear," she said with a grin. However, despite all my pleading, begging, and promises, I couldn't make her stop, or even slow down. She spanked my bottom quickly and soundly, and tears were rolling down my cheeks.
By the time I was allowed to stand up, I felt like had been over her lap for hours. When I glanced out of the window, I was surprised to see that the sun had not gone down. But my first priority was trying to rub the sting away, jumping from foot to foot as I ignored the laughter of Anna and her mother. They seemed to find me a comical sight.
"Ideally, I'd like you to stand in the corner and think about what you've done, but I think it's best that you went home now," Mrs Milburn said gently. "Just remember that if I catch you lurking in my garden again, you'll get a lot worse."
I wasn't sure that was possible, but decided to keep that to myself in case she felt the need to prove me wrong. I pulled my panties and sweatpants back up. As the fabric tightened on my poor rear end, causing me to wince, I was incredibly relieved that I wasn't the sort of woman who wore tight jeans.
As I went home to find some way to relieve the sting, I briefly reflected on the problems this could cause in the future; what would happen when they figured out who I really was? But that was a problem for another day – right now, my problem was how I'd sit down at work tomorrow.
Before I could make up my mind, Mrs Milburn started to spank me again, preventing me from focusing on anything but my burning butt. "Look at her kicking her legs," Anna said with a smirk. "It's obvious she'd never been spanked before."
"Then this should do her a world of good," Mrs Milburn replied with a satisfied air. "Are you going to be a good girl in the future?"
"Ouch! Yes! I'll be good! I'll be SO good, you can't – no, not there!" I squealed as she started to focus on my sit spots.
"You won't go sneaking around in other people's gardens, peeking in on other people's punishments?"
"No! No, I won't, you have my word! Please stop spanking me!"
"Good to hear," she said with a grin. However, despite all my pleading, begging, and promises, I couldn't make her stop, or even slow down. She spanked my bottom quickly and soundly, and tears were rolling down my cheeks.
By the time I was allowed to stand up, I felt like had been over her lap for hours. When I glanced out of the window, I was surprised to see that the sun had not gone down. But my first priority was trying to rub the sting away, jumping from foot to foot as I ignored the laughter of Anna and her mother. They seemed to find me a comical sight.
"Ideally, I'd like you to stand in the corner and think about what you've done, but I think it's best that you went home now," Mrs Milburn said gently. "Just remember that if I catch you lurking in my garden again, you'll get a lot worse."
I wasn't sure that was possible, but decided to keep that to myself in case she felt the need to prove me wrong. I pulled my panties and sweatpants back up. As the fabric tightened on my poor rear end, causing me to wince, I was incredibly relieved that I wasn't the sort of woman who wore tight jeans.
As I went home to find some way to relieve the sting, I briefly reflected on the problems this could cause in the future; what would happen when they figured out who I really was? But that was a problem for another day – right now, my problem was how I'd sit down at work tomorrow.
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