Suzie Gets A
"Suzie! Come into the house this instant, young
I felt anxiety clutch at my insides at the tone
of her voice. It was clear that my little sister was in Big Trouble of
some sort. After a few moments, I could hear Suzie scurry in the back door.
"LOOK at you!" scolded Mom angrily, "You have dirt and grass stains all
down your front!" My anxious tension increased. What was going to happen
next? "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?!" Suzie answered
in a faint, pleading little voice; I could not make out the words. Feeling
a mixture of sympathy for Suzie's plight and a guilty fascination with
watching her punishment, if she received it, I crept quietly to the kitchen
doorway while Mom continued to scold. When I got to the doorway and peered
in, Mom was pulling up one of the kitchen chairs and sitting down to face
my sister, still telling her what a naughty girl she had been to soil the
dress Mommy had worked so hard to make. Suzie was standing with her hands
pasted across it's seat and squirming with anxious unease. She has blue
eyes and chestnut brown hair, which were cut short in bangs in front with
the rest tied back that day with a pretty yellow bow. The dress had short,
puffy sleeves and a ruffly white bodice, and it was on the lower edge of
her bodice that the grass stains and grime were most visible. I never found
out what game she and the other children had been playing, but it clearly
had involved her being face-down in the grass.
Suzie was on the verge of tears, her
lower lip quivering and her eyes moist. She kept saying "I'm sorry, Mommy.
I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" while Mom admonished her, until at
last Mom said, "Well you're going to be a whole LOT sorrier in a minute!"
and hoisted Suzie face-down across her lap. Suzie cried, "NO-O-O!" and
began to blubber as she was placed into the all-too-familiar spanking position.
Through the back window, the face of the boy next door appeared, peeking
in from the back yard to watch what was happening. But our mother noticed
and ordered him to go home. He vanished from sight. Turning her attention
back to Suzie, Mom said, "You have DISGRACED yourself, young lady," in
a terse, clipped tone. Glancing back at the window again to make sure there
was no audience, she pulled up Suzie's skirt, adding, "You are going to
be spanked severely!" Suzie continued to weep, only able to stammer the
words "no" and "please" as our mother turned up her petticoat as well.
I was almost faint from suspense, wishing
this weren't happening, yet filled with a strong need to watch every detail
and commit it to memory. Although the spectacle before my eyes was utterly
distasteful to me at that moment, I knew that at bedtime that night I would
be guiltily scouring my memory banks for this image of Suzie across our
mother's lap being bared for her spanking. The intensely pleasurable excitement
would fill me with shame, yet I could never resist the temptation to indulge.
I always strove to commit to memory every spanking I ever received or watched.
"Put your knees together!" commanded
Mom in a sharp tone. Suzie's legs were spread, which would have made it
impossible for Mom to pull her panties down very far. Impatiently, she
repeated the command, but still Suzie balked. SMACK! went Mom's open hand
against the inner part of Suzie's bare left thigh. "OW-WOW-OW!" cried
my sister as the aftereffect of the slap throbbed and smarted. Again Mom
ordered Suzie to put her knees together, and again she slapped Suzie's
bare thigh in the same spot when my sister didn't obey. Suzie let out a
tearful wail of pain, and I could see the beginnings of a red handprint
forming on Suzie's milky skin from the first slap. This time, she obediently
clamped her knees shut. With a quick, smooth motion, Mom yanked Suzie's
panties halfway down her thighs, covering the reddening handprint
and uncovering Suzie's bare bottom in the process. Then she immediately
raised her hand and began swiftly slapping my little sister's small, rounded
Suzie winced and took a deep breath
as the first few swats resounded against the pale skin of her bare
bottom. Then she began to bawl with pain. The first couple seconds of her
spanking sounded like: SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! WAAAAAAAAAAAH! From
then on, Suzie alternated between long howls and deep heaving sobs, punctuated
all the while by the crisp, steady cracks of hard palm meeting soft flesh.
Mom's lips were still pursed with displeasure, but now her brow was also
knit with either concentration or exertion. She did not let up, but continued
to slap the little upturned cheeks with the same driving rhythm. Our mother
firmly believed that spankings should HURT. And believe me, they did! She
slapped Suzie's bare buttocks again and again - five... ten... fifteen...
twenty... - driving the sting level higher and higher, while Suzie
wailed with ever mounting urgency. Although no more children tried to spy
on the proceedings, they were surely all still out there, listening in
hushed silence to every sound coming through the screen door.
I felt terribly sorry for my
little sister. I knew all too well what Suzie was going through, having
experienced dozens of our mother's bottom blisterings myself. Meanwhile,
Suzie did not need anyone else to tell her what a "spanking from Mommy"
felt like. She was squirming and kicking from the knees down as her inflamed,
little backside turned deeper and deeper shades of pink. Mom pressed her
left hand down on the small of Suzie's back to hold Suzie as still as possible
while continuing to swat her scorched little cheeks as relentlessly as
before. From my own experiences across our mother's lap, I guessed that
by now Suzie was not even perceiving the sensations of distinct slaps,
but rather a continuous searing burn as if scalding liquid were being splashed
over every inch of her bottom. She certainly sounded like it. Suzie was
crying really hard, her eyes clamped shut, her face flushed, and her mouth
opened wide, as Mom spanked and spanked and spanked her sore, reddened
Abruptly, our mother stopped spanking,
pulled Suzie's little panties back up and smoothed her dress and slip back
down into position while she continued to cry. Then, Mom lifted Suzie up,
stood up herself, set my bawling little sister down in the chair, and then
went to the sink and turned on the faucet. (Perhaps she was running cold
water on her hand, but I couldn't see). While she did this, Suzie slouched
farther and farther down in the chair as she cried, until she slumped down
onto the cool tile floor and lay there on her side, still sobbing piteously
and rubbing her rear end. After a few moments, when Mom turned around and
saw her like that, she strode swiftly across the room, exclaiming, "You
get up off that floor this instant! You bad girl!" To my dismay,
Mom knelt, took hold of Suzie under the arms, and then in a single motion,
sat down in the chair and placed Suzie face-down across her lap once again.
Suzie wailed with alarm as she realized what was about to happen, and tried
to shield her bottom with her hands. But Mom took hold of Suzie's wrists
with her left hand and pinned them firmly against Suzie's back. "Now you've
gotten your dress even dirtier!" scolded our mother as she angrily whisked
my sister's skirts back up and tugged down her panties once again. Suzie's
well-spanked buttocks had blushed an even deeper shade of crimson by now,
but Mom proceeded to give the two smarting little hemispheres over half
a dozen hard, emphatic slaps in rapid succession, while poor Suzie roared
with pain. This time, after Mom once again pulled Suzie's panties back
up and sat her down in the chair, Suzie remained seated while her crying
gradually died down..
I had crept back into the living room
and collapsed into the armchair, feeling exhausted, as the sound of my
sister's crying continued to waft in from the kitchen. When Suzie had finally
quieted, they had a mother-daughter talk, with Mom stressing the
importance of being a good girl, playing nicely and keeping her dress clean,
and Suzie, between sniffles, promising earnestly to do so.
(c) Handprince, 2005