I’m making daily posts from now until December 25th for the Advent season in cooperation with an effort inspired by the wonderful “el tercer ojo“.
Jennifer sat in her room, feeling very guilty and ashamed of herself, and not a little confused by her own behavior. She had always been considered a good student, seen by others as well as herself as responsible and cooperative and smart. But some change seemed to have come about once she became 16. In that month since her birthday, and the subsequent beginning of the school year, Jennifer’s attitude had steadily gotten worse. She found herself beginning to avoid her usual friends, those who were part of the smart and well-behaved crowd, and instead choosing to flirt with some of more intriguing “bad boys”. Her skirts had gotten shorter and she found herself not fully buttoning up her shirts. Needless to say, this strategy was successful in getting those boys’ attention.
One boy in particular, Chaz, had distinguished himself as the best at returning her attentions. He was tall, had dark spiky hair (it was the 80’s) and wore his jacket with the sleeves rolled up. On the fateful day that landed Jennifer in her room awaiting a talk with both of her parents, she met Chaz after school to get a ride home from him. Along the way he’d convinced her to go with him to Shirley’s Grill and have a burger. She felt like that was innocent enough and that she was adult enough to make that decision, even though she had been told not to go to that area of the town without permission and she had forgotten that she’d promised to meet her mother at home to go to her little sister’s dance recital.
So as she ate her food and flirted with Chaz, her mother was waiting and wondering and worrying. While Jennifer and Chaz lingered in the parking lot for a kissing and fondling session afterwards, her mom was deciding to call her husband and to go ahead and take Sarah to the recital. Rather than meeting his family at the recital, Jennifer’s father spent the time trying to find his daughter. He called all of her friends whose names he could remember. A few of them mentioned a Chaz, but none seemed to know his last name. He was stuck with no leads.
When he was just about to decide to call the police, Jennifer came in the door. She looked startled to see her dad there looking upset and angry. Then she gasped as she remembered what day it was and the awareness of how long her impromptu date with Chaz had gone on. The recital would be about half over by now.
“Where have you been, Jennifer?” her father asked. “Could you not have even called?”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she answered. “We lost track of time.”
“We?” her dad asked. “Who is we?”
“Chaz,” Jennifer said, her voice small and uncertain.
“We haven’t met this Chaz,” he said. “You know you’re not supposed to date anyone we haven’t met.”
“But he’s not a bad guy. We haven’t done anything…” she said.
“You need to go to your room. I can’t deal with you right now. I’m too angry,” her father said. “We’ll talk about it when your mother gets back.”
Jennifer waited for a very long hour and a half. She wrote some in her journal and tried to read, but found herself reading the same page over and over. She couldn’t help but wonder how she’d be punished. Because she’d been a good kid for most of her life, she’d rarely been punished. The last time was when she was thirteen and she’d gotten spanked. Surely they wouldn’t spank her again. Now would be the time for more adult punishment like grounding
Eventually, Jennifer heard her mom come in with her sister. She overheard her mom and dad speaking, but couldn’t make out much of the actual words. At least they weren’t yelling. After about fifteen minutes, she heard a knock on her door, which surprised her. She’d expected they would just barge in and start fussing at her.
“Come in,” she said.
Mom and Dad walked in, looking serious but not angry. Mom sat on Jennifer’s desk chair and Dad leaned against the desk, both facing Jennifer as she sat on her bed.
“You’re dad and I were talking,” her mom began. “And we want you to know that we are disappointed by your behavior and the fact that you broke your promises about today. You caused us both a lot of worry and stress and on top of that, we find out you’re seeing a boy without permission.”
“But also,” her dad said, “we understand you’re sixteen now and maybe you need to take on more of your own decision-making.”
Jennifer’s eyes widened as she wondered for a moment if she’d somehow convinced them to give her more freedom. Would this mean no punishment at all?
“So,” her mom said, “We’re going to offer you a choice in terms of your punishment for this incident. You can either take two months of being grounded; no outings, no dates, no dances, etc. Or you’ll take a spanking – 100 strokes with a belt.”
Jennifer swallowed hard. “Two months? That goes past the Fall Fling dance and the ski trip I was going on!”
“I’m afraid it does,” her father said, “but that’s just one of the tough decisions you make as an adult.”
Jennifer thought for a moment. “Can we combine them somehow? Compromise? How about if you give me one month of grounding and fifty with the belt?”
Her mom shook her head, “That would be more convenient for you wouldn’t it. You’d get to do all the things you’re looking forward to and get half of the spanking you would otherwise. I’m sorry. It’s not going to work that way.”
Jennifer bowed her head as it sunk into her what her decision would be. She’d just begun gaining ground with these cool, popular kids. And this was her junior year. There would only be so many opportunities. She couldn’t afford to miss Fall Fling. She thought about how cool it would be to go there on Chaz’s arm. They could become THE couple to envy.
Jennifer stood up and turned to face the side of her bed. She pulled her pillow towards her, laying it out flat on the bed before her. She looked over at her parents, checking to see if this is how they wanted her. They nodded and Jennifer bent over the side of the beg, hugging the pillow. Hugging the pillow would provide several benefits. She’d have more comfortable support for her torso, be comforted by having something to hug, and hugging it tight would give her hands something to do other than reaching behind her to protect her bottom. She knew that if she did that, her hands would have to be tied and she just didn’t want to have to deal with that.
As she bent over, her short skirt rode up, revealing the fact that she was wearing high-cut, lacy panties. Seeing this, both her parents realized that she was now going to be in full teenage girl mode going forward. They felt like they’d made the right decision in giving her a choice. Her father took off his belt and folded it, handing it to his wife. She grasped it with one hand and bounced it up and down in the other, feeling its weight and trying to gauge how much force to use in whipping Jennifer. She wanted this spanking to hurt in a way that Jennifer would not forget it any time soon, but she didn’t want to torture her or have this be a memory of abuse for her daughter.
She walked over to stand to the left of Jennifer’s hips. She drew back the belt and swung it fast, landing square across Jennifer’s bottom. She let out an “Ow!” and gripped the pillow harder, shifting her weight on her feet, attempting to work through the pain without being able to rub her bottom. Jennifer’s mom, recalling spankings she used to get growing up, knew that this was the right level of severity for 100 strokes. The lash could have been harder, but Jennifer would never have been able to take 100. They’d have to tie her wrists and they all would hate that.
Jennifer’s mom continued spanking her with the belt. She lashed, waited for the yelp and shudder go through Jennifer and then lashed again. She soon established a regular rhythm. After about twenty strokes, Jennifer was not only shifting weight, but actually almost marching in place, alternately lifting and putting down her feet. Tears began to flow down her flushed cheeks as the count reached 25. The yelps began to turn into longer moans.
Jennifer hugged the pillow as if it were a life line and after about 40 strokes with the belt she was biting into it as a coping mechanism to take the pain. She couldn’t help the crying, but was determined not to revert to the “little girl” crying. She wanted to take this like a woman.
After 50 strokes, her mom stopped spanking her and handed the belt to her father.
“You can stand up for a moment, Jennifer,” her mom said.
She took the opportunity to stand up and rub her bottom, blowing quick breaths out into the air. She then wiped tears from her face. Her father waited for her to compose herself and then told her to bend back over. As she did and her skirt rode up again, they could see how red the part of her exposed bottom cheeks were.
“You know,” her mom said, “I hate to do this, but…”
She walked over and pulled her daughter’s skirt fully up.
“What are you doing, mom? Why?” Jennifer protested.
“I know you’re not comfortable with this and I know your dad’s not either, but we need to see what we’re doing to your bottom,” her mom said.
Jennifer buried her face into the pillow in reluctant consent. Her father knew she needed to be punished but felt sorry for her. He tried his best to match the severity and pace of the spanking that his wife had just been giving. He thought he was close to that, but of course it was hard to tell because Jennifer’s reactions were so strong at that point. She’d already essentially had a belt spanking and was now getting a second one on top of that, now with less cloth covering her skin.
The thin panties offered little resistance to the belt and soon the tears were flowing again. As the strokes passed 60 and 70, Jennifer did result to some “little girl” crying, but by 80 she’d again regained control. Biting down on the pillow and hugging as hard as she could proved to be the best way for her to cope.
Seeing that the belt lines crossing on her bottom were starting to form bruises, her dad lightened up the spanking some more. They felt it would be a bad example not to give her the 100 strokes, even if they couldn’t all be teach-a-lesson severe. But even with somewhat lightened strokes, Jennifer felt like her bottom was on fire and instead of putting the fire out, they were stoking it.
Finally, the last stroke fell and she was allowed to stand again. Her pouting, tear-streaked and flushed face showed that she had been punished and that she truly wouldn’t be forgetting this any time soon. She tugged her skirt down and rubbed her bottom. She looked, wide-eyed at her parents, hardly believing that this had happened. They’d actually gone through with it.
“That hurt so much…” Jennifer said flatly. Her parents nodded in agreement. “But it’s done. Fresh start?”
“Of course,” her father said.
Her mom reached out to hug Jennifer, who hugged back trying valiantly not to completely break down. They all knew their relationships as family had reached a milestone and that this was the beginning of what would be Jennifer’s adult relationship with her parents.