Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Asking For It Early

© Guyspencer 2011
“Asking For It Early”

A mother knows these things; Beth knew that something was on her daughter’s mind.  She had noticed it building all weekend, and knew that eventually her daughter would share.  The teen had been on restriction for the last week, and still had five days to go.  Restriction was a hated punishment for Sue, but was also hard on her parents.  Every day Sue had to come home directly from school, change into her PJs and immediately start her homework.  While on restriction, her bedtime was 8 PM, barely after dark.       

Monday afternoon, Sue asked to talk.  Beth took the girl into the kitchen, made them both a cup of herbal tea, and encouraged her to speak her mind.  It took a while, but finally she blurted it out: “This waiting is hell.  Can…can I please have my spanking early? My bottom is all healed from my paddling.” She added hopefully.

Sue had gotten in big trouble at school; cheating.  With her parent’s blessing, the Principal had given her an epic dose of his paddle.  Her bottom was too bruised for her parents to consider a spanking that night, so after a long talk she was sentenced to two weeks of restriction, to be punctuated by a bedtime spanking on the final evening.  Today was only Monday; her restriction wouldn’t be over until Friday.

Beth considered the proposition.  Truth was, the parents also hated the waiting.  They truly hated to spank their darling, and wished that they could have done it immediately so the ordeal wouldn’t be hanging over the family like some Sword of Damocles.     

Beth temporized: “I’ll discuss this with your father.  The waiting is part of your punishment, so we may compensate by making any early spanking a bit harder.  Is that OK?”

Sue gulped, but finally agreed.

“Either way, you’re still on restriction until Friday.” Beth warned.  “Do you still want this?  There won’t be any changing your mind. We don’t negotiate punishments.”

Wide-eyed, Sue agreed.

“OK then” Beth said in a firm tone, “I’ll tell your father that you want your spanking sooner than Friday.  I don’t know what we’ll decide, but be in your bed every night by eight and be ready to be spanked.  It will definitely happen one bedtime between today and Friday, but I don’t know which day.  Until then, this discussion is over.”

It wasn’t exactly the answer that Sue was hoping for, but she hugged her mother and thanked her for listening.  With her mind in a whirl and her abdomen full of butterflies, she went off to do her homework.

Her father arrived from work at the usual time.  In her room, Sue strained her sharp ears for any hint of conversation between her parents.  She heard nothing helpful.

Sue’s parents were grown-up California hippies.  They were slim folks who still ate macrobiotic foods, wore oddly-shaped Birkenstock shoes, and felt vaguely embarrassed by the fat Silicon Valley paychecks their UC Berkeley educations commanded.  Not surprisingly, they held a strange mixture of new age and traditional ideas.  Politically liberal, they were environmentally conscious folks who literally hugged trees, and wouldn’t think of hurting any wild creature.  Their parenting ideas however, were distinctly traditional.  Though kind & gentle people, they took their parenting responsibilities very seriously, especially discipline.  While spankings were rare in Sue’s home, they were always memorable events.   Never spanking in anger, the parents always discussed and mutually agreed before announcing any punishment.  Spankings were always at bedtime, simply because it seemed a tranquil, distraction-free time

Their discussion over, the parents called Sue down to supper.  Both were cheerful, as if nothing had changed.  Sue wanted to ask, but her mother had been clear that questions wouldn’t be welcome.  Besides, part of her was afraid to know.

After supper, Sue helped her mother with dishes.  She tried a hint or two, but was rebuffed.  Back up in her room, Sue finished her homework and readied herself for bed.  This was always the hardest time when she was on restriction because she was allowed none of her usual diversions.  Given the definite possibility of an imminent spanking, today was even worse!

Shortly before 8, she went downstairs to kiss her parents goodnight.  She received friendly hugs as if nothing was different.  Sue went up to her room, turned out the lights, and listened sharply for any parental feet climbing the stairway.  From past experience, she knew that bedtime spankings always happened shortly after “lights out”. 

Heart pounding fiercely, she waited.  Her parent’s usual spanking procedure was to come upstairs shortly after bedtime, turn on the lights, and then deliver a no-nonsense spanking.  Then she would be hugged, forgiven, tears dried, and then lovingly put back to bed. 

But tonight, nothing happened.  When it became obvious that they weren‘t coming tonight, her heart rate gradually diminished.  She felt mixed emotions, disappointment and relief.  Drifting half asleep, she imagined herself bare-bottomed across her father’s lap.  Her hand found a dampness somewhere below her bellybutton.  For a few minutes, her heart resumed its frenetic pounding, as if she were really being spanked.  Shortly later, the exhausted girl fell deeply asleep. 

Tuesday at school felt really strange.  Concentrating seemed impossible.  Was today the day?  Sometimes she felt relieved that she might get her spanking that evening, and sometimes she felt scared and stupid for trying to rush her parents.  The day finally passed; another school day, another day’s homework, another quiet supper with her pleasant but inscrutable parents, another dull evening on restriction, capped by another early bedtime.

By now, Sue had almost concluded that her parents intended to make her wait until Friday, but still the act of turning out the lights and pulling up the blankets gave her a thrill of dread.  Fifteen minutes later, Sue had drifted into that hazy, sexually-charged no-man’s-land between wakefulness and sleep when she heard a stirring outside her bedroom door.    

Her parents crept into the bedroom and turned on the lights.  Sue blinked owlishly. 
The change was almost instantaneous:  From the languor of near sleep, Sue’s entire body went on alert.  Her heart started pounding, blood roared through her ears, and a flock of butterflies attacked her tummy.  Automatically, she threw back the covers and sat up on the edge of her bed.

Mother sat next to Sue and put a comforting arm around her.  “You probably aren’t thrilled just now, but we’re granting your wish.  You get your spanking three days early.”

Suddenly choked up and with tears welling up, Sue managed to squeak in a tiny voice, “OK”.

Mother gave her an answering squeeze, then said, “First, take off those pajamas” 

“I’m…I’m not wearing panties” Sue warned in a vulnerable voice, looking meaningfully at her father.

“Modesty is good” mother said firmly, “but cheating calls for a serious punishment.  They come off.”

Sobbing slightly, Sue relinquished her pajama top, then stood and slid her bottoms to the floor.  She stood before her parents with her newly-blossoming body on display.  Her father squirmed uncomfortably.

Sue stood in the classic pose of the unwillingly-nude maiden.  One arm across her burgeoning breasts, the other hiding her lowest curls.  Both parents thought to make her uncover herself, but both simultaneously came to the same decision:  Their job was to punish Sue, not to heap on extra humiliation.   

The father cleared his throat, “Explain to us why you’re being punished”.

Sue choked out the sad, disgraceful story.

“And why was that wrong?”

 Through increasing sobs, Sue managed a reasonable explanation.

“You explained that pretty well” the father said.  “Is there anything you wish to say before we start?”

Struggling to control her waterworks, Sue shook her head.

Mother crooked a finger at her, “Then let’s start.  I’ll give you a good warm-up spanking.  Then your father will finish your punishment with the hairbrush.”  

For the first time, Sue noticed the waiting hairbrush and fully realized its implication.  She had only felt that hairbrush once before, and was deadly afraid of it. 

Sue lost it.

It took a few minutes for mother to calm Sue down and coax her across her lap.

There’s really nothing special to say about the hand spanking that followed, except that most would consider it far more than just a “warm-up” spanking.  Beth was almost clinical in her thoroughness as she spanked every inch of Sue’s bottom & thighs to a livid shade of red.  Sue did her best to cooperate, but still she screeched and twisted and kicked.  Twice she almost twisted herself off of her mother’s lap, but each time Beth patiently and implacably repositioned her, and then started anew.

Battling conflicting emotions, Father watched the action with increasing unease.  His daughter’s blossoming nude body forcibly reminded him of the first time he had undressed Beth, then his teenaged future wife.  That had been among the most memorable, and most stimulating, events of his life.  As he watched his daughter’s bottom bounce, squirm and redden under her mother’s punishing hand, he was horrified to feel an unwelcome swelling.  He wanted to flee and leave Sue’s punishment to Beth, but feelings of parental responsibility kept him rooted to the spot.  He knew now that he couldn’t take his nude daughter across his lap.  That would be too much like incest.  He needed another plan.        

Finally Beth’s task was over.  Beth rubbed her daughter’s back until her crying diminished, and then helped her to her feet.  Both parents watched with wet eyes as their daughter pranced, sobbed, and rubbed her livid bottom.


As it turned out, Sue’s parents had been happy to grant her request to take her spanking early.  They hated the wait almost as much as she.  However, Sue was never told the story of why she wasn’t spanked until Tuesday.

Sue’s father, Fred, was hardly an experienced spanker.  Uncomfortable with his feelings for his quickly-developing daughter, he greatly preferred to leave Sue’s rare spankings to his wife.  He was even less experienced with the hairbrush.  No weakling, he dared not wield it with his full strength, but was equally afraid of sending the wrong message by spanking too softly.  However, he agreed with his wife that Sue deserved the hairbrush and that it should be him who “did the job”. What to do?

It was Beth who provided the answer that Monday afternoon while the two had been talking.  In an act of sacrifice only a loving mother could make, Beth offered her own bottom for her husband to practice on.

That Monday night, when sure that Sue was asleep, they retired to their bedroom.  Beth disrobed.  Faking a confidence he didn’t really feel, Fred ordered Beth to place her still-nubile body across his lap.  She struggled to hold back her tears as Fred warmed her bottom with a short but energetic hand spanking.  Once her bottom was nicely pink, she carefully buried her face in a pillow while Fred brandished the hairbrush, trapped her legs with one of his, and firmly restrained her torso.  They had agreed on a safety signal so Beth could stop proceedings, but Beth had no plans to use it.        

Steeling himself, Fred raised the hairbrush

While Beth bucked and squealed, Fred laid four scorching spanks on each of his wife’s buttocks, then two firm spanks to each sit spot.

The agreed spanking delivered, and feeling a bit like a bully, Fred comforted his sobbing wife.  After a survey of the “damage” they agreed that Fred’s swing had been sufficiently calibrated.

The mutual “comforting” that followed evolved into the best sex the couple had enjoyed in ages.  Though enjoyable, this sudden connection between sex and spanking served to discomfort Fred even more at the prospect of spanking his teenaged daughter.

But that happened yesterday; now Fred had to deal with today’s drama…  


Finally Sue’s sobbing decreased.  As her senses returned, her eyes focused; focused on that damn brush!  Against her will, her eyes shifted from the brush to her father.  Fred caught the look.  Ready or not, it was time for the father’s part in this spanking.

He held out his arms and she came to him.  He wrapped his arms around her, but mindful of her nakedness, didn’t offer his usual full-body hug.  The result was awkward, but better than nothing.  He stared into her face; partly to assure her attention, and partly so he wouldn’t look at her body. “Are you ready to finish this?” he asked.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

“Spankings are for punishment” he said “but it’s also the way we teach you important lessons that you demonstrate you need.  What’s today’s lesson?” 

“D…d…don’t cheat?”

“That’s good” Father agreed, “But ‘cheating doesn’t pay’ is better.  It’s not just cheating in school, but all kinds of cheating, such as cheating at your job, or cheating in relationships.  All kinds of cheating can lead to trouble.  Honesty is almost always better.”

“So what’s tonight’s lesson?”

“Cheating doesn’t pay.” Sue replied dutifully.
“Good” Father enthused, “And just to help remind you of that lesson, we’ll fix your bottom so that you feel a bit of pain whenever you sit for the next few days.  Whenever you feel that pain, that’s your cue to remember tonight’s lesson, OK?”

Without enthusiasm, Sue agreed.

Father swallowed hard, picked up the hairbrush, and continued.  “OK, assuming you cooperate, this can be over quickly.  Your bottom is nice and red, but I intend to add some hairbrush marks that you’ll feel for the next few days.”

Resigned to her fate, Sue started to bend over her father’s lap, but he stopped her.

“No.  Let’s do this another way” he said quickly.

Standing, he rearranged the pillows on Sue’s bed, and then motioned her onto it.  “Lay down on your bed with your knees under you.  Now hug this pillow and don’t let go.”

Fred picked up the hairbrush and looked at his daughter.  This position, with her bare bottom jutting into the air, hid some of her charms but accentuated others.   It would have to do.

“The better you cooperate, the sooner we’ll be done.  So try to hold that position.”

“SPLAT” the hairbrush made an amazingly loud sound as it collided with Sue’s right buttock.  She gasped and rocked forward, but grimly stayed in place.

Deliberately, the father delivered 15 more scorching blows to Sue’s bottom, each hard enough to leave a lasting brush-shaped mark.  He distributed them evenly, five to each cheek, three to each sit spot.  By the time he was done, Sue was shrieking into her pillow and her bottom was a study in motion.  

It took the parents another 30 minutes to tend to their daughter.  They had to calm her, kiss away her tears, remake her bed, and tuck her in. Finally, reluctantly they left after lingering hugs and kisses.  Freshly spanked and freshly forgiven, Sue would shed a few last tears into her pillow before drifting off into endorphin-assisted slumber.


Downstairs, the couple unwound over a modest Napa Chardonnay.  Fred was unusually quiet.  Beth hadn’t missed Fred’s erection while she had been spanking Sue, and guessed his inner turmoil.  She brought up the subject obliquely; “That was really hard for you wasn’t it Fred?”

“You have no idea.” he groused. 

“Mixed emotions…right?”

Fred thought for a moment: “Yes, you could say that.”

“Sue’s really filling out…right?  Sort of reminds you of how I looked a few years ago?”

“Well yes:” Fred said, “now that you mention it.”

“Fred” she purred, “You’re a great father, but your brain is hard-wired in a very male way.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  When something triggers that ancient mating impulse, just direct that extra sexual energy towards your wife, and we’ll both win.” 

Just then, he realized that Beth’s hand was busy in his lap.  He returned the favor. 
Soon they were necking and kissing deeply.  Shortly thereafter, they retired to their bedroom.  In their private haven, Beth had one more surprise for Fred.  Naked, she crawled across his lap and encouraged him to try a new experience, an erotic spanking.

The idea was an instant hit.       

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Anonymous Anonymous said...

As the victim of sexual abuse as a teenager, I don't agree with the end of this story. A parent who's noticed arousal during punishment of his or her teenager should take a more hands off role immediately. My stepfather used any excuse to physically punish me and my sister so he could "whet his appetite" watching us do our dance of pain and then have wonderful sex with our mom. He physically and sexually assaulted us by using us as spanko porn to liven up his sex life. And each of us is still carrying the scars in different ways. My sister developed overactive sex hormones and the need to be a sex toy in order to feel loved. She got pregnant twice before her 18th birthday, has been married thrice, and has 5 kids by 4 men. I am the opposite - I was so traumatized I can't bear to get intimate with a man because I subconsciously equate sex with pain and violence. I want to be a mom but am scared of the babymaking process AND the warped minds I may accidentally create due to my own warped ideas. I know my conscious mind that I'm being irrational and all that, but my subconscious won't allow me to think or act in an acceptable way, because of the unintentional and deep seated lessons I learned growing up.

8:06 AM, November 06, 2016  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm very sorry about your abuse growing up. However, if that is true, why are you reading entertainment spanking stories? Some very well adjusted and good and decent parents in real life, like to write and/or read spanking stories. I know, I'm one. What I would really like for you to do is to seek out a qualified therapist that can help you sort through your painful childhood and move into a happy healthy adulthood, no matter your age or location. In the meantime, there is nothing wrong with a healthy spanking relationship between 2 healthy adults. Best wishes to you, I hope you heal and have an incredible life !

12:58 PM, January 30, 2017  

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