SpankFight
© Guyspencer 2012
SpankFight
Author’s note: This is fiction. It is emphatically NOT parenting advice.
Returning home from a short shopping trip, Ann heard the noise as soon as she parked her car. Her two teens were fighting again. She ran in to break up the melee. They were in their shared bedroom. She found her daughter, Amy sitting on top of her son, Brad. Both were shouting at the top of their lungs. Pinned to the floor, and bleeding from a wound on his cheek, Brad seemed to be getting the worse of it.
Part of the problem is that shared bedroom. Ann wondered; why do they build two bedroom homes? Don’t they understand that kids come in two, very separate flavors? The master bedroom is occupied by her and her husband John, so that only leaves one other to be shared among whatever children they produce. On her husband's military pay, adding bedrooms is impossible. On the plus side, their beloved little home beats anything in base housing.
That shared bedroom is one reason why the two kids have grown up so close, but also a reason why they have these violent fights occasionally. Sharing a bedroom means it’s just impossible for them to ignore each other. Amy and Brad have been taught to respect each other’s privacy, but also not to make a big deal of a bit of nudity when it inevitably happens. Of necessity, they have been raised knowing what the other’s body looks like.
Separating her two kids, Ann ordered Amy to stay in the bedroom, and then took Brad into the kitchen to treat his wound. The wound bled impressively, but was only a minor scratch that didn’t even require a Band-Aid. With the boy cleaned up, she took him firmly by the arm then deposited him in her own bedroom with instructions to shower.
Back in the teen’s bedroom, she confronted Amy.
“What did I tell you would happen the next time you and Brad got into a fight?”
It took three tries before Amy gave a straight answer, “You told us we would have to do a SpankFight until both our bottoms were red, and then you would spank us both.” Amy mumbled, “But PLEASE Mommy, that wouldn’t be fair! That little twerp started it! You can't let HIM spank ME!”
Ann didn’t rise to the bait, “Weren't you sitting on top of her brother screaming, hitting and scratching him?”
Amy looked at the floor.
Ann bore in, “And which one of you two is the oldest and should know better.”
Amy conceded defeat, but not without one last try at a reduced sentence, “OK Mommy, I guess you’re right, but can’t you just spank me and get it over with? It isn’t fair to let Brad spank me.”
“Don’t worry,” Ann replied with irony in her voice, “You’ll get your shot at Brad also. If I know you, you’ll make a good job of it too.”
Ann picked up Brad’s pajamas, then left Amy with specific instructions to shower then put on her pajamas; without panties.
Back in her one bedroom, she found Brad in the shower. She confiscated his clothing, substituting his pajamas.
“Put on your PJ’s then stay in my room,” she yelled through the shower door. “I’ll deal with you and your sister after we’ve all had time to cool down.”
Knowing that there was a spanked bottom in his near future, the boy replied “Yes Mommy.”
_______________
The “SpankFight” was her husband’s idea. Truth was, the first time that John suggested it, Ann was downright repelled. “Let our kids spank each other on their bare bottoms until they’ve used up all their anger? No! That’s just not right. Parents should teach kids to resolve their differences without aggression,” she told him confidently.
But John, a Marine and a warrior, understood aggression like Ann never could.
“Excess aggression is like a boil,” he said, “You need to lance it and get all that corruption out of your system. Bottoms are tough. A SpankFight is far safer than a (say) a boxing match”
Naturally, John had prevailed, though fortunately the SpankFight was rarely used in their family. Ultimately, she had to admit that the technique worked; at least it worked for Amy and Brad.
Her thoughts turned to John. Oh John! John had been deployed now for 11 months. So Ann was alone with this problem, alone for at least another month. Brad and Amy loved each other, but their fights were getting more frequent and more violent. Last time she had told them that if she caught them fighting again, they would get a SpankFight followed by a spanking “They wouldn't soon forget.” Now she was locked in, she must deliver the promised punishment or lose their respect.
She thought again of John, dreaming of his return. Oh how she wished he were here today. Not only here to help her with the kids, but a woman has other needs! The life of a military wife is dammed with long separations, but blessed with periodic honeymoons. Next month, the three of them would meet John’s plane. Ann would get a breathtaking squeeze and an ardent kiss from her husband. She would cry, she always did, but it’s a “good” cry. Then John would turn his attention to his beloved teen children.
At home, John would spend a couple of hours catching up on whatever was happening in Brad & Amy's lives, but would say little about his deployment. As he talked to his kids, his hand would stray further up Ann’s thigh than it probably should in front of the kids. Then finally, Ann and John would say something about being “tired” and head hand-in-hand for the bedroom. No longer fooled by that old ploy, Amy and Brad would smirk after them.
Their first coupling would be mostly for John’s benefit, though Ann wouldn’t miss it for the world! She knew it is impossible for a man to store up a year’s worth of seed, but when he ejaculated for the first time after deployment, it always felt like he would fill her up! After that first climax, there was always a certain sound he would make; it only happened once after each deployment. It was sort of a combination grunt, sigh, and meow. Then he would relax; truly relax, for the first time since leaving for deployment. That was the moment that Ann always felt her husband had truly returned. After his release, he would melt into Ann, and then nap while still inside her. Shortly later, he would awake for an encore performance. This time, he would ensure that Ann also gained release. Over the next days & weeks they would do their best to make up for lost time. That included spanking games whenever they could get the house to themselves.
As pleasant as all that wool gathering about her husband was (actually it was beyond pleasant, it had left her wet.) She still had those darn kids to deal with. It was time to stop daydreaming and get back to being a mommy.
She went to get Amy. Amy was crying in her bedroom, begging to be let off. Ann was tempted to weaken, but no! The kids needed to be punished. She sent Amy to close the living room windows and curtains.
Then she got Brad. She told him to move a dining room chair to the middle of the living room.
In the living room she gave the kids one last lecture about anger management. It didn’t help much. The two were still glaring at each other!
“Oh well” thought Ann. From past experience, she knew that the results from this punishment would likely last at least until John got home. Finally, she reminded them about the rules for a SpankFight. There could be as many “rounds” as necessary, but it didn’t end until, 1) they both had bright red bottoms, and 2) they got over being mad at each other.
She pulled a coin from a pocket. “Call it Amy.” she said.
Amy swallowed nervously before finally calling “heads?”
Ann flipped the coin into the air, and then allowed it to tumble to the ground. It landed heads up.
“OK Amy,” Ann said, “You get your choice. Do you want to give first or receive first?”
Without enthusiasm, she replied. “I’ll receive first.”
“OK kids,” Ann said in a businesslike tone. Brad you sit in the chair. Amy, get them down to your knees then get into position.
Soon, Amy’s bare bottom was properly positioned across her brother’s lap. She supported herself by grabbing the chair legs. As usual, the spanking started slowly. Brad was hesitant to really spank his sister because they would soon be changing roles, then she would retaliate.
After about three minutes of light smacking, Amy was barely squirming her lightly pink bottom. Brad looked up at his mother. He found no approval, but she asked “You’re done for now? He nodded. “Well switch places then.”
Pulling her pants up quickly, Amy stood, and then took the chair recently emptied by her brother. Brad dropped his PJ bottoms and put himself across his sister’s lap.
Amy also started out tentatively, but as usual, she didn’t have the self-discipline to totally pass up this opportunity. After the first couple of minutes, her spanks gradually became distinctly sharper. Brad started squirming and struggling, which only encouraged Amy. By the time Amy stopped, out of breath, Brad was sobbing.
Now it was Brad’s turn again. His stinging butt, and especially his unwanted tears, had combined to make him slightly angry. Being a couple years older, Amy had a height and weight advantage over Brad. Thanks to school sports, Brad had the advantage in upper body strength. In short, they were well matched in a spanking contest.
With Brad back in the chair, and Amy’s bared bottom over his lap, Brad resumed spanking his sister. This time, he didn’t hold back. Amy tried not to show she was being hurt, which only made things worse for her. Ann smiled grimly at the spectacle of her daughter drumming her feet on the ground, begging for mercy before finally dissolving into tears.
Winded, Brad stopped. It was a minute or two before the girl could gather herself together enough to get up. She didn’t bother to pull up her pants at first, preferring to prance and rub her inflamed bare bottom.
Finally, Amy was back in the chair, ready for her second go at Brad's bare bottom. She spanked full strength as Brad responded loudly, all bravado gone. Fortunately for Brad, Amy tired quickly. Standing again, his tears gradually lessened as he rubbed his bottom. Finally he pulled up his pants.
“Will there be another round?” Ann asked, genuinely curious.
The two siblings looked at each other. Finally Brad shyly offered his hand. She took it. The handshake became a hug. The two kids mutually apologized. The “SpankFight was over, though in Ann’s opinion Brad got the worst of it.
Now it was Ann’s turn. As the SpankFight had played out, Ann was making decisions. Spanking them both was certain; but would it be by hand, hairbrush, or belt? She decided that the situation was too serious for a hand spanking, but she hated the belt. So the hairbrush won.
“Do I have a volunteer to go first, or do we flip a coin?” she asked. Amy looked devastated; she had momentarily forgotten that her mother had promised them additional punishment. Quickly, Brad raised his hand. He wanted to get it over.
“Ok, PJ bottoms down.” she commanded as she sat in the spanking chair. She looked at Brad meaningfully and patted her lap. “Amy, will you please get my hairbrush from my dresser?” she asked. Reluctantly, knowing she was fetching the feared instrument for herself as well as her brother, Amy obeyed.
Gathering up her skirt, she sat on the chair, spread her legs, and then urged Brad between them. The boy had lowered his pants to his knees, but Ann pushed them down to his ankles before bending him over her leg. With the boy carefully positioned over her left leg so she would have full access to his bottom, she pinioned his legs by crossing her right leg behind his knees. Now, sensing that he was being locked into place for an extraordinary spanking, Brad started to beg and sob. Reluctantly he proffered his right hand for her to trap at the small of his back. Now he was forced to uncomfortably support himself with one hand on the floor.
“Get over here where I can see you Missy.” She said to Amy. “I only want to say this once.” Still holding the hairbrush, Amy moved near Brad's head. “Are you listening too Brad?” He nodded.
“A spanking is our way of teaching you a lesson when every other method has failed.” Looking at Amy she asked “What's today's lesson?”
“Don't fight?” she asked.
“Yes.” the mother said. When you can't stand to be together, find some way to get distance between you. If you think the other is really misbehaving, then see me or Daddy and we'll deal with it for you. Got it?”
Both teens nodded.
“OK” Ann said with real determination in her voice. “Every time you sit down for the next few days, you will feel a little unpleasant reminder. When you feel that little pain, that's to remind you of this lesson...right?”
Again both teens nodded, although Brad fully realized that he was signaling the start of his spanking.
Ann reached for the brush. For a moment, Amy had forgotten she was holding it. When she realized it was in her hand, she thrust it towards her mother as if it were scalding hot.
Moments later, the spanking was underway, and Brad was screeching and ineffectually kicking his feet. Each blow from the brush flattened the targeted buttock, then caused quickly- dampening quakes and waves in his firm flesh. His already-red buttocks became much darker, and tinged with purple.
Even though he had very limited mobility of his legs, Brad managed to kick off his PJ bottoms.
Ann looked up to see Amy watching open-mouthed, aghast. Taking pity, she decided to distract the girl. “I'll need a damp washcloth to wash Brad's face when this is over. Please go get me two of them.” Doubtless, that second washcloth was for use on her own face, after her own spanking, but Amy was happy for something to do. As she walked to the linen closet the sounds of her brother's spanking still filled the house. She ducked into the bathroom to dampen the washcloths. The running water plus her nerves combined to make a stop necessary. As she walked back into the living room, Brad's spanking was nearly over, her mother delivering her trademark finishing “scorchers” to his sit spots.
Brad bawled unabashedly. As Mother let him up, Amy could see that he was bright red halfway down to his knees. His buttocks and sit spots had been spanked to a particularly dark and splotchy hue, which Amy recognized would turn into lasting spank-marks. Her brother had been seriously spanked; but now it was her turn!
Leaving the pantless boy to rub and prance, Mother turned her attention to Amy. “OK, Missy. Come over here, push them down to your ankles, and then let's get you situated.” Her stomach twisting inside her, Amy obeyed like an automaton.
At times like this, Ann was always reminded how fast her little girl was growing up. Amy’s newly flaring hips accentuated her tiny belly, which was decorated by a shallow navel. Her pubic hair, once sparse, had turned luxurious. As the girl bent over Ann's left leg, it was obvious that her bottom had become a perfect male-magnet. Ann had to suppress the impulse to “protect” her fragile-looking darling by slacking off on her planned punishment. No! That wouldn't do. Ann picked up the hairbrush and put on her “game face”.
To the best of Ann's ability, the ensuing paddling was a carbon copy of the one she had just delivered to Brad, but you wouldn't know it! When it comes to paddlings, Amy was a drama queen. As soon as she felt the new heat in her buns, she screamed, bucked, and twisted with her full strength. It was all Ann could do to hold her daughter, but hold her she did. Although larger than her brother, she fortunately couldn't match him in strength or stamina, so her struggles ebbed much faster than the spanking did. But not so her voice! Her howls and cries continued to fill the house.
Brad had little interest in watching his sister's spanking. At the moment, his mind was on his own bottom. Still sobbing a bit, he found his PJ bottoms then gingerly pulled them on. That was difficult because sitting down was unthinkable, yet his balance wasn't yet to be trusted. Finally he managed by leaning against a wall.
Meanwhile, Amy’s paddling continued unabated. She didn't manage to kick off her pajama bottoms. Instead, they dangled from her feet inside-out and upside-down. When Ann was finally done spanking Amy, she reached over to disengage the mess from the girl’s feet, leaving her naked from the waist down. At the moment, Amy had little concern for modesty. Just as her brother had done earlier, she bawled, danced, and rubbed her outraged nates.
Now Ann went into “mother mode”. She used a damp washcloth to wash Brad's face, and then tenderly hugged him, telling him softly that all was forgiven. After doing the same with Amy, she escorted them both to their bedroom for lotion and several minutes of loving and reassurance before she left them in bed, even though it was barely dark.
Looking back at the incident, Ann later decided that the punishment had been useful. No, it didn't turn out to be the kid's last fight, but at least they managed to confine themselves to oral arguments after that. There were no more problems with violence after that day.
Oh yes! One month later. John returned from deployment as scheduled. John and Ann's post-deployment “honeymoon” (including the spanking games) was everything she dreamed it would be.
© Guyspencer 2012