Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Amanda’s Curiosity

   
© Guyspencer 2014
    
                                                        Amanda’s Curiosity

It was a rare evening!  Amanda’s father was gone for an unusual business trip, and Amanda’s brother was off to a Boy Scout jamboree, leaving the home to just Amanda and her mother.  It was to be a night “just for the girls”.

June, Amanda's mother, had offered to take Amanda out for a special dinner, but was surprised when her daughter had asked for a quiet evening at home.  “We can talk” Amanda had explained, “just the two of us”.  This surprised June.  Amanda was a good girl, but the seventeen-year-old didn’t often wish to spend time making small talk with her parents.  June assumed that something was up with Amanda, but decided to let the girl disclose it in her own time, and in her own way.

So they cooked dinner together, set a fancy table, and then enjoyed their special supper.  Later, as they stood with their shoulders nearly touching as they washed the dishes, June noticed her daughter becoming increasing quiet.  Amanda’s face was an open book to her mother, and now it revealed tenseness.
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Had you been in that kitchen watching the rear view of the two females working at the sink, you would have been hard put to tell them apart.  Amanda had been born when June was barely twenty.  Now middle aged, June remained amazingly well preserved and still had the slim body that had attracted her husband nearly twenty years ago. 

Amanda had blossomed early into a beautiful, shapely young woman.  She was the same height as her mother, the same color hair, and their weights were within ten pounds of each other.  When the two finished washing the dishes and turned around, you would notice that the resemblance continued!  In fact, in public the two were often mistaken for each other.  Mother and daughter shared a good relationship, so they just laughed at the occasional mistaken identity.   

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Expressing a desire to “get comfortable”, Amanda disappeared upstairs for a quick shower.  She returned in her favorite pajamas.  The two shared tea along with their delayed desert.

Finally Amanda cleared her throat, “Er Mom?” 

“Yes dear?”

“Since we’re alone tonight, can we talk; really talk?”

“Certainly Honey, what’s on your mind?”

“It’s kind of personal...“

The mother spoke in an encouraging tone, “This is the perfect time then.  This is just between us girls, and you can trust me not to freak out, so let’s have it”.

“Well I’ve been wondering Mom.  Will you tell me what it’s like?  I mean, what it’s really like!”

June was afraid that she was being asked to describe the sensations of intercourse to her daughter.  But before framing an answer, she first needed a more explicit question, “What exactly are you asking me about Honey?”

There was a delay before Amanda could bring herself to spit out the word.  When she did, the girl spoke so low that June had to ask her to repeat it.  It was a surprise! 

“Spanking”.

“What Honey?”

“Spanking.  I know that my Grandparents used to spank you.  What is it like?”

June didn’t know weather to be relieved or not that she had guessed Amanda’s subject matter wrongly.  Why was Amanda asking about spanking?

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Indeed, June had been subject to parental spankings until she had been married in her late teens.  She held no grudge over that, always feeling that her parents had treated her fairly and had always given her fair warning.  Still, spanking wasn’t a big part of June and her husband’s parenting style.  Spankings weren’t ruled out in their home, they just weren’t high on their list of discipline alternatives.

As it turns out, Amanda had never been spanked.  She had never been spanked simply because other discipline techniques had always worked with her.  About a year previously, Amanda’s brother had been spanked, but June wasn’t even sure if Amanda had been aware of that sad incident.

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So June answered her daughter’s question as honestly as she could, “I hated it Amanda.  You can’t believe how much it hurts.  That’s why it was so effective for me.  I never had to be spanked for the same thing twice.  I always learned my lesson.”

“Does that answer your question?” June asked hopefully.

“Ummm,” Amanda temporized.  “Not really.  Do you mind talking about this?  Does it embarrass you?”

“Like I said”, June soothed, “It’s just us girls.  Nothing is too embarrassing tonight as long as we both agree that it all stays here.”

What followed was sort of an interview, where Amanda dragged out the details of her mother’s childhood spankings.  Her spankings were always given to the bare bottom, but normally privately.  When June had hit puberty, her father had left her spankings to June’s mother, who was very good at it!  June’s mother usually spanked with only her hand, but added the hairbrush when extra severity was called for.  Spankings were usually given in her parent’s bedroom, usually in the evening.  After having been spanked, June had been expected to go straight to bed.

“How did spankings make you feel?” Amanda asked.

June paused, weighing her answer carefully because this is where her memories of her spankings became more complicated.  “That’s not a simple question,” June explained.  “Like I said, I hated to be spanked.  Spankings hurt!  I would cry and (I suppose) screech while I was being spanked, and I would cry for a long time after it was over.  But after that, things were much better because I knew that I was forgiven and that was the end of it.  Also, spanking is an emotional event, and it has a way of releasing tensions.  So strangely, a good spanking can make you feel at least temporarily better.  Mom always cuddled me after a spanking.  Once my panties were back on, mommy would open the bedroom door.  That was my father’s signal to come in to hug and kiss me, and to sooth me.  Don’t get me wrong though, Grandpa was no pushover.  He always supported Grandma 100 percent when I needed to be punished!”

“What was your last spanking for?”

“That one was the worst of all,” June said truthfully.  “I was caught with cigarettes.  I got the hairbrush, I got it hard!  I felt the results of that spanking for several days after.  It was the last time I touched cigarettes.”

June shuddered at the thought of that long-ago spanking, but she didn’t miss noticing an odd look on her daughter’s face.
 
Finally, they had exhausted the subject, but it was clear to June that something was still on Amanda’s mind.  Something big!  So June simply waited.  She would pry if necessary, but she preferred for Amanda to bring it up in her own way.

There was a long silence.

Finally Amanda took a deep breath  

“Mommy, we need to talk.  I’ll be right back.”

Almost terminally curious, June held her silence and watched her daughter depart the room.  Amanda returned moments later with something in her fist.  Unable to look her mother in the eye, she handed the object over.

It was an open pack of cigarettes.

June kept her voice even, “How long have you been smoking Amanda?”

“I – I just got these yesterday.  I tried a couple.  They’re nasty.”

Wanting to shout but using her kindest voice, June asked, “Are we still being honest with each other here Amanda?  Don’t sugarcoat anything.  Let’s have it all out.”

Wide-eyed, Amanda nodded.  “These are my first cigarettes ever.  I know how you feel about them, and I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it.”

“Who did you get them from Amanda?  You’re not old enough yet to buy them.”

“I–I didn’t get them from anybody,” Amanda tried to explain.  “I mean – I bought them myself at a store.”

Honestly puzzled, June asked, “But how did you do that?  You found a store that doesn’t ask for an ID?”

Amanda dug a toe into the carpet.  Obviously she had been hoping this question wouldn’t come up.  Amanda wanted truthfulness, but not this much truthfulness!

Finally it came out, “Um Mom, you know how you and I sort of look alike?  Well I sort of borrowed your ID card.  But I put it right back in your purse when I was done!”

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June was floored!  On one hand, this was worse than anything she had imagined.  But on the other hand, no real harm had been done.  Was this real?  Or was it just something that Amanda had cooked up because she was curious about spankings?  Well, that pack of cigarettes was real enough! 

June stumbled into the kitchen and poured herself another cup of tea as she gathered her thoughts.  A clear path of action quickly occurred to her, but she took her time to consider alternatives.  She thought it through several times to convince herself she wasn’t acting out of anger, horror, or fear.  After careful thought, her first idea still sounded good to her. 

All this time Amanda watched, tears leaking from her eyes.  That pack of cigarettes sat accusingly on the coffee table

Jane returned, and looked her progeny straight in the eyes. “Let me get this straight,” she finally said.  “First you ask me all about what it’s like to get spanked, and then you present me with an airtight reason to spank you.  Do I have that right?”

“It’s not like that --” Amanda protested. 

June held up her hand to stop her daughter.  “It really doesn’t matter if this is real or just something you cooked up to get spanked.  Perhaps you are so curious about spanking that you invented this, or perhaps you guessed that what you did would earn you a spanking and so you wanted to know in advance what to expect.  Either way, my path is clear.  You get spanked!”

At the pronouncement of her sentence, Amanda sprouted a new batch of tears.  Deep in her belly, she felt her very first pre-spanking butterflies.

“That spanking will either convince you that smoking and using stolen ID’s are a really bad idea, and/or you will learn that there is nothing romantic about being spanked and you will never want another spanking.  Does that make sense?”

Dumbly, Amanda nodded.

Forgetting her tea, June took her daughter firmly by the arm, “Then let’s go to my bedroom.”

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In the bedroom, June sat on the edge of the bed with Amanda facing her.  Then, looking her straight in the eye, she carefully talked her through everything, the cigarettes, the theft from her purse, and the use of the stolen ID card.  It wasn’t really a lecture, just a reiteration of why Amanda had been wrong to do each of those things.

“Do you realize that some parents would give you three separate spankings for this nonsense?”

Tearfully, Amanda nodded.      

“Then you understand why your first spanking will be a doozy...right?”

“Yes Mommy,” Amanda squeaked.

“OK Amanda, take off your pajama bottoms and unbutton your top.”

While Amanda was busy obeying, June walked to her dresser and silently picked up her hairbrush.  She sat down again on the bed, with the hairbrush tucked out of sight behind her.

As she waited, June mulled the issue of Amanda’s panties, and their three possible positions; on, half mast, or off.   As it turned out, there was nothing to decide.  Amanda wasn’t wearing panties under her pajamas!   

It had been years since June had seen this much of her daughter’s body.  She looked at the sight of Amanda’s pristine and blossoming femininity with a mixture of wonder and parental pride.  The sight of her fast-maturing daughter drove home to June just how brief her remaining time with this female child would be.  Soon Amanda would have other loves beyond her parents, and there would be no turning back!

Thoughts also churned in the girl’s head.  Rationally but belatedly, Amanda became deluged with second thoughts about her situation.  Perhaps getting spanked wasn’t such a good idea?    But her panicked attempt to bargain her way out of a spanking was doomed to failure, “Ummm Mom?  Can we talk about this?”

“We just did Amanda.  Is there something else I need to know before we start?”

Amanda shook her head, “What if I promised this would never happen again?”

“Oh you will Amanda,” June insisted.  “In just a couple of minutes, you will fervently promise me all sorts of good behavior.  Once your spanking starts, you will say anything to make it stop.   In fact, you already seem to have started!”

Foiled, Amanda looked down at the carpet, unwilling to look in her mother’s eye.

June reached out and pulled her daughter into a hug.  “It’s perfectly normal to be afraid of a spanking Honey,” she soothed, “I had hoped this would never be necessary, but suddenly it is necessary.  I love you, but right now your mother has an unpleasant job to do.  Understand?”

Unenthusiastically, Amanda mumbled, “Yes Mommy.”

With her arms still gently restraining her daughter, June firmly pulled the girl across her lap.

June sat at a slight angle on the bed, so that Amanda’s torso rested on the bed, but her long legs angled down to the carpet.  She lifted the tail of Amanda’s pajama top, and bunched it between the girl’s shoulder blades.  That left Amanda nude from high on her back, down to the tips of her toes.

June announced, “This will be the longest part of your spanking, but not the hardest.  This part is for the cigarettes; understand?”

Amanda sobbed, but nodded her understanding.

At June’s suggestion, Amanda grabbed a pillow, wrapped her arms around it, and buried her face.  Steeling herself, June raised her hand to deliver the first spanks to her daughter’s waiting bottom.

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And so it happened:  Amanda performed her very first “lap dance” as her mother spanked her perfect nether orbs to a charming pink.

June was no expert spanker.  But having been spanked well into her teens, the procedure for delivering a proper spanking to her daughter was no mystery to her.  She started out with rather mild slaps to the summits of her daughter’s nether cheeks, and then simply repeated, again-and-again, allowing the sting to slowly ratchet up to an irresistible level.     

As the sting began to overwhelm her, Amanda first responded by crossing her ankles, squirming, and flexing her gluteal muscles.  But soon June heard the first sobs.

Still delivering only mild spanks, June gradually began to spank over a wider area.  As the pinkened area increased, so did the sting that Amanda was feeling!  Soon, just as June had predicted, Amanda began to loudly and fervently promise perfect future behavior, if only the spanking would stop!

June’s only response was to up the ante, carefully increasing the force of her spanks. 

Now Amanda became frantic!  It was only natural that the girl would reach back to protect her bottom, but June had anticipated that move.  She paused just long enough to pin Amanda’s hands into the small of her back.

The spanking commenced again, this time with spanks that were noticeably harder.   Now Amanda was frankly bawling and frantically kicking her legs.

Remembering well what a spanking feels like, June felt bad for her daughter, but was totally convinced that this was what Amanda needed, and that it was her job to do it right!  By now though, June’s right palm was stinging almost as bad as Amanda’s bottom.  She gave her palm a bit of a break by shifting to a lower, and more tender, target.

With slower and more measured spanks, June carefully “pinked up” Amanda’s thighs.  She could tell by her daughter’s pained antics that she was feeling this treatment! 

When Amanda’s thighs finally displayed the proper color, June took a break just long enough to massage feeling back into the palm of her hand.  Then, without warning, June unleashed a final flurry of full-strength spanks right to the meatiest part of Amanda’s bottom.  The poor girl screeched, twisted and kicked with all of her flagging strength.  June barely managed to keep her from rolling off her lap.

Then came a much longer pause.

June kept the girl locked in place and waited patiently until her bawling finally decayed down to mere sobs. 

She spoke loudly, but not harshly, “Do you hear me Amanda?”

Still sobbing into her pillow, Amanda nodded.

“OK that was the first part of your spanking.  That was for the cigarettes.  Are you done with smoking?”

Amanda nodded vigorously.  From somewhere inside the pillow June heard, “Yes Mommy.  Never again!”

“OK that’s good,” June said, “But if it ever happens again, I will spank you much harder!”

Another nod showed that the still-sobbing Amanda had received the message.

Now June shuffled Amanda’s position a bit, ending up with one of her legs pinning the girl’s legs down.  And then June reached behind her to retrieve the hairbrush.

She cleared her throat, “And now for the second part of your spanking.  This will be for stealing my ID card and illegally using it.”

Amanda reacted violently.  “No Mommy, you already spanked me!  Please no!”

“Sorry Honey,” June said with real regret, “Thievery is serious business.  Besides, I think you need a good taste of the hairbrush just for future reference.  This will be no worse than I used to get at your age.”

Amanda’s head shot up at the mention of the hairbrush.  “No Mommy!  Please!”

“Here goes,” June warned.  “Keep in mind why you are being punished.”

She raised the hairbrush high, and drove it down onto the underside of Amanda’s already-livid right buttock.  Amanda’s head jerked up.  She shrieked pitifully.

June had planned to deliver Amanda’s “age”, just like her own mother used to do to her.  Seventeen serious strokes!  Ultimately, since this was Amanda’s first spanking, she decided that ten would do the job.  So June deliberately delivered five nasty swats to the underside of each firm buttock as Amanda continued to buck and screech.

Tomorrow morning, those two spots would display the only obvious evidence of Amanda’s punishment.  Thanks to those two marks, Amanda would feel a reminder of her punishment each time she sat for the next few days.   

Her mission accomplished, June helped her daughter through the usual post-spanking ritual; holding her until she was somewhat calm, helping her to her feet, watching her spank-dance/rub, and then holding her tenderly in her lap as Amanda indulged in a last cleansing cry.

After washing Amanda’s face for her, they had a little reconciliation conversation.  Amanda tearfully apologized to her mother, saying she would never do anything like that again, while June told her daughter how sorry she was that it had been necessary to spank her.

With Amanda still wearing only that unbuttoned pajama top, June escorted her to her bedroom.  She tenderly tucked the livid-bottomed girl into bed, laying only a single sheet over her body.  June purposely didn’t offer any soothing cream.  After going to all that trouble to put a sting into her daughter’s bottom, she saw no reason to help it go away quickly. 

After a final kiss and a final squeeze, June turned out the lights and left her daughter alone for the night.  The evening hadn’t gone like June had expected, but she was satisfied that she had done her parental duty, and done it well!

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It was barely dusk, so Amanda’s bedroom wasn’t yet dark.  Still, after sobbing a few last tears, the girl quickly drifted off into an endorphin-induced nap.

Sometime later, still laying on her flat little belly, Amanda gradually drifted back into the conscious world.  By now, her bedroom was dark and the house was totally quiet.  Alone, there was nothing for Amanda to do but think private thoughts and feel private feelings.

By now the throbbing was mostly gone from her bottom, to be replaced by a warm and tingly feeling that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.  Her throat hurt a bit from screeching, and she had a few miscellaneous muscle aches from her struggles.  By morning, her young body would erase those little pains. 

Scrunching her buttcheeks together brought back some of the pain from her spanking.  Step-by-step, she recalled her spanking and everything that had led up to it. 

She took mental inventory of her thoughts.  Her mother had been right!  Spankings really hurt, but the aftermath isn’t really bad.  Somehow, as she had shed those tears whilst across her mother’s lap, Amanda had also shed her tensions.  Even her usual teenage angst seemed to be gone, if only temporarily.  For the moment, life seemed simple and Amanda felt loved and cared for.  

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So what was the outcome?

This much we know:  That evening, with her bottom still warm and with memories of that spanking fresh in her head, Amanda had firmly decided that she was done with cigarettes.  She was also done with stealing things from her mother’s purse, and done with falsely using ID cards.

But was she done with spankings? 

What do you think?


© Guyspencer 2014

6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wondering if there is anyway to get to contact you? I find your stories fun, entertaining and always touching. Please if you don't mind me asking, I would really like to talk to you. -D (sorry about the anonymous, I've just never before posted in a blog, please be assured I'm not hate/hiding. I simply didn't know how to post differently)

3:35 AM, May 21, 2014  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Would LOVE to see a part two of Amanda exploring spanking more for pleasure and discipline !!!

9:43 PM, June 05, 2014  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

A second offense ought yield a lengthy belting.

4:57 PM, July 14, 2014  
Anonymous Ordalie said...

I very much liked this story, we go from one surprise to the next. I think stealing an ID card is much worse than a few coins in your mother's purse. I also immediately thought June was being asked to describe the sensations of intercourse!

3:00 AM, September 21, 2014  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The premise of this story was totally illogical. What kid in his/her right mind is going to voluntarily 'fess up about something they would get spanked for... especially when the "something" turned out to be a self-extinguishing, one time thing? Amanda apparently wanted to see if smoking was something she wanted to try (for whatever the reason). The story would have made more sense if it was a spanking she REALLY wanted to try, and that smoking was her means to that end!

11:20 PM, October 17, 2015  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What kid in their right mind would fess up to such an offense unless it's the spanking she wanted to try instead the offense? A well raised one. When I had one on one quality time with my mom as a teenager, especially when an offense was fresh or renewed in my mind, I couldn't keep my mouth shut if I wanted to. My parents never string armed a confession, and sometimes when they saw I was in a stubborn mood didn't even expect one. They either stated as fact what they knew and addressed the issue, or waited for the guilt to make me want to put things right. Since the story says the girl had a hard time sleeping the previous night I saw this as a result of a good kid with a good conscience, trained by good parents to do what's right and face the consequences of straying from the right path. I confessed at eighteen to having a 19 year old "boy" in the house while my parents weren't home the week prior to my birthday, knowing that having a male in the house with me unattended was a serious no no. We had gotten away with it, nothing had happened alone in the house that wasn't happening in front of my parents, and I knew even if my mom wasn't angry and believed that nothing else had happened that having let him in when I was home alone in HER house was going to earn me some serious consequences. My mom listened, hugged me and let me know that she believed me, then excused herself to make a private phone call. Twenty minutes later my boyfriend was being escorted into my house by his aunt and we had a four way conversation about what had happened two weeks prior, when I was still technically a minor. And then his aunt and my mom started discussing our fates right in front of us as if we weren't even there. Parents and other authorities seem to do that ALOT in my experience.

7:25 AM, November 06, 2016  

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