Wednesday, September 09, 2015

Turning Eighteen

© Guyspencer 2015

Turning Eighteen”

It was just after 1 AM when the car stopped in front of Susan's darkened house. For the first time ever, Susan didn't worry about her parents being upset over her being out so late. Since Susan was 18 now, and officially an adult, she could come and go as she pleased. Unfortunately, being late was the least of her worries.

An observer, had there been one on that dark night, would notice that the couple in the car wasn't happy with each other. Without favoring the man with even a peck on the cheek, Susan exited the car and bustled into the haven of her home without looking back. Had there been more light, our fictitious observer would have seen tears dampening the girl's beautiful cheeks.

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Susan's parents, Edward and Evelyn Sampson, both had great respect for the law. Ed was a lawyer, a man who loved the law and rarely missed a chance to pontificate on it. Before her marriage, Susan's mother had been a trained legal clerk. They were both dedicated parents, perhaps especially dedicated because Susan was an only child, despite considerable effort to conceive again.

Two weeks ago, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, her parents had taken her to a quietly elegant restaurant. Over dinner, her father had enthusiastically explained that “in the eyes of the law,” she was now an adult. Evelyn hadn't been quite so enthusiastic, but agreed that Edward had explained the law correctly.

Edward took his daughter's hand, “We're so proud of you Susan, but now our hold on you is over. We hope you will still live with us and stay in college, but your future is yours to command. Starting now, you make your own rules and live with the results of your actions. We hope that we've given you the moral background to make good decisions for yourself.”

Susan probed gently to discover exactly what that meant, because her parents had always been quite strict and traditional until now. She asked in a humorous voice, “You mean, no more spankings?”

Her father answered, “Oh certainly! On that the law is clear. We have no further right to give you corporal punishment.”

After a thoughtful pause he added in his lawyer's voice, “...except in the vanishingly unlikely event you were to consent to be spanked, and we were to agree to do so.”

She shuddered. Consenting to corporal punishment wasn't likely. Growing up, Susan had taken far too many trips over the parental lap. At first, her parents had shared spanking duties. But at puberty, Susan's mother had become her exclusive spanker. She was very effective at the job!

Susan's parents steered the conversation to safer ground, welcoming their daughter to adulthood.

“Of course,” her mother added, “We are still your parents, and we'll always be there for you. You will always be our little girl. But tonight starts a new relationship, an adult relationship.”

After dinner they returned home. There, they shared a bottle of wine, Susan's first alcoholic drink. Feeling simultaneously giddy and mature, the newly “grown-up” Susan hugged her well-meaning parents and tripped off to bed.


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Where do acquaintances come from? For Susan, Dave seemed to emerge from nowhere. He was the proverbial “friend of a friend of a friend”. Dave was a person she had seen before, perhaps even talked to before, but he had always seemed aloof and unobtainable. Nobody else really knew Dave He wasn't from Susan's school. Yet he was always around, lurking at the edge of her social circle like a wolf lurks at the edge of the light.

She always had the vague impression that he was too old and somehow too sophisticated for her. Given their long, albeit vague, acquaintance, she wasn't surprised to see him at a friend's party two weeks after her birthday. When he appeared at her elbow suddenly showing interest in her, she was surprised and grateful. She felt so sophisticated talking to this handsome, slightly older and apparently more experienced gent!

Apparently deeply interested, he encouraged Susan to talk about herself. He said that she was a sweet person and that her voice sounded like music to him. Before the evening was over, Dave had made a date with Susan for the very next evening. Susan was so thrilled to be noticed by this handsome and gracious man that she never noticed that she had learned virtually nothing about him. Nor did she connect his sudden interest with her new status as a legal adult.


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All day long, Susan waited in delightful anticipation of the coming evening. This was the first time she would be allowed out on a date without the boy first being vetted by her parents. They didn't even get to meet the gent! Susan simply breezed from the house, only announcing that she was out for the evening.

Dave arrived in a sporty car. The few car dates that she had before, the boy had used his parent's car. So this was her first date where the gent actually drove his own car! Dave engaged her in conversation. As before, he made her feel flattered, desirable, grown up, even beautiful! They ate at a nice restaurant. All through supper Dave never took his eyes off of her. Susan glowed and preened under the attentions of this sophisticated, handsome man.

The plan had been a movie, but somehow that changed. Dave drove her around town. From inside Dave's car, everything looked different, better, brighter. He held her hand. Later, Dave looked at his watch and exclaimed that they had missed the start of the movie. “Let's do that another night,” he suggested, “I want to show you something.”

The “something” turned out to be Dave's apartment.

This was the first time that Susan had dated anyone who was sophisticated and self-sufficient enough to have his own place. She was awed, but also imagined that some of Dave's sophistication rubbed off on her. It made her feel good, grown up. After a tour, they settled down to music. He quickly zeroed in on music that would relax Susan and put her off her guard.

As they listened and conversed, his hands roamed cautiously. When Susan somehow felt obligated to confess her virginal status, Dave carefully kept the look of triumph off of his face. If she hadn't had his undivided attention before, she certainly did now!


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We might consider Dave a predator, but he styled himself as a “sportsman”. To him, sex was a game and he was out to “score”. For Dave, Susan would be virgin number six. But Dave played the game by a set of self-imposed rules. Rules that, in his mind, made the hunt fair and sportsmanlike.

First, his quarry must be legal. He had heard of Susan's eighteenth birthday, and had verified it in his conversation with her, so Susan qualified.

Second, Dave would “attack” with only the force of his personality and with natural human attraction. He used no drugs, not even alcohol. Never would he resort to force.

Third, he would never use the word “love” in its declarative sense. Nor would he dangle the possibility of a future life together.

Although he welcomed return engagements, Dave wasn't one for long term relationships. For him, the “game” was everything.


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We needn't dwell on the specifics, but Susan was helpless against the force of Dave's personality and his superior experience in life and sexual matters. Although they had meant well, her parents had set her up for failure by first shielding her from life's experiences, and then by abruptly “setting her free” the moment she had turned eighteen.

Like any normal girl, Susan had long romanticized and dreamed of her first sexual encounter. Naturally, it would be with a man who adored her and cared for her. He would be gentle and thoughtful as they simultaneously gifted their virginity to each other. Their shared passion would soar and mark the genesis of a lifelong relationship.

The scene in Dave's bed hadn't been like that!

Expertly and persistently, he had relieved Susan of her clothing and then lured the naked girl into his bed. There, he had displayed a foil-wrapped condom along with soothing words that “everything would be safe”. She was fortunate that her body had produced natural lubrication, because Dave didn't even bother with KY oil.

For all of his persuasive personality, Dave wasn't even a good lover. Susan felt a pain, endured a few seconds of grunting and rutting, and then felt a hot gush inside her. With sudden, albeit late, intuition she checked the bedside table and saw the still-intact foil packet. Then she knew she had been had.

On seeing her big eyes, Dave soothed, “Don't worry, everyone knows that you can't get pregnant your first time. Besides, I'm perfectly clean so no worries there.”

Even the naive Susan knew that Dave was spouting bullshit. She stiffened so suddenly that Dave knew there would be no more sex that night. Next time he would remember to hide that unused packet!

So Dave drove Susan home. It was after midnight, but sooner than he would have liked. Always persistent, he chatted as if nothing had happened. Several times he dangled his only remaining bait, “We could have loads of fun together.”

But by now, Susan understood the subtext of Dave's message, and it didn't involve love, “We can have loads of fun together, as long as you keep putting out.”



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So Susan entered her dark home to find that her parents had long ago retired to bed. Therefore there was nobody to dry her tears, nobody to hear her tale of woe and nobody to comfort her. In hopes of washing away the stain on her soul, Susan took a long shower. Then she cried herself to sleep.

She had classes the next morning, but Susan made no move to get up. As sleep's protective grogginess left her, the events of last night came rushing back.

Evelyn knocked on her bedroom door, “Honey, aren't you going to class?”

“I'm not feeling well mother, I'll try to make my afternoon classes.”

Temporarily satisfied, Evelyn left her alone.

Susan laid there until she heard her father's car leave. With privacy assured, she got up to share her problem with her mother.

To her credit, Susan told the whole story to her increasingly shocked mother, omitting none of the sordid details, and taking her share of the blame.

“He didn't slip you drugs? Are you sure?”

“Yes mom, I'm sure about that. I wish it were otherwise, but I remember every detail of the evening. Also, I'm clear-headed this morning.”

“How about alcohol?”

“No, not even that. He did nothing illegal. You know that old saying 'Tricked her out of her knickers?' Well that's what happened to me. That guy simply talked me out of my virginity. And when it happened, I didn't even check to ensure he was actually wearing a condom. Mom! I feel stupid!”


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Whatever you think about Evelyn's parenting skills, she was a realistic and decisive woman. Very quickly, she decided that this was no time for recriminations or even for discussion. It was time for a quick trip to the pharmacy!
So Evelyn bundled her daughter into the car and headed for a drug store. There they purchased a “morning after” pill for Susan. At a drinking fountain, Susan swallowed the pill, alleviating her most pressing concern.

On the trip home, Evelyn finally felt able to “discuss” this with her daughter, “Susan, you had unprotected sex with a man you don't even know. What were you thinking?”

Susan answered morosely and honestly, “I'm sorry mom. I apparently didn't think. You certainly taught me better than that.”

“That I did,” Evelyn asserted, “If this had happened just a few weeks ago, do you know what would have happened to you young lady?”

Susan knew the answer to that question, she would have been spanked!

There was a long silence in the car.

Finally Susan spoke up, a tremor in her voice, “Er mom...”

“Yes honey?”

“Remember our conversation the night before my birthday, when dad said something about me consenting to a spanking?”

Like most wives, Evelyn didn't necessarily hang on every word her husband uttered, so it took her a few seconds to recall that particular conversation. Then she remembered. Wisely, she thought before speaking, “Is this going where I think it's going Susan? If so, be careful what you wish for.”

Susan spoke grimly, but with determination, “Yes, mom. I'm saying that I should be spanked.”

Evelyn considered carefully before speaking, “Then tell me exactly how hard I should spank you.”

Susan gave the easy answer, “As hard as you would have spanked me before my birthday.”

“No,” Evelyn replied, “You're an adult now, so you don't get off that easy. On a scale of one to five, how hard should I spank you?”

Susan sobbed, but finally mumbled an answer.

“Louder,” Evelyn insisted, “Make me believe you mean it!”

This time Susan spoke in a clear voice, “I deserve a hard spanking ma-am, a five.”

“Think about that Susan,” Evelyn replied in an even voice, “We will discuss it again shortly.”


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Five minutes later, Evelyn pulled her car into the garage, and turned to her daughter, “OK, you've had time to think. Do you still want that spanking?”

Tears ran down Susan cheeks, “Yes ma-am.”

“Once I start, you will definitely want me to stop, so along with your consent to be spanked, you must also relinquish your right to change your mind. This is your last chance to back out!”
“I understand mother. I'm asking you for a spanking, and I give up my right to change my mind.”

Satisfied that her daughter was serious, Evelyn responded, “OK young lady, let's go do it!”


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They entered through the side door of the house, into the kitchen. Evelyn pointed into the dining room, “Bring that chair into my bedroom.”

In the bedroom, Evelyn mutely pointed to an open spot. Obediently, Susan placed the chair there. Never before had Evelyn used a dining room chair for disciplinary reasons, but Susan instinctively knew it's purpose.

Evelyn pointed Susan into her en-suite bathroom, “We need time to think, so take a shower. I'll put out a towel for you.”

It felt funny to use her parent's shower. Susan had her own bathroom, but now wasn't the time to argue.

Susan didn't rush her shower. When she emerged, her clothes were gone, replaced by a bath towel and a terry robe. So Susan did the obvious, she dried herself and then donned the robe before going off to face her mother.


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She found her mother sitting on that chair, an appraising look in her eye. Having made the obvious assumption that she about to be spanked, Susan gulped and involuntarily clenched her buttocks. But Evelyn wasn't quite ready.

“OK Honey, tell me why I should spank you”.

Susan was unprepared for such an obvious question, so she gave the wrong answer, “Errr, for having sex with that creep?”

“No honey, Evelyn explained, that's not it at all. As your mother I wish you had waited, and I wish that your first experience had been more romantic, but it's perfectly normal for you to try sex. The truth is, I didn't wait until I was eighteen.”

That was a bit more information that Susan wished to hear about her mother! But still, what she was saying made sense. Susan's problem went beyond the simple act of intercourse.

“Susan, try again to explain why I should spank you. This is important.”

“Yes Ma-am, It's not so much that I HAD sex, it's the fact that I had it with a relative stranger and I allowed it to happen without protection. What I did was dangerous on several levels. He could have hurt me and nobody would even have known who I was out with, I could get a disease from him, and even with the pill, I could get pregnant.”

“Yep,” Evelyn agreed, “That about covers it. So what have you learned?”

“In general, I've learned to be more careful who I date and to be less trusting. Specifically, I'll have no more sex early in a relationship, and absolutely no unprotected sex until I'm at least in a long-term relationship. Does that make sense mommy?”

“Yes,” Evelyn agreed, “That sums it up nicely.”

Then, suddenly all business, Evelyn pointed to a corner. “Now take thirty minutes of corner time to think that over. Contemplate why you are there, and the lesson I'm about to reinforce. After that, plan on a roasted bottom.”

In a kinder voice she added, “It's just us girls here, so you can drop that robe now or after your corner time, your choice.

Susan tried for a bit of control, “Ma-am, will you please spank me right now?“

“Nope,” Evelyn declared decisively, “and this is a terrible time to make me repeat myself. Do your thinking, and then I intend to scorch your bottom.”

It was warm in the bedroom, so Susan doffed her robe before placing herself in the designated corner. A few minutes later, Evelyn heard sobs emanating from the corner, demonstrating that Susan was indeed thinking about why she was about to be punished.

Resisting the urge to comfort her daughter, Evelyn could only sit and watch. It wasn't often these days that she saw so much of her daughter's body. Susan had lost most of her teenage coltishness, developing female curves and adding firm flesh to her hips, thighs and buttocks in the process. With particular interest she inspected the pristine bottom she was about to chastise.

Time dragged for both of the women, but finally Susan had served her thirty minutes. Quietly Evelyn stood from the hard chair, massaged feeling into her own buttocks, and then crept over to her dresser. There, she picked up an old hairbrush. Finally she returned to the armless chair and sat, hiding the hairbrush behind her back.

“OK Susan, it's time.”

Susan jumped at the unexpected words. Cheeks damp, quivering with emotion, she turned to her mother. Evelyn simply patted her right thigh, a silent command.

As if in a trance, Susan walked to her mother, received a last-second hug, and then the naked girl/lady allowed herself to be guided across her mother's lap.

After adjusting Susan's position, Evelyn found herself with a new and much closer view of her daughter's comely bottom. With her left hand firmly restraining Susan's torso, Evelyn raised her right hand high, and then snapped it down sharply to Susan's right buttcheek. Susan bucked and yipped. Evelyn saw a handprint blossom on that buttock, and then landed a similar spank to the left cheek. As she paused to evaluate the results, she had a rogue thought. Grinning wryly to herself, she thought, “I guess that's the sound of one hand clapping.”

Then Evelyn grimly bent to her task, peppering her daughter's bottom with dozens of stinging spanks as she watched it ripple and clench and color as it absorbed this loving dose of parental correction.

At first Susan took her punishment stiffly and quietly, only making the occasional grunt when her mother hit a particularly tender spot. Evelyn noted this and paused momentarily to offer a bit of motherly wisdom, “Like I said before Susan, it's just us girls here. This is supposed to hurt, so don't be ashamed to cry. Believe me, you'll feel better for it.”

Perhaps that was the encouragement Susan needed, or perhaps she was already at the end of her emotional rope, but the moment her mother resumed spanking, Susan began to sob loudly. And then her sobs turned to frank cries, and her cries morphed into shrieks. By now her legs were mobile and her compact body constantly and ineffectively tried to twist her bottom away from her mother's punishing hand. But from long experience, Evelyn knew that her daughter wasn't resisting but was only reacting to the growing blaze in her bottom. In fact, Susan's constant motion served to nicely spread her spanks, which soon led to a nice all-over tan on her twin orbs.

Temporarily satisfied with the results so far, Evelyn lowered her target area to Susan's sit spots, which compelled Susan to wail and beg piteously for respite as her mother made their color match that of her buttocks.

When Evelyn finally targeted the backs of Susan's upper legs, the girl became frantic and verbal, shrieking, “No mommeee, please noooo.” Naturally, Evelyn ignored her daughter's antics, as she “pinked up” this final target area.

Then, Evelyn spent just a few seconds spanking Susan's buttocks to a slightly brighter red before reaching behind her for the stashed hairbrush, which she applied immediately and without warning. Poor Susan screamed and bucked. But by now most of the fight had been spanked out of her, so Evelyn easily controlled her daughter for the two minutes it took her to do the necessary work with that old wooden weapon.

You may think it cruel that Evelyn applied that hairbrush without warning, but she knew from long experience that her daughter would rather not know such things in advance. Besides, they had agreed that Susan would receive a “hard” spanking. In the Sampson household, a “hard” spanking had always implied something more than a simple hand spanking.

So it was done. Evelyn had used the hairbrush to first paint Susan's bottom to a new, deeper red. Then she completed her duty by judiciously and deliberately applying two vicious spanks to the summit of each buttock and to each sit spot. Those last blows would leave a visible and moderately painful reminder of Susan's punishment for the next few days.

Gently, Evelyn held her stricken daughter in place as she cooed soothing and forgiving words into her ear. Finally, when her bawling abated, she allowed the girl up. Almost immediately Susan crawled into her mother's lap, adjusted her position to favor her livid bottom, and indulged herself in a long cleansing cry into her mother's shoulder. Knowing that this emotional release was just as important as the spanking itself, Evelyn embraced her still-naked daughter and simply let it happen.

Finally she quieted. Evelyn continued to hold her, rocking slightly as if Susan were still a child.

Finally Evelyn asked, “Are you mad at me?”

Susan's answer was emphatic, “Oh no. I got exactly what I asked you for. Why would I be mad?”

Savoring this rare moment of intimacy with her growing daughter, Evelyn simply awaited Susan's next move.

Finally Susan spoke, “Mother?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don't think I'm quite ready to be fully grown up yet. Could I please talk with you and dad to negotiate some dating restrictions? We could adjust them later as I gain experience.”

Now it was Evelyn's turn to pause thoughtfully. “Yes that's possible, but restrictions are meaningless without consequences should you violate them. We would require spanking authority to give us some logical enforcement power.”

“Yes,” Evelyn said thoughtfully, “That sounds fair”.

© Guyspencer 2015



1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow, definetly one of your best stories!
Keep up the good work

1:24 PM, September 14, 2015  

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