How many more? And then what's he going to use on my poor bottom ?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Strapped for mischief

 

 

 

"I'm appalled, simply appalled at what you two got up to in that café," said Sally's mother.“It was the height of stupid, juvenile behaviour and you’re both very lucky not to be down at the police station at this very moment. You’re extremely fortunate to be getting off with a thrashing rather than a record. Now brace yourselves and don’t move until I tell you to get up.”

Sally was bending over the sofa on the left and Linda beside her on the right. They gripped the cushions and clenched their teeth. Sally’s mother laid the strap across her daughter’s pale bottom, raised it high above her head and brought it arcing down to land with a loud crack across the width of her cheeks. Sally gasped. A wide blotch immediately began to redden where the lash had bitten into the taut muscle. A short pause and the leather whacked down again. A purple band appeared where the second stripe overlaid the first. Sally uttered a shrill cry.

Her mother moved a little to the right, placed the strap on the centre of Linda’s backside and a moment later a report like a starting pistol announced the arrival of the first stroke. Linda’s right leg kicked in involuntary response. A second later, the next lash arrived. Linda threw her head back and wailed “Ooooww!” Sally’s mother returned to her position beside her daughter and administered another two swats, drawing yelps of pain from the squirming girl. Then it was Linda’s turn again.

Linda was used to corporal punishment. For as long as she could recall, misbehaviour by either her or her sister had resulted in them being put across their mother’s knee and spanked with a hairbrush or slipper. Their father dealt with more serious offences, removing his belt as they bent fearfully over their beds. Then she’d gone to Bexhill and had soon experienced the whole gamut of implements there: ‘Stinger’ the awesome hairbrush, the paddle, the tawse, and – by no means least – a variety of canes. But Sally’s mother’s strap was right up there with the worst of them. The woman was only of medium build, but that belied the ferocity with which she delivered each lash.

Soon, both girls were squealing with pain as their backsides changed from pink to red to mauve to dark blue. Linda wasn’t counting but later Sally said she thought they’d each received thirty strokes.

 

Edited extract from 'A Spanking in Time', Bexhill School Book 1