From Spankingwomen - Into My Twenties
Sometimes a naughty girl is just begging to be spanked. Bad attitude. Smart mouth. All-around bratty behavior. Just because she is well past the age when she should be acting like an adult, doesn't mean that Mom won't occasionally have to blister that butt. Mom was brought up in a spanking household, as was her mother before her. In the family, a bad girl will be spanked until the day they move out. End of story.
And so, yes, the world can change dramatically for a daughter still living at home when she finds herself face-to-face with the carpet in her bedroom. It's a wake-up call, a reality check. It is a reminder as to who is in charge. You are not too old to be spanked, not in this house, young lady.
She wanted to take her spanking in silence, not give her mother the satisfaction of a reaction, but all dreams of quiet dignity evaporate rather quickly. She surprises even herself with how loud and hard she sobs. It just hurts so damn much! Her bottom and thighs livid and sore and on fire with every well-placed smack. Mom doesn't mess around. This spanking is a message and Mom wants that message received loud and clear.
(When I need it, I get it - thank God!)
Nicole looked back at her blazing bottom in astonishment. Mom had really done a number on her. Her cheeks were big, agonizing ovals of crimson. Had she ever been spanked like this before? Had Mom learned something new in the years since the last time she had gone over her knee? It seemed without question to have been the most thorough spanking she had ever been given and it came at age twenty-two.
What a dubious honor. Humiliating.
Nicole was sure that her older sister Kayla and all of Kayla’s other maids of honor really enjoyed overhearing her get her butt beat. She had not cried - so there was some consolation - but her ass was so raw that she had desperately begged for her mother to stop by the end. Another twenty seconds or so and the tears would have started flowing. It was altogether an embarrassing afternoon and it would be difficult to forget. But what did she expect? She had been warned several times to stop acting like such a brat. She had been ruining her sister’s bachelorette weekend.
Dragged from the dining room and into the guest bedroom, Nicole was over her mother’s lap before she even knew what was happening. It all went by so fast. It had been surreal. And then she was bare - just like old times, she now thought grimly - and her mother already had her trusty hairbrush in hand somehow.
Nicole gingerly touched her freshly spanked buttocks, savoring the heat and the sting. Her butt was so warm and it seemed to be spreading too, deep into her crack and traveling up front as well. She was still angry and mortified, but she was horny as hell too. Maybe having her boyfriend spank her so often had led her down this path or maybe she had been on it all along. Either way, her pussy was very wet and hungry for touch.
Nicole stood in the guest room, shorts and panties still at her ankles, ass still very red and very sore, not sure what to do. How could she show her face for the rest of the weekend? Could she sneak off an masturbate? There was a certain thrill in her predicament but at the same time, she was frozen with indecision.
Angel knew better than to argue or resist. When her Mama decided it was time for her to get her butt beat, then it was time for her to get her butt beat. End of story. Angel lived at home and so she had to play by her Mama's rules.
Mama was old school, barely spoke any English and never took any shit from anyone. She was firm but fair. She was also a hardworking single mother who strongly believed in spankings. All of her kids were raised with them, but Angel was the only one still living at home. Angel being 24-years-old did not make even the slightest difference. Break the rules and you get your butt spanked.
Angel would have to get into position over her Mama's lap, butt completely bared and pointing upward, as if eagerly anticipating the smacks. She would have to keep her head down, as well as her hands and feet on the floor too. Reaching back or lifting her legs resulted in much, much longer spankings. Using only her hand, Mama spanked really, really hard. The spanks would echo all throughout the house. Before the spankings ended, Angel's ass would be dark red, swollen and a little bruised. She always cried and then would have trouble sitting comfortably for days afterward. But even Angel had to admit that they made a big difference. Her behavior and attitude would always improve dramatically following a trip over Mama's knee.
"It's time for a trip to the basement, young lady."
And that was that. Nothing else needed to be said. The paddle was coming out of the drawer and then there was going to be a shameful trek down to the basement after supper. And then it was just a matter of going over the knee, a dress being raised and panties being lowered.
And then a very sorry young lady would return the paddle to the drawer on her way to an early bedtime.
"No, no, no, no, mommy, please!"
The pleas get more and more childish as the desperation grows. The confident young woman of only moments ago has vanished, replaced by a naughty girl in the process of getting her bare bottom warmed. Her mother's mind is made up - her house, her rules - and she's decided a good spanking is exactly what her rude, spoiled and terminally lazy daughter needs most.
(needing it doesn't (always) keep me from begging!)
Getting a spanking from your mother at 30-years-old seems like a joke.
It seems like a joke right up until the moment you're over her knees - just like when you were a teenager - bare-assed and begging for forgiveness. When her hairbrush lands on your sore, exposed skin again and again, your dignity disappears. You're going to be bruised from the top of your crack all the way to your knees. Nothing much has changed since your last spanking in that regard - Mom still does not mess around. It's a very humbling experience.
Defiant until the end and clearly very embarrassed to still need spankings at her age. She's going to have to be careful - her attitude might earn her an encore performance. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she's gotten her butt whupped twice in one night.
Dinner was late because someone couldn't get off of her phone. Let's just say she was given a bare-bottomed reminder of what time the meal should be ready.
Her mouth had a way of prolonging the punishment.
A simple spanking just never seemed to be enough. Even standing in the corner, with her jeans and panties already around her knees and her arms folded behind her back, she would inevitably say something to reignite her momma’s rage. Her sore, pinkish bottom would once again become the target and her momma would whale away with wild, burning smacks until she tired herself out. Both of them would feel the aftereffects for days, sore all over, throats raw from the screaming and the crying.
She was a hardheaded girl though and these spankings, as shameful as they were, continued long past a point when any of her friends or siblings were still subject to corporal punishment. All through college and even up to her mid-twenties, until she finally moved away from her momma’s house for good. She never seemed particularly bitter about it though and later in life, she even remarked on occasion that she missed a firm hand in her life and appreciated a good butt whoopin’.
Suddenly and without warning, Shelia's arm swept out, taking her daughter completely by surprise. In one fluid motion, she sat back into the chair and bent the girl face-down across her knees. Sheila pushed up her daughter's skirt and rolled down her yellow panties, exposing the bare flesh, where a bikini-bottom tan line left a wide and rather white v-shaped target.
It had been some time since Janie had been in this position, but she did not put up much of a fight. Her tantrum had seemingly drained all of the energy right out of her. It was as if somewhere in the back of her mind she had known that this was where it had all been heading. Janie put her palms on the floor as blood rushed to her head and bent her legs at the knees, just as she had done years before as a naughty child. But at twenty years of age, she was no longer a school girl and the humiliation of this punishment already burned hot behind her eyes, causing bitter tears to spill before the spanking even began.
Sheila, trembling with rage, slapped and slapped, over and over and over, as hard as she could. The room rang out with the sound of skin smacking against skin with Janie's pitiful whimpering audible underneath. Sheila spanked until her palm was numb and she was out of breath, dizzy and somewhat exhilarated. She rolled Janie off of her lap and onto the floor. "Let that be a lesson to you," she exclaimed. "You're never too old for that, not as far as I'm concerned! I was older than you are now the last time my father took me across his knee and I learned to shape up real fast!"
Janie, sobbing now, rubbed her smarting bum, too stunned to reply. Even if she had somehow found the words, it was unlikely that her voice would have been steady enough to use them. She could do little else besides look up at her mother, who was now standing and smoothing out her skirt, breathing heavy, her eyes wide and sparkling.
"Don't test me, darling," Sheila said as she left the room, "or next time it'll be the hairbrush."
She was spanked until her butt looked like a ripe tomato. Her dignity was long gone and she wept bitterly, kicking her legs and squirming until she was allowed to stand. With her panties still pulled down below her stinging bottom, she was led into the corner of the room. She was furious, but in the end, found that most of the anger left inside of her was aimed at herself. She had been a fool and paid the price for it.
When left her alone to think about her behavior, she reached back and rubbed her backside, gasping at the heat. She buried her face deeper into that corner and fresh tears came. Instinctively and, she hated to admit it to herself, from past experiences, she knew that she would be sleeping on her stomach for the next few nights.
Out all night partying after the concert, she didn't get home until the sun was already up. She smelled of cigarettes, whisky and God knows what else. But she soon found out the price she was going to have to pay if she wanted to keep on living at home...
Mom hadn't forgotten how to wield that wicked brush. If anything she seemed to have gotten better at it. It was a spanking to remember, a ragged voice begging for it to end, waking up the whole damn neighborhood.
A red-bottomed, blubbering mess, complete with tears and snot dripping from her face, left in total disgrace after being given a long overdue and damn good spanking.
Momma came to Franny's bedroom right before lights out and she brought along the strap. There was some business to attend to and Momma knew it just couldn't wait until morning.
Franny's blue eyes grew large when she saw that evil piece of leather in her mother's hand. Her lip trembled.
"P-P-Please don't whoop me, Momma," Franny pleaded, her voice trembling. "I'm too old to be s-spanked."
"Young lady, you are lucky you're just getting one spanking and we're doing it up here in the privacy of your bedroom. Now stand up and bend over the desk with your shorts down or I will call your father up here to assist me."
Franny did as she was told, sliding her pajama shorts down just far enough to expose her little white bum. Momma always spanked on the bare. It had been a long time since her last whoopin - Franny had been a teenager then - but she knew the drill. She knew it would hurt and she knew she would cry. She also knew that her backside would be a searing red by the time Momma finished up. It seemed an undignified punishment - Franny was a woman grown after all - but what choice did she have? While living under her mother's roof, she had to obey her mother's rules... and accept her mother's justice.
While she blubbers away, bottom burning and still quite bare with her skirt flipped, the embarrassing lecture continues. She had failed quite miserably at taking her punishment quietly, so by this point everyone in the house is aware of the situation: Christine got a spanking. No one could argue that it wasn't deserved, but that didn't make it any less humiliating for someone of her age to still require that kind of discipline.
After what feels like an eternity, Christine is permitted to pull her tights back up and shamefully scamper off to bedroom where she can feel sorry for herself in privacy. Once there, she can cry herself to sleep.
Donna was starting to think that living at home to save money after college was maybe not all that it was cracked up to be. She was getting spanked almost as much as she did back in high school!
Forced to sit through the rest of the dinner with her pants still off and her red butt absolutely roasted.
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