Carrie Gets a Spanking

Part One

Image from girlsinpyjamas.com

It was nine o'clock on a Saturday morning. Carrie Scanlon crept down the stairs, barefoot and still in her pajamas. She smelled bacon frying in the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled. Then she thought of the punishment she'd been promised today, and she lost her appetite.

It was so unfair! Who still had an eleven o'clock weekend curfew at age 16? The party last night had been so much fun; 11:00 p.m. had come and gone before she even noticed. By the time she'd finally gotten home, it was 12:15, and her mom had been sitting in the family room, not at all pleased with her daughter. With a promise to "take care of things" in the morning, she'd sent Carrie to stew in her room.

"You want some eggs, Princess?" her father asked.

"Sure, Dad, thanks," Carrie replied, taking a seat at the table. It crossed her mind that this would probably be the last time she would sit comfortably for awhile.

He spooned out some scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate for his daughter, and poured her some orange juice. "I understand you've got a not-so-fun day to look forward to today," he said kindly. It was amazing to Carrie how Mom and Dad switched roles so naturally in their good cop - bad cop routine.

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, trying to ignore the smirk on her little brother's face.

"Well, I hope you know how concerned we get when you don't come home on time," he replied seriously. "We love you a lot, and we don't want anything to happen to you."

Just a hint of tears appeared in Carrie's eyes as she realized that her carelessness had worried him. "I'm sorry, Dad," she said quietly.

"It'll be okay, Sweetheart. Just take your punishment like a big girl, and it'll be over before you know it."

Easy for him to say.

Mom came into the kitchen, and Dad served her as well. Then he disappeared behind his paper. Carrie's brother Bobby plugged his Disc man into his ears, and the four of them ate in near-silence. After they finished, Carrie got up and cleared the table, hoping to win points for cooperation and maturity. When all the dishes were cleared and in the dishwasher, her mother said,

"Alright, young lady. Go change into your punishment outfit, and be quick about it!"

"Oh come on, Mom, that's not fair!" her daughter whined. While she knew she'd messed up big time by ignoring curfew last night, it was an affront to her 16-year-old dignity to be punished in such a juvenile way. It was just nine thirty, and the command to change into her punishment outfit meant that she'd be wearing nothing else all day!

"Would you rather wear it all weekend?" her mother inquired.

"No, no, I'm sorry!" Carrie said quickly as she got to her feet. "I'm going."

Her father smiled behind his newspaper, while her brother smirked openly. Ever since her 16th birthday, Carrie had gotten a little full of herself, and Bobby was going to enjoy seeing her taken down a peg. Plus, the fact that she was being punished today meant that she had to do all his chores. For a 13-year-old boy, that was about as good as it got!

Carrie sniffed a bit as she headed for her room. It was so unfair! She was sure she was the only one of her friends who still got spanked. They certainly didn't have to wear a humiliating "uniform" all day either! She grumbled as she took the hated garment out of the drawer.

It consisted of a white sleeveless vest that just barely covered her belly button, and a pair of large, green "regulation-type" panties. She took off her pajamas and underwear and stood naked, looking at punishment clothing with distaste. Knowing that delaying would only add to her sentence, she sighed and resigned herself to her fate. She blushed as she put on the G string that she knew would be her only source of modesty once her panties were taken down. She then put on the vest and panties and looked in the mirror, blushing more deeply. She would have taken a hundred hard spankings to avoid being seen like this! The vest was at least a size too small and her growing chest strained against the fabric. The panties looked like something out of an old fashioned English boarding school, and she hated them with a passion. Even though it was just her immediate family who would see her dressed this way, her embarrassment was profound.

She stepped barefoot out of her room and took the long walk of shame downstairs. When she entered the family room, she was dismayed to see Bobby sitting in front of the TV. Mom and Dad were not yet in the room, but she knew where she was expected to go. Blushing furiously, she tiptoed past her grinning little brother toward the Punishment Corner, where the family spanking brush hung from a hook on the wall.

"Nice outfit, Sis," Bobby commented as she walked past. "Going out somewhere?"

"Why don't you just SHUT UP!" she hissed.

"CARRIE ANNE SCANLON!" she heard her mother exclaim as she walked into the room. "It's YOUR behavior that got you where you are. Your brother's just making the best of YOUR bad situation." She heard Bobby giggle. "I seem to recall you were none too kind the last time HE was punished. You were going to have 15 minutes in the corner, but thanks to that outburst, you can have thirty!"

Carrie's ears burned. She was right; of course, she had been kind of mean to him when he'd been on display wearing nothing but a size-too-small pair of white briefs. But while she had to admit that turnabout was fair play, she didn't have to like it! She put her nose and toes in the Punishment Corner and her hands on her head. She heard her mom set the kitchen timer for thirty minutes, and settled in for the singular torment that was corner time.

Carrie considered it cruel and unusual punishment to have to stand in this juvenile position, staring at the brush that would soon paint her backside a bright shade of red. Even worse, she knew that while Bobby was pretending to be engrossed in a video game, his eyes were no doubt glued to her panty-covered rear. Feeling her blush deepen, she settled in for a long, boring stint in the corner.

All too soon, she heard both her parents come into the family room, and heard the spanking chair being pulled into position. Her stomach flipped over as she heard her mother say, "Okay, Carrie, let's get this spanking started."

She took down the spanking brush, gulped and turned to meet her fate.

Part Two

Carrie looked around the family room, butterflies in her stomach. Dad sat in his easy chair, Bobby was sprawled on the sofa, and Mom stood next to the armless chair in the middle of the room. Looking at everyone else fully dressed, Carrie felt horribly exposed, the center of unwelcome attention, in just her vest and panties. Mom beckoned her with her finger.

Groaning, Carrie walked over and stood next to her mother for the lecture, the next part of this carefully crafted discipline ritual. She dropped her hands to her sides.

"Did anyone tell you to move your hands?" She was caught off-guard by the fact that it was her father, not her mother, who spoke to her so sharply.

"N-No Sir," she answered meekly.

"Then put them back where they belong."

She complied, tears welling up in her eyes. Doing so made her breasts jut out sharply, making her feel even more exposed.

"So, young lady," her mother began. "Apparently you're under the illusion that your curfew is more a suggestion than a requirement. I assure you, you couldn't be more mistaken. When your father and I say "eleven o'clock," we mean eleven, not eleven-thirty, and certainly not after midnight! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"No, Ma'am," the embarrassed girl replied quietly. "Just that I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

"No, it won't, of that I'm sure," her dad put in. You won't be going out at all the next two weekends. After that, your curfew is pushed back to nine o'clock. If you can keep to that for two months without exception, we'll consider going back to eleven."

Carrie was devastated. He may as well have said, "You have no social life for the foreseeable future," considering the strictures under which she was being placed. Two whole months! How would she explain to her friends that she had to be home by nine on a Saturday night?! But she knew better than to argue; it would only make things worse.

"Alright, young lady," Mom said as she sat in the spanking chair. "Hand me that brush, and get over my knee."

She blushed deeply, shamed beyond all imagining. Here she was, a sixteen-year-old young woman, dressed in a too-small vest and horrible panties, going over her mommy's lap for a spanking like a little girl in front of her father and brother. It was so unfair! She was grateful for one small mercy, however - at least all the curtains were drawn. While the sounds of her spanking might well carry outside, at least no one outside the family would see her in this humiliating position. She looked up and saw the delighted grin Bobby wore: this was payback time for a month ago when he'd been in her place.

Her mom took a moment to position her daughter properly so as to have maximum access to her bottom. Aware that the girl would be unable to keep from reaching back to protect herself once things got going, she took Carrie's right hand and held it in place behind her back. She put the brush on the coffee table for the moment, then raised her right hand high.

SWAT!!

"OH!"

SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!

"OW! ... AH!!"

Mom wasn't holding back at all! Even though she was using just her hand over panties, it still stung abominably right from the start. She brought her hand down hard all over her daughter's pantied bottom and her bare upper thighs, determined to make a lasting impression.

SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!

"OWWW ... MOM, OWWWWWWWW!!" Carrie cried, her hopes of maintaining her dignity dashed by her mother's hard hand. She began to kick her feet helplessly in the air and clench her hands into fists. Suddenly, the swats stopped for a moment, and she felt her mother take hold of her panties. This was the worst part of the punishment, the thing she would have done anything to avoid. But there was nothing she could do; in one clean, sweeping motion, her mother brought the green panties all the way down to her knees, and her plump round bottom virtually exploded into view!

No words could quite describe the exquisite humiliation of that moment. She still had some "baby fat", and her bubble butt was something she would have gladly kept out of view. Unfortunately, that option was not open to her at the moment; both her brother and her father were getting an eyeful of those rapidly-pinkening twin mounds!

"Oh, Mom, PLEASE!!" she cried, kicking in humiliated frustration.

"Oh, Mom, NOTHING," her mother replied. "I intend to finish what I started." With that, she picked up the brush, and brought it down with devastating accuracy on the center of her sore left bottom cheek.

"AHH - OWWWWWWWW!!"

Her eyes bulged at the new intensity of the pain in her backside. The brush kept falling, and she flailed around in a hopeless attempt to avoid its nasty sting. Mom employed an almost diabolical system when wielding the hairbrush: three swats on the left, three on the right, three on the right sit spot, three on the left sit spot. Over and over and over in this fashion, until her daughter dissolved into incoherent wails of distress.

She was now a uniform hot pink color from the top of her bottom down to the tops of her thighs. She kicked, screamed, and pounded her fists in the air in a childish display of anguish. Before any bruises could surface, her mother began to slow her pace. As dreadfully sore as the girl was, even a light tap from the brush now elicited yelps and cries.

Mom kept at it for awhile, no longer swinging hard but concentrating brisk, sharp snaps of the brush all along Carrie's ultra-sensitive sit-spot. She was determined to ensure that her daughter took the family rules seriously. And she hoped that every time the girl sat down for the next few days, she'd be painfully reminded of the consequences of ignoring them. Then, with three HARD swats to each of Carrie's four "spanking zones", her mother brought the spanking to a spectacular finish.

While the girl cried over her mother's lap, Bobby looked on, no longer grinning, but in awe. He couldn't believe the hard spanking his sister had just taken, and he was more than a little proud of her. Her dad, for his part, was impressed with his wife's skill as a disciplinarian. After a few minutes, Carrie's crying had subsided; her mom gently pulled her up to sit (painfully) on her lap and hugged her.

"No more curfew violations, right, Honey?" she said, gently petting Carrie's head.

"No, Mom, I SWEAR!"

Her dad chuckled quietly at that, wondering how long the pledge would last. Mom said, "Do you need to use the bathroom before your corner time?"

Carrie blushed and nodded, and her mother helped her to her feet. They watched Carrie walk slowly and stiffly in her disheveled vest and G string toward the bathroom. Her dad picked up the panties that had gone flying during the hairbrush portion of the spanking and hung them on the hook where Carrie would find them.

The Scanlons were firm believers in the efficacy of long post-spanking corner times to drive home the lesson. It was ten-thirty when their daughter emerged from the bathroom; they directed her back to the corner where she would remain until lunchtime. Standing there sniffling with her hands on her head and her bright red bottom on display, she was the very picture of penitence.

Bobby surprised everyone that day. Instead of sitting and gawking at his sister while she suffered in the corner, he went to work, doing the laundry, the yard work, and even some vacuuming. Carrie was released from the corner at noon, happy to be given even the hated green panties to cover her bottom. She fully expected to have to spend hours after lunch doing housework. When she discovered that there was little left for her to do than clean her own room, she was so happy that she embarrassed Bobby with a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead. Then she joined the family for lunch, sitting gingerly on the biggest pillow she could find.

She spent the rest of the day in her punishment outfit with the family as required, but she had the unusual luxury of lying down on the couch and taking a much-needed nap. On her stomach, of course.

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