I Witnessed Others Getting Spankings
ASSESSING THE DAMAGE!
This is a a follow-up to my story, “Gretchen Sets a Record,” in which I described how my sister received a sound spanking from our Mom for not doing her share of chores and back-sassing Mom on top of it! As always, my little sister Audrey and I were required to watch the spanking, after which Gretchen was made to display her well-tanned posterior in the corner for one full hour before being sent up to bed without supper.
This is an example of an after-spanking conversation among us three sisters when we were upstairs in our bedroom.
Audrey and I watched television with Mom until about ten o’clock. Because it was summer, we were allowed to stay up later. Then Mom said it was bedtime for us, while she stayed up a bit later.
Now we could see how our poor spanked sister was doing.
Too sore for any other position, Gretchen was lying on top of her blanket with only her pajama top on. She lay face-down with her arms folded and cradling her head. She was sniffling softly as I turned on the bedroom light.
Gretchen’s exposed bottom had been slathered with cold cream and dusted with baby powder, Mom’s usual first-aid treatment for a spanked rump. Gretchen’s face was turned away from us.
“How ya doin’, Gretch?” I asked cheerfully, trying to mask the seriousness of my sister’s plight.
“How do ya think?” Gretchen grumbled as she sniffled again.
“Is the cold cream helping any?” I asked.
Gretchen turned her head to face us.
“It still feels like I sat on a hot stove. God, it hurts!” Gretchen groaned.
“It oughta!” said Audrey. “Wow, seventy-five with the hairbrush! I don’t think Mom ever gave seventy-five before.”
“No she didn’t,” Gretchen sighed, then asked, “Am I still swollen up?”
I looked at Gretchen’s fattened butt-cheeks, still swollen from the trauma inflicted by the solid wood hairbrush that Mom used for tanning our hides.
“Oh yeah!” I observed. “It’s still pretty big. But on the bright side, Mom’s is still bigger!”
Gretchen laughed softly through her tears. One of the reasons for the severe spanking was for making snide remarks about Mom’s fat butt—which obviously was not appreciated.
“Oh, you shoulda seen!” said Audrey with unconcealed glee. “First it got pink, then it got darker, and then it got real red!”
“I saw it in the mirror,” Gretchen admitted sorrowfully.
Audrey continued to tease. “Yeah, you were waggin' your heinie from side to side, and you were yellin' ‘Oh my heinie!’ while Mom was spankin’ you.”
“Well it’s nothin’ to laugh about,” I told Audrey, who obviously had enjoyed watching her older sister get her hide tanned.
“Yeah, but it was funny though,” Audrey insisted.
“I’m glad you think so!” snapped Gretchen. “Know what? I’m gonna laugh at you next time you go over Mom’s garters. I’m gonna laugh a lot!”
Gretchen didn’t mean that, because she knew we were forbidden to laugh at a sister while she was being spanked, and anyone who did was next to “cross the garters” as we called the spanking, because we had to lie over the garters of Mom’s panty-girdle to receive it.
I tried to sound more humane. "Gretch, I’m sorry this happened.”
“So am I,” said Gretchen. “But believe me, I learned to keep my mouth shut after what Mom gave me today! This ain’t gonna happen again!”
Audrey and I got undressed and into our pajamas and prepared for bed. Before I turned out the bedroom light I asked Gretchen, “Do you want the blanket on you?”
“Are you for real?” Gretchen said. “I can’t even wear my pajama bottoms! And tomorrow I won’t be wearin' any underpants either.”
Mom’s tannings had a similar effect to a sunburn, which made the wearing of clothes, even thin panties, unbearable for at least a day. And the spanked girl had to eat all her meals standing at the kitchen counter, because she could not possibly sit down. I remember Gretchen was unable to sit for four days after this tanning.
I turned out the light, said good night to my sisters, and climbed into bed. I could still hear Gretchen crying softly in the darkness before I fell asleep.
This is a a follow-up to my story, “Gretchen Sets a Record,” in which I described how my sister received a sound spanking from our Mom for not doing her share of chores and back-sassing Mom on top of it! As always, my little sister Audrey and I were required to watch the spanking, after which Gretchen was made to display her well-tanned posterior in the corner for one full hour before being sent up to bed without supper.
This is an example of an after-spanking conversation among us three sisters when we were upstairs in our bedroom.
Audrey and I watched television with Mom until about ten o’clock. Because it was summer, we were allowed to stay up later. Then Mom said it was bedtime for us, while she stayed up a bit later.
Now we could see how our poor spanked sister was doing.
Too sore for any other position, Gretchen was lying on top of her blanket with only her pajama top on. She lay face-down with her arms folded and cradling her head. She was sniffling softly as I turned on the bedroom light.
Gretchen’s exposed bottom had been slathered with cold cream and dusted with baby powder, Mom’s usual first-aid treatment for a spanked rump. Gretchen’s face was turned away from us.
“How ya doin’, Gretch?” I asked cheerfully, trying to mask the seriousness of my sister’s plight.
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“How do ya think?” Gretchen grumbled as she sniffled again.
“Is the cold cream helping any?” I asked.
Gretchen turned her head to face us.
“It still feels like I sat on a hot stove. God, it hurts!” Gretchen groaned.
“It oughta!” said Audrey. “Wow, seventy-five with the hairbrush! I don’t think Mom ever gave seventy-five before.”
“No she didn’t,” Gretchen sighed, then asked, “Am I still swollen up?”
I looked at Gretchen’s fattened butt-cheeks, still swollen from the trauma inflicted by the solid wood hairbrush that Mom used for tanning our hides.
“Oh yeah!” I observed. “It’s still pretty big. But on the bright side, Mom’s is still bigger!”
Gretchen laughed softly through her tears. One of the reasons for the severe spanking was for making snide remarks about Mom’s fat butt—which obviously was not appreciated.
“Oh, you shoulda seen!” said Audrey with unconcealed glee. “First it got pink, then it got darker, and then it got real red!”
“I saw it in the mirror,” Gretchen admitted sorrowfully.
Audrey continued to tease. “Yeah, you were waggin' your heinie from side to side, and you were yellin' ‘Oh my heinie!’ while Mom was spankin’ you.”
“Well it’s nothin’ to laugh about,” I told Audrey, who obviously had enjoyed watching her older sister get her hide tanned.
“Yeah, but it was funny though,” Audrey insisted.
“I’m glad you think so!” snapped Gretchen. “Know what? I’m gonna laugh at you next time you go over Mom’s garters. I’m gonna laugh a lot!”
Gretchen didn’t mean that, because she knew we were forbidden to laugh at a sister while she was being spanked, and anyone who did was next to “cross the garters” as we called the spanking, because we had to lie over the garters of Mom’s panty-girdle to receive it.
I tried to sound more humane. "Gretch, I’m sorry this happened.”
“So am I,” said Gretchen. “But believe me, I learned to keep my mouth shut after what Mom gave me today! This ain’t gonna happen again!”
Audrey and I got undressed and into our pajamas and prepared for bed. Before I turned out the bedroom light I asked Gretchen, “Do you want the blanket on you?”
“Are you for real?” Gretchen said. “I can’t even wear my pajama bottoms! And tomorrow I won’t be wearin' any underpants either.”
Mom’s tannings had a similar effect to a sunburn, which made the wearing of clothes, even thin panties, unbearable for at least a day. And the spanked girl had to eat all her meals standing at the kitchen counter, because she could not possibly sit down. I remember Gretchen was unable to sit for four days after this tanning.
I turned out the light, said good night to my sisters, and climbed into bed. I could still hear Gretchen crying softly in the darkness before I fell asleep.
