A Helping Hand (A Shelly Brooks Story) M/F, F/F

[chardt]

This is the fifth story in the Shelly Brooks series. The other's are in the archives.

Shelly bounded up the short flight of steps that led to the portico of the stylish, two story town house that was her current home away from home. Reaching into the pocket of her leather, bomber jacket she fished out the keys and jammed them into the lock. She was already running behind. She intended to come straight home after the game, but then she realized that she was almost out of gas and for some reason the closest station was closed, so she had go out of her way. Now she’d have to rush to get ready for her post game date with Scott Spencer.

Damn, I need to thaw out first too, she thought, stamping her feet on the door mat.

It was a cold night for football and she wasn’t really much of a fan, but when you were dating the star quarterback, attendance was mandatory. Tonight’s game had been more exciting than most though with Scott throwing the winning touchdown pass in the last seconds of the game. It was almost worth freezing her buns off.

She pulled the door open, stepped inside and immediately felt her aggravation meter kicked into overdrive. Band uniform jackets, helmets and instrument cases were strewn all over the sectional sofa and living room floor.

Great, she thought, hurricane Cheyenne strikes again.

Cheyenne Kaylee Kurger was one of her roommates. The other was her cross country teammate Linda Larue. Linda’s father had leased the three bedroom townhouse for her with the understanding that she was to find two friends to contribute equally to the rent.

Eager to move out of the dorms, Shelly had readily accepted the offer. Cheyenne was also a friend of Linda’s, but Shelly hadn’t met her until they moved in together.

Things were all right at first. The place was luxurious compared to the dorms and they all got along okay. After a while she’d started to notice that Cheyenne was a bit of a slob and that she sometimes procrastinated on getting her assigned household chores done, but the effect was muted by the fact that Linda was a den mother type that didn’t seem to mind picking up after her friend and even sometimes doing her chores for her.

The problem of late was that Linda was missing in action. Not missing really, she was just more or less living at her boyfriend’s place. She still maintained her room and paid her rent, because she didn’t want her dad to know she was shacked up with a boy, but she was no longer around to take up Cheyenne’s slack and that was starting to get pretty old.

Sighing, she threw her purse on the dinning room table and set about picking up the colorful jackets and helmets. It was a distraction she didn’t need. She figured she only had about forty-five minutes before Scott would be there. She’d dressed heavily for the game, but she wanted to change into something cuter for their date. She hadn’t even decided what to wear yet and now she’d be rushed.

She headed up the stairs intent on dumping the uniforms outside Cheyenne’s bedroom door. This would be the third Friday she’d found it necessary to do so. She’d be in there of course with her boy Kevin.

Having to pick up after her housemate annoyed her to no end. It wasn’t that Cheyenne was a bitch or anything. She just seemed irresponsible for her age. She could only guess that she had always had someone to clean up for her.

Annoying tendencies aside, she was a cute, wholesome sort of girl; a short, green eyed, redhead like her friend Jill back home only with more generous curves. She was a bit loud and boisterous for Shelly’s tastes. She supposed that was because she was a Texan from someplace called Lubbock. Her boyfriend, Kevin was cut from the same mold; also a redhead, also from the middle of the country, somewhere in Kansas, and also a bandsman. Together, they formed one of those obnoxiously cute couples that looked like they could be brother and sister. They were also a couple of little romp rangers.

She’d always thought that was odd. They went to church together ever Sunday, but every Friday night they were up in Cheyenne’s room giving the bed springs a workout.

Not that she’d been any saint lately herself in that area. Scott was her first serious, long term relationship in years. She still found it hard to believe sometimes. Scott was gorgeous, smart and a talented athlete. He was probably the most sought after boy on campus and she had hooked him. Other women viewed her with green eyed envy and that suited her just fine.

Her lips curved into a sardonic smile.

Now if I could just get him to spank me, she thought.

She’d been aware of a fascination with spanking since she was a little girl. It was her kink and her big, dark personal secret. Her mom and her two closest girlfriends knew, but that was all. She’d never been able to bring the subject up with a boy and, so far, Scott hadn’t been the exception. She’d hinted mightily at it, but he just wouldn’t take the bait.

As she topped the stairs, she passed her own door and stopped to dump the band detritus in a heap outside Cheyenne’s.

They were in there all right. She could hear them, all shrieks and giggles, evidently engaged in some sort of rowdy horse play. She was turning back to her own door when things took an interesting turn.

Amidst the sounds of the horseplay there was a loud WHUMP and Cheyenne said, “Take that farm boy.”

“Oh, you are so going to pay for that!” Kevin said.

“Will not!”

“I mean it, missy. I’m not going to put up with your sassy Texas shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans! You ain’t seen shenanigans yet! Maybe you aren’t man enough to handle a Texas girl.”

“Yeah, I’ll handle you all right.”

“Oooo, I’m scared.”

“I mean it, Cheyenne. I’m going to learn you good.”

“Got to catch me first.”

She heard another round of steeple chase around the room, and then Cheyenne shrieked.

“Now you’re going to get it!”

“You do and I’ll hit you so hard you’ll go flyin’ back over the rainbow you Kansas sod buster!”

SMACK! SMACK!

“Yeooow!”

Shelly nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Take it back!”

“Never!”

Now there was a flurry of smacks interspersed with girlish squeals and the sound of toes drumming on the floor. She still couldn’t believe her ears. There was a spanking happening on the other side of that door and she knew from her own painful experience across her mother’s lap that those smacks were landing smartly on bare fanny cheeks.

No freakin’ way! she thought. Little band geeks are getting spanked by their Howdy Doody looking boyfriends and I can’t get a big strong football jock to give me so much as a love pat. Arrrrggg, life is so unfair!

“Move your hand.”

“No!”

SMACK! SMACK!

“Not my legs! Lot my legs!”

It was more than she could take. She spun on her heels and headed back to her own bedroom door.

Even through the wall she could hear it. Thankfully, Cheyenne capitulated after just a few more resounding smacks, but then the familiar sound of the bed springs squeaking came though the wall.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. She still had to get ready for her date and now she was really pressed for time. She kicked off her Ugg boots and quickly shed her jacket, jeans and sweatshirt.

Clad in her panties, bra and socks, she went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of black leggings and a white, Cashmere sweater her mother had given her for Christmas. She jumped into the leggings and went to her closet. After a quick scan she grabbed a silk blouse and a short, black leather skirt.

She always got a little flutter in the tummy when she pulled that particular skirt out. It was the same one she’d been wearing a year earlier when she’d earned herself what still qualified as the spanking of her life.

That memorable tanning had resulted from a debacle at an illegal rave she’d attended with her friends Katie and Jill while she was home on summer break. It was quite the drama, girls had been drugged, the police came, her car was towed. It was one of those nights where everything that could go wrong did and of course her mother had been forced to drive twenty miles to a strange hospital to pick them all up in the middle of the night. To say she was upset would be a serious understatement.

Already overwrought, her mother, the formidable Susan Brooks, had postponed her inevitable comeuppance until the following morning, but when the time came she’d made it one to remember. She’d taken the hairbrush to her bare seat until she could almost envision the flesh blistering. It hadn’t of course, but she did spend the next three days nursing a sore, bruised bottom.

To her surprise, Katie and Jill had showed up later that morning and in a touching but, she still thought, insane display of sisterly solidarity, insisted on a dose of the same medicine they new she had endured.

To her even greater surprise her mother obliged them with what they now referred to as a real Shelly spanking of their very own; bare fanny, with the brush!

She pulled on some dressy black boots and grabbed her nice suede coat from the closet. Sitting at her dressing table, she undid her pony tail and ran a brush through her chestnut tresses.

It was a modern plastic brush, but it was similar in size and shape to the antique, wooden monster brush her mother spanked her with when she didn’t think a mere hand spanking would suffice.

She felt the fluttering in her tummy again. Even those maternal spankings were a relatively new experience for her. Although she’d obsessed about corporal punishment since her early childhood, she hadn’t first been turned over her mother’s sturdy lap until the ripe old age of nineteen.

It seemed hard to believe thinking back on it. After all, her mother had been no stranger to the experience of a smarting set of bottom cheeks growing up. Grandma Hutton lived in town and dropped by frequently. Often growing up, she’d heard her mother and grandmother reminiscing about spankings past and those stories of maternal correction had fueled her adolescent fantasies.

Her father, however, was dead set against the practice and so she’d gone unspanked. By the time she was a college sophomore she’d given up on the idea of ever experiencing a real discipline spanking like the ones her mother had grown up with. She’d had to content herself with the stories she could find on line.

That was when fate intervened. Owing to an indiscretion on the family computer, her mother had discovered her unusual proclivities.

She could still feel the mortification when she thought back on it. Having to explain to her mother that she had been the one that was up in the middle of the night looking at kinky websites and not her younger brother Bill as her mother had first suspected.

Embarrassing as that moment had been, it led to a long overdue, heart to heart talk between them. It had been terribly hard to explain and she knew how bewildered her mother felt, but she’d been open minded and even consented to read some of the spanking stories she had printed out.

It was a relief in many ways finally being able to talk about it with her mom, but she hadn’t really expected anything more to come of it. That was when Susan Brooks dropped a bomb of her own.

She told her that she felt she deserved a spanking for the computer incident and if she was really that curious about the experience she’d give her one. She promised it would be a real, pants down, fanny blistering just like the girls in the stories got too!

She spent the rest of the day wrestling with the decision of whether or not to go through with it, but in the end she knew she had to. She had to know once and for all what a real spanking was like.

That night, when her father and brother were out at a ball game, she’d made the walk down the long hallway to the master bedroom, and knees wobbling, tummy flip flopping and palms sweating, she timidly knocked on the door.

Her mother accepted her decision calmly enough and got right down to the business at hand. Seated on her vanity table bench, she turned her errant daughter over her knee, stripped her pajama pants to half mast and spanked her strapping, nineteen year old fanny cheeks until she cried real tears all over the carpet.

It was an eye opening experience, more intense emotionally and physically than she had ever imagined, but once the spanking was over and she had her tears under control, she knew it had been cathartic, not just for her, but her mother as well.

Another heartfelt talk, post spanking, led the to agreement that was still in effect between them, namely that she would be eligible for such spankings at her mother’s discretion, or if she herself felt she deserved one, until such time as she moved out of the house for good.

They didn’t happen frequently, she was a reasonably responsible girl most of the time and she was away at school for much of the year, but there had been more than a few times in the last three years when she’d slipped up in some way and wound up making that gut churning walk to the master bedroom with her mother.

It was never done in anger. Once the bedroom door closed her mother would sit her on the side of the bed for a talking to. She didn’t yell or berate her; it was just a firm talk about why her actions had been wrong and why she was going to be spanked for them.

Not that it wasn’t seriously intimidating. Often by the end of the talk she was feeling so weak in the knees that her mother had to help her up off the bed and gently but firmly march her to the vanity bench where the actual spanking would be carried out quickly and efficiently.

She set the brush down, applied more lipstick and gave herself a quick sprits of perfume. Looking at the brush she couldn’t help but think on the fact that the days of her maternal spankings where quickly coming to an end. She was a college senior. Soon, she would have a job and a place of her own and the agreement would be officially over. She had mixed feelings about it.

“You were never as brave about it as you imagined you’d be when it was just a fantasy, were you?” she said, accusingly to her reflection in the mirror.

In the stories she liked the best, the girl was always bravely resolved to take her medicine. Often there’d even be some plucky gallows banter with her disciplinarian as panties were being taken down.

She’d never managed it herself. Every time she’d stood to the right of that vanity bench she felt like a quivering bowl of jelly. She stuttered and stammered and fumbled to get her pants down with fingers that seemed to have suddenly lost the will to obey her brain.
Occasionally she’d get a firm hurry up command from her mother, but most of the time she just sat there with that look of firm resolve on her face, tapping that big brush against the palm of her left hand until her daughter managed to get her condemned buns bared and in position across her lap.

She had always been close to her mother, but ever since that first trip to the maternal woodshed, she had found a new sense of respect for her. She couldn’t help but admire the fact that she had the resolve to take a grown, often willful and headstrong daughter, over her knee and spank her to tears each and every time she’d merited such punishment.

More and more lately she found herself wondering if she could find the same strength within herself should she one day have a daughter in need. She wasn’t at all sure that she could.

The most troubling realization for her though, was knowing that it wasn’t a need she was ever going to grow out of herself. In the last few years she’d become increasingly aware of the fact that she wanted a man in her life who wouldn’t hesitate to administer some firm handed guidance when she needed it. She just couldn’t imagine her self going over her mother’s knee when she was in her forties.

She smiled a little thinking about that picture. She couldn’t imagine it, but she had little doubt her mom would do it just as long as she was physically able!

It wasn’t just the discipline she needed though. She felt more and more certain that she wanted what had just transpired in the next room. She couldn’t even remember how many times she’d fantasized playing out such a scene with Scott. Just thinking about it now made her tingle all over.

She gave her reflection a sardonic smile as she thought on the bitter irony of it.

Here I have the most desirable guy on campus and I still have reason to be jealous of what another girl has. A short, loud, slightly chubby Texan no less.

She heard the doorbell ring. Standing, she gave herself a final look in her full length mirror. She even bent over drawing the snug leather skirt tighter across her curvy ass.

She sighed.

What guy wouldn’t want to spank that?

She was always being told what a great butt she had. Even other girls said it. Scott loved to grab it when he kissed her, but so far he’d given her nothing remotely resembling a smack.

Do I really have to spell it out for him? Why can’t he just get it!

She grabbed her suede coat off the bed and dashed out into the hall. When she reached the stairs, she heard conversation coming from the kitchen. Cheyenne and Kevin had evidently come up for air and had already let Scott in.

“Awesome pass man,” Kevin said.

“Damn their defense was tough,” Scott said. “I thought I was going to get sacked there for sure until I saw Washington open in the end zone. I just said a prayer and threw it as hard as I could.”

“You were grace under pressure,” Cheyenne said, in her Texas drawl.

“Aw I over threw it. Washington deserves all the credit. He beat out double coverage, made that incredible leap and still got his feet down.”

It was so like Scott, Shelly thought. He always gave the credit to his team mates. As she reached the bottom of the stair she saw them standing together in the kitchen.

Cheyenne and Kevin were arm in arm wearing matching band tee shirts and sweatpants. They looked annoyingly adorable. Cheyenne’s mane of red hair was disheveled and they both had that glow you only get after really good sex. She couldn’t help wondering if Scott noticed it.

“Hey Shell,” Cheyenne said. “Sorry about the uniforms.”

“No problem,” she said, giving her room mate a look that said it was a problem and we will discuss it later.

Scott turned around and looked her up and down.

“Be still my heart,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “You’re looking good too, for a guy who spent the last two hours getting beat up.”

The truth was that he looked perfect as always. He was six foot three with a square jaw, blue eyes and blond hair worn in a business like, military sort of cut. He was resplendent in tan chinos, a black dress shirt and his black and gold varsity jacket.

“Yeah they pushed us around pretty bad out there,” he admitted. “I can’t wait to see the films and figure out what we were doing wrong.”

“So what’s the plan?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I think maybe a modified wishbone would be more effective against them.”

She cocked her head sideways and gave him a look.

“Tonight, Scott. What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Oh right, well, there’s a victory party at O’Leary’s. We have to make an appearance, you know how it is, but after that I thought we’d slip out and have dinner at that little place you like on the river and maybe hit a dance club later.”

“Sounds good,” she said, genuinely pleased with the itinerary.

It was one of the things she loved about Scott, be it the gridiron or dating he always knew what he wanted to do. When she’d asked that question in high school the answer was always, I don’t know, what do you want to do? or Whatever you want to do.

She enjoyed having that kind of power over boys at first, but then it got annoying and ultimately, she’d end up despising them for their indecisiveness.

With Scott, she always felt like he was in command.

So why haven’t I been over your knee yet, dumbass? she caught herself thinking.

Scott turned to Kevin and Cheyenne.

“You guys should come to O’Leary’s. It’ll be a blast.”

“Thanks,” Cheyenne said, snuggling up to Kevin, “but I think we’re just going to hang here tonight. You guys have fun though.”

He turned back to Shelly.

“Miss Brooks, are you ready?” he asked.

“Lead on,” she said, grabbing her purse off the table.






Shelly guided her little, black Corolla into the driveway in front of the townhouse and hopped out. She checked her watch as she climbed the steps. The hands indicated 8:00 a.m..

Great, she thought, the bobbsey twins will be up by now.

She still felt oddly self conscious returning in the clothes she had on the night before, as if she should be wearing a scarlet A or something. She didn’t know why. It was unlikely the neighbors would even notice and Cheyenne was certainly no paragon of virgin virtue.

Deep down, she supposed it was because she could easily imagine the look she would get from her mother. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t in high school any more. She was a twenty-one year old college senior and if she wanted to spend the night with her boyfriend, that was her prerogative. Scott maintained a nice loft and he didn’t have room mates and it was just easier going there when she needed to satisfy her carnal cravings.

I’m really going to have to start keeping some clothes there, at least some jeans and a sweatshirt or something.

When she came through the front door, she was surprised to smell food cooking. Coming around the corner, she saw Cheyenne in the kitchen poking at a skillet with a spatula. She was also dressed as she had been the night before, in her band tee shirt, sweatpants and bunny slippers. Her hair was still disheveled, but she had the bulk of it pulled back into a ponytail secured with a scrunchy .

“Hey, Shelly,” Cheyenne called out. “Did you eat yet? I made scrabble.”

She threw her coat and purse on the couch and walked into the kitchen.

“I don’t know what that is, unless you’re cooking little wood tiles with letters on them in there. It smells good though.” she said, sitting at the small kitchen table.

“It’s just scramble eggs with some green peppers and onions and ham chopped up in it and some shredded cheese,” Cheyenne explained as she scooped some out of the pan and onto Shelly’s plate.

“Thanks,” Shelly said. “Now please tell me I smell coffee.”

“Yep, toast too.”

Cheyenne brought her a cup of coffee and set a plate stacked with toasted bread on the table before taking her own seat.

Shelly looked around noticing that only two places were set.

“Kevin go home already?”

“He’s playing some paintball game with his friends this morning, so he left early.”

“You weren’t invited?”

Cheyenne grabbed a piece of toast and started slathering it with butter.

“Boys need their guy time or they feel smothered. I guess you don’t have to worry about that. Scott probably gets all of that he needs with the team.”

Shelly took a sip of coffee and shook her head.

“Not always. He rushed off early this morning to help one of his team mates fix his car. He’s meeting me at the gym later though.”

“Boy’s love their cars.”

“So, what’s the occasion?” Shelly asked, adding more cream to her coffee. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cook before.”

“Well, I was pretty hungry this morning and you usually get back pretty early when you stay over at Scott’s and I was hoping to butter you up a little so you wouldn’t yell at me about the uniforms.”

Shelly gave her a wry look.

“Is it working?” Cheyenne asked, hopefully.

“A little,” Shelly admitted, “but seriously, is it that hard to carry those things upstairs with you.”

“Sorry. We were going to. I even reminded Kevin to remind me, but we were kind of wound up and one thing led to another --- when exactly did you get back anyway?”

“About forty minutes after the game ended,” Shelly said. “You know, right about the time you were getting spanked,” she added, pointedly.

“Oh my god!” Cheyenne said, blushing and burying her face in her hands. “You heard that?”

“That and everything after. These walls are kind of thin you know.”

Slowly, Cheyenne brought her face back up.

“Well, I’m embarrassed, but please don’t get the wrong idea, Shelly. Kevin doesn’t abuse me or anything. I just get in a rowdy mood sometimes and I like to play a little rough like that.”

Shelly smiled enjoying her roomies discomfort.

“Relax, Cheyenne, I get it. Believe me, I get it.”

“Oh --- OH!” Cheyenne said, her eyes lighting up. “You mean --- you and Scott?”

Shelly sighed.

“Not yet, I seem to be having trouble getting him into rowdy mode.”

“But you like some spankin’s with your lovin’s sometimes?”

“I’ve never actually had any with my lovin’s, but it hasn’t been for lack of trying.”

“So, it’s just a fantasy? You haven’t really had one yet?”

Shelly let out a throaty chuckle.

“Oh I’ve had spankings all right, but only from my mom, so far.”

Cheyenne’s face lit up again.

“Oh wow!” she said. “You had a spanking mom?”

Shelly frowned at her roomie’s strange reaction.

“That pleases you does it?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, honest. It’s just, well this will probably sound weird, but I always kind of wished that my mom would have. The truth is I’ve always kind of had a thing about spankings; even when I was little.”

“It’s not that weird,” Shelly said. “Not to me anyway.”

“So, you too?”

Shelly nodded.

“As long as I can remember.”

“Well, spankos unite!”

Cheyenne raised her coffee cup offering a toast. Shelly cringed at the word spanko being spoken out loud. It still made her feel like a pervert, but she humored her house mate and touched her cup to Cheyenne’s.

“My parents wouldn’t do it,” Cheyenne said, “even though it wasn’t that uncommon where I grew up. My friend Tina got spanked all the time; even when we were in high school.”

“Did you get to see any?”

She found herself warming up to the idea of discussing her favorite obsession with a like minded peer.

“No, but a lot of times we’d get in trouble together for something and her mom would tell her to go get the wood spoon or the strap or whatever she was going to spank her with and wait in her room. I mean she’d say it right in front of me and then she’d tell me she was going to call my mom and tell her what we did. That’s when she’d make me go home.”

“Right when the good part was starting.”

“You got that right. I remember thinking, No, don’t send me home. Spank me too!”

“Did you ever feel weird about it?”

“Oh, lord yes, all the time. I knew it wasn’t really normal, but I also knew I wanted it.”

“But would you have really gone through with it if she offered to spank you too instead of telling your mom?”

“I don’t know. I sure thought about it a lot. You know, me and Tina getting it from her mom together. I even acted it out with my dolls sometimes.”

“Well, that all sounds pretty familiar only with me it was my mom and my grandma.”

“How do you mean.”

“My grandma Hutton lives in town, so she’s over at our house pretty often and a lot of times they’d be talking about old times and some story would come up about a time when my mom got in trouble for something and grandma really spanked her for it. I mean, I could tell it was really a punishment, but when they talked about it they were always laughing and joking. It was like this big bonding thing between them and I’d always be thinking, Why don’t you spank me like that?”

Cheyenne frowned.

“Wait a minute; I thought you said she did spank you.”

“She did, but not until later on.”

“Like in high school?”

“Like in college.”

Cheyenne’s eyebrows shot up and she almost choked on some scrabble.

“You got your first spanking from your mom after you started college?”

“When I was a sophomore,” Shelly admitted. “I was nineteen.”

“Well, I don’t mean to pry, but that’s definitely a story I’d like to hear.”

Shelly sipped her coffee and thought about it for a few seconds.

“I’ll tell you about it if you want, but I don’t want this all over school. You have to swear this stays between you and me.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Cheyenne said, crossing her heart, “it’s not something I go blabbing around either. Too many people don’t understand it.”

“Well, okay,” Shelly said.

For the next ten minutes she related the story of her introduction to maternal spankings; the indiscretion on the family computer, the awkward talk with her mother, her mother’s surprising offer. She left nothing out. Finally, she took her step by step through that first memorable spanking over her mother’s knee and the agreement they made afterward.

She actually found she enjoyed telling it, for the first time, to someone who could truly understand and Cheyenne had indeed hung on every word. Her green eyes looked big as saucers by the end of the narrative.

“Wow!” Cheyenne said. “Now that sounds like what they call a real proper spanking back home.”

“You definitely know you had a punishment when it’s over.”

“Is the hairbrush as bad as they always say it is in spanking stories?”

Shelly nodded emphatically.

“It’s hard to imagine until you experience it. I imagined it a lot growing up, but that first time was really a shock. You don’t get used to it either. It’s a shock every time it happens.”

“Man, you’re so lucky. I mean I know it hurt and all, I’m not making light, but at least your mom understood. I don’t think I could ever talk to my mom about it like that.”

Shelly chuckled.

“I don’t know how lucky it is. I mean, I asked for it and I guess deep down I know I need to really get it like that sometimes, but I sure don’t feel too lucky when I’m over her lap getting one. When that brush starts landing on my butt I wish I could get in a time machine and go back and undo whatever I got in trouble for.”

“Do you cry?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted, “especially if it’s a really good one with the brush.”

“So, do you regret making that agreement with her?”

Shelly chewed on some toast while she pondered the question.

“No, I don’t regret it,” she said, finally. “I mean, I regret when I screw up and I know I’m really going to get my but tanned for it, but at the end of the day, I guess I like knowing that there’s someone in my life that will make me toe the line like that. I think I’m always going to need that.”

“Well, I think you’re lucky. I’m kind of jealous to tell you the truth. I mean you got a mom who tans you butt when you need it and you get to date the gorgeous football hero. Save some for the rest of us, girl.”

“Oh ha, ha and where do you get off being jealous?” Shelly asked. “You’re the one that’s getting the good stuff here at school. How the heck do you get a boyfriend to spank you anyway, because I’m not having any luck at all with that one?”

“Oh, trial and error mostly,” she said with a laugh. “I started trying back in middle school, you know, birthday spankings and such, but Kevin is my first real success.”

Shelly smiled.

“He sure sounded like he knew what he was doing last night.”

“He’s still a work in progress actually, but I’m proud of him. He’s come a long way.”

“So, he’s really your first? No luck in high school? I always thought there were a lot of macho types in Texas.”

“Oh there are and I got some spankings, but it was never right. Mostly it was just frustrating. I mean some of them would talk a good game, really get my motor running and then they’d get me over their lap and I’d get the little patty cake smacks. I just wanted to scream. I’d even insult them, you know, trying to egg them on, but I’d just get, Oh, I didn’t want to hurt you. I mean, land sakes, dummy, it’s a spanking. It’s supposed to hurt!”

“So you want them to really bring it? I thought that was more like a game you were playing last night. It wasn’t like he was really mad at you was it?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain. When I get in that kind of mood it’s almost like there’s this pressure building up inside me. Once I’m over someone’s lap I want to kick and squirm and yell and cuss and just let it all out, so yeah, they have to put some heart into it. I want them to do it like they mean it! If they don’t, I feel like --- well, like I’m faking an orgasm or something. I don’t know; does that make any sense?”

“Oh, it makes sense,” Shelly said. “And I’ve felt that pressure building for a long time.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be that hard to get Scott to do it. He’s so commanding.”

“I know. When we work out together at the gym he doesn’t cut me any slack at all. He really pushes me.”

“That is so hot when there all strict with you for you own good.”

“Oh, god yeah.”

Cheyenne sighed.

“And those muscular thighs. He must have the greatest lap.”

“Hey! Stop fantasizing about my boyfriend!”

“Sorry, but come on Shell, he’s an Adonis. I can’t help but notice. I mean I love Kevin to death, but he’s got kind of boney knees.”

“Well, it does feel pretty incredible when I sit on it. I’ve yet to try it, you know, sunny side up.”

“Then we need to get you sunny side up and thoroughly toasted A. S. A. P. girl.”

“No argument here, but how?”

“Boy’s are like dogs, Shelly. When they do the trick right you give them a treat, when they don’t you whack them on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.”

“But so far he won’t even try the trick.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe he just needs a little monkey see monkey do.”

“What have you got in mind?”

“Simple. We go out on a double date. You and I brat it up; drink a little too much, talk a little too loud, anything that will really push their buttons. When we get back here, I’ll make sure Kevin’s feeling inspired to really tan my fanny good. Like you said, the walls are thin. Scott will hear what’s going on and he won’t want to look like a wimp compared to Kevin. I doubt if you’ll have to egg him on too much.”

“Do you really think it’ll work?”

“Well, I think I can get you in the saddle, but you’re going to have to break him in from there. I’ll tell you what though. If I do get you spanked, you’re going to owe me a favor. Fair enough?”

“You’re going to make me wash the dishes for a month or something, aren’t you?”

Cheyenne gave her a smug smile.

“Maybe. Wouldn’t it be worth it to finally get what you want?”

“Yeah, fair enough, but that pile in the sink right now is yours left over from yesterday, so you better get cracking.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, picking up their plates and heading to the overflowing sink, “I’ll do the dishes.”






Shelly followed Cheyenne back into the townhouse. The boys came in right behind her.

“I think you and I need to have little talk upstairs,” Kevin said, giving Cheyenne a smack on the seat of her tightly packed jeans.

“Okay, we’ll have a talk upstairs,” Cheyenne said, her voice thick with sarcasm. She stomped up the flight with Kevin right behind her.

“You too, Miss Brooks,” Scott said, pointing to the second floor.

“Whatever,” Shelly said, with all of the brat attitude she could muster.

Mounting the stairs, she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d taken the thing a bit too far. She and Cheyenne had both gotten a little drunker than they’d planned and from that point the whole scheme seemed to turn into a competition between them to see who could be the most provocative.

Cheyenne had scored early when she managed to tie Kevin’s shoelace to a table leg, resulting in a pratfall worthy of Jim Carrey. Scott had laughed as loud as anyone, but he hadn’t been very amused when she’d impulsively dumped a large glass of ice down the back of his shirt causing him to emit an almost girlish shriek.

The whole outing had been a rush in that dangerous exciting way and along with her partner in crime, she’d kept up the brat banter on the ride home, but the boys had been ominously silent.

She was still feeling emboldened by the four rum drinks she’d had and, as she entered her bedroom door, she found herself fervently wishing that Scott would show some spine and make her pay dearly for the fun she’d had at his expense.

Scott closed the door firmly behind him and stood glaring at her. Ignoring his look she kicked off her Ugg boots and tossed her bomber jacket on the bed. That left her clad in a cute little denim skirt worn over white leggings and a red turtle neck sweater that was tight enough to show off her goodies.

“You better sit down, young lady, because you and I need to have a talk,” Scott said.

Yes! Young lady.

“No! I don’t want too,” she said, with a dramatic toss of her chestnut tresses.

She could hear some heated talk from the next room coming though the wall.

“Fine, stand if you want, but we’re still going to talk.”

“So talk.”

“Just what the hell did you think you were doing tonight?”

“It was a fun park, Scott. I was having fun, duh!”

“You were behaving like a world class brat is what you were doing!”

Yes, more of that! More about what a brat I am!

“Was I?”

“I don’t know what’s got into you. It wasn’t just the booze, I’ve seen you drink before and it’s not P.M.S. because I’ve seen that too! Do you and Cheyenne just affect each other like that?”

“Maybe,” she said, “or maybe this is just another side of me you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s a side I’d keep hidden if I were you.”

“Maybe I like to let wild Shelly come out and play once and a while. Is she really too much for the big strong quarterback to handle? Do I always need to put my kid gloves on before I go out with you?”

Scott, who was clearly fuming, was about to reply when the sound of a shriek followed by several rapid fire smacks came though the wall.

“Now say you’re sorry,” Kevin demanded.

“No! Make me!” was Cheyenne’s spirited reply.

More rapid fire smacks followed.

“Is that --- is he…” Scott stammered.

“Spanking her butt,” Shelly offered. “I guess there’s at least one man in this house that knows how to handle a girl who’s feeling too big for her britches. Who would have figured it would be the freckle faced, trombone player from Kansas.”

She couldn’t believe she’d spoken the words out loud. It was the closest she’d ever come to out rightly daring a boy to spank her.

“Well, I’m starting to think he has the right idea all right. Maybe that’s exactly what you need!”

“Oooo, I’m scared.”

A look of iron willed determination came into his blue eyes. He doffed his varsity jacket and threw it on the bed.

“If you don’t settle down you’re going to be scared to sit for the rest of this week.”

She defiantly folded her arms across her chest.

“You really think you’re man enough for the job. I’m not a little band girl you know.”

She stuck her tongue out for good measure.

“And I’m not a freckle faced trombone player,” he said, advancing on her.

Determined to make him earn it, Shelly dodged to the left and scampered across the mattress to the far side of the bed. Scott anticipated the move and got there almost as fast as she did. She threw herself back on the mattress and rolled back to the other side hoping to get to the door. Again Scott was faster. He caught her just as her feet were hitting the floor.

The next move happened so fast it was only a blur. Holding her by the right arm, he dragged her four big stumbling steps toward her vanity table. At the end of the short march she was pitched forward and her tummy came down hard across his lap. Her chestnut hair came spilling down all around her face. She knew the position should be familiar enough to her, but she felt oddly disoriented. Then she realized that she was facing the wrong way. Scott was right handed, but he’d bent her across his left knee.

Damn it! How am I going to get this straightened out?

“Last chance, Brooks. Are you going to settle down?”

“No! I wont!”

SMACK! SMACK! Two firm but rather awkward smacks landed. One was too high and the other was more on her hip than her butt.

“Is that the best you got? You don’t spank any better with you left hand than you throw with it.”

“Well then I guess we’ll just have to make an adjustment as we say in the game.”

She was yanked to her feet, pulled around to the other side, and thrown back over his lap. She just had time to register the carpet rushing up at her face when her momentum was checked and she was once again locked into place.

“And as long as we’re making adjustments…” he said.

She felt the little denim skirt being yanked up and then, his hand was inside the waist band of the leggings.

“No, don’t you dare pull my leggings down!”

She shot her hand back and just managed to get hold of the material. It wasn’t a contest she had any intention of winning, but she still felt compelled to make him work for it.

Happily, Scott wasn’t to be denied. One by one her fingers were pried loose and the garment went down in a flash. An intense rush of excitement shot through her as she realized that she was actually bare assed across Scott Spencer’s very muscular thighs.

“Now you and I are going to get some things straight, young lady!”

The line startled her. It was more or less the same thing her mother said the fist time she’d turned her over her knee. She could still hear Cheyenne getting it through the wall and now, heart pounding, she realized she was about to joint the party in earnest.

Scott’s left arm tightened around her ribcage, locking her in place. She felt his weight shift and she knew his big right hand was poised over her naked seat.

She set her jaw and steeled herself for the onslaught she sincerely hoped was coming. It wasn’t a long wait.

Ten times the big hand flattened her muscular cheeks with an intensity that took her breath away.

“Now, are you going to stop being such a brat and listen to reason?” Scott asked.

It had been an impressive start, but as Cheyenne liked to say, it wasn’t her first rodeo and she wasn’t about to capitulate that quickly.

“No, my mom spanks harder than that!”

She made a show of trying to struggle free which to her delight she found was quite impossible. It was almost like she was locked in a steel vice.

“You’re not going anywhere yet, Miss. Brooks,” Scott said, confirming her own assessment. “Not until I get you straightened out!”

With that said, her fist spanking across the knee of a lover commenced in earnest. Scott’s hand was landing hard and fast all over her defenseless seat. The heat quickly built to the point where she found herself kicking and squirming as energetically as she ever had over her mother’s lap. It was no show either, just her bodies honest reaction the fire raining down on her increasingly tender fanny cheeks.

“Yeeeeowwww! Ouch! Ow! Damn! Oh!”

She howled out the usual litany of a girl being treated to a sound spanking. She thought it must be at least as intense as her mother’s brush and yet her mind seemed to be stuck somewhere between wanting it to stop and wanting it harder still.

Scott made the decision for her, momentarily halting the proceedings.

“Are you ready to settle down and explain what this is all about?”

She used the respite to suck badly needed air into her lungs. As her mind started to clear she became aware of the fact that Scott was hard, very hard. Even through his denim jeans she could feel his impressive member pressing against her belly.

Well, that’s promising.

“Please, Scott, I’m sorry, but please don’t make me explain.”

She really hadn’t anticipated having to explain herself. Just then Cheyenne’s voice came through the wall.

“Spank her good, Scott!” she said. “This whole thing was her idea!”

Her own spanking concluded she was evidently enjoying listening to Shelly’s.

“Cheyenne, you brat,” Shelly shouted back. “That’s a big lie and you know it! Spank her for lying, Kevin!”

“I’d be worried about your own butt if I were you, young lady,” Scott said. “Now you better start talking.”

“No, Scott, please.”

“Suit yourself,” he said.

He launched into a new salvo of spanks even harder than the first.

She managed to hold out for another thirty seconds before a series of smacks directed against the backs of her thighs finally broke her will.

“Owwwiee! Ouch! Please! Ow! Scott please! Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll explain! I’ll explain!” she shouted.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said, still panting for breath. “I’ll be good.”

He let her slid off his lap and onto her knees. She sat there, hands clapped to her burning cheeks, looking up at him for a few seconds while she waited for her head to stop spinning. Her bottom was throbbing, but throbbing in an oddly good way and she was becoming increasingly aware of another sensation stirring in her nether regions.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She could see the worry in his eyes and she knew he was afraid he’d taken it too far.

She nodded.

“I’ll live,” she said, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “And I am sorry, Scott, honestly I am. I behaved like a real brat tonight and you were right to spank me. I deserved it.”

To her delight, she could hear Cheyenne getting another dose and guessed that Kevin had taken her suggestion to spank her for lying.

“You deserved it all right, but I don’t think that’s the whole story. You’ve still got a lot of explaining to do, young lady.”

“I know,” she said, looking up at him through her chestnut bangs, “but first…”

She reached forward, unzipped his pants and stuck her hand inside, dragging out his still engorged cock.

“Now what are you up too?” he asked, eyeing her with some suspicion.

“I just want to show you how sorry I am for putting you through all of this tonight,” she said. “Any objections?”

“No,” he said, “but I still expect an explanation. Don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

Even as she took him into her mouth, she couldn’t believe what she was doing. It was by far the most aggressive thing she’d ever done sexually and she was even more surprised to find she was enjoying it.

Cheyenne’s words ran through her mind.

You’ve got to reward them when they do the trick well.

Good boy, Scott, she thought, Good boy!






Two hours later, she lay naked and exhausted in Scott’s arms, her head resting on his bare chest listening to his heart beat.

“Wow!” Scott said.

“Yeah!”

It had been the most satisfying and uninhibited sex she’d had in her life. It still seemed like a dream.

“Do you still want you’re explanation?” she asked, realizing now that she wanted to get it all out in the open.

“I think I’d probably better hear it.”

“I want to tell you, but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you’ll think I’m a weirdo; that you won’t want to be with me anymore.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said, stroking her hair. “Now just tell me. I promise it’ll be all right.”

“It’s true what I said earlier about wild Shelly,” she said. “I’m not crazy; I don’t have two personalities or anything like that. I think you know I’m a pretty normal girl most of the time, but sometimes I do want to be a bad girl and really cut loose.”

“Shelly, everyone feels like that sometimes. We studied about it in philosophy. Carl Jung called it the duality of man.”

“Yeah, I know about Jung. We took that class together. Just let me finish.”

“Okay,” he said, backing off.

“I want to cut loose like that sometimes, but I also want to know that there’s someone in my life that’s going to be there to rein me in again so I don’t take it too far. That’s always been my mom, but I’m 21 now. She won’t always be there for me like that and as long as we’re together, I want it to be you.”

“Well, I think I’m up to the task.”

“Even if it means you have to spank me sometimes like you did tonight?”

Her voice sank almost to a whisper when she said it.

“I think I could get used to the idea,” he assured her.

“Yeah, I got the feeling you kind of enjoyed tanning my butt.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” she admitted. “I don’t want you to ever feel bad about it, but I’m serious. You need to be strict with me. If I really screw up you need to really spank me.”

“I will, if you’re sure that’s what you need.”

“You won’t let me talk you out of it or use my feminine wiles to distract you.”

“Oh, I’d spank you extra hard if you tried that, Shelly Lynn Brooks.”

“Yes, sir! That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Good.”

“I do have a pretty spankable butt, don’t I.”

“You have a great butt.”

“So, if I’m feeling feisty and I just want you to spank me for fun, would that be okay? I’d make it fun for you too of course.”

“Fun how?”

“Like a game. I could be a femme fatal cheerleader from another team and I try to seduce you to get your secrets. Maybe you catch me sneaking your play book into my backpack.”

“Well, you’d have to be punished of course.”

“Definitely.”

“Those cheerleaders are a wily bunch. You can’t give them an inch.”

“So, you’re okay with all of this. You don’t think I’m a big weirdo?”

“You’re kind of a weirdo,” he said, “but you’re my weirdo and I love you.”

He gave her a long, open mouthed kiss.

“Good,” she said, resting her head on his chest again. “There is one more thing though,” she added.

“What’s that?”

“This is all a very personal thing for me, Scott. You’re the only boy I’ve ever trusted with any of this and I expect it to stay between you and me.”

“It will,” he said.

“Good, because if I hear so much as one naughty little girl comment or spanking joke from your football buddies, I’ll wait until you’re asleep some night and cut your balls off. Understood?”

He swallowed hard.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Okay then.”

She let herself drift off into a deep, blissful sleep.






Shelly didn’t see Cheyenne again until Sunday afternoon. They both spent most of the morning hunkered down in their rooms enjoying the company of their lovers. Finally, around 1:00, Scott reluctantly departed to tend to school work and to give her a chance to do the same. She ran out to the store then to pick up some things, especially ice cream which she found herself craving. When she got back, Kevin’s car was gone.

Coming through the door, she found Cheyenne in the kitchen enjoying a lunch of peanut butter and jelly with milk. Their eyes locked and they both dissolved into a furious fit of giggles.

“So, was it everything you imagined?” Cheyenne asked, once she had her laughter under control.

Shelly set her groceries down on the counter and joined her housemate at the table.

“Well,” she said, “I can’t say there isn’t room for improvement, but for a first time, yeah, it was pretty incredible.”

“Some awkward moments though?”

“Oh a few. He got me over his lap the wrong way at first, you know, lefty instead of righty.”

Cheyenne rolled her big green eyes.

“Typical rookie mistake. You didn’t get the two handed spank did you? The one like they think they’re playing a bong drum.”

“No, thank god.”

“I used to get that one a lot in high school.”

“All things considered, I’m pretty pleased though, so thank you.”

“My pleasure. Are you still sore? It sounded like he really blistered your butt.”

“He’s a strong boy with big hands. I’m a little bruised actually, but then I haven’t had one in a while. How about you? It didn’t sound like Kevin was holding anything back either.”

“Naw, I used to get red as a tomato when we first started and I’d still be plenty pink the next day, but the color doesn’t last long at all any more. It always kind of feels like a gyp. Good, sound spankin’ like that and I’ve got nothing to show for it the next day.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be getting it that often from Scott. I think I need to break him in slowly, let him have some time to get used to the idea. I don’t want him to think he’s going to have to deal with all that bratting every time we go out. It might scare him off.”

Cheyenne gave her a toothy grim.

“Yeah, we did get a little carried away with it. Wasn’t it fun though?”

“It sure was,” Shelly said, “and I haven’t forgotten that I owe you a favor now.”

“Yes you do. Do you want to talk about that now?”

“It’s as good a time as any I guess, but please be fair about it.”

“I will, but I need to go get something first, so wait here.”

Chyenne got up and trotted up the stairs. Shelly put groceries away until she heard Cheyenne coming back down. She entered the kitchen holding something behind her back.

“And what have you got there?” Shelly asked, eyeing the little redhead with suspicion.

Cheyenne set a large, wood hairbrush on the table and slid it over to her.

“You want me to brush your hair?” Shelly asked, confused.

“No, silly, I want a spanking. A real one, like your mom does.”

The request caught her completely off guard. She wasn’t sure what to say at first.

“Surprised?” Cheyenne prompted.

“Yeah, I’m surprised. Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah, I’m serious! Come on Shelly, be honest. It’s not like you never thought it. All those times you picked up after me or had to get after me to get my chores done.”

“Well, yeah, I guess the thought crossed my mind that you deserved it a few times, but thinking it and doing it are two different things.”

“But the thing is I do deserve it, Shelly. I have a lot of bad habits. I know I do, but my mom was never good at enforcing rules and in the end she’d just do stuff for me, and when we moved in here, Linda was kind of the same way. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want people to always be mad at me for not doing things I knew I should have done, but I need someone to be strict with me until I can break those bad habits I got into.”

Shelly picked up the brush and weighed it in her hand. She could tell it was new, not an antique like her mom’s. It was rectangular and blocky. Very utilitarian, lacking the curved lines and rich finish of her mother’s brush, but it was the real deal; a solid wood brush that would pack a serious wallop if applied to a young ladies bare fanny.

“Have you ever been spanked with one of these,” Shelly asked, tapping the brush firmly against her palm.

“No, well I gave myself a few smacks with it when I bought it, but no, I haven’t really been spanked with it.”

“Well, when someone really does spank you with one of these, it burns like a blow torch. You better understand that.”

She bit her lower lip.

“I could have done without that picturesque description, but yes, I understand that it really hurts. That’s the point isn’t it? It hurts so bad that you’re afraid to have to do it again.”

“That’s the point all right,” Shelly admitted, “Or so I’m told.”

“Well, it straightened your butt out. It should work with me too.”

“I get what you’re saying, but I’ve only ever got spankings. I’ve never given one. I’ve never even seriously thought about it.”

“That was how it was with your mom though wasn’t it. You said she’d never given one before that first time with you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m my mom’s equal when it comes to stuff like that. She’s got such a strong will. I mean I have thought about that. Way down the road, if I had a daughter one day that needed it. You know, if I could really do it the way my mom does.”

“I think you can. You’ve sure got the scolding part down.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really! When you fold your arms over your chest and give me that look, I always get that fluttery feeling in my tummy, like when you know you’re really in trouble with someone. There’s been times when you were scolding me that I half thought you were going to spank me.”

“Fold my arms? I don’t do that! My mom does that!”

“You totally do that! Maybe you’re more like her than you know.”

“We’re the same age though. You wouldn’t feel funny about that?”

“We might be the same age, but you’re a lot more grown up than I am. You’re always so responsible about chores and homework and bills and getting up on time. I need to catch up.”

“And we’re talking about a real punishment, right? I mean, if you’re just looking for some kind of game where I play act being your mom you need to be honest with me, because that’s not the same thing at all!”

Cheyenne rolled her eyes.

“No, Shelly, I don’t want to play a game. I haven’t been screwing up with my mom; I’ve been screwing up with you. So, yes, I’m asking for a real punishment, from you.”

Shelly took a deep breath and combed her fingers through her hair while she processed the strange situation.

“Okay,” she said, finally, “and I think I get how you feel, but we’re just starting to really be friends and I know you might not think so now, but if I do this for real it’s really going to hurt and you might feel mad at me after.”

“I won’t, Shelly, I promise, not after I asked you too. I understand that it’s going to hurt and I’ll probably even cry, but when it’s over, I’ll feel better and so will you probably. You told me that too, remember? About how there were a lot of bad feelings between you and your mom over the times she grounded you, but after she finally spanked you it was like that all went away.”

She did remember. It was actually getting a little annoying having her own arguments turned back on her.

She sighed.

“I understand how you feel, Cheyenne. I guess it really is kind of the same as it was with mom and me, but you’re kind of dropping a lot on me here out of the blue. I’m going to need some time to think about this.”

“Its okay, Shelly, I understand. You don’t even have to decide today, but I really hope you’ll do it. Besides, if you don’t then you’ll still owe me and you know how I hate doing dishes.”

“Yeah, well right now I’m thinking you made some pretty convincing arguments, so you’d better just take your dirty dishes there to the sink, wash them and put them away instead of letting them pile up like you usually do.”

“Okay, okay,” Cheyenne said, picking up her plate and glass and heading for the sink. “God, you’re so strict.”

Shelly stood.

“I’ll be up in my room, thinking. I trust you’ll be around later, just incase I decide I need to have a little chat with you?”

“I have to finish a paper for history, so yeah, I’ll be up in my room too.”

“I promise I’ll let you know one way or the other before dinner time, okay?”

“Okay,” Cheyenne said.

Shelly turned and headed up the stairs.






Glancing at the alarm clock on her desk, Shelly saw that it was now 3:00 p. m. She’d spent the last two hours stretched out on her bed staring at the ceiling and weighing the potential pros and cons of spanking some responsibility into Cheyenne Kaylee Kurger’s chubby, bare butt. She had more or less decided to do it. After all, the girl had asked for it, she absolutely deserved it and if spanking her actually had the desired effect; well, that would be a huge plus.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Reaching over, she picked the big wood brush up from her desk and tapped it against her palm again.

She wasn’t worried about Cheyenne being able to take it physically. She was a rowdy sort of girl with a plump set of fanny cheeks and obviously she was no stranger to the stinging effects of a spanking.

It’s the emotional part I’m worried about, she thought. I wonder if she’s ready for that.

It was what she remembered most about that first spanking from her mother. That whole day while she had wrestled with the decision of whether or not to go through with it, she had fixated entirely on the physical aspect of the punishment. How bad would it hurt? Would she be stoic? Would she cry? Those were the questions that had filled her mind. She’d never thought to consider what an utterly humbling thing it would be, at the age of nineteen, to lay across her mother’s lap and have her pajama bottoms pulled down to be spanked like a naughty child. In the end it had been nothing like her fantasies and it hadn’t gotten any easier over the years. Every time she’d made that walk to the master bedroom with her mother she felt like a naughty little girl who was in big trouble and was about to be very sorry for it.

It’s what I needed though, wasn’t it? I really do feel better after those spankings and it really did make things better between me and mom. It’s why I still make that walk with her when I have to, isn’t it?

She picked up the brush and walked into the hall. A few seconds later, she stood outside Cheyenne’s door. Already, her heart was beating faster and she felt the butterflies in her stomach.

Is this how mom feels when she comes to get me for a spanking? she wondered. She always looks so cool and together. Well, I guess this is where I find out if I’m really my mom’s daughter.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself and let her mind focus on all the aggravation Cheyenne had caused her over the last few months.

I can do this. I’ve been team captain. I can be tough. I can motivate.

Once she was sure she had her game face set, she brought her hand up a gave a firm knock on the door.

“Come in,” Cheyenne called.

Shelly opened the door. Cheyenne was seated at her desk, typing away on her laptop. She was chewing on a piece of red liquorish, half of which was still hanging out of her mouth.
Her big green eyes quickly tracked from her face down to the big brush clutched in her right hand.

She bit the liquorish off and swallowed it in a gulp.

“So, you’re going to?” she asked.

“Yes,” Shelly said, firmly. “I really thought about this and I think you’re right. You deserve a good sound spanking, Cheyenne. I think you’ve probably had it coming for a long time and if it’s finally going to happen, it’s best that it comes from a friend.”

“Now?” she asked.

“That depends,” Shelly said. “I want to make sure we understand one another first. You asked me for a real spanking and where I come from that comes with a talking to and that talk hurts as bad as the spanking sometimes. I need to know if you’re really prepared for that, because you and I are definitely going to have a talk, Cheyenne Kaylee.”

Cheyenne bowed her head and nodded.

“I understand,” she said.

It was barely more than a whisper.

“I didn’t hear you?”

“Yes, I understand,” she said a little louder.

“This is the part where I usually start saying ma’am a lot. If I’m going to take the trouble to discipline you then I think you should show me some respect while I’m doing it.”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand,” she said.

“And you’re really prepared to go through with this? This is your last chance to change your mind.”

She nodded.

“Yes, ma’am. I know I deserve it,” she said with a bit more conviction.

“All right then, on your feet, young lady. I want to see you in my room, right now please!”

She got to her feet and started to shuffle toward the door.

“March,” Shelly said. “I don’t have all day to deal with your lazy butt.”

As Cheyenne passed into the hall she gave her a hurry up swat with the brush just because it seemed like the thing to do.

It got a squeal out of the little redhead and she scampered into Shelly’s room, rubbing the freshly stung cheek as she went.

“Sit,” Shelly said, pointing to her bed with the brush.

Cheyenne went to the bed and sat as directed. She was clad in a tee shirt with the school logo on it and faded jeans. Sitting there staring at her little, bare feet, she looked much younger than her twenty-one years. Her expression and body language bespoke of sincere trepidation and that was good. This wasn’t going to be the kind of spanking a girl looks forward to.

“Look at me, please,” Shelly said.

Slowly she brought her face up to Shelly’s.

“Do you understand why you’re in trouble with me?”

Chyenne nodded.

“Tell me.”

“For not getting my chores done on time and for leaving messes.”

“That’s right, Cheyenne. Maybe Linda didn’t mind picking up after you, but I do. I’m not your maid or your mother. We’re both grownups and we’re suppose to be sharing responsibility for this place. I do my part and I absolutely expect you to do yours. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I hope so. You said it yourself. These are bad habits and they need to stop. You’re twenty-one, it’s time you started acting like it.”

“I know.”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Shelly. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“I know you’re sorry, Cheyenne and I hope you understand that I’m not giving you this spanking because I’m angry. I am upset with you, but this spanking is to give you some motivation to get your lazy butt in gear around here and to help you remember to try harder going forward.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you understand what I expect from you?”

She gave a quick, nervous nod.

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

“I guess you know what happens now, don’t you!”

She nodded again.

“Well, as my mom likes to say, the sooner this starts the sooner it’ll be over and done with.”

She seated herself on her vanity table bench and crooked a finger at Cheyenne. With a heavy hearted sigh, she stood and walked over to her.

“And I think you know this is going to be a bare fanny lesson, miss. Skin those jeans down.”

Already sniffling a little she undid the snap and shoved the jeans down. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

“Let’s go,” Shelly said, patting her own denim clad thigh with the brush.

Apparently eager to get it over with, Cheyenne shuffled forward and flopped down over her lap.

Almost instinctively, she wrapped her right arm around Cheyenne’s legs and shoved her a little further over, so that the plump, bare cheeks were right up on her lap the way her mother always did it.

She took a few seconds then to decide how to proceed. It was the first time she’d ever had anyone in that position. Cheyenne was a short, curvy girl, just a little chubby for her size and her extra flesh all seemed to be in her boobs and fanny cheeks giving her that hourglass look.

You’re going to be glad for that padding in a minute, young lady.

She couldn’t help but smile a little as she looked down on those fleshy pillows. She decided right then that she was going to hand spank her first. It was probably, she supposed, a facet of her life long fascination with spanking, but she found it hard to imagine anyone not wanting to plant at least a few good smacks on a bottom so invitingly presented.

She gave the cheeks a little rub just to familiarize her self with the target. They felt much firmer than she’d imagined.

“Cheyenne, this is kind of unfamiliar territory for both of us, so I’m going to start this off with just my hand, but I think you’re probably going to be very well acquainted with that brush before we’re done here. I’m not saying that to be mean or to scare you. I just want you to understand that I mean to make this a spanking you won’t want to repeat any time soon. That’s the only way this is going to work, so you’d better prepare yourself. I really am doing this to help you Cheyenne. I hope you’ll remember that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cheyenne squeaked.

Shelly tightened her grip on the girl and prepared to get down to business.

“All right,” she said, “hang on tight, because he it comes!”

She didn’t go easy, they were good firm smacks right from the get go. She didn’t want the penitent young lady over her lap to have any doubt that this was a punishment. After all, she was lucky to be getting any hand spanks at all.

As she whaled away she had to admit it was an interesting and oddly satisfying experience watching those plump white pillows of flesh bounce and morph from white to pink to rosy red.

Cheyenne was stoic at the outset, but by the time she’d had twenty or so she was starting to squeal and squirm a little. In spite of the lack of residual color, she supposed the girl was still a little tender from Kevin’s efforts the night before and she’d let out an exceptionally high pitched squeak when a meaty smack would land on an especially sensitive spot. By fifty, Shelly was aware of some discomfort of her own.

Damn! she thought, shaking her hand out. I never thought giving spankings hurt this much. Mom must have a tough hand. It’s the calluses from all the tennis I bet.

“Do I have your attention, young lady?” she asked.

It was one of her mother’s favorites.

“YES, MA’AM!”

“Good. Tell me again why you’re getting a spanking.”

“Because I don’t get chores done on time.”

“And?” Shelly prompted.

“And --- messes --- I leave messes.”

“That’s right,” Shelly said. “I really don’t like having to clean up after you and while we’re on the subject, I especially don’t like having to clean up after your boyfriend. Do you understand me?”

“YES, MA’AM!”

“Good! This is for the messes.”

She launched into a new salvo of smacks and this time she got her little legs kicking. Cheyenne was a short girl and she had her far enough over her lap that she couldn’t get her feet on the floor at all. It was almost comical, watching the empty legs of her jeans flapping. She was starting to get a lot more vocal too.

After another fifty or so, Shelly knew her hand was shot.

“Cheyenne, look at me.”

The girl turned a very woeful face up to her. The eyes were watery and she was breathing hard. She clearly wasn’t enjoying her self and that was good, but they were still a long way form home.

“Are you learning your lesson?”

“I’ll do better, Shelly I promise.”

“And I believe you,” she said, “but this is the part where we make sure you remember that promise for a long, long time.”

She made a show of picking the brush up from the dressing table behind her.

“Oh, no,” Cheyenne whimpered.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Give me your hand.”

“No, please.”

She gave her sharp little smack on the back of her right thigh.

“Yeeeoooww!”

“Don’t you dare tell me no when I’m punishing you! Give me your hand!”

Cheyenne quickly thrust her right hand back. Shelly took it and pinned it against her hip.

“I’m sorry, Cheyenne, but this is really going to sting and you might not be able to keep your hand out of the way. If I’m holding it for you, it’s for your own good. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you ready?”

“Oh, god.”

“Well, ready of not,” Shelly said.

She briefly considered starting out easy and gradually turning up the heat, but she decided it would be better to get the thing over with quickly.

She started laying the brush on firm and fast. Cheyenne’s reaction was immediate and dramatic.

“OW! OH! YEEOOOWWW! PLEASE! OH!” she howled her little heart out.

Shelly showed her no mercy. Her kicking became so energetic that the jeans flew off. Her red hair whipped the carpet. It took all of her strength to keep her in place, but she did until she’d doled out a solid fifty smacks.

When she finally stopped, the girl was crying in earnest.

“Look at me,” Shelly commanded.

She did as ordered and it was quite clear that she’d felt ever smack.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am! I’ll do my chores and clean up. I’ll be good, I swear. Please!”

She was more or less babbling, but Shelly had been in the same state many times over her mother’s lap. She knew the girl would live and she’d remember the lesson too!

“Remember how I said my mom finishes these little lessons?”

“Oh, no. Please no!”

Shelly tightened her grip on Cheyenne’s hand and bang out ten scorchers right across her sit spots.

“YEEEEEOOOOWWWW!”

It was one continuous heart felt howl. The spanking completed, she went limp across her lap and balled her heart out.

Shelly set the brush down and gently cupped her hand to the scalded cheeks. She was shocked at how hot they were to the touch. She surveyed the damage while Cheyenne cried it out. She didn’t know how long it would last, but for now the girl had a seriously reddened fanny she could enjoy looking at in the mirror.

Finally, after a good minute of boo-hooing she started to regain her composure.

“Cheyenne, are you okay?”

“Yeah, at least I will be,” she said through her sniffles.

“Ready to get up?”

“Please.”

Shelly helped her off her lap on onto her knees. She quickly brought both hands back to massage her still smoldering fanny cheeks. She was really quite a sight with her nose running and red hair stuck to her tearstained face. She even had some slobber on her chin.

Plucking some tissues from a box on her vanity, Shelly brushed the hair away from her face and started drying her tears.

“Here,” she said, handing her some more tissues. “You better blow your nose.”

Cheyenne did as ordered. She was finally starting to look a little better.

“So, did that make you feel like you want to be a good girl?”

She nodded her head emphatically.

“I guess that was what your friends call a real Shelly spanking, right?”

“One hundred percent authentic,” Shelly assured her.

“Wow!” she said, shaking her head.

“How’d you like that brush?”

“Oh my god! It was like getting branded a hundred times with a hot iron.”

“I only gave you sixty in all, but you’re branded all right.”

“Red?” Cheyenne asked.

Shelly nodded.

“Like a fire engine.”

“I really am sorry, Shelly. I know I had it coming.”

“So, we’re okay?” Shelly asked. “Still friends?”

Cheyenne gave her a rueful little smile.

“Yeah, still friends.”

Shelly took her into her arms and gave her a warm hug.

“I’m sorry I had to be so strict,” she said, “but I meant what I said. I expect big improvement from you, young lady.”

“I will, Shelly, I promise.”

“Are you prepared to face up to another dose of the same medicine when you don’t?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think I’ll probably need the motivation.”

“Okay,” Shelly said. “And I want you to know that I include myself in that deal. If you come home and find the sink full of dishes I blew off washing or a big mess all over the living room, you can use that brush on my butt. Is that fair enough?”

Cheyenne nodded.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay then.”

“So, am I dismissed?”

“Yes, go lick your wounds, as my mom would say.”

Cheyenne picked her jeans up off the floor and headed for the door. Shelly smiled and shook her head as she watched the girl retreat with her bright red caboose on display.

Once the door was closed she put the brush away in her vanity and then, overcome buy a sudden feeling of fatigue, she flopped down on her bed.

She found it hard to believe she’d actually done it. The odd thing was that once she got started the whole thing seemed to come very naturally.

I guess I must have got some of those strict Hutton genes from grandma.






After a quick thirty minute nap, Shelly awoke refreshed and hungry. She started to head to the kitchen, but then she turned, walked back and knocked on Cheyenne’s door.

“Come in,” she called.

Shelly opened the door. Cheyenne was working on her paper again, only she’d moved the laptop to her bed so she could type while lying on her tummy. She’d also abandoned the jeans in favor of sweatpants. Her lips curved into a grin as she took in the scene.

“What?” Cheyenne asked. “And don’t look at me like the cat that just ate the canary. I said I was wrong and I took my medicine. You’re not supposed to gloat.”

“I’m not gloating,” Shelly assured her. “I was just thinking of all the times I had to do the same thing.”

“Good,” she said with a smirk. “I’m sure you deserved it.”

“I did,” Shelly admitted. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. Back home when you admit you were wrong and take your medicine you get ice cream after. I just happened to have picked some up at the store earlier. Are you interested?”

“Did you get Chunky Monkey?” she asked, her face finally brightening.

“Yes, I got Chunky Monkey.”

She was well aware it was Cheyenne’s favorite.

“Okay then,” she said, hopping up off the bed. She grabbed the pillow and tucked it under her arm.

“So, do you think you’ll have some color left over for tomorrow?” Shelly asked as they headed down stairs. “I wouldn’t want you to feel gypped.”

Cheyenne rolled her eyes.

“God bless, I’m going to have bruises down low where you whaled on my sit spots.”

“How are you going to explain that to young Kevin?”

“I’ll just tell him it’s from when he spanked me. I’ll act like I’m a little mad about it too. It never hurts for a girl to have a guilt trip in her poke.”

“You really are quite the little manipulator, aren’t you?”

“We got to work with the gifts the lord gives us, Shelly. Now you get the ice cream out and I’ll get some spoons.”

Shelly shook her head and reached for the freezer door.


The End.

[Spankologist35]

Just wanted to let you know that you are an excellent writer.

[nicejewishman]

Don't forget, you still owe us a story about grandma spanking mom.

[klara]

Absolutely great story. You are a wonderful writer.

[tighttightshortshorts]

Will there be more stories with these 2 charecters together. great story

[buttraider]

dear shelly, i truly loved your story. i wish i had a friend that cared that much about me and my actions and responsibilities. keep up your stories we love them

[nicejewishman]

when can we expect another shelly story

[hairbrushedhubby]

A really great story, well done. There should be a lot more hairbrush spanking stories covering all genres.

[chardt]

I don't know how soon I can get to it but I'll definitely write more Shelly stories.

[shimon]

in the next story will shelly be the spanker or spankee or both