4 comments/ 81126 views/ 5 favorites Cindy: Last Two Parental Spankings By: TruthAndLove Cindy: Last Two Parental Spankings This story is about the Cindy in my series of Cindy & Raj stories; but it takes place when she is eighteen, before she met Raj. Corporal Patterson Jake Patterson was just two years older than Cindy Johnson. They had occasionally been playmates as small children and they had attended the same grade school. But they lost touch in later years when a change in school district boundaries put them in different high schools. Technically, they were neighbors since the Johnson and Patterson properties bordered on each other. But that was misleading since the two homes were a third of a mile apart. Each property had several hundred acres of woods and meadows interlaced with bridal trails. Since the properties weren't fenced, the two families effectively shared this area. So it was something of a joke within their social circle that the new school district boundary passed between the two homes. Cindy remembered Jake as a happy carefree boy who didn't excel at anything, but seemed unbothered by that fact. In her memory he was always running around with a smile on his face and a perpetually mussed head of brown hair on his head. An insistent cowlick was forever waving above his head like his own personal battle flag. In his last year in high school Jake got mixed up with a gang of small time juvenile delinquents. They weren't truly criminals-in-the-making, more like upper class kids who were bored; but their antics escalated and a week following graduation they were arrested for car theft. An exasperated judge, who had given Jake probation on several prior offenses, this time gave him a stark choice: ten months in a state work farm or join the army. Jake chose the army. Two years later, Jake returned from a tour of duty in Iraq, with a Purple Heart for a serious but not debilitating wound, and Cindy's parents, James and Barbara, hosted a welcome home party for him at their house. Cindy was leaving for college in a week, so it was partly also a farewell party for her. Nearly 100 people from the Johnson and Patterson social circle attended. Jake, still in his corporal's uniform, sat on the arm of a chair chatting with middle-aged men about war and wounds. So many guests wanted to inspect the long shrapnel scar on his arm that finally left the sleeve on that side rolled up. As he sat there, Jake seemed to be in a state of relaxation that wasn't available to mere mortals. Like the most popular male movie stars, he seemed to have acquired a kind of permanent imperturbability. He was cool. He would always be cool. He was surrounded by an invisible force field that deflected anything the least bit disturbing, or at least held it at bay long enough for Jake to react calmly, thoughtfully, and confidently to it. Every now and then he would survey the room, catching the eye of old friends and schoolmates, and holding his gaze on them for a couple of seconds, in a silent greeting. Cindy noticed that he still had an irrepressible smile, but it wasn't the open-mouthed exuberant smile of his childhood. It was closed-mouth and it was bigger on one side than the other, not asymmetrical enough to make it a cynical smirk, but enough to make it a knowing smile. And he smiled with his eyes now as much as with his lips. He reminded Cindy of the movie star, George Clooney. When he spotted Cindy across the room, he locked eyes with her for a few seconds and raised the glass of whiskey he was holding in a salute of recognition. "Yes, I remember you," he seemed to be saying with that salute, "the little girl with the pale blond hair from the other side of the woods." But it seemed to Cindy when she looked into those smiling eyes that there was a bright light shining from deep inside them. The light seemed to say that inside Jake's head was the knowledge and experience of a much older man. "I know you. I know what you need and I know how to give it to you," the light said to Cindy, and she found herself blushing. The many teenage girls in attendance eyed Jake shyly, but hungrily, from a distance. The bolder ones found excuses to approach him and flirt, and he flirted back amiably. The girls giggled and pinkened at everything he said, even though he wasn't trying to be funny. When the flirting girl of the moment saw the scar, she would grow serious and stare it with eyes wide and a little glazed. One or two impulsively reached out to trace its length with a finger. "Did it hurt?" Cindy's friend Laurie asked him breathily when she took a turn flirting with the hero. "Naahh," he started to reply but then changed his mind, dropping his smile for the only time the whole evening, "... well yeah, it did ... like hell ... but I gave back more than I took. The bastard who threw the fragmentation grenade is now six feet under." As he said this Jake stared hard into Laurie's eyes and she stared back, oblivious of the people around her, wallowing in the sense of inner hardness Jake projected. Cindy, standing close enough to overhear while chatting with others, knew that Laurie was undoubtedly growing moist between her legs. But when the party broke up and the guests were all saying their goodbyes, it wasn't Laurie that he sought out, or the girls who had fingered his scar or any of the others that had flirted with him. It was Cindy. He approached her from the side and briefly took her left hand in his right. He didn't raise her hand, but left it hanging and Cindy felt him press a folded piece of paper into her palm and close her fingers over it. He said nothing as he did this and he immediately moved on to say goodbye to others without looking back. Later when the Pattersons and all the guests had gone home, she read the note. "Meet me by The Boulder in an hour," it read. The Boulder The Boulder, as the two families called it, was nearly eight feet high and nearly 40 feet in circumference and it sat in the woods about halfway between the Johnson and Patterson houses. Local legend said it was a meteorite. It had served as a fort and a mountain when the Patterson boys were growing up and as a princess's castle when Cindy and her friends had played there. In recent years, with all the children grown up, the area around The Boulder had become overgrown. One Saturday Cindy was wandering in the woods when she came upon the oldest Patterson boy, Jeff, then aged twenty-two, and his current girlfriend. They were lying naked in a small sunlight patch of grass between the trees and Jeff was humping the girl vigorously. Crouching in shade behind The Boulder about twenty feet away, Cindy peeked around the rock to spy on them, watching in fascination as they fucked and the girl moaned ever louder until, finally, she stiffened and seemed to go limp. Several seconds later, Jeff stiffened and collapsed on top of her. Cindy snuck quietly away, but ever since then, on weekend nights when she was alone and bored, she would walk through the woods to The Boulder and crouch behind it ... waiting. In this way, she frequently got a free sex show from Jeff or the middle brother Jason, a year older than Jake, and the girl friend of the evening. She witnessed oral sex, sixty-nine, anal sex, and intercourse in a wide variety of positions. She was probably the most knowledgeable virgin on the planet. Cindy never told her parents about her advanced sex education, but she confided in her girlfriends and it soon became a regular feature of sleepover parties at Cindy's house for the girls to sneak out to Cindy's outdoor sex classroom and wait in hiding, hoping for a show. They were often disappointed, but occasionally a Patterson and paramour did show up and unknowingly put on a demonstration. A few months earlier, not long after her eighteenth birthday, Cindy's parents had learned of the weekend voyeurism when Laurie, temporarily angry at Cindy for some triviality, squealed. Cindy's father was aghast at her breach of the Patterson family's privacy. Her mother, as always, was less concerned about the Pattersons than she was about the effect the whole thing would have on her own family's reputation. The Johnsons decided not to tell the Pattersons; that would needlessly poison a twenty year friendship. But Cindy was severely spanked. That evening, after Cindy's parents scolded her, they each took her by a hand and led her outside to the woods. "Your punishment will be outdoors," her father explained, "where there is at least some chance that you will be seen by others. This will help impress upon you the seriousness of spying on people." In truth, there were no other homes within sight of Cindy's, but even a slight possibility of being seen pantless was mortifying. She was ordered to drop her jeans and step out of them. When she tearfully did so, looking around the woods to see if perchance someone was walking the trails, both James and Barbara's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of their daughter's panties. They were bright red thongs that left both her buttocks completely bare. Neither parent had any idea that she owned such underwear and they stared in stunned silence for several seconds. "Good God, Cindy!" her mother finally exclaimed. "Please tell me you don't wear those to school on gym days." "You can have that conversation later," her father interrupted. "There is the matter at hand. Reach up and hold the tree branch above your head, Cindy, and keep your hands on it. No covering up." Cindy had her growth spurt in the previous year. She shot up to 5 feet, 7 inches. Since her hip and breast growth could not keep up, she became comparatively less curvy and people began to describe her as "coltish," a metaphor that seemed all the more apt because her straight pale blond hair fell to her mid back and in even the slightest breeze it waved behind her like the mane of a exuberant pony. It was this long, lanky eighteen year old who reached up with both hands and grabbed the tree branch about a foot and a half above her head. The wind blew her hair off to one side and caused her light summer top to billow up to just under her breasts. She was a tall, thin, long-legged pale statue, nearly naked, with a bright red thong mid-body advertising her sexual maturity and framing her bottom like a target. Her father had only used his hand to spank her in the past, save for a couple of times when he used a wooden ruler. He was so angry on this occasion, however, that he had picked up a springy switch from the ground. "You will receive fifty, very hard," James said, "and then you will tell me what you have learned about invading other people's privacy." He whipped her bottom three times very rapidly, and she stiffened and gasped out an "Oww." He resumed and gave her the remainder without stopping. The switch made a slight "shhhhh" sound as it moved through the air and a very quick "FIPT" sound when it landed on Cindy's skin. Her father spanked her so fast the two sounds seemed to merge into one. ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT By the eighth stroke, her eyes were watering and she was uttering a continuous series of "uh" sounds. They didn't correlate with the strokes because her father was switching faster than she could make the sound. ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT By the fifteenth stroke she was clenching and unclenching her buttocks as if she could squeeze the pain away. ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT By the twenty-second, she was crying continuously, and she was unconsciously rising up to tip toe on first one leg, and then the other, as if she were dancing a Samba. Her exclamations of pain had become longer and lower; "ohhhhh!" "owwwww!" "anh-anh-anh!" ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT By the thirtieth, the Samba had become the Twist as she blubbered incoherently. ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT By the fortieth she was begging to be let off the remainder, while she her long thin legs kicked and her boyish hips twisted and clenched in a shameless display for her parents. ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT ShhhhhFIPT After the final stroke, she let go the branch and rubbed her red bottom with both hands while continuing to blubber and twist luridly. When she finally calmed enough, she stammered out her lesson. "I- I- I have ... ow ... l-learned that it is v-v-very ... unh ... b-bad to spy on p-people. I will n-n-never ... ahh ... invade anyone's p-privacy ag-gain." She gingerly bent to pick up her jeans, but was interrupted by her mother's voice. "Not so fast, young lady. That was his lesson. Now I'm going to teach you one about risking your family's reputation." Grabbing Cindy by the wrist, Barbara pulled her to the nearest fallen tree trunk and ordered her to lay across it with her bottom higher than any other part of her. Barbara put her hands on the waistband of Cindy's thong and then paused to look at her husband. James immediately walked to the house and went inside. It was his practice never to see his daughter entirely bottomless. When he was gone, Barbara yanked the thong to Cindy's ankles and pulled it off her feet. Barbara then pulled off one of her own shoes and began to smack Cindy's bottom with the sole. Since her bottom was already super sensitive, it wasn't long before Cindy was once again blubbering and kicking salaciously. This time the dance was dirtier than ever because it included flashes of her privates and even her anus. When her arm tired, Barbara used the last few spanks to drive home the lesson word by word. You. Smack Will. Smack Never. Smack Embarrass. Smack Your. Smack Family. Smack Again. Smack When Cindy was finally allowed to walk stiffly inside, she soaked her bottom in a bath tub of cold water until bedtime. As the pain subsided and the bathwater warmed to room temperature, Cindy felt grateful that the Pattersons would never know about her spying. Then she found herself wondering what would happen if the Pattersons found out anyway. Before long this led her to imagine what it would be like if it had been the two older Patterson brothers that she had spied on, Jeff and Jason, who had given her the outdoor spanking. In her imagination, Jeff had held her against his chest while Jason pulled down her pants revealing her red thong. It was Jason who switched her 50 times. She struggled but Jeff's arms where like steel and his chest like stone. Then the brothers in her daydream traded places. Jason held her while Jeff pulled off the thongs and spanked her with a shoe on her bare behind while she squirmed and twisted. It was Jeff's voice that chanted with the final spanks. You. Will. Never. Spy. On. Your. Neighbors. Again. When the imaginary Jeff reached the word "Again," the real life Cindy let out an audible "ohhh" and she realized that both her hands were under water. One set of fingertips was gently stroking her sensitive bottom. The other set was stroking her clitoral hood. She put a washcloth in her mouth to muffle her voice and then continued to masturbate until she was bucking her hips up and down in the tub, creating gale force waves on the water's surface. Finally she climaxed more powerfully than she ever had in her young life. It wasn't so much the imagined spanking that turned her on, Cindy realized when she thought about it later. It was the strength of their arms and chests. It was that she couldn't get away. It was the knowledge that they could do whatever they wanted to her, but also knowing that they would not give her any more than she deserved. It was knowing they had control over her but also that they had scruples and would not do anything to seriously endanger or harm her. It was knowing that if another man or, for that matter, a fox, came through the woods, they would have suspended the spanking and protected her from the intruder. Within the circle made by male Patterson arms around her, they could punish her, but that circle kept everything outside it at bay. That was what she found so arousing. But all that was months before. Tonight it was the youngest Patterson, Jake, who had slipped her the note. The Rendevous After helping her mother with the cleanup after Jake's welcoming home party, Cindy changed into khakis and a tight white ribbed tank top which she pulled on over her braless breasts. She snuck out the back and walked the quarter mile to The Boulder. Jake arrived in uniform although the shirt was now untucked and he'd changed to hiking shoes. His hair was mussed, too; but the unkempt look only made him seem even cooler and it did not mitigate in the slightest the sense of inner hardness he projected. They said nothing as they came together. Jake put one arm around her waist and the palm of the other hand on her cheek. With his thumb under her chin, he tipped her face up to his. You couldn't call it a harsh move, but it wasn't really gentle either. It was insistent, uncompromising, and conveyed the message that he had decided to kiss her and she was going to obey, like it or not. She liked. The moment he put his mouth on hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tip toe to kiss him back. When they broke the embrace, Jake put his hands on her flanks and slid them up taking the tank top up with them. He pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. He backed her up against The Boulder and kissed her again. She couldn't decide which was harder, the rock pressing against her back or the uniformed chest mashing her breasts. With two long kisses he made her wetter than she'd ever been. Her nipples hardened and felt like they were trying to tear through the tank top. She knew at that moment that, while she would make an effort to resist him coyly, in the end she'd do anything he wanted if he pressed her even a little. She'd give him every orifice she had. Any perversion he imagined was his for the asking. And if he'd wanted her to rob banks or turn tricks for him, she'd do that too. She could refuse him nothing. She could not imagine any woman refusing him anything. It wasn't just his physical strength; it was his permanent cool, his knowing half smile, and his smiling eyes with their inner light. Jake led her by the hand to the grassy spot where his brothers had had their way with so many other girls. He took off his shoes and socks and then unbuttoned his uniform shirt and shrugged it off. Cindy's eyes flashed at the sight of his chest and she impulsively put both hands on it, tracing his pecks with her finger tips. She moved down to his abs caressing his muscles, then went back up and down again, this time with her palms. When she reached his waist, she stared for a moment at the dark shadow in the slight gap between his pants and his body. Not entirely aware of what she was doing, she dropped to her knees, opened his pants, and pulled them down to his shins. She stared for a moment at his army-issue light green boxers, then looked up at him. He looked down at her, not with lust, but with a look like a concerned doctor might give to a panicky patient who was describing her symptoms. "It's alright," his eyes seemed to say, "I understand what you want to do right now and you go right ahead and do it. It's OK. I'll take care of everything." His hands stroked her face, neck, and shoulders. Cindy looked down again to the green boxers, took the hem between thumb and forefinger of each hand and pulled them down to meet his pants. Jake stepped out of them and kicked them aside, but Cindy was not aware of this because she was staring at his semi-hard penis. It wasn't icky like the flaccid ones in her biology book or even slightly comical like the erect ones she'd seen on Jake's two older brothers. It had a kind of beauty. Not the beauty of something new and shiny and symmetrical. It was more like the beauty of antique wood or an old warn leather wallet. Its beauty was the cumulative effect of all its little imperfections. But mostly it was beautiful because it was his. In Cindy's mind, it had become the center of his knowing smile, and his inner light that seemed to know all her desires and how to fulfill them. Cindy: Last Two Parental Spankings Cindy had never given a blow job before; but, almost mesmerized by this beautiful penis, she leaned forward and gave it a little kiss on the tip. Then she did it again, this time making a kissing smack sound loud enough for Jake to hear. With her left hand, she held the penis up to his belly so she could see his scrotal sac. She kissed this, too; and then working entirely on instinct, she licked it. She did not use just the tip of her tongue. Having grown up with barn cats, Cindy knew what real licking was like. She licked with the entire top surface of her tongue, slathering her saliva over nearly the whole front surface of his scrotum. Then she held it up with her right thumb and index finger so she could get at the underside, which she also covered in one long wide lick. Cindy could not have explained why she felt the urge to do this. It was partly to please Jake, of course, but it was more complicated than that. She wanted to do it for herself: she wanted to lavish attention on his beautiful sex organs in this uninhibited, almost shameful, way. Just knowing that she was on her knees making herself a submissive tool for his pleasure, turned her on. She continued licking in this way, stopping occasionally to work up more spit in her mouth, until she had thoroughly washed every square millimeter of his balls several times over. Then she tried to take the whole of it into her mouth but it was too big, so she settled for sucking alternately on each gonad. This put her nose almost into the cleft between his penis and sac and she experienced a smell that she had never known before but which she instinctively dubbed "man" in her mind. She didn't know why, but the man smell made her feel weak, almost helpless. "It makes me," she thought, "feel ... oh, what's the word ... obedient. Yes, Obedient! It makes me feel like submitting, like lying back and spreading my legs and letting this man do whatever he wants with me." As she continued, her sucking made little smacking sounds and she unconsciously murmured "mmmmmmmm" like a starving man eating a steak dinner as she ran her tongue around the gonad in her mouth. When she finished with the balls, she let the penis drop to the front again and began to kiss it all over. With each kiss, she made a little smacking noise. This wasn't a side effect of the kisses: she had to make a conscious effort to produce the sound. She did it deliberately because she thought it would please Jake. When she'd finished with the top, she lifted it and kissed down the length of the underside from tip to balls, then she moved it to the side and kissed along one side back to the tip and, finally, down the other side till she reached his hairy crotch. She kissed and licked here, too, until all his pubic hairs had been thoroughly shampooed. Then she returned her attention to the now erect penis. She gave it the same complete bath she'd given his balls, again using the whole top surface of her tongue, not just the tip. When she'd licked it up and down several times, she felt an urge to put it inside her mouth. Holding it to one side with her left hand, she placed her wide open mouth around one side of it at the base as though she were eating a hot dog sideways. It was too big for her to get her mouth all the way around, but her mouth covered most of the top and bottom surfaces as well as the side. While holding it in her mouth this way, she whipped her tongue rapidly back and forth along the part in her mouth. Then, after working up some more saliva, she slowly slid her mouth along the side of the penis from the base to the tip, thoroughly coating it in spit and licking madly each inch of penis as it slid through her mouth. When she reached the tip, she moved the penis to the other side and repeated the mouth-slide along the other flank of Jake's prick. Then she gave the underside the same treatment and, finally, the top surface. This time when she reached the tip, she sucked the knob into her mouth and began to alternately suck on it and lick it. As she did this, she looked up at Jake to see what techniques he seemed to enjoy. Jake helped out the silent communication by leaning forward and putting his hands on her. Not on her head as if it were some masturbatory toy. Rather he gently gripped her upper arms, just below the shoulders. Using his fingertips and thumb, he would press one way or another to signal when she should move her head forward or back. He would grip hard to signal when she did something wrong and she would stop and try something else. When he wanted her to work faster or slower he would tap his fingers on her arm in the rhythm he desired. Sucking seemed to please him more than licking, so she sucked harder and harder, as if she was trying to suck a thick mild shake through a straw. Audible sucking noises came from her mouth as her cheek muscles visibly contracted around Jake's prick with each suck. When her lips grew tired, she concentrated on trying to get more of him into her mouth. It took some practice, but after a few faltering, choking attempts she was able to get nearly three inches in. She began to bob her head forward and back, sliding her lips along the shaft and licking its undersurface. Her naked breasts bounced and shook with each bob. To give herself some leverage she put her hands on his buttocks to grip them. His buns were rock hard. After about two minutes of bobbing, she could tell by his noises and the look on his face that he was near climax. Instinctively, she put both hands behind her to the small of her back and tilted her head up to look up at him submissively, waiting for his orgasm while she held his penis in her mouth. At that moment he seemed to her to be a magnificent muscled stallion. He looked back at her with bright but heavy-lidded eyes and pulled her ever so slightly forward by her upper arms as he pushed himself a bit further into her mouth. She understood that this signal meant that he wanted her to swallow his sperm. "I was going to do that anyway," she thought. Seconds later, he gasped and spurted into her. Still looking up at him with her hands behind her back, she swallowed big twice, then sucked on his knob trying to get every last drop until he gently pushed back on her arms to signal her to stop. Jake lay down in the grass breathing hard, and she busied herself by taking off her pants, panties and sandals, all of which she flung into the darkness of the night. She knelt beside him and ran her hands over his trunk, shoulders, arms, hips, and legs, reveling in the sheer hardness of the man. At one point, she leaned down to his crotch to kiss his pubis so that she could smell his "man smell" again. When she did, she felt an urge to lay across his lap and ask him to spank her just as, in her imagination, his two older brothers had done. But she refrained because so far tonight she hand Jake had not actually spoken aloud to each other and she wanted to see how long they could go without words. After a few minutes, Jake grew hard again and he knelt up beside her and pushed gently on her shoulders. Guided by his hands, she lay down. "I'll do anything he asks," Cindy thought to herself, "absolutely anything." As it happened, he did not have a chance to ask her for much before they were interrupted. Cindy was lying naked on her back, legs apart and knees up on the very spot where so many previous Patterson conquests had lain in the same position. Jake was kneeling between her thighs, his penis at the ready, and was seconds away from entering her. Something crashed through the bushes at just that moment and Cindy sat up in a bolt, too breathless with surprise to scream. Jake, on the other hand, was still permanently imperturbable and he straightened slowly to rest on his haunches and look behind him in the direction of the noise. In the darkness, Cindy saw over his shoulder that the intruder was too big to be a fox and it walked on two legs. For a brief heart-stopping moment, Cindy thought the black bears had returned to these woods after an absence of 100 years; but then the creature spoke. "Jake?" it was his mother's voice. "Jake, what are you doing out here by yourself on your first night home? We were all worried and- Oh! ... Oh, my God ... Oh I see ... oh my dear." Now Cindy screamed, "Mrs. Patterson!" These were the first words she had spoken out loud since the party. She threw one arm over her breasts and a hand over her glistening crotch, and began looking around frantically for where her clothes had been tossed. Even on hearing his mother's voice behind him, Jake did not lose his cool. With an annoyed look on his face, he grabbed his own uniform shirt, draped it around Cindy, and began to button it. Since the only light was from the three-quarter moon, and his back was to his mother and he was resting on his haunches she could not see much of him that she shouldn't see. "Its not what it looks like, Mrs. Patterson," Cindy repeated a cliché she'd heard in a thousand bad TV shows and movies. Jake chuckled softly at this and Cindy immediately realized the absurdity of it. The shirt was large enough that it served as a kind of miniskirt dress for Cindy and she stood up and began walking around the area looking in the dark for her khakis and underpants. When she stood, the moonlight caught her long straight blond hair. To a neighbor who had known her since birth, she was unmistakable. "Cindy Johnson!" Jake's mother exclaimed in surprise. "I thought it was that tramp Laurie or one of those girls in that punk band. I would never have thought that you ... Barbara's and James's daughter ... I always thought you were such a nice girl-" "Mom," Jake interrupted firmly and calmly but not loudly, "Go back to the house ... now." These were the first words he had spoken out loud since the party. At that moment, Cindy, while squatting and feeling around ground in the dark, felt the zipper and fly button of a pair of an empty pants. She didn't wait to see if Mrs. Patterson would obey her son. Cindy simply grabbed the pants and ran barefoot down the trail leading to her house, leaving her socks, shoes, panties, and tank top behind. Corporal Cindy After sprinting nearly a quarter mile, she stopped to put on the pants shortly before entering her back yard. As soon as she stepped into them, she realized they were Jake's. This meant she had left all her own clothes behind. It also meant, Cindy realized, that Jake would have to go home in only his shoes, socks, and underwear, since he could never fit into her pants. But Cindy was not worried about anyone as cool as Jake. She knew he would take this in stride, like he took everything else since his return from battle. He would probably make some effort to sneak in the back door and up the back steps, more to spare his mother embarrassment than himself. For someone who has had a grenade blow up beside him, being seen in your underwear by your mother, father, and brothers, or, for that matter, even complete strangers, wasn't any great trauma. The pants were too big, but she could get them to stay up by treating the army-issue canvas belt as a rope and tying it tight. Even then she had to roll up the pant legs several times over to keep from tripping over them. Cindy then waited on an old swing set in her backyard for thirty minutes until the light in the living room went out and the light in her parent's bedroom went on. After five minutes more, the bedroom light went out. Cindy then figured she could sneak in the back and up the stairs to her room without being seen. Had it been a heterosexual man waiting for Cindy in the kitchen when she entered by the back screen door, she would have looked sexy as hell, or adorable, or both: a lanky barefoot blond in an oversized corporal's uniform. But it wasn't a heterosexual man waiting for her. It was her mother, Barbara. Barbara snapped on the light when Cindy had tiptoed halfway across the kitchen, and Cindy froze in surprise. "Mom!" she said guiltily when she caught her breath, "you're, you're, ... still up!" Barbara did not reply. She simply stood there, glaring, in her bathrobe and slippers, with her arms folded imperiously over her chest, like a queen confronting a disobedient servant. She slowly looked Corporal Cindy up and down, taking in the uniform which she immediately recognized as Jake's, and the bare feet. "Well, well, well," she said sardonically, "I didn't know you'd enlisted." "It's not what it looks like, Mom," Cindy gamely tried the same cliché that she'd given Mrs. Patterson. It didn't work any better this time than it had earlier. "Oh, well, of course," said Barbara with exaggerated sarcasm, "there are so many perfectly reasonable explanations for why a girl your age would be sneaking into her own home in the dead of night wearing a neighboring man's clothes." Cindy just hung her head. "Well," said Barbara with the overly controlled tone that always signaled to Cindy that her mother was enraged, "this explains the incoherent phone call I got from Betty Patterson about 25 minutes ago. She was ranting about Jake and you and good girls who become tramps. Then she hung up on me. When I couldn't find you in your room, I was worried. I put on my robe because I was going to drive to the Pattersons to see if you were there. But when I came in here to get the keys off the hook, I saw you on the swing. I've been waiting here ever since." Again, Cindy said nothing. After a few seconds of silence, Barbara ordered Cindy to follow her to the old nursery room. "Why the nursery room?" asked Cindy. "Because it's the room farthest from our bedroom and I don't want your father to hear your punishment," Barbara explained. "He is never to know of what happened tonight. Do you understand?" "Yes," said Cindy as started for the door to the hallway. As she walked past her mother she realized that her breasts were shaking visibly under the uniform. Her mother, too, saw it and the realization that her daughter was braless caused her to compress her lips in anger and turn a bit purple. Arriving in the room that had been Cindy's nursery eighteen years before and her playroom during her girlhood, Barbara ordered Cindy to strip off the uniform, hand it over, and then kneel on the cot where she had once taken her naps. Facing her mother, Cindy pulled the shirt over her head without bothering to unbutton it. When she pulled down the pants, her mother's eyes grew big at the discovery that Cindy wasn't wearing underpants. Barbara's face turned an even darker purple. "She can't possibly get any angrier," Cindy thought. But Cindy was wrong. When Cindy handed over the uniform, her mother turned around to hide it in a old toy box. ("So your father won't see it until I get a chance to return it tomorrow," she explained.) While her mother was doing this, Cindy turned her own back on her mother to kneel on the cot. She bent forward at the hips to rest her head and arms on the familiar old quilt with Winnie the Pooh characters on it. Her bum pointed up and back. In the few months that had gone by since her outdoor spanking, Cindy's upward growth had stopped and her breasts and hips had a chance to catch up. As a result, the breasts that rested upside down on the cot that night were full and round, so was the butt she stuck up into the air, and no one anymore would call her hips "boyish." Cindy heard her mother shut the toy box. But for a long minute her mother said nothing and did nothing. Curious, Cindy looked back over her shoulder past the naked flank of her own hip to see that her mother had turned around from the toy box and was now facing her once again, staring at her bare bottom, her face a deeper purple than ever. She was so angry, Cindy felt real fear. She could see her mother's jaw working as she ground her teeth. "What is Mom seeing on my butt?" Cindy wondered, and she put both hands back to feel her bum. There was something stuck on it and Cindy picked it off and looked at it. It was a blade of grass. She felt all over her bottom and picked several more blades off. Then she felt the back of her thighs. "No," her mother interrupted her searching. The overly controlled voice was back and now it was so controlled it was almost zombie-like. "There's none on the backs of your legs, Cindy," she continued. "There's grass on the bottom of your feet and on your ass and your back and in the hair on the back of your head. But there's none on the back of your legs. I wish I could say this pattern was puzzling, but I understand it all too well." Cindy, too, understood how she'd gotten that pattern of grass on her body. She considered telling her mother that Jake had not actually penetrated her, but the pattern of grass revealed to her mother what Cindy's intentions had been and that was all that would really matter to her mother. Barbara reopened the toy box and furiously rummaged for a suitable spanking tool. The best she could come up with was an old plastic baby doll missing its clothes and one arm. (Two years later when she learned a little Freud in a psychology class, Cindy realized that old Sigmund would have been fascinated at the symbolism of a mother spanking a sexually reckless daughter with one of the daughter's old baby dolls.) Barbara stepped up to the cot and stood to one side of Cindy's protruding ass. "I want you to know that I'm not spanking you for having glands, Cindy," she explained as her zombie voice became a tiny bit more human. Cindy looked back at her as she continued. "Sexuality isn't something to be ashamed of, and I understand the effect a man like Jake can have. He reminds me a lot of your father." "But," her mother continued, "I'm spanking you for the irresponsible way that you expressed your sexuality. If you had to let yourself be seduced in a matter of minutes by a boy you've hardly known for several years, you should at least have done it behind locked doors. You put your own and your family's reputation at risk. Do you realize how lucky it is that Betty Patterson found you and not Jake's father or brothers? She has no more desire than you to be a figure in a gossipy story. She'll keep the secret. But his father and either brother would have bragged all over town how Jake nailed the Johnson girl his first night back from the army." With that, Barbara swung the doll, which she was holding by one leg, out to the side and then smacked its nearly flat plastic back against Cindy's proffered bum. Smack! "Oww!" Cindy said, jerking her head up at the sting. Barbara continued the spanking without giving Cindy any breaks. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Barbara was relentless and in less than a minute, Cindy was sniffling and her hips were jerking in response to each spank. Her fists gripped the quilt. Smack! Smack! Smack! By the end of the second minute, Cindy was crying openly and twisting. "Aaaaahhh!" she wailed. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Halfway through the third minute Cindy was kicking back spasmodically and thrashing her head from side to side on the quilt. Her wails had become louder and longer and they seemed to rise and fall in pitch as though she were singing an unholy ode to pain from some long forgotten medieval self-flagellation cult. "Unnnoooowwwwweeee!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Fearful that she would wake her father, Cindy stuffed a handful of the quilt in her mouth as a muffle. Clamping down on a picture of Winnie, she now sounded as if she were only humming the ode to pain. "Mmmmmnnnnnrrrrrrr!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! At the five minute mark, Cindy could see that her mother showed no signs of weakening and she removed the quilt from her mouth to beg, between her sobs, that her mother relent. Cindy: Last Two Parental Spankings Smack! Smack! Smack! Finally, the doll broke where the leg attached to the trunk. Most of the doll went flying across the room and Barbara was left holding only the leg. Her anger still not sated, she threw down the doll leg, stepped a bit closer to Cindy and began a furious hand-spanking with her right hand while her left arm held her wildly gyrating daughter around the waist. Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Cindy could no longer distinguish the individual spanks. Her bottom was one continuous searing sting. She stuffed Winnie back in her mouth and moaned continuously through the muffle as her mother continued the rain of spanks. Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Finally, after a full two minutes of this, Barbara paused in exhaustion. "Now repeat after me, Cindy," she ordered. "I!" Spank "I-I-I," responded Cindy sobbing. "Will!" Spank "W-Will" "Not!" Spank "Not" "Risk!" Spank "R-Risk" "My!" Spank "My" "Family's!" Spank "F-Famil-ly's" "Rep" Spank "u" Spank "ta" Spank "tion" Spank "Repu ... sob ... tation" "Ever" Spank "Ev- ah- er" "Again" Spank "Again" Barbara sat down exhausted at the head of the cot as Cindy rolled onto her flank and rubbed her bottom madly. Tears streamed down her face and her butt muscles continued to clench spasmodically for several more seconds. Her breasts shook and shimmied with the vigor of her rubbing. Six days later Cindy was on her way to college, certain that her spanking days were behind her forever.