****** Caught Smoking by Rachael ******
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Caught Smoking


My parents made the effort to insure that I grew up to be what they termed a
"good girl." My father was never into discipline, however, my mother made up
for his lack. To this end my mother often tattooed her displeasure in my
behavior on my bare ass.

She was constant when it came to meting out punishment. It was always done when
she thought it was due. If she had to my mother bent me over the kitchen
counter and swatted my ass with a metal spatula or whatever else she laid her
hands on. Her favorite device, though, was a heavy rubber strap she fashioned
out of a piece of truck bed lining. It was about four inches wide and pointed
at the tip.

My mother had no qualms about spanking me in public places or in front of other
people either. She could flip my skirt up and spank me several times before I
could get out of her grip. I've even received bare-assed spankings in front of
friends, relatives, and neighbors.

One summer afternoon I had my friend, Sarah, over to my house while my mother
was out shopping. Sarah and I were smoking and talking about boys and other
girl things. I didn't think we would have a problem with the smoke smell
because my mother smoked in the house. But, I guess we were having too much
fun. Both of us were not aware that my mother had arrived home. We were
laughing and carrying on when she walked into the front room. She caught us
both with a cigarette in our hand.

"And, what do you think you two little sluts are doing?" she bellowed.

We were busted and in big trouble because my mother had only one solution for
misbehaving children. I knew I was going to be spanked right then. "Sarah,
you'd better get home now," my mother cautioned, "I'll call your mother and
tell her what you've been doing here. Now go!"

"Rachael, go to the patio. I'll meet you there in a minute," my mother ordered
with a grim look on her face.

As I walked down the stairs to our enclosed patio, I unconsciously smoothed out
my skirt, realizing that this morning I had put on a pair of thong panties. My
panties would have little bearing on the spanking, I thought. Still, it would
have been better not to be wearing my raciest pair.

Suddenly, my mother appeared at my side. The first thing I noticed was the
strap in her hand. The thick, rubber strap that I had grown to hate over the
years. It was just the right length for a scorching blow to the backside in my
mother's hands. The tip of it left bright red marks on my butt whenever she
spanked me with it. I shuddered involuntarily and wished that I had gone to go
the bathroom before coming to the patio. My bladder suddenly seemed ready to
burst.

My mother appeared as a giant silhouette in my peripheral vision. "First of
all, that skirt comes off, Rachael," she bellowed.

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my skirt and pulled it down to my
ankles and stepped out of it. My top stopped at my waist, allowing a clear view
of my pink satin panties and the twin cheeks of bare ass they didn't cover.

"Rachael," my mother said harshly, "get those trashy panties off too."

I knew that I had better do what she said or else my punishment would be more
severe. In a second my fingers were hooked into the waistband of my panties. I
pulled them down, feeling the soft fabric catch in my rear crack for a second
before I could step out of them

"Now, Missy, bend over with your elbows on the table and stick your ass out.
You know how to do it, don't you?

As I waited I thought about the picture I presented. I was a budding thirteen
year old blonde girl with her perky breasts concealed under a thin cotton tank
top. Bent over the table like I was and perched up on three inch heels, my ass
and pussy were on display to anyone standing behind me. I involuntarily held my
knees together to minimize my exposure.

I flinched as I felt my mother's cold hands on my waist, grasping me firmly and
guiding me into the precise position she desired. My mother spread my feet
apart with her foot and leaned me forward a little more. I don't know why
people who give spankings have to have the ass in just a certain position. That
has to be a fetish unto itself.

My mother was speaking, but I had a hard time focusing on her words. The
phrases were running together into a mush. I heard her saying, "You're going to
get ten straps for smoking and ten more for those slutty panties."

I moaned at the sentence. I had never had more than ten before, and I was
always a wreck after the first five. I tried to draw strength from some inner
source, but when the first stroke landed on my bare ass, I forgot all about it
and let out a hair-curdling cry. The first one is always bad, landing, as it
does, on virgin skin, with none of the residual pain from previous blows to
lessen its impact.

My mother administered each blow in a steady rhythm, allowing a few seconds
between each blow. She strapped my ass from the top of my cheeks down to the
upper portion of my thighs. She was so skilled at using that strap that she
could maneuver the tip of it between the crack of my ass at will. If you don't
think that hurts you should have someone snap a rubber band against your
rosebud.

I think my mother lived during the wrong era of time. She would have flourished
in Medieval times as a dungeon master. She would have been great at whipping
the peasants for not paying their taxes. And, for sure, she could make my bare
ass sting with that strap. She flicked that strap against my ass in a way that
caused me to vibrate down to my toes.

By the tenth stroke I was bawling loudly and tears streamed down my cheeks as
the strap pounded against my naked ass cheeks. One thing I knew for sure was
that my mother was swinging that strap with all her strength. I actually think
she enjoyed the spankings she administered.

Hands clenched tightly in fists, I thought of nothing but the end. Finally it
came. It took me some time to realize, in fact, that the blows had ended and
gradually it came to my attention that my mother was speaking again.

"What, Rachael, are you waiting for more? Stand up!"

When I didn't move right away my Mother slapped the strap against my pussy.
"Get to your room right now, young lady, or I'll give you another thrashing."

I picked up my skirt and walked down the hallway to my bedroom with my ass
cheeks burning. I knew that I would never see my panties again. When I
slithered under the sheets my hand automatically went between my legs. My pussy
was already wet from being spanked. It always turned me on a little, anyway.

My fingers found my clit and I rubbed furiously, eager to take my mind off the
stinging on my ass. I came within a few minutes and kept masturbating until I
achieved a second orgasm. Masturbating twice within a few minutes was a new
record for me.

I didn't worry about starving to death. I had an ample supply of candy bars and
snacks hidden in my room. I didn't need to speak to my mother until the next
day and if she peeked into the room I always pretended to be asleep. All I
needed to make it through the night was my clit and fingers. After a spanking I
spent most of the night spanking my monkey and having orgasms.

The spankings didn't keep me from smoking. I still do that today and enjoy it
very much. I thank my mother for trying to bring me up right and for all the
orgasms she was responsible for during my teen years. She provided the stimulus
for many masturbation sessions.