Spanking & Chastening: Curbed

Morning came too soon and I awoke laying on my back despite having gone to sleep on my stomach. It took a moment, but as I rolled myself out of bed, my bottom reminded me it was there and still tender. Glancing around the room, I rubbed the remnants of sleep from my eyes and realized although I was in my old bedroom, none of my things were with me. The robe I customarily kept draped over my foot board was most likely still laying on my bathroom counter where I had left it the previous morning. Mom had not even brought the suitcase she had packed for me, into my room. All I had was about half of my outfit from the previous day and the shoes and stocking weren't going to do a whole lot for my modesty.

It was early enough, I decided to make a dash down the hall to the bathroom and take a shower, that way allowing myself a towel to wrap around my body until such time as Mom or Dad saw fit to let me get dressed for work. How I was going to get there was a bit of a mystery as well, considering my car was still parked in its slot at the apartment, but that was a problem for later. I opened my bedroom door and peeked out into the hallway to make sure no one was around, although why I really cared is beyond me. Upon seeing the path was clear, I stepped into the hall and ran to the bathroom door.

"Allison," Mom said in a low hiss, exiting her own bedroom at the other end of the hall. I stopped dead in my tracks, one hand on the doorknob and the other snaking across my front as if it could provide any privacy. Mom closed the door behind her and walked to the top of the stairs, about half the distance between us, before continuing, "How many times have I told you not to run in the house?"

"Sorry Mom," I said sheepishly.

"You know there was a time when you behaved like a perfect angel for days after a spanking," Mom said, shaking her head at me. "I really don't know what's got into you the past few months."

"I'm not a little kid anymore," I said by way of defending myself.

"No, you're not," She said, "You are a grown woman who behaves so poorly her employer sees the need to spank her bare bottom."

I closed my eyes, surrendering, because it was a fight I was never going to win. Even if I could explain everything, she would fail to see my side. There was no point in even trying to explain myself under such conditions, instead I shrugged and said, "I'm sorry Mom."

She frowned and shook her head at me, making it clear she either did not believe me to be sincere or did not care. She said, "Well go on. Use the bathroom, I'll wait."

I forgot to breathe while I contemplated her statement and its meaning as it applied to me. Living under my parents' rules for most of my life had not really seemed all that bad until I moved out and no longer had them, but being back home, dragged as I was, they suddenly felt oppressive, compounded by the fact I had managed to break one of Mom's cardinal rules before I had even been back twenty-four hours. The stern glint in Mom's eye told me she intended to remind of the fact.

"I was going to shower," I said, hoping Mom would show a little mercy and drop the matter.

"That's fine. Just make it quick and come straight down to the kitchen when you're done," She said.

"Yes, Mom," I said, opening the bathroom door. I was not quite sure if the matter was dropped or not, being ordered down to breakfast was ambiguous at best, but I was hopeful when Mom turned away and started down the stairs.

"Oh and bring the bath brush with you and make sure you hang your towel up good and proper," She said with a quick glance back over her shoulder, squashing my only two hopes for the morning; Covering myself with a towel and avoiding another spanking.

My shower lacked its usual rejuvenating qualities, the water drops on my buttocks accentuating tenderness rather than washing away tension. Drying myself off I was painfully aware failing to do an adequate job would only increase the relative severity of my impending punishment but doing anything more than dabbing at the water droplets on my buttocks felt a bit like rubbing them with sandpaper. In short, life sucked and was about to suck a whole lot more as I hung my towel up and grabbed the bath brush wondering what Mom would do if it miraculously disappeared. If only I was brave enough to find out.

Funny probably is not the best way to describe it, but in the past I always blushed with embarrassment when I came down to the kitchen to see my skirt and possibly other garments lying over the back of my breakfast chair and yet this time, seeing my blazer, skirt and panties lying there I almost laughed. Mom obviously went to a bit of trouble to lay them out there for me to see, but if she expected the sight to embarrass me she had never stood naked in her kitchen with a bath brush in her hand.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Mom said, glancing at me from the stove. "Go ahead and bend over the table and you can lay the brush down next to you."

With a sigh that elicited a glare from Mom I complied and bent myself over the table, grasping the far edge. I hoped I would be lucky enough to avoid seeing my Dad until after Mom's spanking was over and I was allowed to dress for work. Other than the cell picture, it had been years since he had seen me totally naked. Realizing it was totally out of my hands, I concentrated on the sounds and smells of coffee brewing, eggs scrambling, and bacon frying while I waited. Oppressive rules aside, Mom's breakfast was the one thing I missed since moving out.

After a couple of minutes fiddling at the stove, Mom walked over to the table, took the brush in her hand and immediately slapped it against my butt. The loud clap of impact made me tighten my grip on the table edge and just in time as the stinging pain coursed its way through my body bringing tears to my eyes and a gasp from my throat. Mom was always the no nonsense sort when it came to spanking and even though hers fell a little short of the severity of Dad's, they were still an event to be avoided if at all possible. As quickly as she delivered the first swat, she lifted the brush again and brought it crashing down on the opposite buttock keeping pace from there, alternating left to right and carefully covering all the spank-able surface of my backside in an ever expanding, circular pattern.

I squirmed and kicked as the heat and sting built, consuming my entire existence within the raging inferno. Hot tears ran down my cheeks while the bath brush continued to rain down spanks on my naked butt. I held myself down, the table edge biting into my palms while I fought the impulse to sob in remorse and beg for mercy. Jerking and sniffling at every swat, I hoped each would be the last only to feel another on its heels, repeating into infinity or so it began to seem. Finally, Mom stopped and laid the brush to rest on my naked back.

"Are you going to run in my house again?" She asked.

"No, Mom," I replied, sniffling and wiping away tears.

"That's what you said last time and yet here we are again. Do you remember what I told you would happen the next time?" Mom said.

The memory came rushing back after a long moment of blankness. Cherise had the spent the night. We had a long weekend ahead of us and plans for going out to the desert as a day trip escaping from our parents and the doldrums of responsible college life. We had risen early in the morning, too early to leave because I needed my allowance from Dad, he actually still gave me money then, and he was still in bed asleep, but we were all ready to go. Our bags were packed, the car was loaded and boredom got the best of us, which was where the trouble began.

We started going through some old junk in my closet and Cherise found the pair of pink water guns we used to play with when were much younger. They instantly brought to life old memories of make believe games like pretending to be police officers, adventurers and even occasionally, outlaws or the like, while running around the backyard squirting anything and everything that moved. Stephen often seemed to get in the line of fire although that was never a good choice, but then that's another story.

Anyway, Cherise had the brilliant idea to fill the old toys up with water and bring them with us to help keep cool on our outing. It seemed brilliant at the time at least. Then Cherise started squirting me and laughing like we were those two little girls again. One squirt led to another and soon we were running up the hall and down the stairs and around the dining room table, all the while squirting and laughing away, completely disregarding any concept of courtesy for my sleeping parents, not to mention the house rules. Then I ran flat into Mom, nearly toppling us both over in the process while I got a slow motion look at the disapproval written plainly on her face.

Suddenly things were not so funny as our day trip was cancelled and Cherise was sent home after Mom spent a half hour on the phone with her parents. Cherise will never tell, but I just know she got a hiding of her own that day. Mom walloped me good with one of her cooking spoons, right over the kitchen table that time too as I recall and then just before letting me up she made her little speech and threat.

She said, "You're old enough to know by now that running is an outdoor not an indoor activity. I've lost count how many times we've done this and I'm not going to keep messing around with you. So, if I catch you running in the house again I promise you're going to regret it because after I spank you, I'll send you out to run sprints on the side of the house until I'm certain you've learned where to run and where not to run. And just so we're clear, you're butt will be just as bare outside as it is inside for the spanking. Understood?"

That was a few years ago and right then, before I even stood up, I decided I was not going to ever risk the possibility of Mom following through on her threat. If only I had remember all that this morning when I contemplated the short walk from my bedroom to the bathroom, but it was of course too late for that. I looked back up at Mom from over my shoulder silently hoping she did not intend to actually follow through when it had been so long ago.

"Well do you?" She asked.

"That was ages ago," I said, hating the whining in my voice.

"Do you remember?" Mom said, growing more impatient by the second.

"Yes," I said, swallowing hard.

"Good," Mom said with a touch of iron will in her tone, "Because that's exactly what's going to happen now."

"But—

Mom said, "This isn't a discussion young lady. You knew the rules, you knew the consequences, and now you going to have to deal with them. If you don't like it, then maybe next time you'll decide to follow the rules."

I said, "I'm sorry Mom, it won't happen again. Please, just don't make me—

"It's not going to happen again because I'm not going to let you off this time," Mom said, her hands resting on her hips with the bath brush dangling on her side and not a touch of sympathy in her stern voice, "Now you're going to pick yourself up and get your little red hiney out to the side of the house and start running or I'm going to go and get your father's belt. The choice is yours."

"But I'm naked," I said, as if the fact had somehow escaped her notice.

"And those cute little red cheeks should make it glaringly obvious what a naughty little girl you've been," Mom said, amusement flashing in her eyes.

"Mom!"

"Keep stalling and you'll find out I'm serious about the belt too," Mom said, an edge of warning creeping into her voice.

Surrendering, I slowly pushed myself upright from the table, my burning buttocks recapturing my attention in the process. I started to reach back for a quick rub when Mom caught my eye, making me think better of violating yet another rule. Instead, I held my shaking arms at my sides while my face grew redder and hotter from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Sniffling and biting my tongue, I forced myself to take the first step toward the door and the further humiliation awaiting me beyond its threshold.

Mom said, "And don't let me catch you sluffing either. You run the full distance of the walk, front to back and if I catch you standing around or doing anything other than running you can bet on getting a taste of your father's belt right out there for everyone to see. Am I understood?"

Were I to be honest I would have said no, but Mom would not have liked the truth right then. In my eyes, there is a big difference between running to the bathroom because you are stark naked and running in the house while playing childish games with squirt guns. One is normal and the other is silly and inappropriate whereas making your daughter run along the side of the house for all the neighborhood to see her freshly spanked, naked backside is just cruel, but rather than saying so, I meekly bowed my head and said, "Yes, Mom."

Scurrying across the yard to the concrete path running along the side of the house I barely noticed the cool morning air or the bright sun illuminating a clear blue sky overhead. My attentions was far more focused on the houses in the immediate vicinity and the fortunate absence of passersby on the street. Relief washed over me even though I knew the relative privacy would in all likelihood be short lived. Reaching the point of connection between the street walkway and the path running alongside the house, I stood still a moment staring at the distant wall fencing in the backyard. I bit at my lower lip and swallowed back tears of outrage as I prepared myself to comply with a punishment that felt utterly unfair.

I caught of glimpse of Mom peeking out through the side kitchen window and decided I could stall no longer. With a deep breath, I sprinted forward and began running toward the back wall. Mom continued to glare disapproval through the window as I sped passed, but at least she seemed content to stay inside watching. Reaching the back wall I slowed to a stop, turned around and sprinted back toward the street. A car drove by just seconds before I cleared the side of the house and if the driver looked in his rear view mirror he undoubtedly had an unobstructed view as I reached the street and turned around to head back to the wall once more.

I burned with shame, accentuated by the rush of cool air over my most private flesh and the constant bouncing of my unsupported breasts. My bare feet screamed in protest as they seemed to find every pebble and grain of sand along the path. Bounding along, the burn and sting emanating from my backside seemed to grow stronger and more pronounced with every lap. I tried to keep my breath steady and controlled, pacing myself for an undoubtedly long stint of embarrassing exercise, but the fear of being spotted and the discomfort from my spanking had my chest heaving as I sucked in air. Breathless, I kept running back and forth knowing the slightest hesitation would probably bring a reprimand or worse from Mom.

My worst fear came into being with the echoing whoosh of a neighbor's front door. I was almost at the back wall when I heard it and a shiver ran down my spine as I turned around to head back toward the street. The twenty-something son of the neighbors directly across from our house was standing outside their front door gawking at me. I should have looked at the sidewalk, the sky, the grass, anything but his face and yet my eyes were locked on him, unable to glance away. An ear to ear grin spread across his face as he too seemed unable to look anywhere but directly at me. Although I must say I think his gaze was locked a touch lower than my own, but who could blame him?

As I approached the street, and consequently neared him, I realized he had come out to collect the morning paper which was laying at his feet. Obviously, the sight of me had distracted him from his purpose and I am fairly certain he had completely forgotten about the paper. I doubt my cheeks could have grown any redder as I turned around at the street to run back the other way once more. If he had missed any detail of my naked body in the process it was not for lack of exposure. All I could think about was how long he might stand and watch as I ran back toward the wall, but when I turned around again he was gone along with his paper. I guess he saw all he needed to see.

"Well aren't you a sight," My mysterious little friend said, suddenly running beside me.

I glanced at the window to see Mom still staring out, watching me. She had a curious expression on her face and for a moment I thought she might have seen the girl herself but then I noticed my father behind her and realized the expression was probably just a result of the conversation they were no doubt having about me. When we were passed the window, I glanced at the girl again and breathlessly asked, "What do you want?"

"I have to say I'm honestly surprised," The girl said, effortlessly keeping pace with me, "I really didn't think your mother had the nerve to follow through on that threat. I guess you didn't either."

"What do you even know about my mother?" I said, huffing.

"More than you think, maybe even more than you. Did you know there was a time she couldn't imagine herself ever even raising a hand to you? You certainly managed to change her mind though," She said with a haunting laugh harmonizing with her voice.

I glared at her and said, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Her face suddenly contorted from the jovial expression she usually sported to one more serious and sullen as she said, "Impulse and instinct will only get you so far, beyond that you are going to have to start thinking about the repercussions of your actions or people are going to get hurt. Time is running short Allison and it's high time you grew up."

Angrily I turned my head to her and said, "What—

The girl vanished into the morning air, leaving me talking to myself.

—do you want from me?" I said, finishing the thought despite no one being around to hear.

Mom tapped on the glass, catching my attention and then signalling for me to come inside. I hustled over to the door only to find Dad blocking the way inside. Gasping for air and resting my hands on my hips I flushed deep red from head to toe, knowing he was seeing parts of me he should not ever see. A faint coloring in his cheeks told me he found the situation uncomfortably awkward as well, but not so much so that he would back down from his purpose.

"Get in here," Dad said, standing to the side and making me squeeze passed him. Forcefully, he closed the door before continuing, "Your behavior is disgraceful. I certainly hope you are ashamed of yourself because your mother and I are most certainly ashamed of you."

I stared at his glossy black shoes and the hem of his dress slacks because I could not bring myself to look any higher. His words and tone made me feel like a bug, cowering beneath the sole of his shoe and wondering if I would soon be splattered on the floor or left lucky enough to scamper off to some forgotten corner. I shuddered studying the perfect bows topping the laces of his oxfords, a sinking pit of fear opening my stomach that I could not explain.

Dad said, "You've got fifteen minutes to get dressed for work. Your mother laid out what you'll need on your bed."

I hesitated a moment my thoughts jumbled, but focused enough to realize my car was not at the house. I said, "My car—

"You won't be needing it. I'll be taking you to work for the next few days," He said.

"That's not necessary," I said, wondering why he would want to go through the hassle of driving me all the way up to Los Angeles for the rest of the week.

"I'm available and you obviously need more supervision," He said. "Now go get yourself ready."