Spank & Correct: Sorry, Sorrowful & Sore

It took me a moment to notice, probably because the window had my full attention at first as blood rushed to color my face with embarrassment. I did not dare look to my sides, but I swear I could feel the heat of their blushes emanating outward and warming my skin. On the coffee table, three implements were laid out, the leather paddle, the strap, and the lexan paddle. It seemed incredibly unfair that I was paying for the tools my father intended to use to make me pay for other things as well. I made a mental note to find a way in which I could adequately repay Mrs. Anderson for her thoughtful gesture.

Dad said, "I don't know what has gotten into you three. Each one of you has behaved disgracefully this very evening and I think I can safely say it has been building up for weeks. It's going to end though and if it doesn't end tonight we'll keep doing this every night until it does end."

It might sound like an empty threat or a typical parental, "Or else," but he meant it and he would follow through. Part of me wished I had told Mr. Candle to take his cryptic warnings, his job, his twisted logic, and shove them up his... well you know, but in the rest of me I knew he was not the one to blame. I was determined to see things through to their conclusion and equally determined not to be broken by the childish punishments utilized by Dad. Boldness in my heart, I stared at Dad as he stared at us.

Steve leaned against the wall and watched us almost casually. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jenny pointedly avoiding any eye contact with Steve and the obvious difference with Mom looking straight ahead at Dad, as if she drew comfort from him. The only comfort in my mind was the relative safety I hoped my submission would yield for my nephew. It's not that I care nothing about the rest of my family, but I do not believe they truly need me to protect them from anything. Whatever our family is mixed up in with Mr. Candle, it is not my responsibility alone.

"Linda, I think we'll start with you," Dad said, focusing his attention on Mom. "Step out here and turn around." Dad pointed to a place on the floor in front of the coffee table's short edge on the far side of the living room. Mom walked forward quickly and stood on the spot, turning to face us without a moment's hesitation. The look in her eye as she waited for the next command seemed like a bit of misplaced pride, silently suggesting that we, Jenny and I, should follow her example.

Walking a few steps forward, Dad leaned down to retrieve the leather paddle and swished it through the air as he returned to stand behind Mom. Dad said, "With all the trouble Allison has caused lately, I'm extremely disappointed to find us here like this. I can't believe you would encourage her bad attitude by demonstrating one of your own. Maybe you didn't think it would matter or that no one would see, I don't really care because either way you were wrong and right now, I'm going to make sure you know exactly how wrong."

Mom's lip quivered as Dad lectured. Her eyes reflected an honest sorrow I wished I could share. If at least I felt bad about something I had done, I would easily accept the discipline and count myself lucky to have it. In its absence though, I found it difficult to maintain my pose and harder still to keep my mouth from running away. I swallowed my thoughts and focused on the moment telling myself to enjoy the small slice of justice about to be served on Mom.

Dad said, "Bend down, legs straight, grab the sides of the table and stay there unless you want extra."

There was no hesitation as Mom complied with the instructions. Her head stared at the table for a second and then she tilted her head up and stared straight ahead at Jenny for a long moment. Jenny shifted uncomfortably, as if she felt threatened and I almost felt sorry for her. She was trapped in the unfortunate position of caring about what my Mom thinks. Mom turned her gaze to me next, but when our eyes met it was her that looked away for a change.

The paddle swished through the air, accompanied by Dad's steady hand. Mom stiffened in preparation for the first swat. My lips curled upward and I almost forgot I was in line for a treatment of the same thing myself. The first spank landed on Mom's backside with a dull thud, but the blinking of her eyes told a deeper story about the sting it imparted. The sound of the first had barely faded when Dad raised the paddle high in the air swishing it downward to slap against her buttocks again. Mom's blinking eyes shot wide open for an instant, clearly caught by surprise at the rate of delivery. I wondered how long it had been since her last spanking.

Other than her eyes, she took the swats without reaction. Her hands held the table but not with great effort, her legs remained steady and still and even the locks of her hair barely bounced as the impacts filtered their way through her body. I recognized the dispassion as something I too was capable although my ability to control it was something remaining to be learned. If Dad noticed, he gave no sign of it. He continued the spanking until he had delivered a full fifteen swats. A sob pierced the air as the last one landed and I thought it strange for Mom to be sobbing so suddenly, but then I realized it was not coming from Mom at all. Jenny sniffled, obviously succumbing to Mom's manipulation of guilt.

Dad stepped away from Mom and walked toward Steve. Not a word was spoke as the paddle passed between them and Steve took up position behind Mom. I had not really expected that development, but Mom showed no signs of surprise as Steve delivered the first of his fifteen spanks. Steve delivered them much faster than Dad and Mom's body rippled more under the intensity of his barrage, but her reactions remained confined to her eyes and of course, Jenny's mournful tears beside me.

"Stand up," Steve ordered, "Hands on your head and march yourself back over to the wall."

Mom was a little slower standing up than she had been about bending down. She moved her arms stiffly back to her sides and then raised her hands to return to the uncomfortable pose on top of her head, but I could see the tremble in her fingers as she undoubtedly wished to rub away some of the sting. A deep breath and she marched herself across the room to her former place beside me, but instead of facing the room she remained facing the wall. I do not know if my brother intended for her to remain that way, but he gave no order to contradict it, nor did Dad.

Steve dropped the paddle back on the table and resumed his place leaning against the wall. Dad walked back over to the edge of the couch and frowned at Jenny and I for a quiet minute with the only sound being the occasional sniffle from Jenny. Knowing Dad, I expected he would save my butt for last, however, he could also do it different just because he knew what I would expect. Jenny on the other hand, was completely without expectation and as far as I know, it was her first time being disciplined by Dad. As far as that went, it might be the first time Steve had ever raised a hand toward her as well, but I know she was raised with the occasional taste of her father's belt.

"Jenny, out here," Dad said, pointing at the same spot on the floor. Jenny swallowed hard trying to hold back the flow of tears streaming down her cheeks. She walked with trembling knees to the prescribed spot and then turned back to face me, just like Mom had done. Dad shook his head, but decided to not make an issue of her turning around without being told to do so. If It had been me, I think he would have had me marching all over the room in a disturbing twist of Simon Says.

Dad walked forward to the table and picked up the strap, waving it at Jenny like a pointer as he made his way back behind her. He said, "Do you find it amusing? I can only assume you must because why else would you have allowed someone to send you all those photos and videos?"

Jenny said, "I—

"Quiet," Dad said. "If I want to hear another sorry excuse out of you I'll let you know, but right now you are going to listen. Understood?"

Jenny nodded and kept her mouth firmly shut. Dad said, "Good. You were obviously amused with Allison this evening and I might even suggest you went out of your way to implicate my wife in improper behavior. I hope you like what you've caused and brought upon yourself. I hope you find this situation and your own spanking to be an amusement. I hope you like squirming in your seat and I hope you like tears on your cheeks because if you don't I can't imagine why you've been doing the things you've been doing. You've not only damaged your own reputation, you've brought a stain of shame upon this entire family and the very least I can hope for is that you feel a tiny bit of that embarrassment, shame and pain this night."

Before his words could even begin to fad, Dad whipped the strap down against Jenny's backside. She screamed and jumped, legs kicking the air as her hands slipped from their place atop her head and grabbed at her butt. I might have laughed, but I knew how much the thing hurt and it would be all the worse, crashing down when unexpected. Tears streamed out of her eyes with renewed urgency and she bounced around in a circle, until Dad grabbed hold of her shoulder to steady her in place.

Dad said, "Not so funny now, is it?" Jenny shook her head, sobs caught in her throat. Dad said, "Bend over and grab the table and if you display anymore of these antics I'll have Linda hold you down while you get a double dose. Understood?"

Jenny nodded at him and turned herself around as he let go of her. She quickly leaned down over the coffee table, avoiding my eyes as she grasped the edges. Her knuckles turned white while her harms shook with effort directed at holding herself down. The decent part of me hope she succeeded in staying put, but the more vindictive part of my personality secretly hope she would soon be leaping around the room again. A quick glance at Steve and the half smile on his lips made me wonder if he was similarly torn, watching his wife.

A gasp burst from Jenny's lips as the strap made its second contact with her backside. Dad gave her a few seconds to recover before swinging again. Tension seemed to be building in the room as Dad delivered spank after spank. Steve shifted against the wall and our eyes met for the briefest of moments in which I realized he hated watching Dad spank her. He would never have allowed it if he did not believe she deserved it, but deserving is not always enough of a justification and Steve was perhaps realizing it for the first time in his life. He was committed to a course of actions, but his heart was far from certain it was the right course. Or maybe it was just all in my head.

Dad, having delivered fifteen spanks with the strap, handed it over to Steve and stepped aside. Steve, hesitated a moment studying the naked and striped butt belonging to his wife. I thought he was going to let her up with nothing more, but then he raised the strap in the air and swung it for a stiff contact with her extended bottom. She squealed in obvious intensified discomfort. Tears dripped from her eyes, splashing in the puddles of their precursors on the table top. Steve, like before, wasted no time in delivering his set of fifteen and by the last few, Jenny's legs were dancing wildly and it was a pure miracle her hands held tight to the table. She screamed and sobbed, but interestingly enough she did not apologize nor beg for leniency. I guess strength is not always silent.

"Stand up," Steve ordered. "Hands on your head and get back over to the wall."

Jenny was much faster than Mom at standing up, but her steps were slower. It was clear by her expressions, every step brought about a refresher of discomfort. Her tear stained face might have seemed like she was broken, but the set of her jaw and the firmness of her lips, told another story. I think there was something to be learned from her poise and the way she unabashedly made her pain known. What it was and if I would ever learn it, I do not know, but I recognized it as something just as noble as Mom's silence.

Steve dropped the strap on the table. Dad stepped forward again and Steve stepped back against the side wall again. "Out here," Dad said, looking at me and pointing at the floor. I sighed, but complied because there was really no other choice. Unlike Jenny, I continued to face the windows, waiting to be told to turn around.

Dad said, "You look like my daughter. Your voice is reminiscent of my daughter's, but that's where the similarities end. This attitude? Where did it come from? Who do you think you are striking me in my own home? Laughing at discipline? Nothing phases you and that's not my daughter."

It was strange to listen to the tactic he chose. I remember him using it once before, I was fifteen at the time and much more concerned with what my friends thought of me than what my parents did. Now, things are different though and as he states, I am not the Allison I once was. Of course, he knows nothing of secret identities and a high risk job or the tangled web of connections between our family and a world almost too incredible to believe, but his words rang true in a way he could never imagine.

"I want her back," Dad said, "I'll do whatever I have to make that happen and someday you'll thank me because this person you're becoming isn't the sort of person anyone likes or wants to be around. If what I'm about to do hurts, it is because it's meant to but I mean it when I say the pain in my heart is far greater than anything I could ever deliver upon you."

Steve said, "Think about the person you always wanted to be, Allison. Are you that person today? What are you willing to change to become her? Think you can't do it alone? We're all here to help you and all you have to do is ask."

It is a good thing he did not wait for answers because he would not like the ones floating around in my head. The truth was, I never imagined I could be anything special, anything unique and now that I know there is something special about me, I am not able to pretend to be ordinary anymore. I never wanted the life I had, I thought I was stuck with it, but everything has changed now. I stared at my reflection in the window and wondered how she managed to make the submissive pose look defiant.

"Turn around and bend over, " Dad said. I complied, grabbing the edges of the table and studying the wood grain as I waited for the spanking to begin. Dad stepped to my side and reach down in front of me, taking away the lexan paddle and then disappearing behind me, where I could no longer see.

In the past, I would tense up in anticipation of the first swat. This time was different though, I waited, relaxed as if I cared not whether the paddle struck. I heard its whisper, slicing through air like a fan, bringing a wave of cool air over my bottom before the plastic slapped against my tender flesh, sending a wave of wobbles through my body. I knew it hurt, but the sensations must have gotten lost on the way to my brain because I felt nothing at all.

I heard the second swat and the third, but like the first nothing seemed to be effecting me. My butt should have been screaming with pain, considering the amount of spankings I had taken in recent days. My thoughts started to drift at the monotony of swats and the coffee table shimmered before my eyes, disappearing and leaving me in darkness. I could still hear the spanking being delivered, feel the presence of my family, but I was also alone and in silence. It was the oddest sensation of my life.

"There is something I must show you," My grandmother said, "There isn't much time. Watch and remember."

I opened my mouth to ask a question but suddenly I was flying through the sky with rocky mountain peaks below me. The wind whipped through my hair and I was whisked around the cap of a strangely shaped peak and then I sped down a winding dirt path into a valley where a primitive tribe stood staring at me and pointing toward the horizon. A dark cloud loomed in the distance and I was ripped away from it, soaring over desert, ocean, and forests. The world made a stomach wrenching turn and I was inside a cave, navigating dark twists and turns until it opened into a gigantic cavern with a calm pool of black water. In its reflection I saw myself, but the reflection moved of its own accord and there was something not right with her, not me.

"Stand up," Steve ordered, and the cave vanished to be replaced with the living room. "Join the others at the wall, hands on your head."

I shook off the disorientation and stood up, suddenly feeling a burst fiery pain emanating from my buttocks. My hands shook with the effort to place them atop my head instead of massaging my inflamed buttocks. I walked slowly toward the wall, questions swimming in my head. No doubt about it, I had a well spanked bottom, stinging and burning, but somehow I had missed the entire event for a vision reminding me of the one in the Philippines, but this one had been much darker and something about it chilled me to the bone.