Chapter 7

After our punishment, I was somewhat bewildered about the tingling sensation in my butt cheeks and around my pussy. Suppose you can imagine electric impulses like wisps floating in the breeze, turning on and off their lights under your skin, except when the light turns out. In that case, it sends out a pleasurable but fleeting burst of pain relief—that was what it was like.

It was strangely arousing, and of all my conflicting emotions, this was one.

You may think being placed on restriction and spanked in front of your entire family is a bad thing. At the time, I certainly was in a panic and awash with abject shame.

My ass stung, and yet I was feeling all these endorphins; I’d never live down what naughty things my parents did. My brothers appeared blameless to my parents and had gotten away with getting us in trouble.

What I am going to tell you next is that it may have been one of the best things that ever happened to me. That’s not going to make sense to you, yet. It certainly would not have made sense to me. How could having my butt burn for something I didn’t actually do and being placed on restriction actually help me?

My revelation was that through the pain that I had endured, I felt closer than ever to my mother. I should have hated her. Moments after I got off her lap, I judged her a raging psychopathic hypocrite. I believe the shared pain, even with Holly delivering it and me receiving it, created a bond, because after going through the shared experience it felt like we had gone through hell together.

The same is true of Joy and I. Running together nude in the snow was stupid by all metrics you might want to use. We were always close, but now something clicked and sharing restrictions with Joy made me feel connected to her in a way that I hadn’t felt before.

After some introspection, I understood how she got caught up in the emotions of the moment. It was intense. I lost track of time; there was a moment when I had almost gone away to some sort of place in my mind to avoid the pain or perhaps to just exist within it.

I didn’t know much about Zen meditation. I wrote a paper meditation on Zen back in 8th grade for a book report. It was the closest frame of reference I had to what happened to me during the time I got the strap. It was like I was meditating and floating away but also still there in the thick of the action—in two places at once. The pain did not exist, and yet it stung. There was a point for a split-second that lasted for five minutes, and I didn’t exist; time meant nothing, and I checked out of reality. The pain wasn’t real, but pain was also everywhere around me.

I know that sounds like gibberish, but that was the best I could do to describe this surreal, almost out-of-body experience that may have been entirely in my head. My best guess was it was my body’s automatic reaction to extreme pain attempting to pull me out of it and help me endure it.

Other than that, I wouldn’t realize at the time that the next few days would not only reveal so many secrets about my family but also bring every one of us closer together. I said at the beginning of the story that dark clouds were ahead and that we’d eventually see the silver lining. There were still more dark clouds, but it was tonight that altered our family’s course toward the silver lining. I’d do things the same exact way if I ever had a chance to do them again. You couldn’t have convinced me of that back then, though.

My parents were freaked out even more than I was about the spanking. I guessed that Dad had intentionally not given me a real spanking because he felt guilty about doing it. I also thought that my mother had reached a point where her emotions got the best of her, and now she was embarrassed about how she handled it.

Holly was composed and firm, but clearly she also felt guilty about going off the rails during my punishment. I think we had to endure it just for my parents to question the path they had set us on.

If not, and we only had the restriction, it may have gone a different way. The next few days were going to be hard work and humiliation, and you may not believe me, but only with the power of hindsight do I think of them fondly.

After the spanking, while my ass was still pink and I was standing around in the living room rubbing my butt with a stunned expression, my mom brought me to the hallway and gave me a razor and scissors. Holly told me to take care of my hair and apologized softly again for her language and temper. We were alone, whispering in the hallway directly between the bathroom and my room.

“Nothing good comes from seeds planted with anger. I used those words because I thought they might make you feel the hurt that I felt when I knew you used them, and I regret it. I am sorry, I wanted to apologize to you personally, and I’ll talk to Joy individually.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“It’s not okay. We are not done with your restriction just because I lost my cool. I am going to be firm with you, but I made a mistake tonight. You deserve better than that. I will go to my room and pray. In the morning, I will see you bright and early out in the living room. Set your alarm so you have time to wash up and prepare. I am putting you to work tomorrow at 6 a.m. Your restriction won’t be easy, and I won’t be easy on you just because I lost my cool once.”

“I know that, Mom,” I replied.

“There were some things I said that I meant tonight, but they got jumbled up with foul language,” she said, placing her hand on my shoulder. I wondered what those things were, but I didn’t have to wait for her to tell me.

“I told your father that I think the best medicine for what you did is more of it. I truly believe that by the end of December, you’ll regret today and never flash again. I think you regret that you got caught, but I mean truly and deeply change into the woman that I know you CAN be through the administration of some tough love.”

I didn’t know what tough love meant, and she clarified.

“Tough love can seem like abuse if people don’t understand it. It’s the last resort when someone you love can’t be reached any other way. My brother Jerry was an alcoholic, and tough love was cutting him off, until he reached a point where he asked for help. He HAD to hit rock bottom and lose everything. He went through an endless cycle of lost jobs, broken relationships, and DUIs, and then he would show up on someone’s doorstep. We’d fix him up, get him right, and he’d go right back out and do it again. It wasn’t until he burned every bridge, and we let him truly fail, that he was able to pick himself up.”

That sounded horrible.

“I know; I can see it on your face that you don’t understand. I wouldn’t have at your age either. It’s called being cruel to being kind. You may come to hate me through this, but we are doing this for a better outcome for you, and I am going to ride your ass. Tough love is deliberately being strict or harsh with someone you care about to help them overcome a problem or make positive changes in their life, even if it might seem unkind at the moment; now do you understand, Mary?”

I admitted that I didn’t fully.

“In your case, it’s taking everything you took for granted away, and making you earn it back. It’s taking simple things like a meal and making it unpleasant by having you stand. Your father wanted you to sit on towels at the table and eat normally, but I convinced him that by making it harder for you, you’ll have to work harder to join us again.”

She seemed like she wanted my approval for that.

“Mary, you crave attention. You can tell me you are shy, but it’s always the quiet ones,” Holly said. She was grossly mistaken. “The attention you will receive from your father and me is a different kind than what you crave. I intended to hurt your feelings tonight during your spanking. I went about it the wrong way in front of my sons, and when you said I didn’t have the right to say those things, it made me even angrier, with you trying to correct me.”

I said I was sorry again for that, but I didn’t like her admission she was trying to hurt my feelings.

“I needed to get through to you. I wanted you to understand what is and isn’t acceptable, and bragging about taking it up the pooper isn’t it,” she said. She looked over her shoulder and was talking in hushed tones.

“I know you think I am a hypocrite for not practicing what I preach about vulgarity, but I am an adult, Mary. I can say ass, shit, fuck, and even cock when I am talking to adults. I don’t ordinarily do that around my kids. I made an exception for you just now because you need to know that I KNOW those words; I grew up AROUND those words. I know it’s not a back hole. I know what it really is.”

That actually made sense, and now I felt worse for calling her a hypocrite.

“You use dirty words all the time, and I am positive about that. You wouldn’t use them in front of me or at school because you know better. It’s a matter of knowing when and when you cannot say them. I wouldn’t use those words in church, but I might when I am having a beer with some adults.”

I looked askance at Holly.

“Do you think I only drink southern tea? Yes, your mom occasionally cracks open a beer, Mary. Look, I am leveling with you because I want you to know something. I wanted to get through to you in a language that you could understand tonight. If Ethan and Nick weren’t here, I would write anal whore right across your ASS and make you strut around the house while I laugh at you until you finally feel shame. I’d make you show everyone in town and confess to them that you streaked the highway, until you were embarrassed enough about your actions that you’d never do them again.

“I think small measures won’t work with you and your sister. You were flashing truckers, so being nude may not be enough. I hope I am wrong, but I need to take you down a peg or two for your own good. That’s tough love, Honey. You are too big for your britches. That is what I wanted to say to you tonight. I took those britches away, and I’ll give them back when and if you learn to behave and not before. If I find out that you like walking around without them, I’ll find another way to reach you.”

“I understand,” I said.

“I don’t think you do. I think you and your sister need attitude adjustments, and once we strip your pride, egos, and perverse desires, we can build you back up again the way you were supposed to be. It’s a painful process, but it has to be this way.”

I turned to head to the bathroom. It was just across from my room, and the door hinges were already off. My sister was lying face up on the bare mattress, staring at the ceiling. “There will be no privacy from now on. I’ll be searching your room randomly, and you need to earn that back, along with everything else.”

The ordeal was over ... for now. I was alone in the bathroom. I checked out my butt in the mirror. It was red, and I could see the strap marks. I also clenched my butt cheeks to see how that looked and then pulled them apart to get an idea of what my “bottom hole” looked like and what it took to actually expose it just by walking like Joy sometimes did.

I removed my makeup first; I always do that. I wear minimal makeup, but a little of it ran tonight during the tears. Mom said we wouldn’t be wearing anymore for a while, so I put my makeup away and told myself to just forget it. It wasn’t as important to me as it was for my sister Joy. I told myself I’d comply with the consequences my parents gave me. However, my thoughts were focused on what my mom told me privately in the hallway.

I wondered why she told me what she did. I wasn’t sure if it was a warning that things may escalate.

The hot water from the shower was a tonic for the muscle aches, stress, and my sore bottom.

I began to soap myself up with scents of pure eucalyptus that soothing me with a cool temperature, enveloping me like dew-covered floral bubbles in its wake. You can probably guess that I was thrilled to just be alone in the shower for a moment after the spanking rocked my world. It was like I was a reset for my mind, and for a moment, I forgot any of this had ever happened.

I took a long pee, cleaned and trimmed my nails, and took care of everything I needed to do before returning to the tub to shave my legs.

I’ve done that many times, and I’ve suffered a few nicks, but I wasn’t worried about that. I planned to be careful. I had NEVER shaved my pussy—my ENTIRE pussy. My Mom told me to get rid of my lady hairs, and I wondered how I’d look. This was probably intended to degrade me and make me feel like a slut, and I assumed it would work.

I wasn’t sure what that would accomplish. My Mother seemed to think this was some bitter pill I had to swallow. I was quite frankly afraid that I’d cut my pussy lips in the process. I had to use an old can of Barbasol to shave my legs. It’s been in the cabinet since we moved to this trailer. It has rust on the bottom but somehow never runs out of cooling cream.

I briefly considered playing with myself and rubbing the cream all over my pussy, but decided against it. I didn’t want to get caught somehow and get in trouble.

Once I finished shaving my legs, I had one project left to complete. I needed to shave my pussy bald. I used the scissors to trim off most of the big hair and threw that away. It was a LOT of hair. I had never trimmed it before. I knew it should be done; I just hadn’t thought much about it.

It was definitely overgrown and thick, much thicker than I even realized. I couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to actually shave my pussy. I opted to squat in the bathtub, spread my knees wide, and then just have at it. It took five times shaving to finally get rid of all the hair that I had grown since puberty.

Finally, there it was—a completely bald pussy. I assumed this was to humiliate me, and I felt it definitely would. The razor was worn out by the time I finished.

I had to pull open folds and flaps. I didn’t even realize that I had to search out all those tiny hairs in between my labia. Still, finally, I was able to clean off all the shaving cream and examine myself in the mirror.

It was a startling difference. My pussy was bald! The reality was kicking in. I wasn’t sure if the intention was to make me look less mature by making me hairless like like a young girl, but there was another reason I suspected my mother knew this would really humiliate me.

The smoothness of my skin initially felt kind of nice, but now I couldn’t stop looking at the bald patch between my legs. The most horrifying part was now I could finally see what my pussy REALLY looked like.

I had a general idea of the position of my labia. My pubic hair had covered almost everything. The last time I had seen my clit, it was MUCH smaller, and I was just starting to grow pubic hair. But now I had almost no clitoral hood, and my clit protruded out like a tiny mushroom-shaped penis. I was fascinated by it and horrified.

It didn’t look anything like I’d seen in porn. Other than some frisky play with a few girls back home, I had minimal experience with female anatomy “down there.” My clit was EXTREMELY sensitive, so much so that it almost hurt when I flicked it up and down.

It made me horny just playing with it. When I stroked it like a penis, I sat down on the toilet, spread my legs, and started playing with myself. It had been a long day, and tomorrow might be a hard one. I gave myself permission to enjoy it, and soon, I was discovering what felt particularly good.

Squeezing it, squishing it, or even mashing down on it was doing heavenly things to me. I realized it was like an instant pleasure button. The next time I had sex with a guy, I planned to press it whenever he finally cums and then give myself an orgasm at the same time that he finished.

Shaving my pubic hair off seemed like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I knew people would be shocked by the size of my clit and the stark absence of pubic hair. If my mother’s goal was to embarrass me, that would do it.

However, I had discovered that I hadn’t been using this part of my pussy at all for myself. I usually put two fingers in my pussy to get off, and fingers hadn’t really done it. Now, it was all about giving my clit little circular motions, pulling it, and squishing it—it was my new toy.

THUMP, THUMP!

I was startled, who was knocking on the bathroom door?

“You have been in there a VERY long time, Mary. What are you doing?” My Mom started to open the door without waiting. I stood up quickly, and I probably looked like I was doing something, but at least I wasn’t deep in the throes of an impressive self-induced orgasm.

Holly’s face suggested she thought she caught me doing something when she opened the door.

“I just finished shaving like you asked; it took me six times to get all the hair off,” I said as I tapped my clit briefly with my thumb and put my hands to my side.

“What did you do? Why did you shave it all off?”

“You told me to shave off my lady hairs!” I pouted. I suspected that my mother was changing what she told me to do, just to get me in more trouble.

“Trim them UP; you had a jungle down there. You WANT everyone to see your lady parts, don’t you? You did this to spite me?”

I realized we had a very embarrassing miscommunication. She thought I had done this to piss her off, and I thought she was changing the instructions after I already shaved myself fully just to have another reason to be mad at me.

“What? No, I heard you tell me to shave, you handed me a razor, and I shaved, Ma’am. I am not trying to spite you; why would I dig myself in deeper?”

“You are telling me you don’t know everyone is going to look at your little flap-dang-doodle waving in the wind now?”

I that knew Holly meant my clit. I didn’t use vulgarity on a regular basis, and I was uncomfortable saying “clit” out loud. However, I wished that Holly would come right out and call it what it was because “flap-dang-doodle” made it sound even more embarrassing.

“I thought that was the idea. You wanted me to be humiliated, and you were going make me walk around calling myself an anal whore, and wearing it written on my butt, so I just complied. I am so sorry, Mom!”

“I’ll bet.” Holly didn’t believe me. She looked me over and saw that I removed my makeup, trimmed down my nails, and sniffed me before deciding I must have washed. “I probably should have just gone in there with you and made sure you did it right, but that’s my fault. I don’t know if you did it on purpose for attention, or if you did it because you thought I told you to shave yourself completely, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt. Tomorrow, though, if anyone laughs at the size of that thing, don’t say that I didn’t warn you!”