Chapter 2

My mother was livid. I had never seen her this angry before. She did not look entirely shocked that I was naked. “Jan, turn this rock and roll music off right now!” my mother insisted.

The sweet sounds of “Sugar, Sugar” by the Archies were warbling through the tin-can speakers on the radio. I obeyed my mother immediately and flicked it off. I must have had a tremendous look of panic on my face. I apologized immediately, and I tried to think of some excuse, but my mother wouldn’t hear any of it.

“I read your little diary! Why did you put this on the kitchen table where anyone could find it?” my mother asked.

That was Cindy’s impossible to find hiding spot? The dining room table where my step-dad and three step-brothers, the maid, my mom, or even the family butcher could find it if he was there delivering meat this afternoon?

“I didn’t! Cindy and Marsha put it there!” I plucked the clothespins from my nipples. There was a sharp pain when I removed them abruptly, and then I immediately missed the constant stimulation they provided.

“Why did you take those off? Are you done with your little show?” My mom asked with a bitter look of disgust. My mom is a beautiful lady with short hair. She looks a little like the actress Shirley Jones. She plays the mom on this groovy TV Show, “The Partridge Family.”

“What show?” I asked as my lip quivered in fear. I gently released the clothespin that had been eating into my clit for the last 45 minutes when she pointed to the window behind me. I didn’t see anyone.

We walked to the window. My step-brother’s Peter and Greg had clearly quickly dropped off the trellis in front of my second-story window and were pretending to play a game of catch with an imaginary football.

“I had no idea they were up here watching me?” I pouted. I was secretly flattered that they had been peeking in the window. I wondered how they knew to look in my window. I wondered if my brothers had ever done that before! How much had they seen? Probably everything!

“You were up here frolicking and playing with yourself for forty-five minutes with the blinds open and never once turned around to see your brothers staring at you through the window?” My mom referred to Peter and Greg as my brothers now that she had married my Step-Father. It was a strange adjustment for me. It had always just been us three girls and my mom as long as I could remember. I never knew my biological father.

My mom said he was a Professor, and he was lost at sea, but I didn’t buy it. He had apparently only gone on a three-hour cruise. I wrote these elaborate erotic stories about him a movie star he was shipwrecked with. They spent long hours in the jungle writhing in sexual poses like some kind of raunchy idyllic Garden of Eden.

It was not a good time to reflect on the dirty stories I had written in my diary. My mom was clearly livid. I begged her to permit me to explain and put on some clothes. I wanted to blame Jan and Cindy but my mother wouldn’t entertain any excuses for my misbehavior. She said that I needed to learn to take responsibility for my actions – and I was clearly the one dancing naked in the window with clothespins on my twat and tits.

She called my pussy a “twat” – it was the first time I ever heard that word. It sounded so naughty coming out of my mother’s mouth. I don’t know why but my body shivered every time she referred to me as a “Little Twat” as well.

I couldn’t believe she would dare say those words but she used a string of profanity to condemn my behavior that shocked me and strangely aroused me.

“Oh, you are going to explain,” she said as she pulled me by my ear out of my bedroom.

“Mom, I am naked!” I protested as I struggled to prevent her from dragging me out of the privacy of my room.

“Yes, I can see that! Your brothers have already seen it too! You didn’t seem all that concerned about it a moment ago,” My mom grabbed my boobs and then brought her arm around my shoulders to force me down the stairs. I struggled, but I didn’t put up much of a fight against my own mother. I was shocked, humiliated, and completely flabbergasted by what was happening. It was all happening so fast that I couldn’t even process the level of embarrassment that was registering as I was dragged down our stairs into the living room.

“MIKE!” my mom yelled for my step-father. I had no desire for him to see me naked. I have to admit my Dad is kind of hot for a man his age. I know it’s wrong to think that – but technically we aren’t blood relatives, and I like men with mustaches. They look so distinguished.

“What is it, dear? I am working on some plans,” My father said from his study. He is an architect, and he is always working from home on some master plan.

“You need to see this,” my mother brought me down the stairs and forced my hands onto the rungs of the stairs in the living room. She kicked my knees out so that I was bent over, and my butt was presented to anyone that wanted to look.

Cindy and Marsha were both seated on our living room furniture comfortably. They looked completely innocent and sat up straight like diligent and innocent school girls.

Alice was wearing her powder blue uniform and dusting. She stopped and wiped her hands in her apron to observe this. Alice often reminds me of our gym teacher at school. There is something very masculine about her.

“Mom, please stop! What if Bobby sees?” my youngest step-brother is the same age as Cindy. He would never stop teasing me if he saw me naked.

“I already see,” I heard Bobby’s chipper voice. I could see his grinning, freckled face between when I looked between my legs. He was sitting right next to Cindy, staring up at my butt.

My mom sent Alice to get Greg and Peter. They didn’t want to come inside. My mom assured them they were not in trouble – YET, but they would be soon if they didn’t get inside. They were the ones peeking on ME!

How were they not in trouble?

When my Dad finally joined us, we were all together as a family in the living room. “Whoa!” he said calmly as he walked in and asked what happened.

“Do you want to explain, or shall I?” My mom asked. She sounded very disappointed in me.

“Mom caught me dancing naked in my room, and Greg and Peter were peeking on me,” I pouted and tried to make it sound like I wasn’t a slutty whore who was putting on a show for my brothers.

“Boys! That is completely unacceptable,” Mike said to Greg and Peter. They assured him that they were not up there to see me.

“Who were you there to see?” my Dad asked.

I could see Marsha when I looked between my legs while I was bending over. The look on her face suggested she knew they would be peeping in our windows. I suspected she may have been encouraging it.

“We were just trying to get a ball I threw up on the roof down,” Peter lied. It was pretty obviously a lie, but our father bought it.

“This is a very serious accusation, Peter. If you were up there to get the ball, then why would you be looking in your sister’s windows?” my father asked quite seriously.

“I heard some funky music coming from inside and just wanted to see what was going on. I had no idea Jan would be dancing around with clothespins attached to her nipples!” Peter seemed like he was the one embarrassed to be exposed to MY body.

“Why would she have those on her lady parts?” Dad asked my mother instead of me.

My mom held up my diary. It was proof of a thousand sinful and depraved thoughts and fantasies. My life is pretty dull, so I embellish a lot in my diary and write out dirty stories. It lets me live out those fantasies in my head. I could never have imagined a scenario like this one where I was naked in the living room, and my entire family was staring at me!

“I didn’t finish reading, but I am sure the reason is somewhere in this diary,” My mom said.

“Carole, I don’t believe in going through our children’s private diaries,” Dad said calmly.

“I wouldn’t have, but she left it out on the table for anyone to find. I had no idea what it was until I started reading. It isn’t a diary. It is nothing but smut,” My mom insisted.

“Ooh, I want to read it!” Bobby raised his hand enthusiastically.

“You can’t read!” Cindy insisted.

“Can too!” they started to argue back and forth, but mom shut them down quickly. She said that I would be getting a good-old-fashioned spanking. “Girls learn when butts burn,” she said. She asked Alice to retrieve her paddle. I have been spanked before, but it has been quite some time, and I was a much younger girl. I am almost always a good girl and didn’t need a spanking.

Marsha hadn’t been spanked since we moved into the house. When it was just the four of us living alone it wasn’t a big deal to have a bare bottom. It was very rare, and I didn’t have pubic hair – so it was fairly innocent.

Cindy had never been spanked. My mom spoils her and lets her get away with everything she would never have let me get away with.

“Please, Mom, not in front of the others,” I begged.

“Oh, yes – suddenly you are modest and concerned that someone might see your precious little bottom?” my mom asked rhetorically.

“Why is it all covered in hair?” Bobby asked. My Dad chided him for asking such a bold question. Bobby clarified that he meant the blonde peach fuzz on my butt cheeks. My Dad didn’t answer him.

“You’ll get ten and count them for everyone to hear. It will be a good lesson in this house that I am now the Mom and Mike is now the Dad and we expect a certain amount of decorum and good behavior from our children. There are consequences to cavorting and dancing about willy-nilly with your fanny hanging out.”

“Fanny!” Cindy laughed the word out of her mouth as if it was hilarious.

My mom laid down one mighty swipe of the wooden paddle after another. It belonged to her father. It had the words “Father Knows Best” etched into the wood and they left a mark on my bottom. I dutifully called out the number and thanked my mother for each spank.

The last time I received a spanking I didn’t remember it stinging quite as much. The sound was worse than the pain. The powerful flapping sound as the air cracked against my ample pear-shaped bottom. The sound of air sucking and cracking as it was brought down hard again terrified me. The pain itself was not intense, though.

The humiliation was what was turning me weak in the knees. I kept wondering if my brothers were staring into my pussy hole as it flapped open. I could feel juices leaking down my thighs as I continued to get wet. It was never like that when I was spanked as a little girl.