Chapter 2

I couldn’t stop my nipples from getting hard while I wore the suit home. I was certain everyone knew and thought I was thinking naughty thoughts. It was so embarrassing! I couldn’t help it. It was like having two mini-erections poking off of my chest. Dad didn’t say anything about my hard nipples, but I am sure he couldn’t miss them.

Lindsay had a good laugh when Mom made me model our new swimsuits for Dad after we got home.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s the Itty Bitty Titty Committee’s Summer Bikini line ... This year, the flat-chested sprites will be modeling the latest in boy-repelling swimwear! If you want to protect your daughter’s virginity, these suits will definitely do the trick!” she announced with the flourish of a sarcastic ringmaster introducing a carload of clowns.

Ruthie was unbothered by my sister’s jokes. She twirled and even performed a pirouette to show off her new suit. I did my best to model my suit for dad. I certainly didn’t try to do anything sexy or flashy. I was just hoping my pointy nipples would eventually soften and nobody would say anything about them.

“Lindsay!!” Mom growled angrily over her teasing. My family liked to joke a lot and Dad liked to say that “you only get the jokes you are supposed to get.” That meant that if you were too young to understand a dirty joke then it should just fly over your head. Ruthie knew what virginity was – she just didn’t care. She wasn’t interested in losing hers and I pretended I hadn’t lost mine already.

I tried not to let the teasing bother me. I was busy texting Pod every chance I got. My family has a group chat we share as well to communicate with each other. I spent a lot of time on my phone. Mom was a little concerned that I was spending TOO much time on my phone.

“The kids are super easy, but you have to be aware of what’s going on in the house. Your sister is working now, and I am trusting you to manage things,” Mom repeatedly told me that.

The first day we were left home alone without Lindsay felt strange. I made us breakfast and mom had left a list of chores and we had some general house rules. The rules were simple and involved mostly common sense like not inviting others over without permission. We weren’t stuck in the house all day either. If chores were done, we were free to go out in the yard and play. We could go outside and play on our street as long as Lindsay gave us permission.

Now, I was technically in charge. I say technically because since we already knew the rules, no one challenged them. My brother’s got a little carried away and unfocused when they got wrapped up playing games or wrestling but they were not stubborn brats. Ruth Ann was generally helpful and thoughtful about completing her chores.

Our chores weren’t exhausting or drudgery. It was just normal housework that you might give teenage kids. Mom made it very clear that just because I was in charge did not mean I could sit on my fanny and point my finger at the others and direct them to work.

Even Lindsay had chores to do when she used to watch us last summer when our parents were not home. They weren’t divided evenly, but nobody complained, and we usually got everything done. Mom wasn’t a super stickler about it with white gloves or anything like that.

Once chores were done, I was free to spend the rest of the day as I saw fit. I would have read a book and sometimes I lay out with Lindsay on a lawn chair in the backyard and get a little sun. Instead, I texted Pod constantly. He didn’t ask for nudes or say anything dirty. I think the fact he didn’t make me wish he would. It was very friendly, although at times I wondered if he liked me as a “girl” or just a friend. He was very standoffish and polite.

When Mom gets home if the dishes aren’t clean, she doesn’t make us rewash them. She makes us eat off of them again. “Since you clearly WANT dirty dishes then you must WANT to eat off of them.”

Mom is a big believer in the punishment fitting the crime and that the best way to encourage you to stop a behavior is often to rub your nose in it. It didn’t take too many times of eating from crusty plates for us to put a little more elbow grease into scrubbing.

Lindsay and my dad usually come home after, and we tend to eat together as a family. My mom will prepare dinner and Lindsay and I will help. It isn’t that the others wouldn’t. Mom sees helping with dinner as a privilege because we are the older kids in the family. “Too many cooks in the kitchen with fingers in the mashed potatoes. Out, out!” she’ll whisk away my younger siblings if they get hungry and start poking around the kitchen when we are late serving dinner.

All in all, the first couple of days were a typical American Summer. I say typical American summer because I spent most of my free time texting with Pod and comparing life in America to life in Britain.

Pod explained the differences in crisps and chips to me and I still didn’t get it until he sent photographs.

“Wait, crisps are potato chips, and potato chips are French fries?” I texted back. He laughed and said that Americans had gotten it backwards and the English had been saying it right all along. I loved talking to him through text message. I could send any thought that popped into my head and then wait a few minutes and find a response from him.

I found myself mentally salivating as I checked my phone for responses for him. I was always so excited to see the new message indicator on my phone. I kept wondering if I was pestering him. One thing I discovered about British people seemed to be that they are either incredibly polite or they simply have a high tolerance for being annoyed by teenage girls with a thousand questions – at least Pod did.

It was harmless chit-chat between two very bored teenagers. At night, I would play with myself (under the covers so Ruth Ann wouldn’t know) and imagine him kissing me and more. I was an expert with the finger. I found myself growing very fond of his wit and intellect.

I’d also spend a long time in the bathtub with my legs up and directly under the faucet. The warm water splashing against my pussy was incredibly stimulating. I didn’t have any sex toys, but I had a finger and a lot of imagination.

After three days of this routine, I made a mistake and I blame myself for this. I got a little carried away texting with Pod about all the ways that America was different than Britain. I had assumed that they were basically like Americans except they had different accents. I had no idea that they drove on the WRONG side of the road over there. Naturally, to Pod we are the ones who have that backward as well.

When Mom got home only half of the chores were complete. The water was running in the sink, and I hadn’t noticed. “Where are the others?” Mom panicked. She didn’t see my brothers and Ruth Ann. I panicked too.

She went outside and yelled for them. Georgie and my brother came riding back quickly. However, Ruth Ann was nowhere to be seen. We looked for her in the yard and she wasn’t there. We immediately thought the worst! Lindsay came home and helped us look all over for my little sister. I genuinely thought she may have been kidnapped!

She was hiding in the bushes, but she waited a painful 15 minutes to reveal herself. My mom nearly called the police.

I made a huge mistake after we all sighed a breath of relief. You see, this ended quite well, and everyone was safe and sound. The house was not a mess, but it was clear that we had not completed our chores, and as I said the water had been running – for how long? I have no idea.

Crises averted – no big deal. Right? Well, no.

“That is the culprit right there! You were on that phone! Who were you texting? Let me see!” Mom demanded.

It seemed like a terrible invasion of my privacy, and I was disappointed that Mom didn’t trust me. However, she did PAY for the phone, and I was in deep doo-doo for not paying attention. I didn’t argue with her. I just handed it over.

Mom scrolled through it and looked for dirty words and pictures and seemed surprised not to find any. She handed it back to me, sat down on the couch. “Lay across my lap! Now Katie! You know what is going to happen. You were responsible. You want to be treated like an adult. Well, you face consequences like one.”

I hardly believed that adults got spanked by their mothers. I knew better than to protest and I was in no position to argue that with her. Lindsay and the others grinned silently but didn’t egg mom on. It would have been unwise to do that because she might have punished them too. She was very upset, and Mom looked like she was ready to blister my behind.

My immediate reaction was to shriek like a mouse. I knew what was coming next!

“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Mom announced. It was humiliating but I was thankful. Lindsay once told me that if they send the rest of us out of the room to spank you that you were REALLY going to get it. That had never happened to any of us as far as I knew.

Mom made me take down my jeans to my thighs. I was wearing a pair of yellow panties. They weren’t sexy panties – they were just normal panties. The cheap kind that come in a pack of 12 and has little frilly flowers on them. The material of the panties was quite sheer. There was nothing I could do to hide myself. I began to blush because I was aware that the outline of my butt crack was visible to my brothers and sister.

My mom is not a quiet spanker. She doesn’t count, and she doesn’t make me keep count. She began with two hard pops on either butt cheek and then she asked me a question. Mom’s questions were often intended to make me admit what I did wrong, or what I would do better next time– and they usually embarrassed me to no end.

“What did you do wrong today, Katie?”

“I didn’t pay attention to what everyone was doing, and I left the water running,”

POP-POP, the next two slaps stung. “What else?”

“I didn’t know where the others were”

POP-POP-POP, three slaps because she had to ask what else again.

“I was on my phone instead of watching them?”

“Right,” Mom slapped my butt again rapid-fire and moved on. “What are you going to do differently from now on?”

“I am going to keep an eye on everyone, make sure we do our chores, and never let the water run like that again.”

I heard Lucas joke about how I liked to run the bath water for a long time. I was angry that he was probably listening to me in the bathroom! My mom was laser-focused on me.

What I discovered was that my mom’s spankings got longer and harder the more incomplete my answers were. The times I answered her question fully she popped my behind hard but moved on. The times she had to drag the answer out of me by repeating the question she smacked my butt over and over. My panties were sliding down as she popped me, and I was certain by this point that my butt was not only rosy-red but also quite bare.

I lost count, but all in all, I would say she slapped my butt at least 40 times. They were hard enough to leave it red and rosy but not to bruise my behind. I probably could have brought it down to 20 if I had given more detailed responses to her questions.

She asked me if texting all day was worth this trouble, and obviously I told her it wasn’t. “Good, I expect you to think about what you did and if it WAS worth it and you do it again tomorrow, we’ll do this again until you realize that it isn’t.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I stood up when she released me and rubbed my sore behind through the panties. It felt like she had shredded them when she was slapping my bottom but that was just my imagination.

“You can hold your phone with your mouth so that it is present in your mind,” Mom put it up to my mouth until I opened up and clenched my teeth around it. She tapped my forehead indicating that was my mind and now I had the phone “on” my mind.

Then my mother instructed me to waddle over to the corner and stand there with my nose in the corner until she told me to stop.

I had a small tear in my eye, but Mom had no sympathy for any temporary discomfort or humiliation I experienced. She was livid and she told me that the last thing she wanted to do after a hard day’s work was come home and spank my butt. “That sting on your precious little derriere is a deterrent so that I do not have to do it again. If it’s unpleasant enough, you will think twice next time.”

When I tried to pull up my panties, my mother told me not to touch them! “Hands off your butt!”

I could hear my brothers and Ruthie’s derisive laughter at the suggestion I was trying to play with my bottom. I did want to rub my sore behind – but I was merely trying to protect my own modesty.

I nodded and my mom told me to take my shoes off. It was bad enough that I had my jeans pulled down around my thighs. I was positive that my brothers could see my shiny red bottom through the light-colored panties. They didn’t laugh or snicker though. All three of them including Ruthie looked sympathetic for my plight.

My mom reminded me, “I want to see nose and toes touching the corner! Elbows straight at your side, hands flat against your thighs.”

It was difficult to get my nose to touch the corner and still hold the phone in my mouth. I had to really press my body into the crack. What made it worse was that Pod did not know what had happened and I kept feeling the vibration go off in my mouth and almost dropped it.

Mom made me hold the position for 15 minutes, but it felt like 15 years to me. When my father got home, he was told what I had done and that I had been punished. He wasn’t happy about it. Lindsay seemed unsurprised.

“I am sorry mom; I wish I could have been here. I have a date tonight, so I don’t plan to stay for dinner! Oh, he is here, see you!” Lindsay didn’t even change clothes before rushing out. She told me to do better as she left.

My butt stung for a full hour after the swat and there was nothing about it that was pleasurable to me. However, there was a brief moment when the endorphins throbbed a little and took away the pain and I was thankful for that. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even tell Pod that I had been punished because I was ashamed of what had happened.

I don’t want to give you the impression that I lived like Cinderella, never did anything wrong, and yet I was constantly punished. Most of the time we laughed, played, and lived a fairly mundane life but you aren’t here to read about what cereal we ate or how I scrubbed the toilet so let me skip ahead a few days.