Tara gets the switch

Tara sat on the back porch with pruning shears clipping the stems off the branch then trying to slice off the lateral buds left behind. When she had it as smooth as possible she peeled the touch layer of skin leaving the slightly moist stem. She held it up next to her pinkie and confirmed the branch was slightly wider than her own finger. She put it aside, she heard a lawnmower a few houses away, as it retreated she could hear boys playing basketball on the street in front of the house next door. John was her age, a funny, tall kid and good athlete she heard his voice calling for the ball. The wind shifted and she smelled the freshly mown grass, the lawnmower came closer, its engine drowning out the yells and laughter of the basketball players. She sighed and picked up the second branch and repeated the process of trimming and skinning it. She took the garbage bag and cleaned up the leaves and stems. She ran each branch between her fingers one last time confirming no buds had escaped her attention. Satisfied each switch was as smooth as she was going to get it she picked up the bag, shears, and switches and walked into the kitchen. Her mother was at the stove stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce. The aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh basil filled the kitchen. The tomatoes and basil had been grown in the same garden where she’d selected her switches, pruning them from the peach tree. Mom nodded at her and she laid the switches and shears on the table and put the bag in the garbage. Mom took the large wooden spoon out of the sauce and laid it on the spoon rest sparing the counter. Tara never thought she would wish she was going to be spanked with the wooden spoon but today she did. Mom wiped her hands on her apron and examined the switches she held each one up to her own pinkie ensuring it was as thick as ordered. Mom nodded her approval and swished each of them through the air a couple of times the sound sending a shiver down her spine. Then she added water to a large vase and after cutting about a quarter-inch off the bottom of each switch placed them in the vase. Capillary action would cause the water to flow up the switches keeping them supple and adding weight to them. Mom then placed the vase in the corner. “These will be for after dinner. Your father will be home soon - tell your brothers to get cleaned up and come down to dinner.” She passed the message to her two brothers. Her brothers and her father arrived at the table simultaneously. He kissed her and her mother hello and hugged the boys. As he seated himself he noticed the vase and raised an eyebrow in question to Mom. “Mrs. Parker came home from work for lunch unexpectedly and found Emily and her smoking in Emily’s bedroom.” She blushed at the indictment and swirled some spaghetti pointlessly on her plate. Dad’s face reddened and he nodded his understanding.

“No need to explain how upset and disappointed your Mom and I are?” He asked.

“No Dad. I’m sorry.” Her brothers looked at her mouths agape then one caught sight of the vase with the switches brining. He elbowed his brother and directed his attention to the vase.

“Two” he mouthed to his brother.

“I’m going to deal with it after dinner.” Mom said as if answering the boys. Dad looked at the vase then at her and nodded.

“I guess that will cover it.”

“Well, that and a couple of weeks of being grounded,” Mom added. Tara blushed at the additional punishment added to her sentence. A college girl home between semesters being grounded; the humiliation of that was almost worse than the other. Dad nodded his assent.

When everyone had finished eating Tara was relieved of having to clear the table and instead her mother instructed her to get ready for bed and wait in her bedroom. She walked slowly up the stairs. She took a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt from her dresser and retreated to the bathroom. She stripped and examined herself in the mirror. She’d spent several days at the beach and had definite tan lines where her bikini had covered her breasts and bottom. Her legs and torso were brown and the covered area the purest white. She palpated her butt and ran her fingers over her trim thighs for the first time wishing she had a layer of baby fat to provide some protection tonight. She’d run and swam much of the summer and was trim and in the best condition of her life. That made this whole situation even more ridiculous. Why had she accepted the cigarette from Emily? Why? She didn’t smoke - she’d never liked smoking. She certainly didn’t plan on taking it up. She could have smoked cartons while away at school and never have been in any danger of getting caught - much less punished. Why had Emily offered her one? Why had she accepted? Why had Mrs. Parker picked today to come home from work. Why? Had she just gotten tired of being such a good girl? Did she just want to be bad for once? Was that why? Well if so she’d been granted her wish. She was being treated like a bad girl. She just lost two weeks of her vacation to being grounded. Having to make excuses to her friends about why she couldn’t go to the beach, to parties. Could she just tell them the truth? Tell them she was grounded? And there was still tonight to get through. She stepped into the shower, washed and conditioned her hair. She used the luffa to scrub her body and shaved her legs. She stepped out of the shower, dried herself, and stepped into her bikini panties. She felt her nipples stiffen as they brushed the soft cotton of the t-shirt decorated with the name of one of her favorite bands. She placed her dirty laundry in the hamper and retreated to her room. She looked around for something to distract her: a book or magazine but realized it was hopeless. She sat on her bed and waited. She could hear the sounds of the rest of the family doing normal after-dinner things. Her brother’s cell phone ringing, plates clinking in the dishwasher. Her stomach jumped when she heard steps on the stairs but realized it was just her father going to his room to get changed into comfortable clothes - another false alarm when one of her brothers dashed up the stairs. She glanced at the clock - 8:22; it wouldn’t be long now.

Five minutes later she heard her mother’s unmistakable tread on the stairs her door opened and her mother stood in the doorway silhouetted by the hall light. “Are you ready?” Mom asked as if she had the option of declining. Her mouth suddenly dry she just nodded and began to rise from the bed. “I’ll take your cell phone and Ipad. You can have them back in two weeks.” Two weeks completely cut off? How would she survive? She gathered up the devices and placed them in her mother’s outstretched hand. Mom’s tone seemed to soften for just a second. “Ok, hon; let’s go.” Mom stepped aside to let her pass and she walked down the stairs, stomach fluttering her breath shallow, trying not to cry to maintain some dignity at least until it began. They paused when they reached the kitchen as Mom retrieved the switches. She shook them out over the sink and dried them with a dishtowel. Then she measured one at a time and cut them each down to about three feet trimming from the thin end so the business end was even thicker. She saw her brothers, uncharacteristically silent, watching from the family room where they had a baseball game on the TV. Dad just gave her a slight nod, glanced at the screen, and went back to his paper. How many times had she sat there watching one or the other of them being led to the den for a session with Dad’s belt or Mom’s switch? They were punished far more frequently - and usually more severely than she was - but their behavior was worse too. Sometimes she reveled in their pain, other times she felt a modicum of sympathy for them. What were they thinking now? She felt Mom’s hand on her shoulder guiding her into the den. She walked in ahead of Mom and heard the door close behind her. She turned around so they were face to face eyes full of tears and began one desperate plea.

“Mom, please, I’m sorry . . .”

Mom cut her off, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “No. Dad and I have always told you that we wouldn’t tolerate smoking. That as long as you lived here you were forbidden from smoking and there would be the most serious consequences if you did. It is not just you but your brothers I have to think about. I have to show them we are as good as our word - that if they are tempted they know what they’re in for if they smoke. You know you aren’t allowed to smoke. You know what the consequences are. You chose to smoke anyway. Now you need to face the consequences.” Mom laid one switch on the desk and kept one in her hand. “Take off your panties.”

“But, but two?” she implored. Two switches were reserved for the absolutely worst offenses. She’d been switched before but she’d never gotten it with two. Her brothers each had but not her. She’d learned that a double meant Mom switched with one until it was limp and the recipient's bottom and legs were on fire with stinging weals then she started again with a fresh, strong switch and crisscrossed the miscreants’ butt with a second coat of pain. She’d heard her brothers squealing as they were punished. Higher pitched squeals than they emitted when being strapped by dad with his belt. She would hear the belt land on their bare skin and then a yelp. But the switch itself was silent and all she heard through the door when Mom was punishing them was their own whines. She was far too smart and experienced to think she would endure even a moderate licking without crying out. And she knew her chastisement and reaction would soon be all over the neighborhood.

She reached under her shirt and shimmied her panties down over her legs and stepped out of them placing her hand on the back of Dad’s chair to steady herself. She picked up her panties, balled them up, and placed them on the desk. Mom nodded and motioned for her to turn around. She did slowly savoring the last few moments of being pain-free. “Bend over. Put your hands on the chair. Lift your shirt up.” Mom said this as she moved to her left. She did as instructed sucking in a deep breath, tensing, waiting. Mom measured the switch against her bottom lining it up so the end of the switch would land on the meaty - well as meaty as it got - part of her cheek. “I know it’s hard but try not to move - even if you anticipate the stroke coming. You could make me miss and land somewhere it will hurt even more.” Mom landed a couple of tentative taps, adjusted her grip, her stance, and then, SWISH! The branch she had prepared herself bit into her bare bottom a white-hot line of pain. The pain was shocking, like jumping into a frigid lake it literally took her breath away, and then she gasped for air. Mom left the switch embedded in her skin for a second drawing it out toward her scraping as she did so. Then Mom wound up again and landed a second cut just south of the first. She kept her breath this time and let out a high-pitched squeal in reaction to the two strokes. And so it went.


Mom delivered her licks with workmanlike concentration. She switched with the attention a painter would give a wall or a carpenter would to a board. She was carrying out an important task and she treated it with the gravity it deserved. Mom approached punishing her children with the care she attached to cooking their food or tending to their injuries. It was another task of parenthood - an important task. Tara squealed or yelped after each lick and cried in between them. Still, the switching continued. Mom laid the used switch aside and picked up the new one. Mom sucked in a breath and exhaled noisily. She examined the damage she’d already inflicted on her daughter’s behind. The overall redness was punctuated by thin weals and little bites where the end had bitten into her flank. Mom shook her arm out and flexed her fingers. She watched her daughter’s shoulders shudder as she sobbed. Mom fought the urge to let pity get the best of her and steeled herself to continue the punishment. Her Mom had decorated her own bottom and legs with switches more times than she could remember growing up. And, she knew she had never been whipped for the same offense twice. One session was enough to help her resist whatever temptation had earned her a licking. She was determined to make sure that the next time her daughter even thought of lighting a cigarette her bottom would tingle remembering today’s licking. She took one more breath and prepared to finish the punishment. she lined the fresh switch high on her daughter’s tanned thigh.


“Nooo.” Tara pleaded. “Not there Mom. PLEASE!”

The switch cut through the air with an evil whistle and landed right where she’d telegraphed it. “Arrrgh!” the girl cried out in agony. Somehow through the haze of pain, she had another disquieting thought - the marks of the switch on her thighs would be visible if she wore her short denim cut-offs. She wondered if they would fade by the time her confinement was over. Mom tapped a few fractions of an inch lower on her thigh and sizzled another stroke into the tender flesh evoking another cry from the recipient. She repeated this eight more times. Ten licks decorating the backs of her slim legs.


Mom paused and surveyed the girl's bottom now a light shade of red crisscrossed by thin tracks that had appeared as white lines but were now filling in with a deeper red. Mom knew that these were the lines that would make it uncomfortable for the culprit to sit for the next several days. She adjusted the position of the switch and aimed it diagonally across her daughter’s buttocks the wicked end aligned with the very bottom of the curve of her right cheek. When she was satisfied it was properly aligned she delivered the stroke. It intersected with many of the previous tracks cutting diagonally across the parallel marks left from the first coat of pain. The end of the switch continued its forward motion as its body found its motion interrupted by the meat of the girl's buttocks. The body of the switch pressed as far as physics allowed it to embed itself and compress layers of skin beneath it. The tip continued and centrifugal force made it bend around embedding itself in the soft underbelly of her asscheek. Four more licks like this were delivered. Four times the painful intersection of switch strokes formed. Four times the evil tip bit into the soft underside of her right cheek. The girl was crying, her hips were swaying, her feet stomped out a staccato rhythm of pain.


Mom took a step and a half to her left and aligned the switch with the parallel marks on the girl's left asscheek. Again the tip of the switch hovered over the curve of her buttocks. Tara let out a wail. “Noooo! Pleassse!!” But her mother was undeterred. The only semblance of mercy she showed her daughter was to deliver these five licks slightly more quickly, though with just as much force as those she had laid on to the right side. Drawing the switch out from the fifth slice into her right cheek Mom observed her daughter. Her trim brown thighs were decorated with five parallel lines - as her daughter surmised these would be visible if she donned her cut-offs before the marks faded - as her mother intended. Mom’s eyes worked their way up to the punished girl's bottom. It was now a dark shade of red with the griddle pattern of intersecting tracks. She knew that right now it burned and ached and stung all at the same time. She knew her daughter wanted nothing more than to reach back, grab both of her bare buttocks in her hand and do a war dance around the room. Mom knew that any thought of maintaining her dignity stifling her cries so her brothers wouldn’t hear them and report them to all of their friends, had long fled her mind which was consumed with the pain her burning, aching buttocks was tending to it. But, mom wouldn’t give her even that little solace. She put the switch down, though it could have administered another 10 or 15 licks before becoming too limp. She ordered her daughter to stand and the girl knew, without being told, to keep her hands at her sides. Mom placed a hand gently on her shoulder and led her to the corner of the den. The corner that was known from when she and her brothers were toddlers as the “naughty corner” and placed her nose in the vertex. Then Mom lifted her T-shirt to examine her bottom. Satisfied she had adequately carried out her maternal duty she finished the chastisement as she had every punishment since they were old enough to be spanked: with an admonition not to move until they were summoned punctuated with a firm spank to each bare, aching, cheek.

His Posterior Paddled for Procrastination

Laura sipped her wine as she listened to her friend complain. “I just don’t get it. How can he be so careless?” Sue asked. “Bill is a smart man, has a great job is in charge of a whole division. Why is he such a scatterbrain at home?” Laura started to offer an opinion but Sue continued. “Well, I know one thing. He’s not getting any for two weeks. Last time it was a week but that obviously didn’t work. Maybe his balls being ready to explode will teach him a lesson.”

“But what about you? Won’t you miss it too?” Laura asked. Sue grimaced.

“I will but I don’t know what else to do with him. Three bounced checks in three months? All because he wants to leave the money in the money market to get an extra billionth of a point over the checking account? And he has promised for months, months to put the new curtains up for me. He has a workroom to make Bob Villas green with envy and I can’t get him to hang some curtains?” Sue’s eyes narrowed as she spoke. Laura was afraid Sue was getting mad at her.

“I wasn’t defending him. Just pointing out the downside of your plan.”

“I know honey. I’ll miss it but I do have my little friend.” Sue did her best Pacino impersonation.

Laura would have blushed at that much information from almost anyone else in the world but she and Sue had been roommates in college and there weren’t many intimate details that college roommates didn’t know about each other.

“Men can be so childish.” Laura commiserated. “It doesn’t seem fair though, I mean in a way you are being punished for his misbehavior. I have known you a long time and I know how much you love sex.”

Sue signaled the waiter for two more wines. “But I have to teach him a lesson. He has to become more responsible.”

Laura took a deep breath. “You know.” She took a swallow of her wine. “You sound like a mother complaining about a child’s misbehavior.”

Sue nodded. “Yep. that is how he acts, like an irresponsible child.”

Laura took another sip of wine. “Then maybe that is the way you should treat him. Like a naughty boy.”

“I am, in a way. He’s grounded, he doesn’t get to play with his favorite toy.” She moved her hands down her body like a model vamping a gown.

“There are, or were, other forms of punishment you know.” Laura’s voice was husky as she said this. She hesitated. “Remember Tony? My boyfriend for a few months last year? “ Susan nodded. “He had a horrible habit of being late. Remember how late we were for Karen’s wedding?”

“Yeah and it was like a cold front hit the room when you two finally did sit down. You tortured him, but the nice girl you are you finally thawed. By the cake cutting, you two were little love birds again.”

“I didn’t thaw for no reason. He begged me to ease up on him. And, I told him I would; on one condition.”

“You get to grab him by his ears and make him please you?”

“Not exactly. I told him when we got back to my place I was going to give him a spanking.”

Susan nearly spit her wine out her nose. “You a dominatrix? Do you have a leather catsuit I don’t know about?”

Laura shook her head. “I’m not a dominatrix. I was just fed up with his childish behavior. But, being pissed at him during the wedding was spoiling my night too. I wanted to teach him a lesson but I didn’t deserve to have my night ruined. So I gave him the ultimatum, he agreed and we both enjoyed the rest of the reception.”

“And when you got home?”

Laura sat back in her chair a smile spreading across her face. “I paddled his butt till it was fire engine red.”

“You spanked that big Italian guy? He looked like he had muscles on his muscles.”

“He did and his ass was as hard as the weights he lifts. After about ten spanks I knew I needed a ‘little friend’” she said, miming Susan. “I think my hand hurt more than his ass. I made him go get my ruler. Do you know the one, made out of Lexan, about three inches wide?”

“And he did? He let you spank him?”

“Tony had his faults but he is a man of his word. I told him at the wedding that is what it would take for me to stop being bitchy and he agreed.”

“How did you do it?”
“Just like he was a naughty boy, I sat in my chair, he took off his pants and laid over my lap and I wore his ass out with that ruler. We dated another three months after that and he was only late once.”

“And did you . . .”

Laura nodded. “I didn’t even have to bring it up. As soon as he arrived he gave me a kiss and said ‘I know, I’m late, I’ll take my punishment when we get back.’ I teased him all night that he was getting a spanking. One time I think the waitress might have overheard me. His face turned as red as his ass after a spanking.” Laura laughed at the memory and shifted in her seat, despite not being a dominatrix the memory of his hard white ass turning redder and redder as the ruler did its job did have an effect on her.

“So you think I should spank Bill?”

“Maybe. I bet it would be better for you than being celibate for two weeks. And, as you said, you tried cutting him off before and it didn’t correct his behavior.”

“What would I use? He might not be the stud Tony was but he does work out and I don’t think my hand would make much of an impression.”

“Find something in your house. My Mom smacked my butt with a wooden spoon a couple of times growing up. That stung.”

“I got it once with Mom’s hairbrush. I bet my hairbrush would do a good job.” Susan took a long sip of her wine and focused on something far away, she took another sip and reached out and patted Laura’s hand. “Thank you. I’m going to try it.”


When Susan got home she retrieved the notice from the bank and put it on the dining room table. Then she pulled the curtain rods from the hall closet and leaned them against a chair. Finally, she placed her wooden hairbrush on the table next to the letter from the bank. She’d always dealt with conflict by withdrawing, becoming cool, and uncommunicative.

She found her mouth was dry, anxious about confronting him. The sight of the letter and the unhung curtain rods strengthened her resolve. She undoubtedly was in the right, the proof was right there on the table, along with the consequence. She picked up her hairbrush and imagined it smacking her husband’s bare ass and a grin spread across her face. She found herself excited, aroused a the thought. She poured herself a glass of wine and left the bottle on the table.

Bill walked in about 30 minutes later came up and gave her a kiss. He glanced at the items on the table but then reached for the wine.

“Not so fast Mister.” She’d rehearsed what she’d say to get his attention. He turned to her an amused, quizzical look on his face. He apparently thought she was joking. She pointed at a chair.

“Sit down. We need to talk.”

Whether it was her tone or the look on her face he appeared to realize she wasn’t kidding. He sat and looked at her. She slid the notice from the bank to him, crossed her right leg over her left, and let her high heel dangle. He read the letter and looked back up at her.

“I’m sorry hon. I meant to move the money over it must have slipped my mind.”

“Just like these slipped your mind?” She picked up one of the curtain rods and slid it across the table at him.

“Honey, easy, calm down. I told you I’d get to them.”

‘Calm down’ was like waving a red flag at a bull.

“Calm down? You’ll get to them? When? A few months from now? You were ‘going to move the money over.’ When? After you cost us more late fees.?” She stood up. “This nonsense stops now. You are going to learn that actions and inactions have consequences. If you want to act like a little boy who can’t finish his projects on time, who procrastinates and misses deadlines that is exactly how I will treat you.” She picked up the hairbrush and felt herself getting excited. The conflict caused adrenaline to course through her body but there was something else, her nipples were hardening and she felt her tummy tighten and the lips of her vagina moistening. Her face was flushed but she looked him right in the eye. He looked surprised and confused. He clearly wasn’t used to her acting this way.

“Bill, come here. I am going to spank you.” He shook his head.

“Are you nuts?” Her eyes widened. She needed to calm down, she was nuts. Oh no, he wasn’t turning this on her. She took a breath.

“Bill, I’ve put up with your nonsense since we’ve been married; since we’ve been dating. I’ve kept a lot of things in. I try to make this a happy home. But, I’ve had it. If you want us to be happy things have to change and they are going to start changing right now. I am going to punish you for your misbehavior.”

“You made your point. I’ll get my tools and hang the curtains right now. Before dinner.” He stood.

“Yes. you will but after you’ve taken your punishment.” He bent over in front of her and stuck his butt out.

“If it will make you feel better go ahead and give me a whack,” he said with a chuckle.

“It is not about me feeling better, it is about you doing better. And I’m not ‘giving you a whack.’ I am giving you a spanking. It is going to hurt enough to make you not want another one.” Bill stood up and faced her.

“And if I say no?” But his voice had lost some of its joviality. She arched an eyebrow and placed a hand on her hip.

“We both know I have other ways of making you miserable. This is short and to the point. You take your punishment and hang the curtains and we can have a nice dinner and a pleasant evening. If you disobey me . . .” She decided to let him fill in the blanks on his own. They stood looking at each other for what seemed like a long time. She didn’t break. She kept a neutral look on her face and maintained eye contact. He looked her up and down, she was still dressed from her lunch, short skirt, heels, her smooth toned legs tan and bare, a loose blouse that just hinted at the bosom beneath. She knew she looked good.

“Is this really necessary?” He asked.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Sensing his capitulation she sat in the chair. “Take off your pants.” He stripped them off and she beckoned him over with a crooked finger. He stepped closer and she pulled his briefs down to his ankles. She saw that this was having some effect on Bill as well, his cock was at half-mast it bobbed a little up and down seemingly unsure if it should go to full erection. She patted her lap. “Get over my knee.” Saying those words had an effect on her and she felt herself become more aroused. Bill positioned himself over her lap, she opened her legs to accommodate his cock which hardened as it glided across her thigh. She pulled him closer with her left arm and rested the back of the brush against his right cheek. Without warning, she lifted the brush and brought it down low on the right side of his ass. It landed with a CRACK that startled her.

“Ow!” Bill yelled out, adding in a surprised voice “That hurt.”

“I guess I am doing it right then.” Susan smacked his left butt with the brush, Bill was apparently mentally prepared for this one and responded with just a grunt. Laura had told her that she didn’t count the spanks when she punished Tony, she just spanked until she decided it was enough to teach him a lesson. Susan decided to do the same. She didn’t swing with all of her strength but she spanked hard enough to see the hairbrush sink into the meat of his ass. She alternated her spanks between his left and right cheeks which turned first pink, then red, and finally a darker red. Bill was squirming on her lap now. He kept his hands on the floor but his hips were bucking and gyrating after each spank. His once semi-rigid cock had withered due to the assault on his ass. She became more aroused as she punished her husband. The crotch of her panties was noticeably damp. She tightened her grip and gave him five slow hard spanks all on his left cheek. This caused him to emit a few “Ows.” Then she finished with five deliberate whacks to his right side. He was clenching and unclenching his cheeks furiously now, turning her on even more. She put the brush down and cupped his right cheek. She was shocked at the heat coming off his skin. She ran her soft hand over his punished posterior. “You took your punishment well. Stand up.” He stood and looked at her wide-eyed.

“You really laid it on.” He held one hand demurely in front of his crotch while the other explored his damaged derriere. Her face felt flushed and she wondered if he thought it was from the exertion of spanking him or if he detected her excitement.

“Don’t forget that was for two offenses; the bounced check and not hanging the curtains. I assumed you would prefer one longer spanking to two shorter ones.” He nodded at her logic. “Go ahead and hang the curtains.” Bill reached for his briefs.” No. I want to watch you do it with that red hiney on display.” He hesitated but then acquiesced and dropped the briefs. She sat back in her chair and watched as he perched on the step ladder measuring, drilling, and screwing the brackets into the wall. Her hand drifted to her crotch and she pressed her mons through the fabric of her skirt, stopping when she saw him stepping down from the ladder. She retrieved his briefs and held them out to him leaning in for a kiss. “See? You hung the curtains in less time than it took me to give you a spanking.”

“You’re right honey, I’m sorry. I should have hung them sooner.” She squeezed his butt, earning a pained grimace as she gave him another kiss.

“Good boy. You get changed while I cook dinner.”
They enjoyed their meal, finishing the bottle of wine she had opened. They capped the night off in bed where he started by licking her still wet pussy and they ended up climaxing together, he buried deep inside her while she dug her nails into his still hot ass.


The next morning Susan sent a text message to Laura “Guess who got her curtains hung last night?”

Laura responded, “Did you . . .?”

Susan wrote back “Yes, thanks for the tip.” And ended the exchange with a devil smiley face emoji.