Spanking Samantha (Chapter 11, F/F)

Previously on “Spanking Samantha”:

Kim tries to apologize to Ellie.

Heather tells Kim about Ellie’s profitable work-at-home business. “I have half a mind to spank you myself.”

The sisters agree to be roommates when Bill files for divorce. Samantha’s carelessness and a smart remark earn her a couple of swats on her size 6 panties. Time for a Bare Bottom Barbecue! We’re havin’ biscuits and red-eye gravy.

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Samantha waved her 3-inch spectator pumps in the air as her undies were being peeled back. “No! Don’t!” The crumpled pin-striped slacks made a round trip over her swinging calves and came to rest in a heap at the crook of the knees.

Such a shame to get such nice fabric all wrinkled, don’t you think?

And there’s still some purple left over from that session with the hairbrush. See? Right there – just above that tan line. Ouch!

Oh well. Some people have a little trouble adapting to change.

“Ginger! Don’t! I’m sorry!”

Save your breath.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SPANK! WHACK! SMACK!

There’s really nothing to discuss when an errant miss’s trip-to-the-couch speech includes “Wait…I shouldn’t have said that”. She already knows what this is all about.

That bottom’s jiggling under each spank, John. Those are some hard swats.

She deserves it, Al. Look! She’s up on her elbows, pressing against Ginger’s hold. That shows she’s starting to feel it.

Right. You can tell there’s some growing distress when the legs go rigid. See? She held that left calf in position at about 20 or 30 degrees through half a dozen smacks.

Yeah, and here comes the first apology. Hear that long descending O-W-W-W-w-w-w-w? That means she knows she’s gonna have to do better. That first apology never works, even if it’s sincere.

There’s still a long way to go in this one, John.

Oh! There goes the first shoe. See? BOOM! It’s under the chair.

I think the kicking game is going to be a big part of this matchup.

“Ah … Ow … Ginger … Stop … Aaah … Please … “

“Tell me, Sam … Do you … know why … you’re … getting … a spanking?”

“Yes! Ow!”

“Explain it … to me … would you?”

“I should … aah! a-a-ah! … I should … ow! … be more careful.”

“Go on.”

“I shouldn’t … I shouldn’t have … ow! … I shouldn’t have OW! thrown … ahhh! … the keys.”

“Where?”

“Ow … on your table … the desk … “

“And why is that, Sam?”

“Because … ow … stop … ow … because I could hurt it …”

“And did you hurt it?”

“Yes. Ow! I scratched it. I’m … aah! … I’m sorry.”

“And what else?”

“Um … ow! … um … um … OW OW OW OW OW!”

“Because it’s not yours?”

“Yes … It’s not mine. It’s yours. OW! It doesn’t … it doesn’t … ow … belong to me …”

“Is it just the desk?”

“No … No it’s not … OW-W-W-W-W! It’s everything … I’ll be careful with … everything.”

“Especially after you’ve been drinking?”

“Yes. Please!”

“You’ll respect my things?”

“Yes. I promise …. ow … I will.”

“And me?”

“Yes. And you … I’ll respect you … ow!”

“If I ask you … to turn the TV down … when I’m trying to sleep … what will you do?”

“Ow! Turn it down! … I’ll turn it right down … Ow … Ginger …”

“Right away?”

“Yes. Right away.”

“With no backtalk.”

“Ow … Yes … No backtalk.”

“No GET A LIFE?” SPANK! SMACK!

“Right … Ow … Stop … Ow …”

“I said you’d been drinking … and you told me … to get a life! … Didn’t you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry … Please … OW-W-w-w-w!”

“You have … quite … a smart mouth. … Don’t you? … Hmm?”

Ginger let go, and Samantha collapsed, demolished, onto the carpet.

What a mess! The bed-head hair, the wrinkled blouse, the torn lace edge of the panties, the jumbled slacks. One black pump hanging from one big toe. Bloodshot eyes, tear-stained cheeks, snotty nose, trembling lips. She rubbed her beestung butt with both hands, moaning and sobbing in a fetal position.

Ginger went to the kitchen and soaped up a clean sponge with a sudsy squirt of Ivory liquid. She returned with a handkerchief.

“Here. Blow your nose. Then we’ll clean up that smart mouth.”

Ginger shoved the soft sponge all the way in. Samantha mmphed and gagged and coughed and mmphed.

“Keep that in while I write up your final exam.”

“Mmph. Cough! Mmph!

“And don’t even think about spitting it out.” WHACK!

Ginger went to the kitchen and took out a yellow pad. She wrote down the outline for her sister’s essay test.

“I got a spanking because I

__________________________________________________

__________________________________________________

__________________________________________________

__________________________________________________

__________________________________________________”

She turned the page.

“List ten examples of other behavior that is also unacceptable here.”

She numbered 1 through 10 and turned the page.

“Draw a picture of what your bottom will look like if you misbehave again.”

Next page.

On the eighth page, she wrote “What will happen immediately if you are ever careless or thoughtless or smart-mouthed again? (TWENTY WORD MINIMUM) Repeat your answer over and over until you are given permission to stop.”

She removed the sponge from Samantha’s mouth. “Get up.” Samantha wiped soap from her lips and spit out what she could.

Ginger tugged Samantha by the arm to the glass-topped breakfast table and plopped her bare-assed onto the round vinyl cushion of the metal-backed chair.

“Here. Write out your answers. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As she turned into the dining room, Ginger whipped the belt out from her jeans, doubled it up, and cracked it against the door jamb. WHAP!

Samantha jumped an inch off the sticky vinyl.

“And do a good job, Sammie.”

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While Samantha was sobbing in terror and writing “If I ever ever ever act carelessly or show disrespect to Ginger again I will get another hard spanking on my bare bottom” forty – fifty – sixty times, Molly was hitting the Send button on her twentieth happy e-mail to Joshua.

“See you in half an hour.

Love,
Moll”

Spell-check. Wait – not “Love”. Click!

I mean, he was wonderful!

He writes me all the time, he’s funny, he wants to play spanking games like he’s the professor or I’m his wife and I forgot to pick up the kids, but he’s not weird, and he seems cool!

“If I ever ever ever act carelessly or show disrespect to Ginger again I will get another hard spanking on my bare bottom.”

And I finally give him my cell number and he calls, but he’s normal, and he doesn’t call after 11, and he doesn’t bug me at work…

“If I ever ever ever act carelessly or show disrespect to Ginger again I will get another hard spanking on my bare bottom.”

And so … he wants to get together! Like dinner! Like now! Like get dressed! God, if that picture he sent from his brother’s cookout is what he really looks like… Whew! No… No… This one? Too sexy. This? No, too last year. Ooh! Perfect! The slit skirt goes with these shoes, and I’ve got a bag that’s okay with it… No wait. The skirt’s too long. Oh, the hell with it. I’m not gonna
let him in my pants on the first date. Elijah, get out of here!

“If I ever ever ever act carelessly or show disrespect to Ginger again I will get another hard spanking on my bare bottom.”

Just in case, Molly made sure she had taxi money. She wiped away an errant bit of lip gloss.

Okay, Josh! Here we go!

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After fifteen minutes, Ginger returned to the kitchen.

“Okay, Sam. Let me see what you’ve written. Go rinse your mouth out.”

She flipped through the yellow pad while Samantha stood swishing and gargling at the sink. Everything looked fine. Nothing smart hidden away on the fifth page of “If I ever ever ever…” Reasonably thoughtful answers, given Sam’s heightened anxiety.

The “my next spanking” drawing caught Ginger’s attention. She had expected a simple line-sketch of two well-marked moons, perhaps surrounded by a sunburst indicating pain or brightness.

Instead, her artistically talented sister had drawn a rear-view full-body pose. She was bent slightly forward at the waist, with realistically mussed hair, a wrinkled white blouse, and dark panties tangled at the feet around white ankle socks. A mid-length plaid skirt lay on the floor next to a pair of saddle shoes and a school report card littered with bold F’s. A teary face pouted across the left shoulder. Long manicured fingers, which might have been resting on the knees, instead reached back to hold apart two splotched butt cheeks and reveal a bushy clump of dark pubic hair. The wristwatch read twenty minutes to four, for God’s sake!

Samantha coughed twice and waited for the verdict. When it came, her shoulders slumped.

“Okay, Sam. Go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’ve laid out your pajamas.”

Sam’s face said, “But Mom! It’s only nine o’clock.”

“Naughty girls go straight to bed after a spanking. Now go! Shoo! I want you in bed in three minutes.”

Samantha picked up the clothing strewn around the living room and trudged up the stairs.

Three minutes later, Ginger appeared at the darkened doorway to find Sam dutifully nestled under the covers in the same pastel teddy-bear jammies she had worn for her last spanking.

Ginger sat on the edge of the bed, switched on the lamp on the night stand, and laid a palm between her sister’s shoulder blades.

“I know you want me to comfort you, Sam.”

“I’m sorry. (sniff) I’ll be good. You’ll see.”

“I hope so. Did you wash your hands and face?”

“Uh huh. And brushed my teeth.”

“Good. Did you remember how we leave the toilet seat?”

“Uh huh. I left the lid up.”

“That’s a good girl.”

Ginger flipped the lamp switch and sat stroking Sam’s hair in the thin angle of light from the hallway.

The intervals between sad short snuffles grew longer. After two minutes, Sam was nearly asleep.

“I’ll bring you some juice in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have plans for tomorrow? It’s Saturday.”

“I have a campaign appearance at noon. Can I go? It’s at the Women’s Career Fair. Downtown.”

“How long will it be?”

“About a half hour. Then let’s go shopping and have lunch.”

“We’ll see about the shopping. Get some sleep.”

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Ginger pulled the Roman shades open at eight o’clock the next morning.

“Up you go, sleepyhead. It’s a nice sunny day.”

Samantha rubbed her eyes. “It’s bright! Good morning.” She winced when she pulled herself up to a sitting position.

“Have some orange juice.”

“Thank you. What’s for breakfast?”

“It’s your turn. Remember? I did it last week.”

“Right. Do we have cream cheese?”

“Go take a look. It’s on the door if there’s any left.”

“I have to pee.”

Samantha put on her bathrobe and went off to make breakfast.

Ginger showered and appeared in the kitchen just as Samantha was setting out coffee and plates of toasted bagels with scrambled eggs.

“Looks good, Sam.”

“I’m hungry. I didn’t eat last night. You’re all dressed up, aren’t you? Have I seen that dress?”

“Maybe. I’ve had it since… right after last Christmas, I guess. I thought I’d go with you to that Career Fair.”

“To look for a job?”

“No. To show support for my sister. Even though I usually vote Democratic.”

“Oh good. I’ll introduce you. Then can we go shopping or something?”

“Well, that’s the ‘we’ll see’ part.” Ginger got up and returned to the table with the yellow pad. “Remember this?”

“Yes. How could I forget?”

“Good. We’re going to have a little chat. If you remember what last night was all about, we can go shopping. Or go to the botanic garden. Whatever you’d like.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m sure you will. But if you don’t, you’re grounded for a week.”

“Ginger!”

“You can still do your campaign appearances and whatever else you need to do for the election. And go to work, of course. But otherwise, it’s right back home and into your bedroom.”

“Not even TV?”

“Into your bedroom. And doing your share of the housework.”

“A whole week? That’s not fai-ai-air.”

“What did we say about whining and backtalk, Samantha?”

Sam pouted.

“Well?”

“That I’d get a spanking.”

“Do you want another spanking?”

“No.”

“All right then.”

“I’m supposed to meet with my lawyer.”

“That’s fine. You let me know what your schedule is, and I’ll expect you back promptly afterwards.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you want to finish eating first?”

“Let’s get it over with.”

“Okay, but your food will get cold. Tell me, what are three things – three of the unacceptable behaviors – that would earn you another trip across my knee?”

“Leaving dirty dishes in the sink, being late when it’s my turn to make dinner, and … um … does not being polite count?”

“Well, being respectful is important, but what’s one of the specific bad behaviors we don’t allow here?”

“Um … just changing the channel on my own without asking first if it’s okay with you?”

“If I’m watching too. Yes. And when will you get spanked if you misbehave again?”

“Right away.”

“Immediately. Say it.”

“Immediately.”

“Good. And what’s this drawing about?”

“Um, how I’ll look if you have to punish me again.”

“If you misbehave.”

“If I misbehave.”

“You’re quite the artist.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so.”

“What do I mean?”

“The clothes. Like a little girl.”

“Mm-hmm. And what else?”

“Pulling myself apart to show my pussy.”

“What’s that about?”

Samantha squirmed a bit and stared at half a bagel. “It’s how I felt.”

“After a spanking.”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel that way now?”

“No.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Sorry.”

Ginger handed Sam a pencil. “Show me.”

Samantha sketched a pajama-clad woman about her height, with hair like hers, sitting in the corner on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Do you like feeling like this?”

“No.”

“Do you think you can behave yourself from now on?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Finish your eggs and go get ready. I’ll clean up.”

“Are we done? I mean… You know. Did I do okay?”

“Yes, sweetie.” Ginger offered a sweet kiss on the forehead. “Finish up.”

“Can we just go to the park for a walk this afternoon? I don’t feel like shopping. It’s too nice out.”

“Sure. Maybe we’ll feed the ducks.”

“Like we used to. Remember?”

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Next on “Spanking Samantha”:

“Pipe down, Molly! Come on! You’ll wake up the neighbors.”

“So? They’ve
never heard fucking before?”

“Molly, shush! I mean it.”

Oh! And Heather spanks Kim. Not too hard. Just enough.

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