By Louise Vancisic
Saturday morning was chore time for the Kim family. Nine year old Jessi’s assigned chores took her about forty minutes and then she was free to play. Eleven year old Cynthia’s agenda however typically took two to three hours. Then she was expected to ask her mother if there was anything else she could do.
Cynthia usually started her chores at 7:30 in the morning so she’d have most of the day for playing or weekend schoolwork. One hot sultry July morning the phone rang shortly after eight. It was Cynthia’s friend Ashley inviting her to join her and her family for a day at the beach. An excited Cynthia could already feel the cool waves splashing into her hot face. “Wait a second ..I’ll go ask my Mom.”
“Of course you may go Cynthia; just as soon as your chores are done.”
“But Mommy, Ashley says that they have to leave by nine. I’ll never finish by then. Couldn’t I do them when I come home? Please Mommy.” Cynthia pleaded hopefully.
Her mother eyed her curtly. “You know the rules young lady. No play till the work is done.”
Tears sprung to Cynthia’s eyes. “Please….Mommy …just this once … please I’ll do extra chores … I promise… please.”
The woman shook her head. “Cynthia, I don’t like having to repeat myself. Tell Ashley thank you but maybe another time.” Mrs. Kim spoke with a tone that suggested no compromise.
Cynthia seemed like she would burst out crying but biting her lower lip she picked up the phone and thanked Ashley. As she put down the phone she glared at her mother. Mrs. Kim ignored the look and just said, almost causally, “alright, let’s get back to work.”
Along the way, Mrs. Kim asked Cynthia to help her fold the laundry. Cynthia pretended she didn’t hear and just went on with her dusting. Her mother repeated the request and this time Cynthia looked up, threw down her dust rag and sarcastically said “sure, why not, I have nothing else to do!
“Cynthia Kim! Are you getting fresh with me?” Joyce Kim’s eyes were blazing. Cynthia checked herself and cast her eyes downward and answered as humbly as she could, “No, Mommy.”
“Young lady, you are really trying my patience. I’m sorry that you missed going with your friend to the beach but your responsibilities take precedence. And I know that you know that. So I suggest you drop that attitude right now or you’ll have much more to be upset about.”
Cynthia accepted that as a threat and decided it would not be in her best interest to push her mother any further. The day slowly dragged along. The more Cynthia thought about her mother keeping her home, the angrier she became inside. She avoided any direct insolence but maintained a stony silence.
All this younger sister Jessi observed and stored for future use.
That evening, as nine o’clock approached the Kim girls were told to prepare for bed. This resurrected Cynthia’s suppressed resentment of the day’s proceedings. For the past two weeks, Cynthia’s grandmother had been staying in her room forcing her to move in with Jessi. To make matters worse, Mrs. Kim had decreed that Cynthia should go to bed at the same time as Jessi so she wouldn’t disturb her.
Just after they’d finished washing up, Jessi cast a remark that made Cynthia explode. Hearing their argument from downstairs Mrs. Kim bounded up the stairs and into the combat zone. Seeing their mother the girls backed away from each other. The expression on her face forecast an imminent spanking. Her fury seemed directed at both girls but quickly shifted in one direction. Her eyes narrowed. Reaching out she placed a tight grip on Cynthia’s arm; dragging her over to a straight backed chair.
“Mommy!” was all Cynthia could nervously stammer out.
“I’ve had it with you today young lady! Pull down your pajama bottoms this instant!”
“But Mommy …Jessi started it..I”
Mrs. Kim just ignored her and reaching forward, yanked down the pajama pants, exposing the girl’s naked bottom. “Don’t you dare blame your little sister! Aren’t you supposed to be the mature one and know better?”
“Ye … yes Mommy … bu … but I ..”
“That’s right Cynthia”, Mrs. Kim cut her off. “You’re supposed to know better but apparently you don’t! So I’m going to remind you how to be a mature and civil young lady,” muttered the woman as she sat down heavily on the chair and pulled the girl over her lap. Frightened, Cynthia begged, “Mommy! Please!”
“You’ve been asking for this all day young lady”, the woman seethed, “and now I’m going to oblige you. Believe me, Miss Cynthia Kim, you won’t be forgetting this spanking anytime soon.” With that, Joyce Kim’s right hand rose high in the air then rapidly descended and found its target. Cynthia gasped.
Younger sister Jessi watched the start of the proceedings with evident satisfaction. A little bedtime entertainment she chuckled to herself. She and her older sister didn’t get along very well and Jessi delighted in seeing Cynthia humiliated in this manner. She especially looked forward to hearing Cynthia cry. It was fun to watch the eleven year old fight first to hold back the tears, and then when that proved too much, try to hold back the sound. But, in the end, the pain would be too much. From time to time, Jessi would venture over to where she could observe Cynthia’s face and smile at the anguished torrents spilling forth from the pre-teen’s eyes.
Though Cynthia had not yet blossomed, she was at the age where she was thinking about big girls things like make-up and bras and boys. Jessi chuckled to herself thinking that her older sister wasn’t having too many grown up thoughts at this moment. Indeed, each time she caught a watery glimpse of the smirking Jessi, Cynthia’s sobs intensified. But having little sister out of sight was no comfort either. For with her legs, reacting to the sting in her rear, pumping up and down, was added the emotional anguish of her humiliating exposure. And experience had taught her that any appeal would be met by reminders that by misbehaving she had forfeited her right to privacy and pronouncements that she should feel embarrassed.
Mrs. Kim viewed embarrassment as an important tool in disciplining Cynthia. On several occasions, Joyce would give her daughter a “warning” by compelling her to pull up her skirt. The modest Cynthia would plead with her mother to spare her having to expose her panties. But her mother’s features would invariably harden and she’d firmly say, “”that’s right, dear. And won’t you just hate that. It might embarrass you enough that you’ll start behaving around here. Now don’t make me ask you again! Pull up your clothes and be quick about it!”
Her lamentations escalating, the poor girl would reach down to her hems and carefully drew up the back until both soft fleshy mounds were on display. Then, tears cascading down her burning cheeks, she’d observe her sister’s eyes wide with delight at her humiliation.
But at this moment, Cynthia was face down with no panties and pain would shortly eclipse embarrassment. The right hand descended crisply onto the bared buttocks. The terrified girl started convulsively, bare feet rapidly kicking up and down in tiny steps and a pained “oooohhhhhhhh” emerged from her trembling lips. Her eyes were now glistening with new tears of woe as she drew in great breaths of air in the forlorn hope of intensifying her fortitude under the biting visits of the maternal palm.
There was an interminable pause, then again Mrs. Kim’s right arm rose, halted in the air several seconds, then swept down. CRACK! The slap flattened the lower summit of the left cheek in the alternate pattern that often characterized Cynthia’s spankings. Mrs. Kim always saw to it that each buttock received its full share of chastisement and over the entire area so that the castigatory heat would be distributed throughout and thus give the culprit the sensation of thorough punishment. Once again Cynthia’s lovely body stiffened and the muscles of her behind seemed to flex spasmodically. A sobbing little gasp was heard.
The next eight were delivered in shorter though by no means rapid intervals. Cynthia’s bottom squirmed convulsively, and she lifted her head, staring straight ahead, her body shivering. New tears could be seen, running slowly down her cheeks, her eyes were very wide and her forehead furrowed as the pain of the spanking began to take dominance over her tender flesh. Pretty legs started to kick and thrust causing her pajama bottoms to start working their way to her knees.
When the Kim’s spanked their older daughter they did so in rounds of six or ten with five to ten second intervals between slaps. This would be followed by a one to three minute pause. The “rest” was long enough for the pain to subside enough that the next round would refresh the suffering. Thus it was common for Cynthia’s reactions to be more vigorous as the next round commenced. Thus it was almost predictable that around the twelfth spank there was a sharp “now you just settle down young lady!” punctuated by a stinger to the back of each thigh. The effect was immediate as Cynthia forced one ankle atop the other to straighten and arrest the movement of her legs.
This maneuver caused the lovely contours of her thighs to tighten. “That’s much better, Cynthia”, her mother said, evidently pleased by her daughter’s swift compliance. But she resumed the spanking, her left palm grasping the girl’s waist more firmly while her right hand rose and fell in a series of six spanks, regularly alternated from left buttock to right, starting at the outer edge of each upper bottom-globe and moving inwardly from there. Cynthia uttered little shrieks, sobbed wetly and with feet still locked together, involuntarily wriggled her hips from side to side.
At eighteen, there ensued a lengthy pause during which the woman calmly studied the girl’s submissive pose; the hands waving uselessly in front, the slender legs dangling and somewhat immodestly separated. Mrs. Kim glanced over at her younger daughter, a slight smile playing on her lips. Jessi did not notice for her eyes fixed to the scene of her sister’s glowing, trembling bottom. She drank in the sight of the older girl’s soft sensitive hillocks oscillating with each smarting visit of the harsh hand.
Cynthia got twenty two smacks for her age and a bonus of three for her earlier surliness. Once the final swats had been applied, the girl bottom remained over the maternal lap, twitching and writhing, but no longer kicking and jolting. With the spanking concluded Joyce understood that she must settle down and just lay there like a good girl. Of course she could cry as much as she wanted. After several minutes she reached down and drew up the pajama bottoms, stopping their ascent at the mid-point of the girl’s thighs. Now the only sounds in the bedroom were the anguished sobs emanating from the completely chastised pre-teen.
Mrs. Kim let her cry it out for a while rather disappointed at its necessity. After another minute, she slid her arm under Cynthia’s body and firmly forced her to her feet. Immediately the girl’s hands sought to soothe her throbbing behind. The mother anticipated the attempt and gently, but firmly, clasped the small hands in hers. Then rising from the chair, Mrs. Kim led the girl toward the corner of the bedroom. When she was in place at the walls’ juncture, she released the child’s hands.
“Twenty minutes in the corner,” Mrs. Kim decreed. “And when your time is up, you will apologize to your sister and ask her to forgive you.” She let the sentence sink in before she turned to address the younger girl. “I’m sorry to have to keep you up Jessi but your sister needed to be spanked and now she needs to do her corner time. Perhaps having to show off her spanked bottom another fifteen minutes will help insure that she learns her lesson.”
“It’s OK Mommy,” Jessi smiled. “If you have stuff you need to do, I can watch her for you. I’ll tell you if she tries to cover up.”
Joyce cast a look of pride at the nine year-old. “Why Jessi, that’s so sweet of you. You look after your big sister and I’ll be back to tuck you both in.”
Naturally that exchange led Cynthia to cry harder. Not only was she the only one punished but now she was at the mercy of her mean-spirited younger sister. To Cynthia’s relief, Jessi contented herself with just gazing at the two soft mounds, blazing in a myriad of colors, the widest, fleshiest area showing a deep, crimson hue. There were also clear red imprints of two smacks applied to the tops of Cynthia’s thighs. Her only regret was that Cynthia’s tear drenched face was turned away from her. She so much enjoyed looking at the expressions of anguish that undoubtedly adorned her sister’s face.
True to schedule, Joyce Kim returned at the prescribed time and led Cynthia over to her sister. “I’m … so … sorry Jessi for shouting at you. And I … I’m sorry for k … k… keeping you up so late. Pl … please accept m … my apology.” The younger girl smiled and promptly gushed her assurance that all was forgiven. The two girls then hugged and kissed and promised to get along better. Cynthia’s feigned remorse did not fool her mother but the girl had acted as required and so she too offered her pardon.
Cynthia took her mother’s suggestion to discard her pajama bottoms. Then, in an equally loving manner to both girls, Joyce Kim tucked them in and kissed them good-night. Jessi listened as Cynthia cried herself to sleep and then shut her eyes for the night.