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Part 1

Yes, I should have been a little wary of my sister’s enthusiasm – but as anyone who wants or needs a spanking knows, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth!  And the shiver that her word ‘hairbrush’ gave me was much more excitement than dread (oh, how that would change)!  My mother had used the hairbrush – rarely but very effectively – on both of us as late as high school, and the few intervening years had not caused me to forget.

Already naked, moments later I was locked down over Brianna’s lap – a position we were both quite familiar with (though with my mom, our bottoms might be bare but we always had clothes – or at least pajamas – on).  Thankfully, she started slowly, with her hand – but I wasn’t worried that she wouldn’t ‘do a proper job of it’.  I was almost relieved when she started to really lay it on – it kept my excitement in some kind of check, at least, and my arousal was already at a truly shameful level!  It became an effort to bear it… but I managed…

Until, that is, she picked up the hairbrush.  Rat-a-tat-tat – she made it clear she wasn’t fooling around anymore.  She marched her swats up one side of my bottom and down the other and then back again.  I swear she was spanking every bit as hard as mom ever did, and I was crying every bit as hard as I always did.  But she never once questioned my desire for this, and I did everything I could to resist asking her to stop.

Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, she did stop.  Thank God, I thought.  She rubbed my bottom, which hurt and felt better both at the same time.  She also ran the brush bristles over my reddened flesh, making me shimmy and shake.

Then – then! she raised her hand – with the brush in it – and said “Bethany, do you remember when I was in eleventh grade, what a pest you always were, whenever I had a boy around?’ I was so not expecting this that it barely registered – in fact, I started trying to get up.

That’s when the spanking began.

Part 2

I confessed to my Sister Brianna that I really wanted and needed a spanking.  I wasn’t that surprised that she wasn’t shocked and quickly agreed (maybe a little too quickly).  What was surprising was the kicking, thrashing, bawling hairbrushing she then gave me – a spanking that put our mom’s discipline – infrequent but occasional tearful bare-bottomed blisterings – to shame.

“Sorry if I overdid it,” she told me sincerely (for what it was worth!) “I figured if we were going to do it, I ought to do it right.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be wanting another one anytime soon,” she added, maybe a little more knowingly that she was letting on.

“Not right away,” I conceded.  The fact was, I was already wondering when my bottom would be recovered enough to go again – and what was waiting for me if and when we did.

“Well anytime you want one… anytime.”

“Brianna?  Maybe I should tell you…”

“Tell me?  Yes, you should definitely tell me!  Tell me what?” my sister was all ears.

“What I want, really… I mean, I guess… it would be cool if you could, um, you know… spank me… when you wanted… um, how you wanted.”  There! I’d said it!  My most thrilling, ‘go-to’ fantasy…

“Oh yeah?  And how could I do that?  How would you not be able to just stop me, anytime you weren’t in the mood?”

“Um, well…”  Truth be told, I’d thought about this – thought about this a lot.  If you know what I mean.  “You could, um, be blackmailing me…”

“Ahhh – and then you couldn’t say no!”

This idea coming to life had me so excited, so nervous – in a way, so scared (she had just spanked me so hard and so much that it’d be days before I could sit straight) that I almost felt sick.

She asked, “And what and I supposed to be ‘blackmailing’ you for, Bethany?”

“Well, I was thinking that you could threaten to tell people about the whole spanking thing…”

“So you’d have to be spanked to keep me from telling people that I spank you?”

“Ummm…”  Sounded kind stupid put like that, I guess.

“Tell you what,” Brianna offered, “Let’s let you butt recover and go from there.”

So there we were.

Part 3

“Okay, Bethany – hope you’re ready, ‘cause you’re getting a spanking,” Brianna told me.

Fact was, my brain had been ready for days, but my bottom?  Let’s just say it sure wasn’t ready yesterday…

One other part of me chimed in, going all soft and slick at my older sister’s offer.

“It’s not like you have a choice…” she said, kicking my butterflies – good and bad – into overdrive.  “Out of those clothes – everything off.”

We were home alone so it wasn’t that big of a deal, I wasn’t wearing much, and she wasn’t asking – she was telling.  I dropped them where I stood, pushing my panties down and stepping out of them under her watchful glare.

“Follow me,” she commanded, leading my naked, compliant (and maybe still a tiny bit sore-bottomed) form into my bedroom.  Sitting on the end of my bed she crossed her legs to remove one sandal before setting her foot down and motioning me to her lap.

Instead of over her knee, she made me straddle her left leg and lie with my body on the bed on her left side.  Her right calf slid over the backs of my knees as I dutifully offered my right wrist for her to hold behind my back.

I hadn’t been spanked with a sandal before – wasn’t thrilled with the fact that it had been on the ground, or at least the floor, just before smacking my butt – but I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as Mom’s hairbrush, which is what Brianna had used last time to give me a world-class walloping - that left me sore for a week!  Like last time, she started with her hand, which was nice… and stepped it up a bit, which was exciting…

“I have never seen,” she said as she spanked, “a girl that needed spankings as badly… and as often… as Bethany Nelson.  Bethany Marie Nelson, every time I see you you seem to need another spanking, don’t you?”  It was starting to hurt – which was of no consequence – but I immediately agreed ‘yes, Ma’am.’  Calling her ‘ma’am’ sent a jolt through everything down there – front and back, I mean – and Brie seemed to shiver a little with it as well.  

“Never seen anyone naughtier…” As she started on this theme she picked up the sandal and gave me a good healthy smack with it.  Ow! Hot.  Burn-y.  Lots of sting.  Ow again! “Can’t take my eye off you for a minute… always thinking about spankings when you should be concentrating on something else…”

This charge was totally true and sort of made me panic – the first spanking she gave me definitely took a turn for the worse once she identified a true motive – but that panic is just the sort of thing that fires my arousal.  And unlike being over her lap, jerkily responding to her punishing sandal had me unintentionally humping Brianna’s thigh as I lay straddling it. At least mostly unintentional – I could hardly say I was unaware of the sensations it was providing.  In fact, those sensations were starting to produce a different kind of panic – I was rapidly approaching climax, right there mid-spanking on my sister’s lap!

“I’ll bet if I checked right now…”  

Oh God!  Don’t do that!  “I can’t help it!” I blurted.  “I can’t help what I think!”

“Oh no?” (whap whap whap) “You can’t help that you don’t stop once you start?”(whap whap whap) “You don’t look for” … “know where to find” … “Things that make you”…

That did it.  I was humping my sister’s thigh like an animal, coming explosively, crying with shame.  She must not have expected me to pull my hand away, because she wasn’t holding it very tightly, and in a flash it was burrowing in between my legs, encouraging my climax more and more and more! (so much for shame!)  I did have the decency to bury my head in my other arm, even as my sopping pussy practically waved my guilt in the face of anyone who sought to accuse me.

Brianna switched back to her hand and continued to spank me lightly, every slap sending another jolt throughout my core.  Chest heaving, I continued to cry as she chanted ‘naughty girl, naughty, naughty girl, was there ever a girl naughtier than Bethany?’  At some point the little slaps became pats and then rubbing – my bottom actually was hot and sore – and as she rubbed her thumb would brush past my hair, making me quiver.  Her only comment on this, though, wasn’t ‘sopping girl’ or something even more reproving, just the continued ‘naughty girl’.

At last we untangled, me crawling onto my bed on my belly, my sister rising.  I stuck my face in my pillow, not ready to face her judgment. She didn’t let me off that easily, though, bending over, brushing back a lock of hair and whispering in my ear, “Well, little sis, that performance was certainly worthy of a really true spanking.”  With that she left.

She left my door open but I didn’t care.  Once again my hand burrowed past my panty-less waist, searching for a second, and third, and fourth demonstration proving the truth of her words ringing in my ears.

Part 4

“Well, lil’ Bethany – how’s the bottom?” Brianna asked breezily in the morning, having spanked me most shamefully late in the afternoon the day before.  When I say ‘shamefully’, I’m referring to my behavior – not shameful in the begging and pleading way, but shameful in that the position she had me in, straddling one thigh, her rhythmic slapping of my bottom with a sandal, and her teasing, accusing voice had combined to lead me to a volcanic orgasm while humping her leg (and crying the whole time).

“A whole lot better than last time,” I said, a little smart-alecky – before I remembered that she’d said that my ‘performance’ had earned a ‘real true’ spanking – and that spanking had a pretty high chance of being a lot like ‘last time’ – an epic blistering with our mom’s hairbrush during which she evidenced no shred of the concern she was now expressing.  In fact, I realized too late, she was probably lining up my ‘comeuppance’, as it is referred to.

“It’s pretty sore,” I backpedaled, “Might be a while before I’m ready to go again.”

“Lemme see,” she replied, and it was an order, not a request.  I thought about saying ‘maybe later’ or something but a shiver ran through me and I didn’t dare.  For who-knows-what reason, I wanted to drop my pants and skim down my panties, turning around for my big sister to inspect the damage her spanking had left me with. Fortunately, no damage – I knew, I’d already checked – unfortunately, barely a sign of the spanking which the mere mention of had me ‘buzzing down there’ with renewed excitement.

“Bend,” she said flatly and I put my hands on my knees while she squatted and searched for evidence of her work.  Visible or not, I could still feel it plenty, though she didn’t seem to be finding what she was looking for.  I felt her hand on my bottom, her thumb nearly between my cheeks, and I knew her interest was in more than yesterday’s target.

“Did you climax this morning?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. It was the second time I’d called her ‘ma’am’ and the effect it had on me was profound – and considering Brianna’s position, probably visually obvious to her.  I felt like she laughed silently.

“Once?”

“Um… twice?” I confessed. I assumed that she knew, from spying or hearing, about the four (blush, yes, four) climaxes I’d given myself after the one during my spanking.  (This is why – or part of the reason, at least – she says, fairly, that I’m so naughty and need so much spanking).

“I see…” she said, without further comment on that.

“I owe you a spanking, remember, but it won’t be today,” she added.

I breathed a mental sigh of relief – not today, good, I really am still sore, even if I’m not bruised or anything.  On the other hand, bad that Brianna seems to think that it needs to be ‘taken care of’ as soon as possible, it’s just that she doesn’t have time at the moment. I‘ve just been told that I‘ll be getting another very bad spanking very (very) soon.  Buzzing, flooding, hopefully not dripping, seeing as I’m still standing with my hands on my knees. I straightened up.

“Okay, well, I…” is about as far as I got before I ran out of steam.

“You know what this spanking is for, don’t you?” Brianna asked in a curiously threatening voice.  

Oh God, please, not right now! I thought, What happened to ‘not today’?  “Um, it’s for being very very naughty?” I ventured.

“It’s for climaxing over my knee while getting a spanking!  How naughty is that?”

I hung my head as tears pricked at my eyes.  “So naughty,” I confessed.

“What would people say?”

I mumbled something like ‘I dunno’…

“What would they say – if I told them?”

My head shot up, tears threatening to spill out.  “You can’t! Please don’t!”

“Won’t I?  Oh, won’t I?  Well I’ll tell you what… when I say you need a spanking, you get a spanking – no ifs, ands, or buts – not even a ‘not now’.  Understood? And if you go along every time – every single time – then I won’t tell anybody exactly why you were howling so loud when you were over my knee!”

“Okay…” I whined.

“Is that what you want?”

Whether she meant not telling or having to get spanked whenever she said so, the answer was the same.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, my down-there spasming.  “And… Brianna?  Thank you…”

Part 5

I’m lying in bed… in this case today, but it could have been many times over the last weeks and months or, I’m sure, many times over the future ones.  I was spanked two days ago and it wasn’t too bad… not bad at all… which means tomorrow, probably, or the next day, I’ll be getting another one – a bad one.  Maybe not so bad if it’s tomorrow – if it’s the next day it’ll be one of the ‘heaven help me’ type.

Naked (I will be)… Brianna will tell me to get naked and I’ll strip right away… I’m lying on my tummy with my hand under me… bedroom door is open, I put my face in my pillow but that only helps so much… right now I’m pushing my bottom up, like I’m just asking to be spanked, right now… spanked hard, I bet – like I will be tomorrow, spanked hard with mom’s hairbrush before she gets home from work.