You May Spank It, Once

By Yu May and Dr Kriege

[Author’s note: this is a “What If” story inspired by the universe and characters of “Saddle Sore.” It doesn’t necessarily occur in canon, but fits well with the spirit of the characters and universe. Think of it as a possible “filler episode.”]

Chapter I

Jayme Schmidt groaned as she lay on her bed. She’d had a splitting headache all day, and had actually been excused from morning chores for once (though Mamma had taken her temperature to confirm she wasn’t faking it). Jayme blinked as she heard muffled noises next door, and guessed her siblings must have completed their morning routine. But there was something odd about the noises from across the hall. Jayme could have sworn she heard the F-word. That was enough to get her to shoot up from her pillow.

Jayme tried to hop out of bed, found her balance was still shaky, and decided to take things more slowly. Creeping out her door, Jayme heard the muffled sounds increase slightly, It wasn’t just one F-word. It was a whole series of them in a row, a high-pitched man’s voice she didn’t recognize. “Oh, fuck me in the–”

The last word cut off, and the muffled noise vanished. Jayme peered skeptically down the halls at her siblings’ rooms. One stood out. Joanne’s door, decorated with ornate gothic stencils and an upside-down silver cross (to represent the martyrdom of Saint Peter), and some jumbled words Jayme couldn’t read, maybe Latin or something.

Here’s one of the neat and not-so-neat things about having siblings: when you play detective, you don’t have to worry about constitutional rights. Without announcing herself, Jayme barged through Joanne’s door, and found Joanne sitting on her bed, crouching over an iPad. Joanne squeaked, her head catching on the cord of her earbud headphones as she thrust the device under the purple blanket. “Jayme? What are you doing? I’m gonna tell on you. You’re gonna get the spanking of your–”

Jayme strode toward Joanne’s bed and ripped aside the blanket, ignoring Joanne’s dainty grip on her wrist. Joanne choked. “–life?” 

Jayme stared at the iPad as she popped out the headphone jack. An animated cartoon was playing, full of strange, monstrous-looking characters. A furry, white, noseless creature with sharp yellow teeth was in the middle of a sentence. “–myself, huh? How about this? I LOVE to suck–”

As Joanne reached to snatch back the iPad, Jayme held it high, well out of Joanne’s reach. A bizarre, winged feline character appeared on screen. “I swear to fuck if you say dicks!”

The furry white character answered. “ –popsicles, ya sicko! Get your mind outta the gutter! …But, you know, dicks too!”

Jayme stared in horror, before quickly lowering the volume. “Joanne, what is this garbage?”

Joanne stepped back, glancing nervously at her bedroom door. “It’s not garbage! It’s…uh…just an interesting character drama.”

A logo blinked on the screen, and Jayme peered at it. “...Hazbin Hotel? Hold on, I’ve heard of this. Isn’t this that Satanic cartoon?”

Joanne waved her hands. “No, no, no! That’s a misconception. See, the plot revolves around angels and demons.”

“Demons? So these weird, thin guys are supposed to be the demons? …Why are they all so pointy?”

“That’s just the art style. It’s sort of an old-timey broadway musical thing. See, the Hazbin Hotel is supposed to be like a rehab program, to help sinners turn over a new leaf. If you think about it, it’s kind of like a Christian story of redemption.”

Ignoring Joanne, Jayme turned the volume up on the iPad as the next episode started to play automatically. A cartoon bad guy roared, “...guess I'll just have to fuck the information outta ya.”

The furry white character from before smiled seductively, “Do your worst...daddy!” 

Then the bad guy started spanking the furry white character, as he moaned with delight. Jayme dropped the iPad. “What the hell, Joanne! Is this porn?”

Joanne caught the iPad and quickly turned it off. “Um…I’m sure whatever that was probably made more sense in context.”

Jayme put her hands on her hips. “Joanne, shame on you! That’s not a show a Christian should be watching!”

Joanne forced a smile as she bit her lip. “Well, Poppa never said I couldn’t watch it!”

Jayme looked Joanne right in the eyes. “Well, did Poppa say you could watch it?”

Joanne shrugged “I…plead the fifth?”

“C’mon, Joanne. You know Mamma and Poppa wouldn’t approve of this smut!” “Hey! It’s not smut! It’s one of the biggest hits in independent animation in history. Anyway, I was going to ask Mom and Dad about it soon, just…wanted to get a feel for what it was all about first.”

Jayme snatched back the iPad, and dangled it high out of Joanne’s reach. “Oh really? Well, then let’s go show them, right now!”

Joanne stiffened. “No! You can’t do that! If you show them, I’m gonna get…I’m gonna…”

As Joanne trailed off, Jayme paused at the door, and turned. “Go on.”

Joanne hung her head. “...I’m gonna get spanked.”

Jayme nodded. “Exactly. You knew what you were doing…hold on, how’d you get past the parental lock on the iPad?”

Joanne suddenly looked proud of herself. “Oh, I overheard Mamma reciting a Proverb about ‘training up a child’ when she unlocked it for you. I figured she was reminding herself of the password, so I looked up the Scripture reference. The password is 226, for Proverbs 22:6.”

“And at no point did you stop and think, huh, maybe I shouldn’t be using my knowledge of the Bible to hack into the iPad we use for homework so I can watch a devil cartoon?”

“That’s not hacking, Jayme.”

As Jayme felt her head ache, she sighed, and handed the iPad back to Joanne. “You know what? I’m not going to tattle on you.”

Joanne beamed, and held the iPad tight against her chest. “You’re not?”

Jayme grimaced, then started to turn, clutching her skull. “Nope. You’re going to tell them. I’m going back to bed.”

Just as Jayme was about to leave, Joanne stopped her. “But I can’t tell them, Jayme, they’re out. You’re watching the house today, remember?”

Jayme blinked, struggling to focus. The room seemed to be swimming around her thanks to her throbbing head. “Ugh…what? Then, you’ll just have to wait until they get back.”

Joanne shook her head. “No, you’re responsible for me today. Look, Jayme, I’m on thin ice. If you make me tell Poppa about this….I’m definitely getting a trip to the woodshed. Can’t you just give me the spanking instead, and get it over with?”

Jayme rubbed her temples, and the pounding in her brain subsided slightly. “Sp-spank you? Me? But I’m not allowed to spank you anymore. Not after last time.”

Joanne held up a finger. “You only got in trouble last time because I raised a stink about it. But this time, you’ve got me dead to rights. I’m pleading guilty. If you agree I need a spanking, and I agree I need a spanking, and you’re in charge of me, then what’s the issue?”

“The issue is I need permission.”

“But I’m giving you permission, Jayme.” 

“I mean Mom and Dad’s permission, Joanne.”

Joanne smiled mysteriously. “Oh, come on, Jayme…You know you’ve wanted to spank me since we were little.”

Jayme blinked, and when the room finally stopped spinning, she took a good look at Joanne, who was wearing her gothic, black and purple pajamas for lounging around the house tonight. Jayme frowned. “Only because you’ve had it coming the whole time.”

Joanne hung her head, looking ashamed. Suddenly, Jayme remembered every single sibling squabble she and Joanne had had over the years, along with all the spankings that they had earned one another. With a crisp motion, Jayme grabbed Joanne by the wrist, and led her astonished younger sister toward the bed. 

…

Meanwhile, in a cartoony version of hell, the ragtag members of the Hazbin Hotel were having a heated argument, only for their TV to erupt with a burst of static and show two American farm girls on the screen.

“Huh? Saddle Sore? What kind of stupid name for a show is that?” said Husk, the cat-demon.

Angeldust, who was the same white, furry spider-demon Jaybe had seen on the iPad a few minutes before, held his hands together. “Oh! I adore this one! It’s like Little House on the Prairie, but kinky. Some episodes are just wall-to-wall spanking scenes. And it looks like a new spanking scene is just about to start…”

Princess Charlie Morningstar pouted. “Spankings? Aw, the poor girls! I feel so sorry for their cute little bottoms.”

Angeldust pointed at the screen. “Hold it! That’s Joanne? Everyone shut up, I gotta watch this! I’ve been waiting all season for her to finally get the spanking she’s got coming!”

Vaggie stared at the screen passively, her voice monotone. “So, Joanne’s the goth-looking chick? Huh, for a girl who’s about to get her butt spanked, she seems strangely….stoic. I like that.” 

…

Jayme sat on Joanne’s bed. Even while seated, Jayme was roughly at eye-level with her petite younger sister. Joanne’s black bangs flopped down across her eyes as she glanced down. “Wait, you’re starting now? I thought we’d–”

Jayme undid the bunny-ear knot of Joanne’s pajama pants, and tugged them down with a single yank. Joanne’s eyes popped so widely open, not even her bangs could hide her expression. “–wait?”

Jayme raised an eyebrow as she noticed the decoration on Joanne’s panties. They were Teen Titans themed, with the logo for the cartoon and a picture of the dark-cloaked superheroine Raven. The words “Evil Beware, We Have Waffles” were stamped across the back in gothic letters. Joanne quickly tried to hide her panties from view, before Jayme snatched her little sister’s hands away and pulled her forward. “What’s the point? You know you’ve got a spanking coming. Let’s get this rodeo started.”

Joanne flopped down across Jayme’s left leg, before Jayme pinned Joanne firmly into place with her right leg: a leg-lock spanking position. The decorative picture of Raven and the slogan stretched taut as Joanne’s bottom was thrust up high. “Oop! …Um, can’t we talk about the details, first? I mean, sure, I deserve a spanking, but maybe you want to lecture me a bit?”

It suddenly occurred to Jayme that, although she was very familiar with what it felt like to assume this spanking position, she’d never seen it from this perspective before. As Jayme patted Joanne’s petite behind, all she could think about was how much Joanne’s bottom reminded her of a nice, wide-open target at the gun range. Jayme rubbed circles across Joanne’s butt cheeks, smoothing out the wrinkles in the panties. Jayme smiled as she considered how the gentle massage would also wake up the nerve endings across Joanne’s lower bottom, which was slightly exposed beneath the line of the panties. “This is the lecture. You said it yourself, Jo: what you really deserve is a trip to the woodshed for the whooping of your life. But since I’m in charge, I’m letting you off easy: with a stern talking to.”

Jayme raised her arm high, and landed a firm clap across Joanne’s right buttock to punctuate her last sentence. Joane whooped, but she sounded more surprised than pained. Jayme watched a soft, pink mark flush across Joanne’s behind, before it quickly faded. Watching closely, Joanne delivered another swat across Joanne’s left buttock with similar force. 

This time Joanne gasped with a little, “Eep!” before pressing her lips tight together.

Jayme reflected on all the spankings she had received over the years, and had a delightful realization. She knew exactly what those two swats must have felt like: warning shots. The kind of thing Mamma would give Jayme to warn her that she was an inch away from earning a real spanking. 

There had been nothing wimpy about the first two slaps. Jayme had not been unconsciously holding back. But now, she consciously knew she didn’t need to hold back at all.

Jayme was sure that both slaps had stung plenty, but to make an actual impression on Joanne…Jayme would have to put more pep into it.

Joanne exhaled sharply, and started to blabber automatically. “Okay, solid opening pitch. I’d say I’m learning my lesson already. Maybe, like, ten good ones like that, and I’ll be–”

Jayme wound up her arm exactly like a baseball pitcher preparing a fastball, and delivered a resounding spank across Joanne’s right buttock, making sure to follow through. Joanne yowled. “Yow! Okay, that’s definitely hard enough. That’s as hard as Mamma spanks. You don’t have to–”

Jayme experimented with a different swing, bending her elbow tight before shooting her hand forward, to deliver a strike with her open palm across Joanne’s left buttock. It occurred to Jayme her second spank was more like a martial artist jab than the first baseball pitch spank. She relished the strange sensation as she felt the force reverberate through Joanne’s surprisingly firm gluteus maximus. As Jayme considered how she was going to deliver this spanking, a delightful thought filled her mind: “...So many possibilities!”

Joanne yelped, trying to keep her breath steady. “Hoo-ooh! Okay! Point made! You spank harder than Mamma! That’s plenty hard! You don’t have to go all–oooout!”

As the next spank landed, Joanne shouted the last word, before she started to hoot and holler uncontrollably after each blow. “Owwwah! Ahow! Yeow! Yee-aaah!”

Joanne tried to stammer out something, maybe a smart-aleck attempt at gallows-humor, maybe a desperate attempt at a rational argument for clemency, but Jayme didn’t care. All Jayme could hear was the delicious, musical sound of smack…smack…smack!

As Jayme increased the tempo of the spanking, she discovered how to keep a steady rhythm by simple instinct. After years of having her own rear end on the receiving end of a spanking–sometimes struggling defiantly, sometimes laying obediently, but always helpless while her bare bottom simply took everything that Mamma or Pappa had to dish out–Jayme was now realizing just how fun it was to give a spanking. 

And in that moment, Jayme felt a strange rush of gratitude. She was thankful for all the spankings she had received over the years, and thankful that it was finally her turn. 

And as Jayme watched her little sister’s bottom bouncing and jerking beneath the relentless slaps, she saw it slowly flush to a soft rose pink, in sharp contrast with the black panties. Stealing her breath, Jayme uttered a silent prayer. “Thank you, God. Thank you for giving me parents that love me enough to spank me. Thank you for all those spankings I got, so now I know what I have to do. And thank you for giving me Joanne as my little sister. And thank you for giving Joanne this cute, naughty little bottom, and for giving me the chance to spank this cute, naughty little bottom, red and raw. Please God, help me spank her right, right now!”

As Jayme landed the last blow with a sharp pop across the center of Joanne’s bottom, Joanne bucked, her bangs flying wildly as she shook her head. “Argh! Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again!”

Jayme hummed, flashed a cute, satisfied smile, and patted Joanne’s bottom, relishing the ambient heat she felt radiating from it. “Hmm… I believe you. All right, that should do for the warm up.”

Jayme stood Joanne on her feet, and spotted a small sparkle of light as Joanne quickly wiped two small tears away from her eyes. As Joanne stiffened, her eyes flew open wide with dawning comprehension. “Huh? The warm up? That wasn’t it?”

Jayme felt her heart swell. She suddenly felt a fresh wave of love and sympathy for Joanne. She knew exactly what her sister was going through: dread, embarrassment, discomfort. But Jayme also knew her duty, and it was like the universe suddenly made more sense to her. Of course! This was why Mamma and Pappa spanked her all the time. It just felt so right, to know that there was a naughty bottom that needed spanking, and it was your joyful duty to see that it got spanked properly. “Of course not, silly head. Just because I’m showing you mercy, that doesn’t mean I’m letting you off with a few love taps. You know exactly what happens when any of us get a spanking in the privacy of our bed rooms…”

Jayme pinched the sides of Joanne’s Teen Titans panties, and tugged them down. “...We get a spanking right on our bare booties–just like we deserve–for dishonoring our mother and father.”

Joanne squeaked and pulled down the front of her shirt with one hand, covering her exposed rear with her other hand. “Wait! This is going overb–” Reflexively, Jayme snatched Joanne by the wrist with one hand and reached around with her other hand to plant a firm swat on her lower buttocks. Joanne yipped like a puppy, then snarled like a mad dog, twisting her arm to pry loose from Jayme’s grasp. “–Oh, ow! Hey, lemme’ go!”

Jayme stiffened, realizing that she wasn’t much stronger than little Joanne. When they’d taken taekwondo classes together, they’d always been close to a perfect even match in sparring (Jayme was leading with 51 wins to Joanne’s 49). Without knowing why, Jayme scooped Joanne up by the armpits, holding her dangling a few inches above the floor. “Enough. Joanne, you asked for this.”

Joanne stiffened, her fists clenched at her sides. Jayme could tell just by looking at her little sister’s face that Joanne was resisting the temptation to deck her. Jayme kept her face calm, knowing that if Joanne wanted to start a fist-fight, there was nothing she could do to stop it now. Joanne grit her teeth. “But…I didn’t mean…”

“No more buts. And no more hands covering butts. You know the drill. Keep your hands behind your head while I’m talking to you.”

Gently, Jayme set Joanne back down on her feet. To her relief, the little maternal gesture seemed to have worked. Joanne fidgeted, then slowly raised her hands, interlacing her fingers behind her skull. With a start, Joanne pressed her knees together, bowing forward slightly to let the front of her pajama shirt preserve at least a shred of her modesty, before raising her blushing face high to look Jayme in the eye.

Jayme felt a fleeting temptation to laugh at the sight. Joanne’s posture reminded her of being a little girl desperate to use the potty, doing the bathroom dance. But Jayme felt a pang of sympathy for Joanne’s predicament, having been in exactly the same position all too often, so Jayme decided not to make Joanne’s humiliation any worse than it had to be. “That’s more like it. Now, Joanne, what do you and I usually get for a spanking, when Mamma or Pappa have to give us a stern talking to?”

Joanne’s words caught in her throat before she forced herself to answer. “Uh…W-we usually get spanked with an implement, like one of the hand paddles, or a hairbrush.”

“That’s right. And the number of strokes is usually twice our age.”

Joanne shrugged. “Not all the time?”

“Right. Sometimes it’s more, if we show defiance. But for you, since you’re fourteen, the minimum would be twenty-eight good, solid whacks. Isn’t that right, Joanne?”

Joanne forced a nervous smile. “Sure, but maybe you could give me fourteen and call it good, if your arm’s getting tired?”

“My arm is just fine. And we’re not going to ‘call it good.’ I’m giving you the absolute minimum spanking Mamma or Pappa would give you. And when they get home, we’re going to explain the whole situation, and you will tell them exactly why I had to give you a spanking today.”

Joanne blinked twice, before a new look of dread stretched across her face. “T-tell them…why?”

Jayme nodded curtly. “Yup. After you confess everything, maybe, just maybe, Pappa take a look at your backside, and decide I’ve spanked you enough for one day.”

Joanne’s look of horror grew, but now it was mixed with indignation. “But…you sneak! We agreed that if you gave me my spanking, we wouldn’t have to bring this up again.”

Jayme crossed her arms. “I agreed to no such thing. You said you deserved a trip to the woodshed with Pappa, and, in my humble opinion, that’s exactly what you deserve to get. But it’s not up to me. If he decides you’ve been spanked enough, so be it. If he decides you deserve another spanking, so be it. Either way, you’ll get exactly what our father thinks is a fair punishment.”

Narrowing her eyes, Joanne pouted. “I’d never have agreed to let you spank me if I knew that was what you were up to.”

Jayme raised a single index finger. “That’s the problem. Even now, you’re still trying to wriggle your way out of taking accountability. A spanking isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card, it’s supposed to be a just punishment. We can’t just…keep our sins a secret forever, hoping we never get caught.”

Jayme swallowed as she remembered all her secret attempts to spank herself late at night, and all the close-calls. With an effort, Jayme recited one of the Bible verses she’d memorized as a member of the A.W.A.N.A. Christian scouts’ program. “Be sure your sin will find you out.”

Joanne straightened her posture, lifting her chin proudly. “So you’re gonna rat me out.” 

It was a statement, not a question.

Jayme shook her head. “No, I will not. You’re gonna tell Pappa and Mamma what you did, because they deserve to know the truth. You know we can trust them to always be fair, don’t you, Jo?”

Joanne sighed, and for the first time, looked at least a little repentant. “I know that…But if I’ve got to turn myself in anyway, why don’t we call the spanking here? If I’m going to get a trip to the woodshed anyway, isn’t this a bit overkill?”

Jayme smiled. “I thought of that. As much as I think you deserve the woodshed, Joanne, I don’t wish that fate on you. Has it occurred to you that if I tell Pappa I already gave you a good, hard spanking, he’s more likely to say you’ve been punished enough?”

Joanne pouted again, but this time it was more playful than petulant. “I can’t argue with your logic…but I won’t pretend to like it.”

Jayme stood to her full height, towering above Joanne. “Let’s try that again with less sass. Do you have a hairbrush in your dresser?”

Joanne scowled up at Jayme, before hanging her head. “Yes, Jayme.”

Jayme gestured to the dresser, then nudged Joanne’s arms before she could drop her hands to cover her bottom. “Go and fetch it, and keep your hands right where they are until I say otherwise.” 

Joanne glanced down to examine her state of undress. Though the hem of her pajama shirt just barely covered her at the front, Joanne noticed that, thanks to her posture of surrender, the back of her shirt was hiked up at the back, precariously perched above her bottom. Her Raven-themed panties were resting in an inverted triangle just below her bottom, right where Jayme had left them. Joanne fixed Jayme with the unmistakable, angsty teenager look. “May I fix my shirt at least, ma’am?”

Jayme drummed her fingers against her arm, resisting the urge to snatch Joanne and start round two of the spanking immediately. “Nope. Just keep your hands right where they are.”

Joanne pursed her lips as she considered her predicament, then spun around slowly. Just as she finished turning, Joanne hunched her shoulders, and the back of her shirt flopped down to partially cover her exposed, bright pink, full moon. Joanne flashed a minxish look over her shoulder. “Oops. Want me to lower my hands so I can pull my shirt back up for you, ma’am?”

Jayme took a whistling breath through her nose, then repeated her words with more emphasis. “Nope. Just keep your hands right where they are.”

Joanne’s smile faded, and as she tried to step forward, she felt her panties start to slip down, and noticed her pajama pants were bunched around her ankles. Desperately, Joanne pressed her thighs together, taking short, waddling steps forward.

After three steps, Joanne’s panties started to droop, and glided half way down her thighs. Joanne paused, and tried to step out of her pajama pants. She nearly pulled one leg free, before her ankle caught and she stumbled forward a few steps. “Whoops!”

Jayme reached out and caught Joanne around the waist. “Woah. You okay?”

Joanne bit her lip. “I’m fine. Just need to–”

Jayme straightened Joanne up and guided her hands back into the surrender position. “Good. Now keep your hands behind your head.”

Joanne twisted, and glared at Jayme with menace. “May I please just fix my pants? I can’t walk like this.” Now it was Jayme’s turn to smile. “You can walk just fine. Stop worrying about whether I’ll catch a glimpse of your butt. I’m going to be seeing plenty of it in a minute anyway. Just march your butt over to your dresser, like a good girl.”

Gritting her teeth, Joanne marched straight to her dresser, feeling one inside-out pant leg trailing behind her. As Joanne stopped at her dresser, she felt her panties catch around her knees, and knew what an absurd picture she must be presenting to Jayme’s amused gaze. “May I finally lower my hands, ma’am?” Jayme sat back down on the bed, her voice like honey. “Of course. How else are you going to fetch me the hairbrush I’m going to use to bust your butt?”

Joanne thrust open the drawer and snatched up her black, ebony hairbrush. She spun like a soldier and marched back to face Joanne, her pajama pants finally pulling free from her foot, and dragging like a ball chain around the ankle of a prisoner in an old-timey cartoon. Jayme saw Joanne’s lip was quivering, and let the moment hang. 

Finally, Jayme held out a hand. “Hand me the hairbrush, Joanne.”

Joanne thrust it forward, just roughly enough to make it clear she was furious, without crossing over into open defiance. Jayme accepted the hairbrush. “Now, you may remove your pants and panties. Wouldn’t want you to get them tangled up if you start to kick. Fold them neatly beside your bed.”

“Ugh! Can’t we just end this already?”

Jayme slapped the smooth surface of the hairbrush against her palm, sharply enough to produce a crisp clap. “That’s two extra swats you just earned yourself, right there. If you want to get this over with sooner rather than later, then obey, without delay.”

Joanne nodded and bent over to take off her pajama pants. “Okay, just give me a second.”

“Three.”

Joanne glanced up, confused, and saw Jayme holding up three fingers. Then Jayme held up a fourth finger. “Four”

Instantly, Joanne understood. Mamma used this trick all the time if one of the Schmidt siblings tried to delay their inevitable spanking for too long. Every second meant an extra spank. Joanne flipped her bare foot free of the pajama pant leg, then sat to take off her panties. 

Jayme didn’t blink as she held up a fifth finger. “Five.”

Joanne threw aside her panties and started to stumble back up onto her feet. “Okay! I’m going, I’m going!”

Jayme flicked her hand with a sharp snap, and held up a single finger, then a second. “Six….seven”

Joanne suddenly remembered the order to fold her pants and panties, and dove to snatch the discarded clothing back up, folding them neatly.

Jayme wiggled her two fingers, menacingly, before counting three, then four. “Eight….nine…”

Joanne finished folding and stood to attention. “Okay, okay! I’m done!”

Slowly, deliberately, Joanne held up a fourth finger, and then a fifth. “Ten...and, eleven. No, it’s not, ‘okay, okay.’ You just do what you're told, when you’re told to do it, without delay. You know full well what that kind of stunt would get you with Mamma or Pappa. Slow obedience is disobedience. Do you want a trip to the woodshed?”

Joanne shook her head. “No! Please don’t tell Pappa on me!”

“We are well past that point already. If you don’t shape up, I will give you a trip to the woodshed myself, before I tell Pappa you were a pill the whole time I was watching you. Are you ready to fix your attitude?”

Joanne nodded, and reflexively put her hands behind her head. “Yes, Jayme!”

“For the rest of this spanking, let’s stick with, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ and ‘No, ma’am.’ And think very carefully about whether ‘No, ma’am,’ is really the right answer before you try using that one. Are you ready to accept the spanking you know you have coming, Joanne?”

Joanne’s eyes welled up with tears. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jayme gestured with the hairbrush, and glided it up along Joanne’s hip. “Then lift your shirt up at the back, all the way up, and come across my knee.”

Without hesitating, Joanne hoisted up her shirt, and settled down to rest on top of Jayme’s toned left thigh. Joanne’s legs spread helplessly along either side of Jayme’s knee, and Jayme felt with a pang how exposed and vulnerable she’d felt the last time she’d assumed this exact position for a taste of the wooden hairbrush. Jayme spotted a stuffed plushie of a somber looking cartoon cat she vaguely recognized as some video game character, and scooped it up to hand it to Jayme. “Here, hug tight to this little fella. It will give you something to hold onto, rather than try to cover your bottom.”

Joanne looked miserably at the stuffed animal, but clung to it anyway. “Please…I’m sorry…”

Jayme wrapped her arm around Joanne’s waist, and pulled her close against her own waist. “You say that now, Joanne, but you have sinned. You sinned on purpose, knowing it was a sin, and you tried to cover it up…” 

Jayme paused as she remembered her own secret sins, and took a shaky breath, and started stroking the smooth back of the ebony hairbrush across Joanne’s quivering hindquarters. “...But I think you asked for this spanking in the first place because deep down, you know you need it. Isn’t that right?” 

Sniffling, Joanne answered with a voice that was not whiny, but sorrowful. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Jayme nodded, and patted the center of Joanne’s bottom, still a cheerful shade of pink from the last spanking. “But that doesn’t mean I can let you off easy. You were going to get twenty-eight strokes to begin with. Thanks to how you dragged your feet, you’re now getting thirty-nine strokes. Did you know that in the Bible, the maximum sentence for a criminal was forty lashes, minus one? That means if you earn any more strokes…” 

Jayme tapped the hairbrush twice in quick succession, against each buttock in turn. “...I’ll have to pause this spanking to let your bottom recover. Then we’ll pick up right where we left off, and start all over from the beginning, with another hand spanking, and another thirty-nine lashes, only this time, I’m taking you to the woodshed to use Pa’s razor strap. Is that what you want?”

Joanne shook her head meekly, not looking at Jayme. “No, ma’am.”

As Jayme raised the hairbrush high, she noticed Joanne’s buttocks quivering and hesitated, before setting the hairbrush down. “You’re shivering. Let’s say a prayer of supplication together.”

Joanne made a small, whining noise. “Suppah…wuh?”

Jayme stroked Joanne’s backside gently, feeling how the peach fuzz was standing on end. Despite the toasty warmth from the previous spanking, Jaonne’s bottom was still covered in goose pimples. “Supplication. We’ll ask God to help you get through this. I’ll start…Dear Jesus, please help my sister Joanne. I know she has sinned, and fallen short, but I know she wants to do better. Please help this spanking be a lasting reminder for her not to disobey our parents, and help her be brave and take it. And please help me spank her well, just like Mom and Dad would do for me.”

Joanne sniffled, and answered with a long, shuddering whine. Jayme petted Joanne’s bottom. “Anything you’d like to add, Jo?”

“I’m sorry, okay? It was just a cartoon!” 

Jayme delivered a gentle love tap to get Joanne’s attention. “You’re not really sorry if you’re still making excuses.”

Joanne kicked her feet, but she clearly had no hope of breaking loose. It was more a gesture of desperation. “Please don’t spank me…Pleeee-heeeze…”

Frowning, Joanne scooped up the ebony hairbrush, rubbing the cool surface of the wood against Joanne’s tense buttocks. “Nope. We’re well past that point. You’re getting the spanking you have coming no matter what, so why not try to tell God what’s on your heart?”

Joanne twitched as she felt the wooden hairbrush, then lowered her feet. “I…I know watching the cartoon without permission was wrong…I know it was a sin…I’m so sorry, Jayme. I’m just a screw up. The black sheep of the family.” 

Jayme popped the hairbrush across Joannne’s bottom twice, with just enough force to raise a soft tingle. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’re not a screw up, or a black sheep…And even if you were a bit of a black sheep, you know what, I’d still love you, because Jesus still loves you. The Bible says that if a good shepherd loses one little lamb, he will leave the flock to seek the lost lambs and bring them back safe, black or white. That’s us, Joanne. I get spanked all the time, but I know that Jesus will always forgive me, and help me try again.”

Joanne wiped her nose against her arm, her voice cracking slightly, but more clear and steady. “I know that…I just wish I didn’t forget so much…”

Jayme felt Joanne’s whole body go stiff. But as Jayme pressed the flat surface of the hairbrush against Joanne’s tense glutes, and gently rubbed small circles, Jayme felt Joanne finally start to relax. “Why not talk to God about it? The Bible says, ‘Cast thy burdens upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee.’ What would you like to say to him?”

Joanne hugged her plushie, and buried her face into it. “I’m sorry I disobeyed! I’m sorry I tried to hide it! I’m sorry, God! Ah’m saaahreeeee…Puh-please, Jesus, help me s-sit still for my sp-sp-spanking!”

Jayme lifted the hairbrush high, concentrating on her target, visualizing the next stroke, and took a deep, controlled breath. “Amen.” 

Jayme brought down the hairbrush to land a tremendous, resounding thwack, smack across the center of Joanne’s left buttock. As Joanne realized that her true punishment had begun, and she would not be getting off lightly, the unfortunate goth girl roared; and as she strained valiantly against her older sister’s arm, her black bangs flew wildly about her face. “Aaaaaargh!”

But thanks to years of honing herself with horse ranching, Jayme kept Joanne pinned in an iron hold.

After the second stroke of the hairbrush came crashing down across the center of Joanne’s right buttock, she cried just as loudly, but more from melancholy than surprise. “Waaaa-haaaaw!”

Joanne writhed a final time, then flopped down, her head and legs seemingly sinking into a relaxing repose. At precisely that moment, Jayme aimed the third stroke dead center across Joanne’s lower bottom with a pop. Joanne screeched, shrilly, but didn’t struggle.

Jayme was satisfied that she had spanked most of the fight out of her charge, and switched to a steady pattern of one-and-two-and-one-and-two, alternating between left and right buttock. Jayme’s first goal was to make the spanking as uncomfortable as possible, but her second goal was to bring it to an end without further delay. 

As Joanne felt the change in pace, she gave a long, warbling wail, which finally gave way to open sobbing. Jayme aimed the next eighteen whacks all across Joanne’s lower buttocks, keeping a silent count. 

Without skipping a beat, Jayme aimed the next two swats across Joanne’s upper left and right thighs, just below her bottom. Joanne instantly noticed, and squirmed slightly, too tired for any hope of a successful struggle. 

As if on cue, Jayme lifted her knee just as Joanne raised her bottom, and secured her grip on Joanne’s waist. Now that Joanne’s bottom was lifted higher and angled more sharply, her sit-spots–the soft, sensitive skin hidden between buttock and thigh–were no longer protected.

Dimly, Jayme realized that she’d accidentally figured out how to fix Joanne’s pose for the grand finale of the spanking, but there was no time to pause and congratulate herself on her accomplishment. Jayme delivered four sharp blows to Joanne’s pasty white sit spots, then paused, just long enough to watch them flush to a soft, rose pink.

The brief reprieve from the relentless tempo gave Joanne enough time to notice something was different, and snap her out of her uncontrollable crying. As she felt the prickling, tingling sensation start to rise across the fresh, unmarked flesh, Joanne gasped. 

Jayme aimed another two strokes across Joanne’s upper thighs, then paused again, to let Joanne process what was in store for her. Jayme smiled. Joanne was always a smart-ass, but there was no denying she was also smart. Jayme was sure her little sister was picking up the pattern, even in the throes of pain. Two strokes to the upper thighs…followed by four strokes to the delicate sit spots.

As Jayme delivered the next four strokes, she noticed Joanne’s yelps resembled the yips of a newborn puppy. Then Jayme delivered another two strokes across Joanne’s upper thighs, and took in the sight before her. Joanne tried to clench her buttocks, but thanks to how securely she was pinned across Jayme’s knee, the sorrowful, suffering Joanne couldn’t even manage to do that. Joanne hissed, then moaned, and as she lowered her head in defeat, she lifted her bottom high, as if holding it up as a sacrificial offering.

Jayme basked in the sight of Joanne’s bright-red, well-spanked, bare behind lying before her, but as she had expected, Jayme noticed Joanne’s sit spots were not quite the same deep shade of strawberry-red. With a smile, Jayme delivered a final four swats, so that Joanne’s sit spots finally matched the rest of her rear end. Joanne’s screams reached a crescendo, until the thirty-ninth and final spank landed, and she broke down into a fresh wave of incoherent tears. 

Instinctively, Jayme set aside the hairbrush and let Joanne cry long enough to catch a shuddering breath, then lifted Joanne up to face her, still straddled across her knee. “There, there. It’s all over. You took it well, Jo.”

Joanne looked up at Jayme with shimmering, tear-stained cheeks, before she  buried her face against Jayme’s chest, and wept softly. “Shh..shiii-hiiii–”

Jayme tensed, and reached around to pat Joanne’s exposed hindquarters with a sharp, warning love tap. “Hey! No saying the s-word!”

Joanne flinched, then pulled back from the hug. “S-sorry! You’re not…gonna spank me again, are you?”

Jayme sighed, before wrapping her arms around Joanne. “I guess you didn’t finish saying it. But don’t push your luck.”

Joanne shook her head. “Are you kidding? You spank harder than Mamma. Hell, that was almost as bad as a spanking from Poppa.”

“Oh? Maybe if I get a little more practice, I can break Poppa’s record…but I’d rather not. I had no idea giving a spanking could be so exhausting.”

Joanne scowled. “You’re complaining? What, would you enjoy being on the receiving end more?”

Jayme started to answer, but her words caught in her throat. “I do not enjoy—Ahem!—That reminds me…”

Jayme picked Joanne up and set her on her feet in front of her. “Hands up high, above your head.”

With a confused frown, Joanne raised her hands slowly. As Jayme lifted Joanne’s pajama shirt up and over her head, leaving her completely naked, Joanne’s eyes popped open. “Huh? What’s this now?”

Jayme stood to pull the pajama shirt free, and turned to fold it on Joanne’s bed. “I’m putting you in timeout, of course…No, don’t cover yourself. You’re still ‘under arrest’ so hands behind your head again.”

Joanne’s expression was furious, but she nevertheless clasped her hands behind her head. “Is this really necessary? What’s the point of–”

Jayme held up a finger to shush her diminutive sister. “The point is, I’m giving you a moment to reflect on something. You and I are just like Eve, in the Garden of Eden. Just like Eve ate of the forbidden fruit, on purpose, knowing she was disobeying God, today you disobeyed our Mother and our Father, on purpose, knowing exactly what you were doing.”

Joanne pouted, and tried to talk past Jayme’s finger. “Muh’ I said I wa’ sowwy.”  

Jayme glared at Joanne, and tried to imitate the stern tone of voice she remembered Mamma always using during spanking time. “I know you’re sorry now, Joanne, but what about next time? Think you’ll still be sorry by tomorrow, when your butt doesn’t hurt so much?”

Joanne shrugged. “Prob’ly?”

“Let’s hope so. But for today, I want you to think about how, like Adam and Eve, we have sinned. And after Adam and Eve gained the knowledge of Good and Evil, they finally noticed they were naked, and for the first time, they felt shame.”

Jayme pulled her finger away to let Joanne answer, and let the moment hang. 

Finally, Joanne’s eyes grew watery. “So…you want me to feel ashamed…and stay butt-naked?”

“Exactly. When you do something shameful, you should feel ashamed of yourself. So I’m putting you in timeout, clothed just as you are now. Go stand in the corner, Jo, and press your nose against the wall.”

Joanne glanced at the decorative posters that lined her wall, and groaned, before marching to stand in the corner. Finally, she sighed. “...How long’s my corner time?”

Satisfied, Jayme turned and examined the digital alarm clock by Joanne’s bed, and fumbled with the buttons to set it. “As long as I think you need to think everything through. I’ll start a timer, and come to check on you a bit later. Think hard, Jo. Your answers will let me know if the lesson has sunk in properly.”

Joanne gulped, and held her tongue. The emphasis in Jayme’s words made it clear that if the lesson hadn’t sunk in by then, Joanne would be the one sinking into deeper trouble. 

Joane sniffled, and realized her eyes were red and raw from crying. Then she heard Jayme’s voice snap from behind her, like the crack of a whip. “Oh, and Jo? While you’re in time out, there’s one more thing I want you to think hard about.”

Joanne flinched, and twisted to look over her shoulder, expecting to see Jayme looking down on her with cold judgment. But instead, she saw Jayme’s face was peaceful. “No matter how ashamed of yourself you feel right now, I want you to remember that I’ve made exactly the same mistake, plenty of times. But Jesus has paid the full price for our sins. He endured great shame and pain on the cross, so that we can be free from the shame and pain of sin.”

Joanne glanced down at her bottom. “It’s sort of like…he took the spanking I had coming?”

Jayme clasped her hands, trying to remember her Bible history classes. She remembered how, after getting spanked for touching Pappa’s gun safe without permission, she’d asked Pappa if she’d get spanked forever and ever in hell, only for him to comfort her. “Kind of? Or maybe it’s like–we got a bunch of fines for a billion speeding tickets, more than we could ever pay off in a lifetime–and he paid off our debt, or something?”

Joanne nodded. “Yeah…but when we sin, even though we’re forgiven, we still have to get our spankings, don’t we? Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m really thankful Jesus took my punishment, but if he already paid the penalty for our sins…isn’t it weird that we still have to get spanked for our sins?”

Jayme started to nod. “Well, I think that’s called the distinction between temporal punishment, and eternal punishment. I wish Pappa was here, he could explain it better.”

Joanne smiled. “I think I get it. You know, I’ve been thinking about how Jesus died for me a lot more recently. I used to be so angry, all the time, thinking about how none of the kids at junior high still got spanked, but I still got plenty of ‘em, even as a teenager. But recently, I guess I’ve been looking at it a bit differently, especially after…the public-school party incident. It’s finally started making more sense to me, why Mamma and Pappa have to spank us…”

Jayme finished Joanne’s sentence for her. “...because they love us?”

Joanne sniffled, then glanced down at her flaming red bottom. “Yes…if it’s for the right reason, then maybe getting spankings isn’t so bad. So…thank you for spanking me, Jayme.”

Jayme felt a strange swelling in her chest, and brushed a tear from her eye. “You’re welcome Joanne.”

As Jayme sighed with relief, she uttered a silent prayer of gratitude. Sure, it was never fun to get a spanking, but as Jayme reflected on the thousands of spankings she’d endured, all well-deserved, she couldn’t help but feel thankful to her parents for giving her the spankings she needed, and a little proud of herself for having endured them.

Then, Joanne’s bedroom door burst open, and Mamma appeared. “Girls? I thought I heard a ruckus when I pulled in. Did someone get…hurt?”

As Joanne, Jayme, and Mamma all froze, all eyes in the room were on Joanne’s bright-red, bare buttocks. Mamma knit her brow. “Jayme, what have you done to your sister?”

Chapter II

Jayme stammered, struggling to find any combination of words that made sense. Joanne piped up first. “It was my fault. I broke a rule, and Jayme spanked me.”

Mamma snapped her arm to point at Joanne in the corner. “I asked Jayme. Keep your nose pressed against the corner, and not a peep out of you, Joanne.”

Perhaps it had something to do with having a smarting, freshly-spanked bottom, but Joanne obeyed instantly.

 Mamma crossed her arms and faced Jayme. “Well, Jayme?”

Jayme grit her teeth. “Well, I caught Joanne doing–uh, something–she shouldn’t have been doing.”

Mamma narrowed her eyes. “And what was that?”

Jayme looked to Joanne for help, and only saw the back of her little sister’s raven-haired head. Finally, Jayme took a calming breath, and stood to her full height, towering a full foot over her mother. “I promised to wait and let Joanne tell you and Pappa, when you got back.”

Mama nodded curtly. “Fair enough. Then we will wait to hear her side of the story when your father gets home. But that doesn’t explain why you took it upon yourself to spank her.”

Jayme swallowed a lump in her throat. “Well, Jo said since I was in charge, I could just give her the spanking she had coming, and we’d call it good.”

Joanne nodded in the corner. “Yeah! I said it was okay!”

Mamma snapped a finger at Joanne, who squeaked and pressed her nose flat against the wall. Mamma watched Joanne for a few seconds, then turned back to Jayme. “Who is the head of this household? Your little sister, or your father?”

Jayme felt a bead of sweat on her brow, and her palms felt clammy. “Pappa is the head of this household.”

“And what was the rule that Pappa told you, the last time we came home and found out you had given Joanne a spanking while babysitting?”

Jayme hung her head. “The rule was…I was not allowed to spank Joanne ever again…without permission from you or Pappa. But I figured you would have given me permission, if you knew…”

“If we knew that Joanne had deliberately broken a rule of the house, Pappa and I would definitely have spanked her. If you had called to ask us about the situation, we probably would have discussed the matter, and your Pappa would have decided whether an immediate spanking was warranted, and whether to grant you permission to act on our behalf. But instead, you took matters into your own hands. Why didn’t you call us, Jayme?” 

As she looked Mamma in the eye, Jayme felt her excuses die on her throat. “Because…I was being foolish.”

Mamma spotted Joanne’s black ebony hairbrush on the bed, and picked it up. As Mamma seated herself on Joanne’s bed, she gestured with the hairbrush for emphasis. “Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child…”

Without taking her eyes off the wooden hairbrush, Jayme tucked her thumbs into the waistband of her pajama pants, and finished reciting the Proverb from memory. “...but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him.”

With a single graceful motion, Jayme lowered her pajama bottoms to her ankles, and stepped out of them, before lying obediently across her mother’s lap, bottoms up. Jayme noticed she was wearing an old pair of orange panties from childhood, which she hadn’t quite outgrown, depicting the character Applejack, of My Little Pony frame. 

Mamma began the warm-up hand spanking over Jayme’s cartoony panties. There was no sound apart from the steady clap of palm against buttock, neither a word of lecturing from Mamma, nor a whisper of protest from Jayme. 

After a few minutes of peppering her daughter’s toned backside, Mamma gracefully slid the undergarments down, and carried on paddling Jayme with the hairbrush. From that point on, it became impossible for Jayme to maintain her steady, silent resolve. Jayme started to hoot and holler, exactly like when she was at a rodeo, though she managed to resist the urge to kick. Thanks to Jayme’s remarkable display of self-control, her Applejack panties remained in place just below her bottom, providing her with no protection other than a remnant of modesty. 

After delivering 32 ferocious swats with expert aim, Mamma paused the ordeal. “Jayme, how many spanks did you give Joanne with the hairbrush?”

Heaving for breath, Jayme brushed away tears. “I gave her thirty-nine whacks, ma’am.”

“And do you think you deserve another seven whacks, so you get just the same as Joanne?”

Jayme nodded. “Yes, Mamma. And I deserve whatever additional punishment you decide to give me.”

Mamma patted Jayme’s backside with the back of the brush. “Good girl. Then you have seven more to go. Hold still, and you’ll be past the first part of your punishment soon.”

Jayme’s eyes watered at the mention of this being only the first part of her punishment, but she held as still as she was able. Jayme twisted hips and fidgeted her legs after each of the final seven blows, but Mamma didn’t lecture her nor add additional strokes for moving too much. The Schmidts expected their children to be obedient during a spanking, but they also understood their children were only human.

Finally, Mamma sighed. “That will do. Stand up, Jayme. Hands behind your head.”

Jayme stood, and as she felt her favorite, lucky undies from childhood pinched between her thighs, she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself for not kicking and squirming until she kicked the panties across the room.

Then Mamma glanced at Joanne, standing naked in the corner, and reached out to tug Jayme’s panties all the way down to her ankles. “Hands above your head. Since you put Joanne in her birthday suit, let’s have you in matching outfits. What’s good for the goose is good for the…other goose.”

Jayme blushed as she felt Mamma lifting her pajama shirt up past her belly button. Knowing what was expected of her, Jayme bent over at the waist to allow her much shorter mother to peel her pajama shirt up and over her head. The moment she was stripped naked, Jayme folded her hands behind her head. 

Mamma folded Jayme’s clothing neatly on the bed beside her. “Joanne, come out of timeout and stand next to Jayme. I want to have a word with both of you, before you have to make your confessions to Pappa.”

Joanne shuffled out of her corner to stand side-by-side with Jayme. Both sisters mirrored one another in their poses of surrender, and thanks to their nakedness, that only served to highlight the contrast in their physical appearance. While Joanne’s petite bubble butt was usually pale as a vampire’s, Jayme’s butt was athletic, toned, and usually displayed a prominent tan line where she wore her shorts. At the moment, both were equally a mottled shade of red: their hides had been literally and thoroughly tanned.

Mamma rummaged for something in Joanne’s closet, and emerged with a baggy, extra-extra large white t-shirt. “Aha! Still here, right where I left it. All right, girls, ordinarily, a good hairbrush spanking would be enough for breaking one of the rules of the house. But deliberate disobedience is a serious matter. I’ll have to discuss this with your father. He may well decide that you both need a trip to the woodshed. You understand that will be his decision, and I expect you to submit to his judgment?”

Both girls nodded meekly, and mumbled, “Yes, Ma’am.” 

Mamma held up the massive t-shirt, and revealed the slogan written on the front in marker: “You remember your ‘Get Along Shirt,’ don’t you? The last time we left Jayme in charge of the house, we came back and found you girls at each other’s throats. That means this is a repeat offense.”

Joanne’s mouth drooped in horror. It seemed she most definitely remembered it. “You’re not gonna’ make us wear that again?” 

“Joanne Agatha Schmidt, do not speak out of turn again. And of course you’ve got to wear it. I won’t let you eat dinner completely naked. Now, help each other put it on.”

Jayme and Joanne looked at each other with sympathy. Jayme had long ago resigned herself to whatever fate awaited her. Joanne wore her misery plainly on her face. The baggy shirt still fit them both easily, though it only reached low enough to cover their bottoms like a scandalously short mini-skirt. Jayme’s left hand was free on one side, while Joanne’s right hand was free on the other side, creating the illusion they were a comically mismatched set of conjoined twins.

Mamma clicked her tongue. “Now, although I fully believe that both you girls deserve a trip to the woodshed, I don’t wish that fate on either of you…yes, Joanne? Thank you for raising your hand. You may speak.”

Joanne’s arm seemed to be swimming in the massive t-shirt sleeve as her hand faltered in mid-air. “Um, if you’re going to say ‘Pappa’s probably going to spank us as soon as he gets home,’ Jayme sort of gave me that whole explanation already, when she spanked me. So if you’re asking if we want you to spank us again, on the thin hope he’ll let us off, my vote is to let you spank us now.”

Mamma shook her head. “I wasn’t asking for a vote, and I’m not asking for your permission to spank you. I’m simply explaining that I am going to spank you both, properly, before Pappa gets home. Yes, Jayme, do you have a question?”

Jayme quailed as she held up her hand. “But…didn’t we both get the maximum number of spanks allowed? I thought the Bible said that a criminal gets forty lashes, minus one.”

“Thank you, Jayme, that is a perfectly fair question. Your Pappa and I believe in following Biblical principles. You see, God’s law does clearly teach an upper limit on the number of strokes a criminal can receive, for each offense. But under covenant law, the implement used for corporal punishment was a leather whip with three cords. Practically speaking, that means that the total number of stripes for a flogging was one-hundred and seventeen, per offense, under Biblical law. “Of course, we don’t feel the need to use such a stern punishment on our children, even as you’ve grown older. But it’s important to remember that while God’s Word provides an upper limit to what is considered fair for corporal punishment, it also requires that corporal punishment be harsh enough to dissuade a child from sinning, while they are young. “What that means is, for anything short of a trip to the woodshed for a Biblical flogging, your father and I use common sense to determine a fair punishment for any of you children, depending on your offense. ‘Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell.’ Does that make sense?”

Jayme’s hand trembled in midair. Behind her back, she reflexively reached for her bottom with her other hand, hidden beneath the massive t-shirt. “So…under the law, we could get up to one-hundred and seventeen lashes, so when you give us thirty-nine spanks with a hairbrush, or something like that, that’s you taking it easy on us?”

“Exactly. While you children are still young, we want to show you the meaning of both mercy, and justice.”

Joanne spoke in a dry, dull monotone. “Man, I’d hate to earn the full forty lashes, minus one.”

Mamma glared at Joanne. “I was originally only going to give you ten lashes to put you in the right frame of mind to face Pappa, but that is the second time you’ve spoken out of turn, Joanne. So, yes, you will both be getting another forty strokes, minus one, for your snark, along with Jayme, for her irresponsibility. But most fortunately for your poor little bottoms, I will only be using a paddle, not a lash of three cords.” 

Jayme hung her head. “But are you sure I don’t need the full hundred and seventeen strokes? After all, I’m older than Joanne…old enough to know better.”

Mamma stroked Jayme’s cheek. “Your humility in repentance is admirable, Jayme, but I’m sure a simple paddling will be more than enough to leave the message thoroughly ingrained. Do you trust me and Pappa to punish you fairly?”

Jayme sniffed, and felt her nose clogging from her earlier tears. “Yes, Mamma.”

Mamma gestured to Joanne’s bed. “Then I want you girls to lift the back of your shirt up nice and high to uncover your booties. You’ll have to work together to hold it in place. Then stand in front of the bed and wait for me while I fetch a good-sized paddle. The first thing I expect to see when I come back is both of your bare bottoms, ready and waiting for your next spanking.”

After Mamma left the room, Jayme took a step towards the bed, only to feel Joanne dragging behind her. “C’mon, Jo. Mamma will expect to see us in position and ready to accept our punishment.”

Joanne half stumbled, only catching herself thanks to the shirt. “Hold on, I can barely keep up with your long-leg stork strides.”

With some negotiation, Jayme and Joanne settled themselves over the bed, hoisting the back of the shirt up behind them. At first, Jayme’s knees buckled thanks to her awkwardly long legs, and she shifted to try and rest her weight more securely against the mattress. Joanne choked. “Hey! Watch it! You’re dragging me by the collar here!”

“Oops! Well, I can’t really hold still like this. I feel like I’m doing the squats. Maybe if we…”

Joanne stood, and followed Jayme into a new position, farther across the bed. Jayme felt Joanne’s feet kicking behind them. “Jayme, this won’t work. If I can’t keep my feet on the floor, I won’t be able to hold still when Mamma starts paddling!”

“You’d better if you don’t want to earn extra strokes.”

“And If I earn extra strokes, what makes you think your butt is safe? We’re in this together.”

“Okay, okay, just give me enough room to support my weight…here, this might work.”

Together, they settled into a position that accommodated them both, Joanne touching the floor with her toes, while Jayme was able to support herself in a horse stance with slightly bent knees. Joanne pouted. “Ugh. I feel like I’m wearing high heels. Could you kindly not get another growth spurt?”

They both tensed as they heard the door turn, and Mamma entered the room, cradling a 16-inch wooden paddle. “Perfect. Two bare bottoms ready and waiting for me, without further argument. That’s the kind of teamwork we need. Now girls, before I start your paddling, do you understand why you are being punished? Joanne, you first.”

Joanne groaned. “I mouthed off…”

Mamma patted the hand paddle across both of their bottoms, easily covering both of them, and Joanne stiffened.  “...er, I mean was disrespectful, ma’am.”

Mama glided the wood of the paddle along their sensitive hindquarters, awakening a fresh prickling sensation. “That’s better. And Jayme, why are you getting this spanking?

Jayme sniffled. “I disobeyed you and Pappa, and spanked Joanne without permission.”

Mamma stroked the hand paddle along both of their bottoms, lifting their cheeks slightly. “That’s right. Though, you didn’t do too bad a job of it. We’ll have to discuss finding more opportunities to let you practice the art of giving a proper spanking. It’s a handy life skill. Well, I know I promised both you girls another forty lashes for disobedience…but do you recall how, last time I had to use the ‘Our Get Along Shirt,’ both you girls got spanked together for any offense, until you learned to stop fighting?”

Jayme and Joanne glanced at each other, realizing the full implications. The last time they were forced to wear the massive shirt, they were both spanked any time either one of them misbehaved, meaning they got the equivalent of two spankings each for any act of fighting. Both sisters swallowed and answered, “Yes, ma’am?”

Mamma patted their bottoms again. Jayme noticed that Mamma was positioned on Joanne’s right side, meaning that, although the paddle would land across both of their bottoms, Jayme’s left buttock would absorb most of the brunt of the coming paddle stroke from the farthest tip of the paddle. Mamma sighed. “Well, ordinarily that would mean that you would both be getting a set of forty strokes, minus one, each…if we were still following that old rule. But since you’re doing such a good job working together, I will instead give you twenty swats each, minus one, if you hold yourselves in position and take your spanking like good girls should.”

Jayme and Joanne both audibly exhaled.

“Thank you…” whispered Jayme, thankfully.

“Ma’am!” added Joanne, urgently.

Mamma patted the paddle across their bottoms with more firmness, to alert them the real paddling was about to begin. “I love you both. Now say a quick prayer for strength, and grit your teeth…”

As Jayme glanced up, she spotted a framed picture on Joanne’s wall which she recognized as an old self-portrait of Joanne in an anime style with full goth regalia, leaning on the shoulder of Jesus. Jayme suddenly felt a fresh pang of guilt for spanking her sister. “Let he that is blameless, cast the first stone…” thought Jayme, as she grit her teeth.

Then the first stroke of the paddle landed, leaving a vivid red, rectangular mark which stretched all the way across Jayme’s left buttock.

…

After many years of practicing the art of enduring spankings obediently, Jayme and Joanne were determined to not earn themselves extra strokes. But if Mamma felt sorry for them to hold back slightly, she didn’t feel sorry for them enough to make the spanking not hurt. After twelve solid whacks, Jayme felt her resolve not to kick start to crumble, and wondered how Joanne was doing. As if in answer, Jayme felt Joanne’s hand squeezed hers beneath the shirt, and Jayme squeezed it back. They held on to each other to endure the last seven strokes, before Mamma paused, strode to Jayme’s left side, and switched her grip on the paddle. “That’s Jayme’s half of the forty, minus one. Joanne, this next half will be harder for you. Take a moment to catch your breath, and tell me when you’re ready. Then we can get this wrapped up, before your father gets home.”

Wincing, Joanne hissed past her clenched teeth, and took her sweet time catching her breath. Jayme heard the sound of a slippered foot tapping, and glanced over her shoulder. When Jayme saw the look on Mamma’s face, she decided that they’d better not try to stall any further. Beneath the shirt, Jayme gave Joanne a soft nudge with her elbow. “Ready, Mamma!” whispered Jayme.

Blinking back tears, Joanne nodded, and gripped her purple blanket tight with her free right hand. “Ready,” whimpered Joanne.

Mamma commenced the paddling immediately, and Joanne yelped when she felt the full impact, and Jayme knew that Joanne’s right buttock in particular was probably throbbing already.

Jayme held tight to Joanne’s hand, and forced herself to hold still, willing Joanne to somehow take some of her resolve. Somehow, it worked. After fifteen strokes, Joanne was wailing freely, and Jayme could feel her body trembling against hers. But Joanne resisted the urge to kick or let go of the mattress until the nineteenth, and final, stroke landed.

Jayme sighed, and glanced at the tear stains that dotted the mattress in front of both of them. A good spanking always ended in tears, and Mamma never failed to deliver.

Behind them, Mamma blew a sharp breath. “Phew! All right, ladies, I’m satisfied. Of course, it’s still up to your father to decide if you’ve been punished enough, or if you still need a trip to the woodshed. Try to stand up. I’ve got a hairpin handy for you.”

Jayme’s eyes popped open. “A hairpin?”

As if in answer to Jayme’s unspoken question, Mamma’s hand hiked the back of the shirt up, and pinned it at the back. “Those are certainly two, well-spanked, bright red bottoms, no denying it.”

Joanne’s voice trembled as she whined. “But…we’re only supposed to get spanked on our bare bottoms in private?”

Mamma set down the paddle and patted their bottoms playfully with her open hand, stroking them gently. “Usually, yes. But the only reason we instituted that rule in the first place is to stop you from teasing Jayme for getting spanked on her bare bottom. Given the circumstances…I doubt there’s much danger of that. Now, straight to the dinner table, and no more whiny noises.”

Joanne’s lip quivered, but she successfully suppressed the urge to complain. In the dining room, they were instructed to replace their usual chairs with the wooden piano bench, and had to work together to carry it awkwardly to their place at the table. 

From the kitchen, Mamma poked her head past the door frame to give them a look of approval, taking a sip of soup from a wooden spoon. “That’s more like it. Have a seat and wait for your father to get home while I finish preparing supper. We’re having minestrone.”

As Jayme sat down onto the wooden bench, she felt her burning butt cheeks squash flat against the hard surface, and groaned. Joanne opted to gasp softly.

Jayme caught her breath as the initial pang of discomfort subsided, to be replaced by that all-too-familiar, distinctive, dull ache, which the Schmidt siblings all referred to as “butt hurt.” 

Jayme tried to smile at Joanne. “Well, at least we made it this far.”

Joanne scowled as she scooped up her spoon. “I’m not going to have to spoon-feed you soup, am I?”

Jayme glanced down at the bowl and second spoon in front of her, and was surprised to find it was already full of soup. That was odd. Mamma usually waited to serve them until everyone was seated. Experimentally, Jayme picked up her own spoon. “I think I can handle using my left hand. I’m better with my right, but I’ve always wondered if I’m ambidextrous.”

Mamma’s voice cooed from the kitchen. “You might have gotten that from me. I’m ambidextrous. Comes in very handy when I have two naughty bottoms to spank at once.”

Jayme nodded as she took an experimental bite of soup. “Thanks, Mamma. Hopefully, Pappa will take pity on us. Maybe we won’t get a trip to the woodshed.”

Joanne blew at her soup. “I dunno, Jayme. Doesn’t something about all this seem…strange?”

Jayme blinked. “Like what?”

Joanne glanced nervously at the kitchen, and whispered in Jayme’s ear. “Like, wasn’t that spanking a lot harsher than what we usually get? Even for disobedience bad enough to earn us a trip to our rooms for a stern talking too? And why is Mamma home so early before Pappa? And why are we eating soup if Mamma is still making it in the kitchen? There’s something suspicious going on here!”

Jayme accidentally spilled a whole spoonful of soup. “What are you saying?”

Joanne glared at Jayme. “I’m saying…it’s almost like I’m trapped in some sort of vivid dream, cooked up by someone with a deep, sub-conscious obsession with being spanked!”

At that moment, the front door burst open, and Pappa strode in, his cowboy boots clicking ominously with every step. “I’m home! Well, well, well, what have we here? I can see that my two favorite, prodigal daughters are in some kind of trouble.”

Mamma appeared from the kitchen, stark naked except for an apron, and carrying a full pot of minestrone soup in front of her. “Oh, I’m afraid I had to give them both a spanking. Girls, why don’t you tell your father what you did wrong today?”

Pappa held up a hand, and unfastened the buckle of his rawhide belt. “No need for explanations. Just from the looks of those red behinds, I can see that my little firecracker and my favorite little ray of sunshine have been very naughty today…which can only mean…”

Pappa whipped his belt free from the loops, folded it, and snapped it between his hands. “...you two are long overdue for a trip to the woodshed!”

Jayme felt her chest tighten, and the world spinning around her, her headache returning with a vengeance. “Huh? But you never spank us without hearing us out first! You always say we’re innocent until proven guilty!”

“And clearly, that was a mistake, or you wouldn’t be such a bad, naughty, sinful little girl, Jayme Schmidt. Clearly, you’re secretly up to something bad I don’t know about. So from now on, I’ll just thrash you once a day, just to be safe.”

Mamma appeared at Pappa’s side, still naked, and rested her oven mitt covered hands on her plump hips. “Oh dear, do you really think the full, Biblical forty lashes, minus one, will be necessary, Pappa? I feel so sorry for their poor bottoms already?”

Pappa nodded, his face emotionless. “I’m afraid so…of course, since both of them are wearing the ‘Get Along’ shirt, that means I’ll have to give them both the full, Biblical forty lashes…twice.”

Jayme swooned, and fell backwards, dragging Joanne along with her. “I’m…a…bad…girl…”

They slammed against the floor, but then something strange happened. They sank into the floor as if it were a fluffy blanket, and fell into a deep, eternal blackness.

…

Jayme snapped awake from her bed, her head splitting. “...bad…girl?”

Jayme glanced around, and recognized her bedroom. Still feeling the agonizing ache all across her ass, Jayme reached into her pajama pants and clutched her butt cheeks, only to find them cool to the touch. She hadn’t been spanked at all! …Not recently at least.

Jayme laughed. “It was all…just a dream? Oh what a relief! For a second there, I thought I was a goner!”

Then, Mamma’s muffled voice rang from outside her bedroom door. “Jayme? Are you up? Feeling better?”

Jayme felt her forehead. “Um, a little better, I think?”

“Good. Then get your butt to the kitchen, before I have to spank it!”

Jayme tensed. “No! Please don’t spank me!” 

Jayme’s bedroom door seemed to pause, thoughtfully. “Jayme, I’m only kidding. I made you minestrone. Nothing better for when you’re feeling icky…Dinner is in ten minutes. Take your time…but don’t be late!”

Jayme’s voice cracked. “Or I get spanked?”

Mamma opened the door and peered in. “Jayme, honey, I really don’t want to spank you when you’re feeling sick, but the rules of the house still apply. Don’t test them. Understood?”

Mutely, Jayme nodded. Mamma smiled sweetly. “Good girl.”

By Dr. Kriege

“That was completely inappropriate, Joanne!” Jayme scolded as the hotel door flew open. Her long legs carrying her across the room in just a few strides. Her limbs were bare and tanned, poking out from the denim shorts she was wearing over a white and blue striped swimsuit.  A moment later the wide cowboy hat she was wearing went flying onto the bed as she turned to face her younger sister, hands on her hips in the stern stance which was the perfect image of their mother.

Behind her, sixteen-years-old Joanne followed her older sibling into the room, arms folded. She too wore a swimsuit, dark purple, covered with a thin cotton shirt and skirt in lacy black. A matching sun hat covered her hair and she still had her sunglasses on.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic. You won didn’t you? And think of the holiday we can have with the money,” Joanne replied, tossing her own hat onto the bed and clipping her folded sunglasses to her waistband.

“It’s my holiday, Joanne,” Jayme snapped back. “You begged to be able to come out here to join me on spring break, and I let you because I know how strict Mamma and Poppa can be and thought you could do with a break to cut loose. But within reason. Darn it Joanne, that was all our holiday money you gambled with. If we’d lost it we couldn’t have even paid the hotel bill.” Jayme’s face was flushed with more than just the Florida heat. Indeed it was going from pink to crimson in stark contrast to her straw yellow locks as her anger increased.

Joanne folded her arms, anger rising in her own face too. “Mamma is strict? Have you looked in a mirror lately, Jayme?” she sneered.

Jayme paused, realising she was still in the same hands-on-hip stance she’s been scolded in by her mother so many times before. Embarrassed, she dropped her arms, then caught herself.

“I’m in charge Joanne. That was the agreement. You could come join me for the weekend of spring break, but I was in charge. You acted without consulting me and put all our holiday money at risk. You know what Momma would do if she were here.”

Joanne snorted. “Yeah, well if you think I’m letting you spank me you can forget it!” 

For what seemed like a long moment the two sisters seemed they would reignite the rivalry that had marked their early teens. Jayme broke the deadlock by stepping forwards, but Joanne was fast, despite her smaller size, and darted quickly for the bathroom, slamming the door and throwing her weight behind it as she fumbled with the lock.

“Joanne Agatha Schmidt, get back out here this instant! Jayme cried, suddenly aware how exactly like their mother she sounded. Stunned, she stepped back, he mind reeling. Was she becoming their mother? Mamma had always loved them, but oh boy had she spanked them. Them and all their siblings. Even Juniper was earning her fair share of sore bottoms these days, but Jayme and Joanne had spent more time across their mother’s lap than the remainder of their family combined. Was she becoming the spank-happy teenager she used to be? Or their mother? Was that a bad thing?

The room seemed to swirl around her, and Jayme staggered, sitting down promptly on one of the beds as her head swam. What was she doing? She didn’t really want to spank Joanne. They weren’t bratty teenagers anymore. She was at college. Heck she’d let Joanne come out here to give her a break from spankings.

And yet……

And yet Jayme was in charge. She was the eldest sibling and an adult now, having turned eighteen the previous month. More importantly, Mamma had put her in charge. She didn’t want to be an ogre. But Joanne had messed up. As always she’d taken an inch and run a mile with it. But did that mean Jayme was right to spank her?

Sitting on the edge of the bed she took a deep breath. “Ok Jayme, think about it logically” she said aloud. “Joanne messed up. She did something she darn well knew she shouldn’t do.  Gambling all our holiday money on a stupid contest. Alright, we won, so no bad came of it. But plenty of bad could have come of it. And a spanking is more than just a punishment, it’s also a warning to prevent you making silly mistakes in the future. So yes, she does deserve a spanking.” 

Still her stomach twisted at the notion.

“So why does it feel wrong?” she murmured. “There were plenty of times I wanted to give Joanne a spanking growing up. Why do I feel so uncomfortable about the idea now?” Jayme rubbed her temples, feeling how hot and flushed her face was. She rested cool palms on her cheeks and felt the flush recede, helping her think.

Was it that she’d get into trouble? No, her parents had put her in charge, and they would absolutely agree Joanne deserved a spanking (and a sound one at that). Heck, if she’d pulled that trick at home Joanne would likely be going to the woodshed. So why was the thought of administering a punishment making her stomach twist?

Then finally it came to her. Once line that made it all make sense:

“This will hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you.”

The number of times she’d been sat across her parents’ knees or bent over the side of her bed and heard this phrase, it was etched into her memory. But of course, like any child, she’d never understood it. Not until today. But it made perfect sense. She didn’t want to spank Joanne. She wanted to be her friend, her sister, the cool older sibling taking her on a get-away-from-it-all holiday. But Joanne needed to be punished for her actions, and she was in charge. “With great power comes great responsibility,” She said, quoting the comics like her parents quoted scripture.

Jayme took a deep breath in, then exhaled. Gathering her composure she stood, crossed to the bathroom door, and calmly knocked.

***

Inside the bathroom, Joanne locked the door and stepped away. For a moment she was afraid Jayme would break the door down to come after her, she seemed so mad. But after a single knock there was a spooky silence. Confused and a little scared, Joanne lowered the lid and sat atop the toilet.

“What the heck just happened?” she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. There was a familiar pressure building there and Joanne didn’t like what it entailed.

She was going to cry. 

What was the problem? She knew Jayme would win. An automated, bucking Bronco Machine in a seaside arcade. Jayme had won actual rodeo. And the guys hanging around were all rich kids from upstate. They would never have beaten Jayme. And it wasn’t a sin. Not really. They had been keen to take on Joanne’s “sister,” presuming it would be another dark-haired, petite Goth girl. Even when they had seen Jayme, tall and long limbed, none of them had backed out. They clearly had it coming.

But then gambling was a sin. And it hadn’t even been her money she was gambling with.

Inside an uneasy sick feeling was rising in Joanne’s stomach. She knew that feeling too. It was guilt.

The tears came now, replacing the anger of the moment and streaking her cheeks. The memory played again and again in her head, and she could see it all from the side-lines. Pride, arrogance, greed. Blast, was she going to be sick? She certainly felt nauseous, but it would pass.

No, she realised, as more tears flowed. It wouldn’t pass. It would go away, but only when she was forgiven. She had to apologise to her sister, have her call their parents, and…..

But then their holiday would be over. Papa would demand her on the first train back, and Jayme would likely get an earful for letting it happen. Heck they might even call Jayme back from her holiday too. Give her a spanking for not keeping Joanne under control.

No! Joanne stood up. She wasn’t going to ruin Jayme’s holiday. Jayme, who had been nice enough to bring her along, and frankly must have better things to do than spend spring break babysitting her sixteen-year-old sister.

Just the thought of how much trust she’d betrayed Jayme’s trust twisted a knife in her guts. Deep down Joanne knew there was only one thing for it. Only one way she’d feel better. Taking a steadying breath she strode to the door, sliding the bolt back just as Jayme knocked again.

Gingerly she opened it, and the two sisters faced each other across the threshold.

“You need to be spanked,” Jayme said.

“I need to be spanked,” Joanne said, at the same time.

An uneasy silence settled between the two of them.

“I-I don’t actually want to do it,” Jayme confessed.

“I need it,” Joanne replied. “I deserve it and I-I want it. I want to get it over with and be forgiven.”

“You know I forgive you right?” Jayme asked. “You can be pretty annoying at times but you’re my sister, and your heart is always in the right place.”

Fresh tears rolled down Joanne’s cheeks. And she realised Jayme’s eyes were glistening too.

“It isn’t just about you forgiving me. It’s about me feeling forgiven. I feel lousy right now. You’ve messed up enough to know what I mean Jayme, and you know what will make me feel better.”

“A spanking?” Jayme asked.

“A spanking!” confirmed Joanne.

The two sisters hugged for a moment, and Joanne felt the sickly feeling instantly begin to recede.

Eventually Jayme broke the hold. “You know what you need to do?” she asked.

Joanne bit her lip and nodded nervously. Then, as Jayme stepped away she began to undress, carefully removing all her clothing, scooping up her sunglasses once they fell forgotten to the floor, and standing before her older sister, naked as Eve.

Jayme meanwhile recovered her hairbrush from her suitcase and sat upon the end of the bed.

How many times had she dreamed of this when they were younger? Of really teaching her little sister a lesson. And now, here she was, wishing with all her heart she didn’t have to do this.

“Warning shots to warm you up. That’s thirty swats Joanne, and it will be on your bare behind. Then I’m going to use the belt, understand?”

“Yes, Jayme.” Joanne sniffed, then stepped forward, bending over Jayme’s lap and positioning herself. Both girls had spent enough time in this position to know how to make it comfortable, and they quickly settled in, Joanne bent over with her splayed fingers touching the floor and her feet hanging free.

“Here they come,” Jayme said, and landed the first smack on Joanne’s bared behind.

All the Schmidt sisters received regular spankings, and their behinds existed in a permanent state of slight tenderness. Still it took more than one firm swat to make Joanne yell out. Fortunately, more than one firm swat was what she had coming.

“Thwack, Thwack, Thwack!” went the hairbrush. 

Jayme stuck her tongue out between her teeth as she concentrated. This was harder than she thought. Not just the willpower to see the punishment done, but the simple act of it itself. She needed to cover Joanne’s rear, not focus all her attention in one place. She needed to keep her swing nice and even, and of course she couldn’t lose count. Briefly she wondered if that was why Mamma often made them count their spankings, then realised in horror she had lost count. Mind reeling Jayme swallowed and asked, “How many was that?” trying to sound confident and in command.

“Eleven, Jayme” came Joanne’s reply, her voice strangely muffled by her position near the floor.

“Good,” Jayme answered, hoping it was correct, and resumed her spanking, this time taking care to count the strokes in her head as she spread the strokes out. Initially she was worried she might not be hitting hard enough, but by fifteen Joanne was squeaking, and at nineteen the dam broke and Joanne began to cry out with each smack. Her body bucked on Jayme’s lap and her legs began to kick with each stroke. Confident she was getting her point across Jayme continued her spanking until she reached twenty-five.

Laying across her lap, Joanne had begun to sob. She realised she’d been hoping to hold it in, to endure her spanking stoically, perhaps not to look weak in front of her sister. But as the harsh stinging smacks had built up into a steady burning heat in her behind, Joanne had been forced to abandon all pretence of pride, and began to yell. Now she slumped crying across Jayme’s lap, confusion slowly working its way through the thoughts of her burning behind as she realised Jayme had stopped six strokes too soon.

“I’ve just realised you need another punishment for the sin of gambling itself. But I don’t want to spank you for a third time, so I’ve got a little something in mind.” Jayme, her voice seeming to come down from on high. 

 Joanne twisted to try and see what was going to happen, then she felt the brush being patted against her bare behind, and realised with horror Jayme had flipped it.

“Not the bristles!” she cried out, but that was exactly what Jayme had in mind.

The next smack sent a hundred tiny needles of fire burning through Joanne’s behind and caused her to buck like the Bronco Machine at the centre of the issue. Jayme found that strangely appropriate. “The punishment fits the crime I guess” she whispered, then landed another swat on Joanne’s behind.

Joanne howled and howled! Each stroke made her buck and scream. By the time her last six strokes were done Joanne was hanging over Jayme’s lap sobbing like a babe. Jayme let her rest a moment before ordering her up. Standing, Jayme saw her younger sister naked and red faced, eyes puffy and swollen with tears and couldn’t help but hug her.

“Nearly done Jo’ she whispered. Go stand in the corner for ten minutes, then when I call you bend over the bed.” 

Sobbing, Joanne nodded and stepped away, her hands rising to her head. With practiced efficacy, she moved to the corner and planted her nose firmly in it, resisting the urge to rub her burning behind and alleviate the sting of the bristles. 

Ten agonising minutes later Jayme called out, “Alright Joanne, we both know the drill.”

Reluctantly Joanne crept over to the bed, bending over while keeping her legs straight to push her bottom up high.

“H-How many am I getting?” she stammered, looking at the long white belt Jayme had dug out of her luggage. 

“As many as you deserve Joanne,” she replied, then softened the blow. “Just Ten. You’ve shown genuine contrition, so I’d give you the minimum for two offences.”

Joanne sniffed, genuinely grateful. She spread her legs a little and braced herself.

“Ready?” Jayme asked.

“Ready,” Joanne replied.

“CRACK!” said the belt, taking up its part in the conversation, a line it repeated several times to the accompaniment of Joanne yelling, “Ahhh! Yowie! Yaaaa! Eouch! Waaaa!”

By the time ten strokes had been administered, Joanne was again sobbing freely, and her behind was a red and crimson mess.

Jayme landed one open-palmed smack on her sister’s bottom. 

“SMACK!”

“And that’s for not listening to your big sister,” she added with a chuckle. 

Joanne collapsed onto the bed, realising with Jayme’s laugh the punishment was finally over. Wasting no time, Jayme dropped down next to her and wrapped Joanne up in a hug.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” she said, honestly.

“Not as sorry as I am,” Joanne replied, and both girls began to laugh.

***

Sometime later Joanne lay naked on her bed. She had a pillow tucked under her lifting her rump up in the air. Jayme sat beside her, an ice bag filed from the machine gently pressed against Joanne’s blowing red behind.

“What will we do with the money we won?” Joanne asked, lifting her head off the pillow and turning to face her sister.

“We’ll find a local Baptist church tomorrow. We’ll tell the minister what happened, and ask him to use it for some charity work.” 

Joanne nodded. 

“Well, most of it.” Jayme smiled. “I think we can spend just a little on room service. You fancy some ice cream?” 

“Can we get some for my behind?” Joanne asked, and the sisters laughed again.

Daniel Spanks Molly sketch by SQWEK.

Princess Peach’s Joy Ride

By Yu May

[If you love spanking fetish stories and/or fairy tales, you will love Princess Spanking Stories (And Other Parodic Tales). Enjoy spankings and adventure galore in this 370 page collection of heart-warming, bottom warming yarns.]

Princess Peach sighed for the hundredth time that afternoon, slumping against the windowsill of her private chamber. Toad Town stretched out below the castle. There was a rainbow of cheerful colors as far as the eye could see: Toads bustled about hanging colored banners and tying ribbons around poles. Beyond the town, Fire Flowers were in full bloom, complementing the blue-green grass of the rolling hills. 

But nothing could distract Peach from that horrible, blank sheet of paper. The Council of Elders had already sent her a note laying out the expected talking points for her welcome speech for the upcoming Fireworks Festival. But despite the quickly approaching deadline, Peach was struggling to find anything inspiring in the dull series of bullet points. Peach mumbled in a monotone voice. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mushroom Kingdom, Mushroom Kingdom, Mushroom Kingdom, tradition, tradition, tradition, enduring bonds of friendship, recognition of the stalwart courage of the Mario brothers, quick hat tip to the fireworks team, let the show begin.”

She knew exactly what was required of her, but it it all felt so insipid. It needed something. A literary quotation, a personal story, some pathos!

She could practically hear her own voice droning on while the crowd politely clapped and the fireworks waited.

She needed to take a walk.

Wandering the castle halls to escape her thoughts, Peach found herself in the royal armory. Sunlight shone through the high slanted windows onto polished suits of armor and neatly arranged power-ups behind glass cases. 

Her eyes stopped on one item in particular: a single, striped Tanooki Leaf resting on a velvet cushion, its fuzzy tail-like stem fluttering faintly, even though there was no breeze.

A slow smile crept across her face. Just one quick flight. No one would know.

She remembered her father’s stern voice: “Under no circumstances are you to take to the skies without the Royal Toad Guard, young lady. It is not proper, and it is not safe.” 

But that was when she had been a very little girl. She’d flown with the power of a Tanooki Leaf plenty of times since then, on her madcap adventures with the Mario Bros. 

Peach watched her hands slipped the leaf from its case, feeling like she was a puppet attached to strings. The moment her fingers closed around it, golden sparkles danced across her gown. She gave it a gentle shake.

Poof!

Instantly, the familiar Tanooki suit enveloped her. Peach felt the fuzzy ears, and gave her fluffy new, ringed tail an experimental swish, then dashed to the nearest balcony. With a running leap, she soared into the open sky.

She heard the wind rushing past her. She laughed out loud, looping through clouds and skimming over the treetops of the Mushroom Forest. 

For the first time in days, she felt alive. She twirled, dove, and rose again, the kingdom a colorful patchwork far below.

Then she heard the shouts. A cluster of Toads in the plaza below were pointing up at her, shouting.

“Look! Up there!”

“Is that… the Princess?”

Peach’s ears flattened. “Shoot, if word of this gets back to Toadsworth…”

Peach didn’t want to dwell on it. She’d be grounded for a week, at the very least. Toadsworth might even send her to his office for… 

Peach gulped at the memory of her last trip to Toadsworth’s private office. 

She tried to bank away toward the hills, but in her panic, her movements were too jerky. As she tried to course correct aiming for the window of her private chamber, but she cut too close to the royal parade grounds, and her tail clipped the tall flagpole flying the Mushroom Kingdom banner.

Crack!

The pole teetered, then toppled, carrying Peach down along with it. Peach gasped in terror, and twisted to see the stone ground rushing to greet her. Peach twisted, and spun her tail to slow her plummet, but she forgot about the pole.

The pole slammed down across a banner bearing the words, “Welcome to the Fireworks Festival, Mario Bros!” with such force, it tore the banner off its supports and sank deep into the ground, tearing it free from the two ribboned poles on either side. 

Did you ever play with a spring doorstop as a child, holding it back and letting it go with a delightful “SPROING!” That was exactly the sound the two poles made as the snapped back and forth wildly. Then they reverberated up and out of the ground, and flopped down. This created a chain reaction as every pole connected to the long ribbon collapsed and fell like dominos.

Toads scrambled in every direction, screaming, then carefully poked their heads out to examine the damage. The royal flag of the Mushroom Kingdom fluttered sadly to the ground, and landed in a mud puddle.

“Oh no…” Peach whispered, ears drooping. She landed hastily behind the castle, the Tanooki suit vanishing in another puff of sparkles as the Leaf’s power faded. She tucked the leaf back into her gown and hurried inside, heart hammering.

***

Peach sat fidgeting on a small wooden bench outside the royal throne room, knees together, hands folded tightly in her lap. The muffled voices of the Council of Elders drifted through the door. Every so often she caught a few words. “... flagpoles in ruins…”

“... witnesses swear it was Her Highness…”

Peach stared at the floor, cheeks burning with guilt. She certainly wasn’t bored any more. But as she felt the heavy knot of dread in her stomach, Peach wished she could be bored again. 

She could already picture the lecture, the disappointed sighs from the Council, and the very real possibility that her festival speech would now include a few extra paragraphs apologizing her her escapade.

She let out a tiny, choked sigh.

It had been far too short a short joy ride.

Princess Peach looked up as the heavy oak door creaked open. Toadsworth stepped out, his wrinkled face calm but serious, and fixed his spectacles.

“Your Highness, the Council has other matters to discuss relating to the… regrettable incident. Come with me. You and I need to have a discussion in my office.”  

Peach stood, and bowed low. “I’m so sorry, Toadsworth. I was bored and… and I didn’t think. I never meant to cause such a mess.”

“So, you admit to it?”

Peach’s throat felt tight. “Yes, sir. I’m so sorry.”

Toadsworth took her hand in his, and led her toward his office. “I am not angry with you, my Princess. But what you did was wrong. You defied your father’s clear orders, endangered yourself, and damaged royal property. Now you must answer for it.”

“Yes, sir. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

“That’s the spirit… And I will hold you to that promise, Princess.”

A few minutes later, the other four members of the Council of Elders arrived, filing into Toadsworth’s study.

Peach examined their faces. Only old Captain Toadster looked even slightly sympathetic. In fact, he looked like he was desperately fighting the temptation to burst out laughing. The other two elders were studiously silent. But Professor Toadsky looked even more grumpy than usual, with his permanently furrowed brow. He jabbed a finger at Toadsworth, his toothbrush mustache quivering. “How in the stars was the Princess able to get out of the castle unsupervised?” 

Toadsworth nodded. “The fault is mine. I neglected to keep the power-ups under lock and key..”

Old Captain Toadsky snickered. “Though I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time Princess Peach has swan dived out of the window of a castle tower. Say, remember the time when Bowser attacked with–”

Professor Toadsky barked. “I’m not interested in waxing nostalgic. What sort of punishment is being considered for this reckless behavior?” 

His eyes narrowed at Peach. “In my view, a public flogging with a rod is the only fitting response. Let the kingdom see that even royalty is not above the law!”

Toadsworth raised a hand. “Professor Toadsky, while I agree the Princess acted improperly, a public flogging would be cruel and unusual. It would reflect poorly on the Crown and undermine the very dignity we seek to uphold. There are wiser ways to teach this lesson.”

Toadsky harrumphed. “So it’s to be a slap on the wrist for her Royal Highness?”

Toadsworth turned to Peach, his tone kind but firm. “Princess, what do you think? Is a slap on the wrist a suitable punishment for what you did?”

Peach swallowed, cheeks flushed with shame. “I can pay for the damages out of my private allowance. And… I do think I deserve a spanking for what I did. But please, if it must be done, let Toadsworth conduct my caning in private.”

The other four Elders murmured among themselves. After a tense minute, Toadsky crossed his arms. “We will accept the private paddling, but only if the Council is permitted to witness it. Don’t think you can pull the old stunt where you promise to cane her behind close doors, and whack a pillow instead. We must ensure Peach’s caning is carried out properly and thoroughly.”

Peach clenched her fists. “Toadsworth would never do that! He is a man of his word!”

Toadsworth held up a hand. “Thank you, your Highness, but Professor Toadsky is right. It is only appropriate for us to bring this matter before King Toadstool… Princess Peach, I must ask you to fetch the Royal Star Rod, to be used for your chastisement.”

Peach took a steadying breath, then gave a graceful curtsy. The Royal Star Rod was an exact replica of the sacred relic of the Shine Sprites, given as a gift to the royal family as a symbol of their heavenly right to the throne and to spank the royal bottoms of royal heirs to that throne. To be spanked with Royal Star Rod was a humiliation reserved for only the worst of offenses. And worst of all… it possessed magical stinging powers. Peach forced herself to hold her head high, and curtsey. “If that is the Council’s decision, then I submit to its judgment.”

Toadsworth nodded solemnly. “Very well. Princess, please meet us in the Royal Throne Room in ten minutes. I will inform your father of the Council’s decision.”

“Yes, Toadsworth,” Peach replied softly. She turned and walked down the long corridor toward the armory, her steps slow and dejected. Though she was grateful for Toadsworth’s compassion and steady guidance, her stomach was churning, and she felt a cold sweat. In the armory, she saw the same suits and power-ups she’d wanted to play with, only just this morning. Now, the only thing in the room that commanded her attention was the imposing shape of the Star Rod. Peach felt its heavy weight in her hands.

She knew exactly what was coming next: a bare bottom spanking in front of her beloved father, and all his closest advisors. The castle halls felt like they stretched on and on forever in front of her.

***

The heavy doors of the Royal Throne Room swung open. King Toadstool sat upon the grand throne, looking even smaller and frailer than usual beneath his oversized crown. Toadsworth stood at his side, while the other four Elders formed a quiet semicircle nearby.

“Peach-pie?” the King said in his quavering voice. “What’s all this I’m hearing about? Something about… flying? And playing dominos?”

Toadsworth leaned close to the King’s ear and spoke clearly. “Your Majesty, the Princess took a Tanooki Leaf without permission. She caused quite a commotion in the parade grounds—knocked over the flagpoles like dominoes.”

The King blinked slowly, cupping a hand to his ear. “Eh? Flagpoles? …Ah. So those were the dominoes. Oh, dearie me.” 

The wrinkles on his prunish face softened. King Toadstool let out a long, tired sight. “Peach, my dear… that was very naughty. You mustn’t fly off alone. Come here now. Papa spank.”

Peach approached the throne, heart heavy. “Yes, Father.”

The elderly King patted his lap with a trembling hand. “Lie across my knee, child. I want you to know, I love you, even when I have to spank you.”

Peach nodded. “I know, Daddy. And I love you.”

Her cheeks burning with shame, Peach draped herself over her father’s lap, lifting the pooling skirts of her gown to reveal her frilly pink bloomers. The King’s hand rose and fell in a series of gentle, half-hearted smacks. 

The love pats barely stung, but not for lack of effort on King Toadstool’s part. Once, he could have spanked Princess to tears with only three hard swats. But the King’s old strength of arm had long since faded.

Yet with every light swat, Peach’s mind replayed the disastrous events of the day in her mind’s eye. She remembered how appealing the soft Tanooki Leaf had felt in her hand. She heard the crash of the flagpoles, the startled cries of the Toads below, and felt the same disappointment she had heard in Toadsworth’s and her father’s voices. The physical sting was nothing compared to the knowledge that she had let her father down.

After a few minutes of weakly peppering Peach’s panty-clad behind, the King stopped. “There, there… That’s enough from me, I think. Toadsworth will have to handle you the rest. The old grey mare, she ain’t what she used to be…”

Toadsworth bowed respectfully. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The King nodded absent-mindedly, singing to himself. “...ain’t what she used to be, ain’t what she–eh–oh, yeah, please proceed, Councillor Toadsworth. I entrust the matter of disciplining my daughter to your capable hands.”

Toadsworth turned to Peach, his expression resolute. “Princess, you will bare your bottom, hoist your skirts fully, and bend over to grasp your ankles. Because you were old enough to know better, I have decided you will receive twenty strokes in total, one for your misdeed, and one extra for each of your nineteen years. That should suffice to serve as a lasting reminder. If you leave position or struggle, that stroke will not count, and must be repeated. Do you understand?”

Peach whispered. “Yes, sir.” 

She handed Toadsworth the Star Rod, its magical surface glowing faintly with power, and thought with a shiver how its enchanted sting would make this far worse than any ordinary spanking. Then, cheeks burning with humiliation, she lifted the hem of her royal gown and petticoats, baring her smooth, peach-shaped backside to the watching Elders. Finding the button at the back of her dress, Peach pinned her skirts in place, and took a steady stance in the center of the throne room.

Bending low at the waist, Peach grabbed tight to her ankles, and held the position. The cool air of the throne room brushed against her exposed skin, tickling her flesh, and she felt the peach fuzz on her bottom standing on end.

Peach was acutely aware of how her fully exposed rear end was now poking high in the air, prominent for all to see.

Her only small comfort was the knowledge that this was not happening in front of the entire assembled Mushroom Kingdom. It was bad enough to know that just the Elders, her father, and Toadsworth would witness her shame.

Toadsworth tapped the Star Rod once against Peach’s buttocks, and the decorative star sparkled to life with warm light. Toadsworth’s voice was calm. “Hold steady, Princess. This is going to sting. I expect you to count each stroke, to acknowledge that you are ready to receive the next one.”

Peach bit her lip. Thanks to the warmth of the magic, even those light, gentle love taps felt like a hundred white hot needles pressing against her buttocks.

Slowly, Toadsworth raised the Star Rod high, and brought it down with a swift, deliberate snap.

Thwack!

Peach gasped, stunned by the sharp, magical sting that bloomed across her bare bottom. Then she remembered her instructions to keep count. “One!” 

As the agonizing seconds dragged on, Peach felt the lingering impact from the Star Rod’s power, like a tight bundle of electric sparks dancing across her skin. Hot, prickling, and far sharper than either wood or leather ever achieve.

Whack!

Peach gasped. “Two!”

Toadsworth paced the caning slowly, using measured precision to make each blow hurt in its own right, even without the added effect of the magic. Peach had just enough time between each spank to feel the full effect, and fight to catch her breath and keep count, before the next merciless stroke arrived.

By the fifth stroke Peach was already breathing harder, her knuckles white around her ankles.

Thwap!

“Six…!”

Snap!

“Seven…!”

Smack!

“Eight—Aaiiee!” 

Peach started to count the eighth stroke, but when the magical sting flared to life, it caught Peach off guard. She flinched, one foot slipping forward, and started to reach her hands for her bottom, before she caught herself. Her hands froze in midair. She could actually feel heat radiating in waves from her glowing, shining backside. 

Toadsworth’s voice was stern. “Princess Toadstool. Reassume the position immediately. That stroke will not count. Hold tight to your ankles, and keep your legs straight.”

Blushing furiously, Peach bent back over, gripping her ankles until her fingers ached. “Yes, sir…”

Toadsworth lowered the Star Rod and strolled in a circle around Peach. “You still had another twelve strokes to go. That number is now thirteen. Do not make this harder on yourself.”

Peach’s heart sank. “Only eight? I’m not even halfway…” she thought.

Toadsworth looked Peach in the eye. “Take a moment to catch your breath and compose yourself, Princess. Then, steady your stance, and raise your hips as high as you can, to properly present your fundament for your much-needed chastisement.”

She drew in a shaky inhale, trying to compose herself. As the burning warmth settled deep into her throbbing gluteus maximus, a new thought drifted through her mind. Twenty strokes total: one to represent each of her nineteen years, plus one to represent her coming twentieth birthday. 

It seemed strangely fitting, almost poetic. Peach was only a year and a half away from being old enough to inherit the throne. But if she was ever to become Queen, she needed to earn the trust of her people. 

Fighting to catch her breath, Peach bowed her head to her knees, not wanting to look Toadsworth in the eyes.

Toadsworth strolled back into position behind Peach, and tapped the Star Tod against her behind. “Shall we continue?”

Peach closed her eyes, and felt two tear drops dripping down her face. She thought about the pain in her aching bottom, as if it was an interesting object outside of herself. A masterful painting on the wall of her private chamber. A portrait of a chastised princess. 

Peach whimpered. “Yes, sir… I am ready to be spanked.”

Toadsworth wasted no time, and delivered the next blow.

Crack!

“Eight!” Peach cried out, concentrating on keeping her count correctly. The magical sting was building now, layer upon layer of hot, prickling fire that refused to fade between strokes. 

“How could I have been so foolish?” she thought, teeth clenched. “Just because I was bored… There’s no excuse for behaving like a selfish brat!”

Thwap!

“Nine!” 

How disappointed would Mario and Luigi be if they saw Peach like this? Bottom bare like a naughty child, bent over in this absurd pose. And if Daisy ever found out that Peach still got spanked at her age… Peach wondered if Daisy would tease her, or feel pity for her. She didn’t know which option would be more humiliating. Her eyes stang, her face flushed red, as hot and livid as the marks left by the Royal Star Rod itself, burning deep into her blazing buttocks.

Thwick!

“Ten!”

Thwup!

Peach choked. Finally, she was halfway there. “Eleven!”

She would never act so selfish and reckless again. Never ever.

Peach and Toadsworth fell into a steady rhythm. The cane strokes were inescapable, but not unendurable.

By the time Toadsworth reached the final three, Peach was trembling. Her legs shook, her fingers slippery against her ankles as she fought to hold position.

Peach glanced up and caught a glimpse of the stained-glass window at the opposite end of the throne room. It depicted Peach, holding her hands in prayer. “Please, God, give me strength. Just a little more…”

Thwap!

“Aaw! Eighteen! Oooh!” She let out a choked sob, but gripped her ankles tight.

Thwack!

“Oh! Nineteen! Aaauuu!” Fresh tears pricked her eyes, and this time, they streamed down freely, like waterfalls. Her whole body quivered, but Peach thought only of holding her bottom high. She had failed in her duty as a Princess. This spanking needed to be done.

Wha-crack!!

Peach craned her neck, and screeched. “Twen-neeeee!!”

Then, she slumped her head forward, loosing her grip on her ankles. Peach wanted to hold her head high and proud, like a Princess should. But that option had been taken away from her. She had sinned, and now, she must pay the price of her transgression: her dignity. 

But at the very least, she could still keep her buttocks held high, like a Princess should. 

Toadsworth brushed the Star Rods in gentle circles across Peach’s bottom, rekindling the earlier smarting stinging sensation. 

Peach’s head swam as she heard several voices having a whispered conversation around her. Perhaps she had been judged as lacking in grace and poise, and her punishment would have to start over, from the very beginning? “God, thank you for granting me the grace of this punishment. Please, let this pain be my guide. Amen.”

Finally, Toadsworth lowered the Star Rod. “You may stand, Princess… You took your punishment bravely.”

Peach rose on shaky legs, and quickly fumbled with trembling hands to lower her skirts. Her bottom ached with a deep, throbbing, angry heat that promised to linger for hours. 

King Toadstool leaned forward on his throne, and wiped a tear from his eye. “You have been punished enough, Peachy. But you will still have to write a formal apology, my dear. And you will deliver it as part of your public address at the Fireworks Festival. Your people must see that their Princess accepts the responsibility of her station.”

Peach curtsied, ignoring the pain, and smiled softly. “Yes, Father. I promise I will do my best.”

King Toadstool nodded approvingly. “Then off to your room now, Princess. Reflect on today.”

***

Once alone in her chambers, Peach carefully lowered herself onto the downy pillow she’d placed on her work seat, wincing as her smarting bottom pressed the soft cushion. 

The initial hot sting had dulled to a numb, icy ache.

She reached for her quill and parchment, already composing the words of her apology in her mind.

This time, she thought with quiet determination, she would give the speech everything she had. No more shortcuts. No more excuses. The Mushroom Kingdom deserved a Princess who could be trusted, and she was going to prove she could be exactly that.

Peach smiled, and got to work.

An F/F Cartoon Spanking Story

East Meets West: Alice the Angel Spanks Mina Ashido

By Yu May and Spider-Sans

On the bustling streets of Toon Town, a black-and-white paper boy, who looked like he was drawn by the Fleischer brothers themselves, was waving a dead-tree-edition newspaper to the passing crowd. “Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Indie animation making big waves on YouTube!”

Three cartoon passersby paused to examine the headline: a man drawn in the 4Chan MS paint style, a woman drawn in the slick digital painting style that A.I. likes to rip off, and a gender-non-comformist in the Tumblr art style. 

The woman cooed with delight. “Indie animation? Ooh, I love supporting independent animation projects!”

The man examined the newspaper with sympathetic eyes. “I dunno. Cartoons only seem to be good when they were made at the precise moment when I was growing up.”

The gender-non-conformist squealed, “Hey! At least our cartoons have realistic depictions of panic attacks!”

The woman waved a finger. “Now, you three, we’re all enthusiasts of the art of animation, aren’t we? Can’t we just agree to disagree on matters of taste, and come together to support independent animation.”

All three of them paused to consider this suggestion, humming. “Hmmm…”

Then, all three of them simultaneously pulled cartoon mallets, wrenches, and baseball bats with nails in them out of thin air, and started whomping on each other in the middle of the street.

The Fleischer brothers paper boy watched the proceedings with horror, and threw his newspaper to the ground in disgust. “Aw, man! Nobody buys newspapers any more!”

Then the boy grumbled, kicked a tomato can, and stomped away.

***

The tomato can sailed high into the air, bounced off a flag pole, was caught by a seagull, and after a delightful Rube-Goldberg-inspired sequence animated to a snazzy jazz track, the can finally landed in front of Alice Angel, co-star of the hit independent rubber-hose-style video game Bendy and the Ink Machine. 

She gasped at the sight. “Littering? That simply won’t do!”

Daintily, Alice Angel bent over to pick up the can, giving the camera a perfect view of her rear end, and tiptoed over to deposit it in the nearest recycling bin.

Ever since Japanese anime had finally gotten popular with normies, Toon Town had been booming. The 2000’s suburban district was under constant construction work, and Alice had volunteered to help with clean up as part of Captain Planet’s “Down to Zero!” Initiative.

Work was wrapping up for the day. The cast of Yogi Bear, We Bare Bears, and the public domain version of Winnie the Pooh were all settling down for a picnic.

Alice met up with her friends on the clean up team: Jessica Rabbit, Minnie Mouse, Betty Boop, and both versions of Lola Bunny. 

It had been five months since Alice had gotten in trouble for trying to steal Jessica Rabbit’s purse. After Jessica’s hand had finished having a “friendly little chat” with Alice’s bottom, Jessica had forgiven Alice and introduced her to her friend circle.

As the ladies made their way down the sidewalk, strutting their stuff, sexy bongo music played in the background, and literally every person the ladies passed by collapsed with red hearts in their eyes and big smiles on their faces.

The gals arrived at the Hidden City Cafe, the same joint where the core Pixar team had their legendary lunch/brainstorm session in 1994.

After they were served, Minnie Mouse took a sip of tea. “So, ladies, how’s work in Hollyweird these days? Any news?”

Jessica shrugged, and continued spooning an impossible number of sugar cubes into her black coffee. “Roger and I did a cameo in that Chip n’ Dale flick. We saw a little bump in our royalties checks after that.”

Minnie nodded. “Nice. We loved having you two on House of Mouse.” 

The sultry-sexy Space Jam version of Lola Bunny heaved a sigh. “It’s a crying shame Disney Plus shelved that project. Last gig I had was Space Jam 2.”

The goofy-sexy Looney Tunes Show version of Lola Bunny slurped on a milkshake, then nodded furiously. “Bugs got a cameo in Coyote vs. Acme. It was–like–bonkers trying to get that flick released. Mostly I’ve just been doing video game appearances. Ack! Brain freeze!”

Betty Boop adjusted her top. “Well, as of January, I’m officially in the public domain!”

Alice Angel blinked. “Sweet! Has someone made an indie survival-horror video game with you in it yet?”

“Just an off-Broadway musical so far. What about you, Minnie?”

Minnie sighed. “Oh, same old, same old. You know Disney corporate. Theme park appearances, more TV specials. Every day it’s something… Oh, Alice, where are my manners? I’m sorry. What about you?”

Alice spilled a few drops of her iced tea. “Oh… Not much since Bendy and the Dark Revival released. Nothing special, anyway.”

Minnie smiled. “Oh, don’t be so bashful, dear. That means there’s something. Do tell!”

Alice choked. “Well, it’s just another indie project. I’m afraid I’m nowhere near the big leagues yet.”

Jessica rubbed Alice’s back gently. “It’s okay, Alice. You’re one of us now.”

Alice sighed. “Sorry for being a downer. Guess I still feel like I’m still the new kid on the block.”

Before she could say more, Jessica pulled Alice’s face gently between her big, beautiful, soft breasts. Alice blushed deeply as Jessica patted her head. Jessica had offered Alice a shoulder to cry on anytime she felt sad or needed some comfort. But thanks to their height difference, that meant that Alice’s face usually ended up between Jessica’s cleavage. Alice didn’t mind.

Finally, Jessica pulled out of the hug, and ruffled Alice’s hair. “Feel better?”

Alice nodded silently, red-faced. 

Jessica gave Alice a warm smile. “That’s good,” 

Betty leaned across the table. “Don’t bag on yourself, angel cake. We love having you around.”

Space Jam Lola nodded. “Yeah, it’s super sweet how you read to kids at the library. And you have such a beautiful singing voice.”

“Aaaargh! Brain freeze!” screamed Looney Tunes Show Lola, before immediately starting to chug more of her icy, bottomless milkshake.

Minnie nodded. “You may be new to Toon Town, but you are one of us.”

Alice felt tears in her eyes, and quickly them away with a napkin. “Wow… you girls really mean it?”

Jessica sidled up close to Alice, scooped her up, and sat her down on her lap. “Of course we do, Alice. Now, I want to hear all about your little secret project!"

Alice smiled brightly. “Well, nothing too special. Bendy and I are gonna be in a movie, along with the rest of the B.A.T.I.M. crew!”

Betty’s eyes widened. “A movie? You’re joking!”

“Nope, it’s real,” Alice said proudly.

Space-Jam Lola leaned forward. “You have to tell us the plot!”

Alice gave them a playful wink. “Sorry, girls. It’s top secret. I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement and everything. Really, apart from that, it’s just more merchandising work and the spin-off games, and volunteer work around Toon Town. But it’s the weirdest thing lately, though… it’s like Toon Town’s changed completely, even just since I got here. It’s downright strange.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow. “Strange how?”

Alice cleared her throat. “Well, I’ve been seeing new toons around, but they’re not really toons? They’re drawn in this odd, pointy art style. I don’t really know how to describe it?” 

Betty Boop nodded. “I get what you’re saying. I’ve seen ‘em too. I’ve been seeing those two buff guys with spiky hair everywhere these days—Goku and Vegeta, I think—and some beach-bum kid in a straw-hat showed up at the diner, ordered the all-you-can-eat buffet, and ate all our food. You should have seen him! We had to roll him out of the club like a big rubber beach ball. He kept going on and on about he was gonna’ be the King of the Pirates someday.”

Minnie Mouse looked annoyed. “Did his name happen to be Monkey D. Luffy?”

Betty pursed her lips, looking cute. “You know him?”

Minnie stirred her tea violently. “Oh, I never stop hearing about One Piece at Disney corporate. ‘Why aren’t your comic books putting up the kind of numbers they used to? Why is One Piece kicking your tails in the Teen & Young Adults demographic? How’d we let Netflix get the live-action adaptation deal?’”

Looney Tunes Show Lola finally stopped chugging her milkshake, looking curious. “Really? So, what kind of toons are they?”

Minnie downed the rest of her tea in one shot. “Anime. Most of ‘em got their start in the Japanese comic industry. Manga is the word for ‘comics’ in their language, and anime is their word for animation. It’s been a thriving subculture for decades in the art-film scene, but now… every hack producer in Hollywood wants some sweet, sexy anime merchandise.”

Jessica smirked. “Sexy? Mmm, interesting.”

Alice glanced out the window. Sure enough, the demographics of Toon Town had taken a noticeable shift in the past few years. She recognized a blond girl with two buns and a school uniform as Usagi Tsukino of Sailor Moon fame as she left the diner. On the table next to them, two blue hedgehogs were having a chili dog eating contest. One was clearly drawn in Milton Knight’s expressive art style, while the other hedgehog had a sleek anime look to him.

At a table on the far end of the diner, a few of the villains from Batman’s rogues’ gallery were playing cards with a sharp-eyed kid in a baseball hat. A little yellow rat on the kid’s shoulder examined the boy’s hand and shouted, “Pika, pika!” in a deep, baritone, Danny Davito voice before taking a swig from a ketchup bottle.

On the other side of the room, Alice spotted Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable, sharing a table with a family she didn’t recognize: a tall, handsome man with blond hair, a sweet looking lady wearing a pristine black bun, and a little girl with pink hair and two decorative cones that resembled horns.

Alice overheard Kim Possible geeking out about her spy gear. “So basically, air ducts are always your friend if you ever find yourself trapped in a corner during a spy situation. I find a grappling hook is a good way to–”

The little girl pointed a finger at Ron. “Hey, Mister Stoppable-san, you have a crush on Miss Kim-chan, don’t you.”

Ron gagged. “What? Yes, I do—I mean—That’s none of your business!”

The blond man shook his head. “Anya, it’s not polite to pry.”

Kim snickered. “Ha, ha. I think she read you like an open book, Ron Stoppable.”

Anya pointed her finger right at Kim’s nose. “But you have an even bigger crush on Mister Stoppable-san, don’t you, Miss Kim-chan? Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

Kim blushed. “What? No I don’t—I mean—That’s none of your business!”

The black haired lady snickered. “Ah, I see. Ron Stoppable must be a fan of tsundere girls.”

Kim shook her fists. “I don’t know what tsundere is, but whatever it is, I’m not tsundere!”

Alice turned her attention back to the window, and took a deep breath at the sight of the teeming crowd. “Wow… Toontown sure is getting bigger.”

Jessica snickered, and poked Alice’s bosom. “That’s not the only thing getting bigger. Who did your boob job? I’ve been thinking about getting a reduction.”

Alice held her breasts with both hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Oh, these? Bendy asked the animators to switch from digital inking to using India ink. Physical media is more…substantive. It all went straight to my chest. I was annoyed with the animators at first, but… Bendy really seems to like it. Honestly, I kind of like the new look for my girlies, too. I get a lot more random compliments.”

Jessica grinned. “Welcome to the club. You can tell everything you need to know about an animator by the way he draws his women…” 

Jessica’s eyes lingered over Alice’s noticeably rounder curves. “This has been fun, gals, but I’ve got to bail. Roger and I have a hot date.”

Space-Jam Lola stood up. “Same. I gotta get home and shoot some hoops for the competitive Multiversus streamers.”

Betty yawned. “I’d love to stay and talk, but I need my beauty sleep.”

Minnie’s phone buzzed and she checked it. “And there’s Daisy. We’ve gotta join a Zoom call with Pamper’s Corporate. Gotta deal with a bunch of babies if you want to stay in the diapers business. Same time next week, girls?”

As they all got up to leave, Jessica looked at Alice. “You doing anything tonight, dear?”

“Oh, I’m just gonna walk around town, maybe go shopping,” Alice said.

Jessica waved. “Alright. Be careful out there.” 

Alice waved back. “I will. You too, all of you.”

***

The sun had set, and the streets of Toon Town were lit like a film noir picture. It was pretty spooky.

Alice clutched her purse tight. “Gee, sure hope I don’t get assaulted by any big, strong, tall, barrel-chested, muscle-bound type guys who wander the streets performing frequent violence!”

Out of the shadows emerged a big, strong, tall, barrel-chested, muscle-bound type guy wearing a black-and-grey costume and a mask with demonic-looking pointed horns. “I am vengeance. I am the knight.”

Alice waved. “Oh hi, Batman! What brings you to the junky part of town?” 

Batman nodded. “Justice.”

Then, the Bat-phone rang, and Batman checked it. “Never mind. I have to go fight Lola Bunny.”

With a flourish of his cape, Batman disappeared into the shadows.

Alice sighed. “It’s nice seeing so many new superhero cartoons, what with the rising crime rates and all.”

Above her head, a garish billboard blared with an image of a not-quite-topless Minerva Mink, advertising suntan lotion.

As she strolled home, she paused to witness two punks trying to carjack a semi truck. The truck transformed into Optimus Prime, who started scolding the thieves with a voice that was so deep, sexy, and authoritative, they immediately repented of their criminal ways.

Alice heard a junkyard dog bark, and turned to see a strange scene unfolding outside the local car dump. Two street fighters were beating an old clunker to scrap with their bare hands. 

Alice wondered if she should say something. Then, she heard a heroic, swelling orchestral score, and saw Spider-man swinging down majestically from the rooftops.

Spider-man landed on the fence above the scene, and shone a harsh light on the two pugilists. “Hey! What’d that car ever do to you?”

“You want to make something of it, eight-eyes?”

Spider-Man slammed a fist into his open hand. “Oh, it’s on now! I’ve been saving up my best quip material for–”

A green-haired bat lady poofed out of thin air behind Spider-man, and nuzzled up against him, boobily and breastily. “Oh, come on, Tiger. They’re just having a little fun. Why don’t you join us in a little car smashing contest? We can do Team Marvel vs. Team Capcom”

Somehow, Spider-man blushed through his mask. “But–but–my beautiful wife is expecting me!”

“Sweet. She’s welcome to join in too.”

Alice shook her head, and made her way past the junkyard. “It just doesn’t feel like the same town anymore. Crime. Corruption. Endless A.I. trash littering the streets.”

Grumbling, Alice stomped away from the junkyard. She passed by two devilish-looking rose-red cartoon ladies without stopping. The two succubi were wearing tags that announced them as “Extras.” 

Jazz the Succubus turned to watch Alice Angel’s ass as she walked away, and whistled at the sight of her bouncing booty. “Phew! Damn, just look at those buns move, Ruby.”

Ruby the Succubus smirked. “This gives me an idea for our roleplay night.”

“Mmm, lemme’ guess: angel gets captured by a demon, followed by a classic damsel in distress interrogation scenario in a medieval BDSM dungeon?”

“I was more thinking a little light rope play. With an obligatory spanking scene, of course.” 

Jazz purred softly. “You should play the damsel this time, Rubes. You’d make for a perfect angel.”

***

Dusk had set on Toon Town, but the city still sparkled with life in the commercial district. Alice bought the best burger she’d ever tasted from a food truck, manned by a cute, yellow sponge-boy who took immense pride in his work. 

Alice made her way to the park and settled on a bench to finish her meal. She was looking forward to another long, quiet, boring evening. “I should get home. Bendy’s probably home from work by now. And he worries so.”

Then, a strange, pink thing came flying out of the woods. The figure landed smoothly, seeming to glide along the grass in a blur, before it leapt twisting in mid air, on a direct collision course for the bench. Alice saw a woman’s posterior, clad in a skin-tight neon-colored camo pattern sweatpants, flying straight towards her face, and ducked to the side.

The pink thing slammed down onto the bench next to Alice. The bench rocked precariously on two legs, before settling back down with a thump. The pink thing turned out to be a woman with bright pink skin and hair, yellow horns, and black and orange eyes. She was wearing a skin-tight,  neon-green-and-purple unitard with boots and a fur-lined biker jacket. The woman yawned, and stretched her arms. “Whew! What a rush… Oh, sorry, lady, I didn’t see you there. I gotta be more careful. I could have crashed right into you, ass-first… Say, aren’t you Alice Angel? From Bendy and the Ink Machine? Omi’gawd! I’m such a fan!”

“Oh? You’ve played it?”

“Played it? I’ve hundred-percented it three times! I dig indie survival horror. I’m Mina Ashido, supporting cast of Boko No Hero Academia, by Kōhei Horikoshi.”

Alice blinked. “Is that… an anime?”

“First the manga, then the anime. The animators added about ten pounds to my butt, but it was a neat experience. We just wrapped up our final season.”

Alice struggled to remember anything she’d heard about the show. “Isn’t that… the one about the super-hero high school? So, are you still in school then?”

“I was at the start of the show, but I’ve graduated since then. I’m twenty-one now. I can get hammered now, and it’s completely legal!”

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen your show. I’ve heard it was a smash hit.”

Mina nodded, and slumped back onto the bench. “Best time of my life, sadly. The anime industry tends to be pretty one-and-done. I’m still getting a few video game appearances though.”

“Huh. That’s not too different for some of us ladies in the western animation industry, really. Don’t worry, I’m sure a beautiful girl like you will find plenty of work in Toon Town.”

Mina giggled. “Aww, stop, you’re making me blush.” 

Then, Mina looked Alice over more carefully, her eyes wide. “Oh my…”

“What are you looking at?” Alice asked, though she already knew the answer.

Mina blushed to a deeper shade of pink. “Oh, I’m sorry! It’s just… your breasts are perfect. Have you ever tried doing fanservice gigs? You’d make a killing.” 

“Fanservice? Is that like cheesecake?”

Mina examined the angel’s breasts more closely. “This is a bit of a weird request, but… may I please touch them?”

Alice blushed, considered the request for a second, then stood up. “Well, you did say please, so… of course.”

Alice folded her hands behind her back to present her chest. Mina reached out, holding her breasts gently. “Wow, they’re so heavy…” 

Alice giggled as she felt Mina play with her breasts. Mina cooed with delight. “They’re so soft and squishy! I can’t believe they’re real!”

Alice giggled. “Haha, well, I suppose I’d do anything for a fan.”

After a few minutes of playful fondling, Mina finally let go. Alice’s breasts bounced and jiggled back into place.

Mina shuffled her feet, looking strangely bashful. “Wow, thank you again for letting me play with your tits, Alice.”

“Aww, it was no problem. I appreciate the compliment, hehe.”

The wiled away an hour talking about video game appearances, cameos in other shows, and life in Toon Town. Finally, Alice checked the time. “Oh my, it’s ten o’clock already? I better get home.”

Mina jabbed her thumb against her breast. “If you want, I can walk you home. As a pro hero, it’s my job to protect the local citizens!”

Alice giggled. “Oh my, my own superhero bodyguard? Well, if you insist.”

As they walked past the banking district, they heard sounds of a commotion, followed by what sounded like a gunshot. Alice froze. “What was that?”

Mina crouched low to the ground, holding her hands together. “I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling. Stay here—it might not be safe.”

Then, Mina zipped away in a blur, gliding along the ground as if she was riding on roller skates. Alice felt something wet and sticky splash her leg, and checked it. “Huh? Is this slime? Hey! Wait for me, Mina!”

***

Outside the Toon Town First National Bank, a group of masked cartoon canines dressed in striped prisoner uniforms burst out the doors, carrying gigantic sacks of cash. The shortest of the group snickered. “This is poi’fect! Now that Scrooge McDuck is too busy spending all his time investing in the anime industry, we can rob this town blind! No one will be able to stop the Beagle Boys!”

“Not so fast, Beagle Boys,” said a disembodied male voice, echoing down from the sky.

“Eh, who’s talkin’, boss?”

“I’m the Narrator, of course. And if you’ll kindly stop stepping on my lines, I have to set up a dramatic introduction. Oh, no! The Beagle Boys! Is there any superhero brave enough to put a stop to their vile acts of larceny?”

In the distance, there was an explosion, and the kickass theme song of The Powerpuff Girls started playing. The Powerpuff Girls arrived in a streak of pink, blue, and green light, and immediately started beating the ever-loving-snot out of the Beagle Boys.

Blossom, the leader of the trio, held up the bloodied and bruised boss of the Beagle Boys by the collar of his shirt. “That will teach you naer-do-wells to respect other people’s property!”

Buttercup, the tough tomboy, pumped her adorable, fingerless fists. “Yeah! This is our turf! You ain’t in a Disney cartoon anymore, butt-sniffer!”

Bubbles, the comic relief, paused in the middle of punching an unconscious Beagle Boy. “Hmm… Do you think if we took them to Mr. Scrooge McDuck, he could put them in jail? I’ve always wanted to meet Huey, Dewey, and Louie. I have a feeling we’d get along. Our outfits are all color-cordinated the exact same way!”

Blossom scooped up the remaining gang members into a big dog pile with one hand. “Good idea, Bubbles. And it’s already past our bed time. We should get these criminals dropped off, before the Professor starts to worry.”

Buttercup scoffed, and started slapping her rear end. “C’mon! What’s the Professor gonna’ do? Spank us?”

The Narrator’s voice echoed from above. “Uh, girls, as a professional courtesy, I think it’s only fair to warn you. You’re not actually in an official episode of the cartoon. This is an unofficial, fan-made parody made by people with a blatant spanking fetish.”

Buttercup froze, mid spank. “But that means…the Professor could actually spank us?”

Bubbled gasped. “Oh, no! I hate spankings! They hurt!”

Blossom pointed to the sky. “Then there’s no time to waste. Let’s go girls!”

The Powerpuff Girls flew away, carrying the battered bodies of the Beagle Boys with them.

At that precise moment, Mina Ashida arrived at the scene. “Have no fear! For I am here to–”

Mina saw the Powerpuff girls flying away. “Dang it! Why the heck are Western superhero cartoons so fast paced? I can barely keep up!”

The Narrator’s voice boomed. “Meanwhile, at the Toon Town Second National Bank, which was directly adjacent to the Toon Town First National Bank…”

A second group of thugs burst through the doors of the Second National Bank, carrying gigantic sacks of cash. All of them were green-skinned, and weird looking. The leader of the group, who was of course Ace, brushed back his slick, greasy hair and laughed. “Ah, ha, ha! What’d I tell ya’ boys? My plan worked! Now that the Powerpuff Girls are too busy dealing with those Beagle Boy bozos, we can rob this town blind! No one will be able to stop the Gangreen Gang!”

Big Billy, the biggest, fattest member of the gang, scratched his head. “Duuuh… So what do we do with all this money, boss?”

Ace poked Big Billy’s big belly. “Whatever we want, big guy. It’s ours now!”

Snake, who looked like a snake, hissed happily. “Well, I know what I’m gonna do with my ssssshare.”

Lil’ Arturo, who was clearly Mexican, looked nervous. “Hey boss, shouldn’t we get going before the Powerpuff Girls show up?”

Grubber, who looked disgusting as always, burped loudly.

Ace waved his hand. “Hey, hey, don’t worry, fellas. Those babies are probably asleep by now. It’s past their bedtime, after all. Nyah, ha ha!”

“Not so fast, criminal slime!” 

Then, like a streak of pink lightning, Mina crashed into the Gangreen Gang, knocking them over like bowling pins with a perfect strike. She came to a screeching halt, recreating the iconic “Akira slide” shot that you’ve definitely seen even if you’ve never seen Akira. 

The gangsters groaned, rubbing their skulls and backsides. Ace gulped, his eyes bugging behind his slick triangular shades. “Oh no, it’s one of those new anime babe superheroes!”

Snake hissed with panic. “We better get out of here, bosssssss!”

Mina smirked. “Awww, what’s the rush, boys? Stay a bit longer—”

With an over-the-top, animated sakuga sequence, Mina spread her arms, and raised a wall of thick, white liquid, which she sent crashing forward in a sticky, viscous tidal wave. “Ashiddo Bēru!”

The camera cut suddenly (an old trick to save on animation expenses), and the Gangreen Gang were knocked over by the wave. The white liquid hardened around them, leaving them trapped in a sticky mess of acidic slime.

Mina clapped her hands, and bowed. “Hehe, didn’t even break a sweat!”

Big Billy blinked. “Uhhh, boss… we still getting pizza, right?”

“RRREEEE—shut it, Billy!” Ace snapped.

Alice hid behind a tree, watching the proceedings with keen interest. “Wow, I wish I had some popcorn.”

The police soon arrived, cuffing the Gangreen Gang and checking on the workers.

“Is everyone okay?” Mina asked.

A weird spotted cat-thing in a police uniform saluted. “Thanks to you, yes.”

“Oh no, don’t thank me. You’re the real hero, Officer Bonkers, from the criminally underrated Disney afternoon cartoon, Bonkers.”

Suddenly, the owner of the bank stormed out, his thin mustache bristling. “What have you done?!” 

He pointed at the remains of the stolen money. Half of it was melted in a steaming puddle of Mina’s acid. “It’s ruined! Ruined I say!”

Mina stared at the very green, very expensive puddle. “Huh? Sorry, mister. Guess I didn’t see it when I was capturing the criminals… Hold on, this makes no sense. My acid quirk gives me abilities similar to a snail. It shouldn’t be able to melt money in a few seconds!”

The banker flicked a dollar bill. “We use cartoon money at this bank! It’s not anti-acidic! You basically dipped it in turpentine!”

“But… The bad guys are cartoon characters, and I hit them with my acid. Why aren’t they melting?”

The banker waved his arms. “Because that wouldn’t be funny! Don’t you get it? Dropping anvils onto someone’s skull. Slamming someone’s fingers into a piano. Lighting a stick of dynamite instead of a cigar. If it would be funny for something to happen, then the laws of physics simply arrange themselves to allow it to happen! Don’t you know anything about how things work around here!”

Mina gasped. “Oh no! I forgot I’m not in Japan again! I’m so, so sorry, mister! Deeply—”

The bank owner roared at Mina. “You need to fix this immediately, young lady!” 

While everyone was distracted, Ace whispered. “Hey guys, now’s our chance!” 

Slowly, the Gangreen Gang stood, and started sneaking away on tiptoe, still held together by the solidified web of white slime.

Mina spotted them. “Hey! They’re escaping! Stop right there!!”

But the bank owner grabbed Mina by the arm. “Never mind those bottom-one-percenters. It’s not like they have any money. But you… You need to pay for what you did! You owe me five giant sacks, hilariously-overstuffed with stacks upon stacks of dollar bills, with a giant dollar sign helpfully printed on the side of the bag for visual clarity.”

Mina felt her pockets, and then noticed her skin-tight camo spandex had no pockets. At that moment, Mina wished she had been drawn by Rob Liefeld, who would have given her all the pockets she could ever possibly need. “But… I don’t have my wallet on me at the moment.”

“You don’t have the money? Don’t you understand how important money is…”:

The bank owner turned to mug at the camera, smiling wickedly. “We’ve got to have… money!”

Then, he snapped his attention back to Mina. “So, I’ll need the number of your insurance agent.”

Mina pressed a finger to her lips. “Well–ya see, Mister–the thing is… I don’t actually have one of those insurance guys? Plus, I’m kinda’ broke.”

The bank owner tightened his grip. “Then I’ll be taking payment out of your hide!”  

“W-what are you gonna do?”

The bank owner smirked, and led Mina toward a public bench. “Since you can’t fix the money… you must be disciplined. And I know just the way to handle naughty girls like you: I’m giving you a good, hard spanking.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “A… a spanking? But I’m too old for spanking, mister!”

“Nonsense. No one is ever too old for a spanking. Especially not when they have such an attractive, spankable buttocks. Now come along.”

Mina wailed, tugging uselessly at his arm. “No, no, please! Show mercy!” 

Alice watched, furious. The bank owner was being ridiculous. Mina had only been doing her job. “I have to do something!”

The bank owner seated himself. “Come along now, over my lap.”

Mina cried, trying to break free. “Please don’t do this!” Then, she tripped and flopped across the man’s lap, with her helpless buttocks in the perfect position for a spanking.

Alice charged out from behind the tree. “STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Both Mina and the bank owner turned to see Alice marching up.

Alice jabbed a finger under the banker’s nose, and pulled Mina roughly off his lap. “You can’t spank her, sir! She just saved you and your workers’ lives!”

Mina flopped down onto the street, landing on her butt. “Oof!”

The banker scowled. “But she ruined the money. Therefore, she must be punished.”

Holding Mina by the shoulder, Alice backed away, and took a calming breath. “I agree with you.”

Mina stiffened, then whispered in Alice’s ear. “What are you doing? I do not want to get spanked by some creepy old man!”

Alice whispered back. “Just play along. I have a plan.”

The bank owner looked at Alice. “You do?”

Alice stiffened. It hadn’t occurred to her that her whisper would still be within earshot. “Um…yes! A plan to punish her! That’s why I’ll be the one to spank this wannabe superhero.”

Mina yelped. “WHAT?!”

But Alice gave her a quick wink.

The bank owner raised an eyebrow. “Really? And why should you be the one?”

Alice spoke smoothly, and held up two fingers. “Well, two reasons. Number one, you still have to count up the remaining money and see if you can salvage some of it. And number two… no offense, but given your age, she probably won’t feel anything. I’m younger and stronger. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll be crying and begging for mercy.”

The banker’s mustache bristled. “Hey! That’s ageist!”

“Sorry, sorry, sir! But think about it! I’m younger and more…” Alice switched to a sweet, dulcet tone of voice, and added the last word with emphasis. “...firm-handed!”

Mina finally caught on, and affected her best theater kid voice. Unfortunately, she was a natural ham actress. “Oh please, mister! Don’t make me get spanked by the angel! I don’t want my perfect booty to be in pain! I want you to spank me! Please, please!”

The bank owner glanced at the money, then shrugged. “Well, since you’re so scared of the angel… I believe you should be spanked by her.”

Mina feigned horror. “What?! Oh please, mister, don’t do this!”

The bank owner shooed them off. “Go on now, get going! Don’t keep your spanking waiting. As for you, Miss Angel, you best teach her a lesson, you hear?”

Alice gave him a salute. “Aye aye, sir!” 

She turned to Mina, and started marching alongside her. “Come now, you’ve got a spanking coming right up… Hey, where do you live?”

Mina muttered under her breath. “It’s not that far. Just keep going straight until he can’t see us,” 

As the girls left, the bank owner went back to check the rest of the money. 

The Gangreen Gang were hiding behind a dumpster, snickering… Until the Powerpuff Girls appeared right behind them.

Blossom tossed her ponytail. “Going somewhere, boys?”

Buttercup crossed her arms. “You guys forgot your beating.”

Bubbles giggled. “I heard you guys are having meatloaf in prison. We better get you there as soon as possible!”

Ace gasped, and sunglasses fell off. “But… but… it’s past your bedtime! You’re gonna get in trouble!”

Blossom cricked her neck. “We called the Professor and told him we were scared of getting spanked for staying out so late.”

Buttercup pounded her fists together. “Yeah, he says he understands, that he’s not angry with us, and told us to stay calm and find a police officer to help us.”

Bubbles grinned so evilly, it was adorable. “Which is exactly what we’re gonna do, after we kick your butts!”

The gangsters all gulped audibly. Then, the screen went black, followed by a series of explosive effects and sounds of cartoon violence.

***

After getting safely away from the bank, Alice Angel and Mina Ashido ducked into the nearest alley. They both sighed in relief as they leaned against the brick wall behind them.

Mina hugged Alice. “Aah, thank you so much, Alice! You’re a lifesaver. You have no idea.”

Alice smiled. “Well, I had to do something. It just didn’t feel right. You did everything you could.”

“Yeah, that old guy was probably a pervert who just wanted an excuse to spank a hot young girl.”

Alice giggled.

Mina blinked. “You’re not really gonna spank me… are you?”

“Well… I didn’t exactly promise him I would. But it’s completely your choice, Mina. I don’t want to force you into anything,” said Alice, gently.

Mina thought about it. She didn’t like being spanked, but Alice had been nice enough to let her fondle her breasts… and being spanked by a sexy rubber-hose cartoon girl didn’t sound so bad. 

Mina looked at Alice’s curvy body, and swallowed. “Okay.” 

Alice crossed her arms. “Okay what?”

“I’ll let you spank me, Alice.”

Alice was taken aback. “Really? Mina, are you sure?”

Mina nodded, blushing. “Yes. I want you to spank me. I’ve been thinking this ass of mine could use some punishment." She gave her own butt a slap. “I’m supposed to be a hero. I should have been more careful. My friends and I teach our students to exercise control and responsibility… I guess I forgot that today. This spanking will remind me. Plus…” 

As she pinched the waistband of her skin-tight camo pants, Mina’s face turned bright red. “I did play with your breasts for a while. So it’s only fair you get to play with my ass.”

Mina turned around, and slowly lowered her pants to show off her beautiful, round pink booty. “Go on. Give it a feel.”

Alice’s face went red as she stared. “Oh my, Mina…” 

She placed her hand on Mina’s butt, rubbing and squeezing. It was incredibly soft, like a marshmallow. “Well, if you say so… let’s get this naughty booty of yours ready for its spanking.”

When they reached Mina’s apartment, Mina locked the door behind them. It was small, but cozy.

Alice took a look around. “Oh my, you keep a tidy home, Mina.”

“Thanks! I tend to get acidic slime everywhere when I use my powers, so I have to clean up a lot. I really need that deposit back. Come on, let’s go to my room so no one can hear us.”

Mina took Alice’s hand and led her to the bedroom. The bed was huge and incredibly soft. Alice felt like she was sitting on a cloud when she sat down. “Wow, this bed is really comfy.”

Alice patted her thigh. “Alright, Mina… over my lap.”

Mina tensed. “Wait! Can I take a shower first? I’ve been running around and I kinda smell.”

“Of course you may.”

“Okay. Just so you know, if you try to peep on me while I’m in the shower, I actually don’t mind, but as a seasonal anime waifu girl, I am contractually obligated to squeal, throw something at you, and call you a pervert in a tsundere fashion. Just know you have my consent to ogle me.”

Alice let Mina shower for a few minutes, before her curiosity got the better of her. The moment she peeked through the door, Mina threw a rubber ducky with such force, it left a duck-shaped impression on Alice’s face. Mina peeped from behind the curtain. “Eeek! Get out, you pervert… and thanks, I’m flattered.”

After Mina finished showering, Alice took one too. She sent Bendy a text message explaining she’d be spending the night with a friend and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. 

“He’s probably gonna spank me for worrying him,” she muttered, then laughed.

Alice wrapped herself in towels, and stepped out to find Mina waiting for her, still drying off from her own shower. Slowly, Mina dropped the towel around her waist, showing off her naked body. 

Alice couldn’t take her eyes off Mina: nice perky breasts (not quite as big as hers, but lovely and firm) and especially that amazing butt!

Smiling teasingly, Mina turned around to show her rear. “Hehe, like what you see?” 

Alice dropped her own towel. Mina’s eyes widened. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

Alice held up her arms. “Well, since I’m gonna spank you naked, it’s only fair if I’m naked too. Don’t be shy… take a good look!”

Mina walked around her, admiring every curve. “Wow, Alice… you have an amazing body.”

Alice glanced back. It was delightful to admire the nude form of someone who was in the middle of admiring your own nude form. “Aww, thanks. I could say the same about you.”

They spent a few minutes squeezing each other and petting each other, giggling the whole time.

Finally, Alice sat back on the bed. “Are you ready for your spanking, Mina?”

Mina crawled over her lap. “Yes, I’m ready, Miss Alice. Spank me.” 

Mina shook her butt teasingly.

Alice’s breath caught at the sight of Mina’s naked ass—it looked even bigger and rounder up close. “Oh my… what a beautiful pink booty you have.” 

She began rubbing it slowly.

Mina let out a little moan. “Ah… what are you doing back there?”

“I just want to give this bottom of yours a little massage. A trick I picked up from my friend Jessica Rabbit.”

Alice took her sweet time, squeezing and massaging both butt cheeks, spreading them, watching them bounce and jiggle.

Mina bit her lip, enjoying it. “Oooh… mmm… wait, you’re friends with Jessica Rabbit?”

“Yes, and Minnie Mouse, Betty Boop, and Lola Bunny. They’re amazing toons,” Alice replied, still playing with Mina.

Mina’s voice turned dreamy. “Ooh, I love Minnie Mouse! Did you know, Osamu Tezuka, the grandfather of manga, chose his career because he was inspired by Walt Disney? I’d love to get Minnie’s autograph from her?” 

“Oh? I’ll ask her to give you one. Minnie loves her fans.”

After finishing the playful massage, Alice patted Mina’s bottom. “Okay, I think that’s enough for the massage. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Mina looked a little disappointed, but nodded. “Yes, Miss Alice… I’m ready. Wait—you’re not gonna use a belt or hairbrush or anything, right?”

“No, I prefer my hand. I want to feel the same sting you do, so I know it hurts.”

Mina sighed with relief, and shook her booty invitingly. “Oh thank goodness. I prefer the hand anyway.”

Alice wrapped one arm around Mina’s waist to hold her in place, raised her hand, and brought it down with a loud, “SMACK!”

“YEOW!!!!” Mina yelped, eyes shooting open.

Alice began spanking steadily, watching Mina’s booty bounce and jiggle with every smack. Her own big breasts bounced to the rhythm of the spanking. 

Mina kicked her legs. “Ow! Ow! Oooh! Haaaa, it hurts!”

“I know it does. Do you want me to stop?” Alice asked gently.

“NO… no, please keep going,” Mina whimpered.

“As you wish.” Alice licked her palm and brought it down harder, leaving a stinging handprint. 

Mina yelled, but not too loud. They both knew full well that Alice was holding back from using her full strength.

After nearly an hour of slow, steady spanking, Mina’s ass was turning bright red. “Owie! Owie! Aahh! Ouch! Ouchie! Eey!”

Alice started spanking a little more firmly, and increased the pace to pepper every inch of Mina’s tingling buttocks. “Your ass is starting to get pretty red, sweetie. We’re almost done, okay? But I think you need something that will stick with you a while, to remind you to be more careful.” 

Mina was crying, kicking, and begging. “Yow! Eey! Please stop! My ass—I can’t feel it! Owie! Please, I promise to be a better hero!”

Alice hummed. “Mmm. You promise?”

Mina cries grew louder. “YES I PROMISE! PLEASE STOP! AAAHH!” 

Alice gave her a few more solid smacks, then stopped. She pulled Mina up into a big hug on the bed, holding her close. “Sssshhh, it’s okay. It’s all over. You did good, sweetie. I’m very proud of you.”

Mina sniffled, still crying softly. “I’m sorry for being so reckless… I promise to do better.”

Alice looked into her eyes and kissed her cheek. “You did your best, sweetie. That’s all that matters. You are a true hero. Would you like me to kiss your booty to make it feel better?”

Mina blushed and nodded. “Yes please… kiss my booty.”

She went back over Alice’s lap. Alice put on her lipstick and began planting soft, loving kisses all over Mina’s sore bottom, leaving pretty kiss marks.

Mina sighed in relief. “Mmm… that helps a little. Thank you.”

Alice smiled and hugged her tightly. Mina nuzzled her face between Alice’s naked breasts. Alice giggled, and rubbed Mina’s head. “My my, you like them, don’t you?”

Mina nodded, brushing her lips against Alice’s white flesh. “They’re very soft. Could I use them as pillows tonight?”

Alice landed a playful swat across Mina’s rump. “Of course you can. Now let’s get this naughty bottom under the covers. That should keep us warm and toasty tonight.”

They snuggled in bed. Mina kept her face happily buried between Alice’s breasts while Alice rubbed Mina’s warm, spanked booty with both hands.

“Since you have my boobs, it’s only fair if I get your booty tonight,” Alice whispered.

Mina giggled. “Yeah, go for it… Thank you, Alice. For the spanking and for being so nice and helpful.”

Alice smiled. “It was nothing, sweetie. Want to know a little secret? I didn’t even use my full strength on you.”

Mina looked up. “W-what? Why?”

“Only very naughty children or grown-ups need a real spanking… but you haven’t done anything bad. Not really,” Alice said softly.

Mina smiled. “Thank you, Alice. You’re the best.” She yawned. “Mm… so what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Alice yawned too. “I know a good breakfast place we can go to. But before that… you could spank me.”

Mina’s face was still nestled in her chest. “W-what? Seriously? You want me to spank you?”

“I spanked you. It’s only fair you do the same to me,” Alice said with a playful smile.

Mina grinned. “Welp… hope those heavenly cheeks are ready for my hand, angel.”

Both girls laughed softly as they drifted off to sleep together in each other’s arms.

***

Meanwhile, back at the diner, Looney Tunes Show Lola Bunna was still slurping on her bottomless milkshake. Mustafa, the background waiter character from Pixar’s Ratatouille, arrived at her table, clutching a menu. “Ma’am? I’m afraid the café is closing for the night.”

Lola Bunny held up a single finger, still sucking on the straw. Finally, she finished it, and slammed it down on the table. “Argh! Brain freeze!”

Red Rears for Rose and Rouge:

Chapter 6: Chaos Self-Control

It was a long morning of hard, sweaty work. Under Vanilla’s guidance, Amy Rose and Rouge the Bat pruned most of the dead oak tree, though the path Floral Forest Village remained blocked by the heartwood. They took a short break for a picnic lunch. Amy winced as she sat down on the picnic blanket, and looked out over the damaged trees in the grove. “Shoot, Rouge and I really did a number on the trees in this part of the woods, didn’t we?”

Vanilla took a dainty sip of water. “Yes, Amy, I’m afraid you did.” 

Cream sighed as she examined the chopped remains of the old oak tree. “Some of those trees were over a hundred years old.” 

Vanilla nodded. “I hope that cleaning up this debris will teach you and Miss Rouge a lasting lesson about the damage your actions can cause.”

Rouge raised an eyebrow. “Though it was really Gemerl’s energy blasts that did most of the lumberjack work.”

Vanilla snapped her head to face Rouge, and patted her lap ominously. “Energy blasts which were fired in self-defense. Do you perhaps wish to relitigate your case, Miss Rouge?”

Rouge stared at Vanilla’s lap. “No, ma’am. I’m ready to do my community service. No arguments.”

“A wise decision. I’d like us to at least clear the path this afternoon, then we should head home and prepare dinner for the Freedom Fighters before evening.”

Amy hung her head. “Mrs. Vanilla…do you think my parents will be mad at me, when they find out what I did?”

Vanilla turned to look at Amy. “You haven’t called them yet? Of course, you’ve been so busy. One thing after another.” 

Amy bit her lip. “But…do you think they’ll spank me? They always used to say if I ever got a spanking from Mrs. Vanilla, I’d get another spanking from them, as soon as I got home.”

Vanilla put a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Well, Amy, that’s up to them. They may decide to spank you, but I’m sure if you’re genuinely repentant, and acknowledge what you did wrong, they will be fair with you. I think you should call them tonight, and talk to them about everything that has happened. I’m sure they’ll listen to you, and give you a chance to give an account of yourself. You’ll have time after dinner, when you’re winding down for the night.”

Rouge took a bite of her blood orange, savoring it. “Hmm…so a spanking at school means a spanking at home? Glad I never had to worry about that rule. I was homeschooled.”

Vanilla sniffed, and started to put everything back into the picnic basket. “Well, Miss Rouge, whether or not your mother decides to spank you, as long as you are staying under my roof, I’ll ensure you have the proper guidance you’ve been needing.”

Nervously, Rouge and Amy helped put away the picnic basket. Then, Amy stood, holding her head high. “Mrs. Vanilla, seeing the damage I caused to this beautiful forest has got me thinking…and I’ve realized something important. I think, maybe, I ought to get a reminder spanking.”

Rouge’s ears twitched. “A what-kinda spanking?”

Vanilla ignored Rouge, looking at Amy intently. “Are you sure, Amy dear? You’ve been behaving well so far…at least, since this morning.”

Amy nodded, then bent to retrieve one of the green willow switches she and Rouge had cut earlier. With an effort, Amy handed it to Vanilla, looking her in the eye. “Thank you, Ma’am, but the more I think about what I did, the more I’m sure that just one spanking is far too merciful as a punishment for my wanton destruction of nature. I believe I deserve to be spanked every single day, for at least a week or two. Please, Mrs. Vanilla, I want you to spank me again.”

Vanilla accepted the switch. “So be it. In that case, you will get a good reminder spanking. I’m so proud of you, Amy, darling.”

Rouge flashed her bat fangs. “The hell’s a reminder spanking?”

Cream gasped, and clapped her hands over her mouth. “You shouldn’t use the H-E-double-hockey-sticks word! That’s light profanity!”

Vanilla tapped the willow switch against her thigh. “Miss Rouge, I have warned you about minding your tongue.”

Rouge rolled her eyes. “Good grief! Fine! What in the ever-loving inferno is a reminder spanking?”

Vanilla swung the switch against her open palm with a sharp snap, and squeezed the stick. “You’re about to find out, first hand. I think Miss Rose’s idea to reinforce the lesson we’ve been learning is an excellent suggestion. So you will be joining her. It’s time you got a taste of the switch across your naughty, bare bat bum!”

Rouge’s pupils shrank to pin pricks, before she clutched her white-panty-clad bottom. “Huh? But I’m being a good girl! I’ve been obeying you all morning!”

“You may have been obedient in your rote actions, but your attitude is in serious need of an adjustment. You might recall our little discussion about what it means to submit in obedience? Or do you need another visit to the woodshed to remind you of our agreement?”

Rouge stiffened, then dropped her hands to stand at attention. “No, ma’am! I’ll obey!”

Vanilla smiled gently. “Good girl. In that case, let’s get this little reminder spanking taken care of. Both of you, drop your britches, march straight to that log, and assume the position. Rest your hands on the log, and stick out your backsides to prepare for your switching.” 

Automatically, Amy dropped her skin tight, dark-purple pants, while Rouge fumbled to find the waistband of the white panties under her red mini skirt. Both girls looked like they were severely regretting their choice to switch outfits today. With their garments around their ankles, both Amy and Rouge were forced to scootch awkwardly toward the log. Amy approached the log from the left, while Rouge was on the right. Rouge scowled, and muttered under her breath. “A reminder spanking? Great idea! Thanks a lot, Amy!”

Amy pressed her lips into a tight frown, and grumbled through gritted teeth. “Hey, I just wanted to take some accountability. You got yourself into this fix, bat-brain!”

Vanilla flicked the switch lightly against their behinds, with two quick little taps. “None of that bickering! When it’s time for two naughty, silly little girls to get a good spanking, they should be seen, and not heard. Bottoms up, ladies! Right now!”

Both Amy and Rouge squeaked in unison. “Yes, Mrs. Vanilla!” 

Immediately, both girls slapped their hands against the log and arched their backs to present their quivering, bare buttockses. 

Vanilla sighed with relief, then winked at Cream, who giggled. Even for a mother as authoritative as Vanilla, three girls were a lot for one woman to wrangle. “That’s more like it. Since this is a reminder spanking, I think it would be worth reflecting on our misfortunes from yesterday. I want both of you to put your thinking caps on, and answer my questions. Amy, let’s start with you…”

As Vanilla addressed Amy, she approached Rouge from the right, and tapped the switch across both of their bottoms at once, so the tip of the switch touched against Amy’s left butt cheek. “Yesterday, you girls earned four separate spankings–not counting your additional bedtime spanking–for four separate offenses. What was the first thing you did wrong, which got you into trouble to begin with?”

Amy was already thinking of the answer as she saw the littered debris scattered across the forest grove. “I went on a foolish escapade, hurt poor Mister Gemerl, and got into a big squabble with Rouge.”

Vanilla whipped the switch across both girl’s bottoms at once. Both girls yelped, but Amy gasped with keen surprise as she felt the tingling aftershock, right where the tip of the switch had landed against her left buttock. Slowly, Vanilla strolled behind the girls to approach Amy’s left side, and tapped the switch across their bottoms, this time resting the tip against Rouge’s far right buttock. “Correct, Miss Rose. That foolhardy fighting earned you girls your first spanking. Rouge, you’re next. What did you do that earned you a second round of spanking in the woodshed?”

Rouge hissed, struggling to catch her breath and stay composed. “I just had to be a smart ah…I mean, I ran my smart mouth. I was obstinate, and defiant, ma’am.”

Vanilla responded with a second stroke of the switch, and when Rouge felt the tip of the switch impact her right buttock, she squealed at a high, bat-echolocation-level pitch, almost beyond the range of the human ear. Vanilla let the moment hang, until Rouge’s screech finished echoing, and began to stroll back to her original position. “Very well articulated, Miss Rouge. Both of you earned a second spanking, along with bare bottoms, for deliberate disobedience. As I warned you, you were both due a bedtime spanking already, and a bare bottom usually remains bare until the spanking is completely over. Nevertheless, I chose to show mercy, and allow you girls to cover your bottoms, so as not to add any needless embarrassment to your predicament. Miss Rose? It’s your turn. What earned you your third spanking yesterday, during tea time?”

Amy flinched as she felt the tip of the switch, and started to snivel, her voice starting to choke. Tears of remorse were already budding against her eyelashes. “We…started fighting again. Right…right after…you told us not to!”

Amy screamed as she felt the brunt of the third stroke of the switch, like a thin line ripping across her helpless hindquarters. Rouge gagged, then bit her lip hard. Vanilla tapped her foot a few times, then started marching back to their left side. “I’m afraid so. You willfully misbehaved, in public. Therefore, I chose to correct you in public. The neighbors might have guessed that you girls had a spanking coming, but you at least would have been granted the dignity of being spanked in private.”

In answer, both Amy and Rouge made whining, whimpering sounds of sorrow, before Vanilla tapped them both across their behinds with the switch, aiming the tip against Rouge’s right buttock. “No whining allowed. Miss Rouge, you’re up. In the kitchen, both you and Amy earned a fourth spanking. What did you do to earn it?”

“I burnt the cake because I’m a bad…a bad cook!”

The fourth stroke of the switch came crashing down, and both girls’ eyes popped open. Amy’s knees nearly buckled, before she steadied herself, but Rouge strained her back as she reared back her head and screeched. “Aaiieeeeee!”

Vanilla hummed, and tapped the switch gently across their bottoms, brushing the tip against the angry red welts left by the last two strokes. “And that’s four. But could you perhaps be a bit more specific, Miss Rouge?”

Rouge gulped for air, her voice shaky, as two tears spilled down her cheeks. “I…I wasn’t paying attention! Aaaw! I’m a bad girl! I’m a bad, bad, bat girl! Baw! Aauu!”

As she heard Rouge breaking down next to her, Amy felt the dam starting to break, and let her own tears fall freely in thick, wet trickles. “And I was sassy, back-talking brat! I’m sorry, Mrs. Vanilla! Ah…I’m so, so, sorry! Aaw! Wuuaaaaah!” 

Vanilla strolled to Rouge’s right side, and started tapping the switch again, more firmly this time, and aimed across their upper thighs. “Chin up, ladies. Now’s not the time for tears. You’re big girls, and I want you to keep your wits about you. I still haven’t decided how long your reminder spanking is going to be, so until we finish this discussion, I expect proper answers to my questions. Miss Rouge, how does it feel, knowing that everyone in Floral Forest village has seen you girls get a good, hard spanking? Right on your naughty, naked little bottoms? Did that make you feel like a strong, independent woman?”

Rouge started to whinge, before she felt the love taps of the switch, and checked herself. “No, Vanilla!”

Vanilla kept up the steady pattern of love taps across both their bottoms. “And Amy, did you enjoy being put in timeout in front of everybody, like a misbehaving child?”

Amy’s voice fluttered as she caught her breath. “No, Mama, no!”

Vanilla felt her heart swell as she heard Amy’s slip of the tongue, but she kept her voice firm. “What about the company we are having over tonight? Both Mister Tails, and Mister Knuckles are planning to attend…” 

At the mention of Knuckle’s name, Rouge’s ears twitched, and she caught her breath.

Vanilla kept on tapping at a soft, steady pace. “...No doubt, Mister Sonic will join as well. Amy Rose, am I going to have to give you another bare bottom spanking, in front of all your closest friends?”

Tap, tap, tap. 

Amy shook her head. “No, Mom—ah—no, ma’am! I’ll be good!”

Vanilla hummed theatrically. “Hmm. Miss Rouge, what would you prefer? Would you like to finish this reminder spanking early? Or–” 

“Yes! Finish it, please!”

Vanilla cut off Rouge with a firm tap of the switch, before brushing it lightly along one of Rouge’s angry welts. “Hold on, young lady, I wasn’t finished. What I mean to ask is, which is better? Would you rather get a reminder spanking, right now, before our guests arrive, to help you remember to behave yourself? Or would you rather risk forgetting yourself, and earning a harder, bare-bottom spanking later, with all of them watching?”

Vanilla’s ears drooped as she considered the question. “Um…both options sound bad, ma’am?”

Tap, tap, tap. 

“An astute observation, Miss Rouge. But consider this: I understand your former comrade-in-arms, Mister Shadow, will be joining us for dinner tonight. It seems he’s finally accepted his invitation to join the Freedom Fighters. Now, let’s suppose that you forget to behave like a lady tonight, and earn yourself another bare-bottom spanking…then by the rules of the house, you can expect to keep your bare bottom on display, for the rest of the night. Imagine having to serve dinner while wearing an apron, and nothing else. How does that sound to you? Good, or bad?”

“Uh…sounds bad, ma’am?”

Vanilla lowered the switch, looking Rouge in the eye. “Amy asked for this spanking of her own free will, to act as a reminder for her. I’m satisfied you’re ready to fix your attitude, Rouge, so now it’s your turn to choose. Do you wish to stop your reminder spanking now, before I finish with Miss Rose? Or would you like me to give you the reminder spanking she’s getting, to help you not forget to behave?”

Rouge swallowed, and felt her throat going dry. “I…want to behave, ma’am.”

“And do you need a spanking to help you remember to behave?”

Rouge forced a smile. “I–ah–sure hope not?”

Then, Rouge’s red miniskirt flopped down, covering her drooping tail, which was literally hanging between her legs. 

Vanilla let the moment hang. “It’s not a trick question, Rouge. I’m giving you the chance to back out from this spanking. Or you can get a little reminder, along with Amy.”

Rouge looked into Vanilla’s calm eyes, then reached back to lift up her own skirt, fully exposing her bottom again. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess a little reminder couldn’t hurt. Ya know–the carrot and stick treatment?”

“Speak plainly, Miss Rouge. Say what it is you want me to do, out loud.”

Rouge placed her hands on the log. “...Please, give me a spanking, Mrs. Vanilla. I want the same as what Amy gets.”

Vanilla nodded, and finally delivered the fifth stroke of the switch. Unfortunately, although Rouge wanted to get the same treatment as Amy, it was Amy who got the short end of the stick, meaning the tip of the switch across her left buttock. As Amy wailed, Vanilla strolled behind them.

“And what about you, Amy? Are you experiencing any buyer’s remorse?”

Amy groaned, feeling the last four welts stretch as she tensed her glutes. “It’s…no fun getting spanked. But I think I need it, to really help the lesson stick with me. Maybe not a whole lot more spanking, but…I need more than a few love taps. You’re always so fair-minded, Mrs. Vanilla. I trust you to decide how long my spanking should be. So…please, finish spanking me, ma’am.”

Vanilla took a deep breath, and flashed a buck-toothed smile. “Aw! You’re both such sweet young ladies. I can’t stay mad at you. In that case…”

With precise force, Vanilla snapped the switch across their bottoms, aiming the tip at Rouge’s right buttock. Rouge roared as she felt it leave a fresh, throbbing welt at the point of impact.

“There! That should do for a little reminder spanking. Six stripes in total. That’s rather fitting. Did you know, they used to refer to a caning as ‘six of the best instructors,’ because six was the standard number of strokes teachers used to give to their students. Isn’t that simply fascinating?”

Amy and Rouge blinked, as anime sweat beads trickled down their foreheads. Rouge licked her lips. “Uh…wow? School rocks.”

Amy smiled meekly. “Thank you for spanking us, Mrs. Vanilla. We won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, Amy. Up you get, girls. You may get redressed. Would anyone like a hug?”

Forgetting to pull up her spandex pants, Amy rushed to hug Vanilla, before Rouge approached tentatively, whistling as she pulled her panties back up across her glowing behind. Amy sniffled, then pulled Rouge roughly into the group hug. 

Cream cheered. “Yay! Spanking is over! I know I didn’t get a spanking, but can I have a hug?”

Rouge beckoned with her fingers. “Get over here, Crème. The more the merrier.”

Cream squeaked with glee, then flew to hug Amy and Rouge. Unfortunately, since Cream was so short, that meant she accidentally brushed her arm across both Amy and Rouge’s sore behinds. As they both felt a twinge, Amy and Rouge sucked down a breath. Cream pulled back. “Oops, sorry!”

Amy exhaled, then smiled. “It’s okay. Sometimes love hurts.”

…

 Amy winced as she felt her hindquarters twinge. “Good grief…the switch really leaves a mark. I can barely walk in this condition.”

Flapping her leathery wings, Rouge fluttered alongside Amy, flashing a lazy smile as she spun around in midair. “Does it? Imagine that!”

“Do you have to rub it in, Rouge?”

Rouge hummed theatrically. “I thought we weren’t allowed to rub after a spanking.”

Cream bounced on her heels, raising her hand. “Ooh! Excuse me, but that’s not quite right. We’re not allowed to cover our bottoms during a spanking.”

Vanilla patted Cream on her head. “That’s exactly correct, Cream. And since the reminder spanking is officially over, both of you girls may attempt to rub away any lingering stinging…if you think it will help.”

Instantly, Amy and Rouge both clutched their butt-cheeks with both hands, massaging furiously. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thaaank you!”

Amy paused as she spotted the thatched roofs and chimneys of Floral Forest village, and dropped her hands demurely, glancing down at her immodest outfit. “Um…Mrs. Vanilla, I’ve been thinking…about this borrowed outfit? Will I have to serve Sonic, wearing nothing but this?”

Vanilla shook her head. “Of course not. You should wear an apron, to protect yourself against spills.”

Rouge’s ear twitched, and she peered out of the corner of her eye with undisguised amusement at Amy’s predicament. Amy’s face flushed beet red, and she covered her chest. “But…isn’t this outfit a little…immodest for polite company?”

“Did you think it was immodest when you tried it on, without asking?”

Amy hung her head. “I regret doing that. It wasn’t very polite of me.”

Vanilla nodded. “I’m glad to see you’ve been reflecting on the matter. Miss Rouge has already forgiven you for the matter, so I think you’ve been punished enough. Of course you may change into another outfit, Amy. You’re old enough to decide what you want to wear, after all.”

Amy’s face brightened, and she hugged Vanilla tight. “Really, I am? Oh, thank you, thank you, thaaank you!”

Rouge landed gracefully next to them, pinching the hem of her red skirt. “So that means I can change out of this Sunday school getup, right? After all, if Amy’s old enough to dress the way she wants, I certainly have to be. I’m older than her!”

Vanilla glared at Rouge. “This is a formal dinner, Miss Rouge. And you’re technically not a member of the original Freedom Fighters.” 

“Yeah, but I’ve done plenty of espionage work for Princess Sally. She likes me.”

“Still, since you are attending as my guest, perhaps you should consider wearing something a little more discreet?”

Rouge gestured at her ample bosom, which Amy’s dress did little to disguise. “As a master spy, I think I’ve learned all I need to know about discretion.”

Vanilla smiled, and wrapped an arm around Rouge’s waist, forcing her to walk alongside her at a brisk pace. “Very good. In that case, I will trust you to choose something appropriate to wear…” Vanilla patted Rouge playfully across her sore bottom. “...So let’s avoid anything that’s unnecessarily embarrassing tonight. Do we have a deal?"

Rouge tensed as she felt her fresh welts throbbing madly at the slightest touch. “You got a deal, Mrs. Vanilla!”

Using her ears to fly, Cream fluttered alongside them, pouting cutely. “Mommy, if it’s all right with you, may I wear my new outfit to dinner tonight?”

“I don’t mind, but since it’s Amy’s dress, I believe it’s her decision.”

Amy, who had been deep in thought, suddenly snapped to attention, noticed Cream, and smiled. “Huh? That old thing? Sure, Cream, you’re welcome to keep it forever!”

Cream spun in mid air. “Yay! Thank you, Amy. Orange is still my favorite color, but I think this shade of green is simply lovely!”

Vanilla giggled. “Then all that’s left is to drop by the woodshed and–oh–fear not, ladies! I’m not planning to spank you again. Just need to pick up a few spare…chairs?”

Vanilla trailed off as they approached the woodshed, and heard the sounds of crisp, echoing slaps. It was unmistakably a spanking in progress…no, multiple spankings all at once. The door of the shed had been propped wide open, and in front of it, three of Vanilla’s neighbors had seated themselves on wooden stools. Instantly, Amy recognized Mr. Quokka from earlier that morning.

Then Amy finally put two and two together. 

Barry the Quokka, Buddy the Fox, and Honey the Squirrel were all bent over their parents’ knees, bawling, blubbering, and ballyhooing their way through a blistering, bare-bottomed beat-down. Mr. Quokka was busy paddling his son, appropriately, with a small hand paddle. He looked up when he noticed Vanilla approaching, but didn’t pause the ongoing spanking. “Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Vanilla. I hope you don’t mind, but we had to make use of your woodshed. Family emergency, you see!”

Buddy’s mother, Mrs. Fox, nodded as she used a sturdy wooden hairbrush to punish her son. “You wouldn’t believe it! We were just discussing with Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel about scheduling use of the woodshed, when who should come charging in but these hooligans? Yelling that they needed to confess their crimes!”

Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel were taking turns spanking their daughter. They were in perfect synch, though while Mrs. Squirrel wielded a hefty wooden spoon, Mr. Squirrel used only his hand. 

Mrs. Squirrel hummed, thoughtfully. “Hmm…and I already spanked Honey only yesterday. I hope you don’t mind, Mrs. Vanilla, but some on-the-spot discipline was called for. And since the woodshed is a bit cozy for seven, we decided to get this taken care of in the open, right here and now. Lovely day to deal with a few young naer-do-wells, isn’t it?”

Vanilla shared a knowing look with the girls, before turning back to watch the spanking in progress with calm approval. “It most certainly is. And what crimes might they have plead guilty to?”

Mr. Squirrel puffed his cheeks, then popped his daughter one across her bright-red bottom, just below her bright-red squirrel tail. “Stealing! Can you believe it? They ran off with Mr. Quokka’s antique camcorder!”

Mr. Quokka harrumphed, then landed another firm wallop across his son’s tail. “And they scuffed up the casing! You’d better hope you didn’t break it, buster! Jostling it like that. That camcorder’s a memento from film school!”

In response, Barry, Buddy, and Honey all howled various combinations of apologies, pleas, and promises to be good, before their parents all landed another spank in unison.

Amy glanced at the camcorder. “Any idea what they were filming?”

Mrs. Fox sighed. “Oh, some sort of documentary, apparently. A school project, I think? We haven’t quite had time to interrogate them properly.”

Barry made a howling noise, that trailed off into a sob.

Mr. Quokka grumbled. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll find out. I want to know exactly what was so important they thought it was a good idea to record over one of my prized VHS tapes. Some of those are at risk of becoming lost media!”

Mr. Squirrel gasped. “Disrespecting historical artefacts? The very idea!”

Mrs. Squirrel clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t worry, Mrs. Vanilla, I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this. On a related note, would you mind if I reserved the woodshed from three to four o’clock for the next week or two? I’m afraid our little trouble-making tomboy has lost herself the privilege of sitting down comfortably for a good long while. I’m sorry, Mrs. Fox. I’m sure Honey was the ring-leader in all this mischief.”

Honey the Squirrel shook her head wildly, before a particularly hard set of whacks landed in a one-two combo, and she broke down completely, crying her heart out. 

Mrs. Fox beamed. “Oh, my boy may look innocent, but he can be a scheming little fox if I let him. Still, is such a sensitive soul. I think he’s quite sorry already. Aren’t you, dear?”

By this point, Buddy the Fox was whimpering, tears and snot and drool dribbling down his face. 

Mr. Quokka’s ears stood up. “Say, why don’t we all make this a daily meet up? If we spank them at three o’ clock every day, that will keep the woodshed open for other parents in need…and their children in need of a spanking.”

At this news, Barry the Quokka started to stammer incoherently, before a resounding whack of the hairbrush cut him off entirely.

Mrs. Fox giggled. “How considerate. That’s an excellent suggestion. Since these three like getting into trouble together, it’s only fitting that they get spanked together, too.”

Mr. Squirrel examined his daughter’s upturned bottom sagely. “Of course…we’d still have to spank them outside the woodshed, for all the world to see.”

Mrs. Squirrel clicked her teeth. “Yes. But to be honest, I think Honey’s probably the most likely culprit to tease other children about getting spankings. But she’ll soon be cured of that habit, won’t you, Honey?”

In contrast to the two boys, who seemed to have given themselves over to mindless panic, Honey was weeping softly, as if with tears of genuine remorse. “Yes, Mommy, I promise, I’ll be a good girl from now on! I’ve learned my lesson! Honest!”

Mr. Squirrel harrumphed. “Nice try, but I know crocodile tears when I hear ‘em. Hamming it up won’t convince me to wrap up this spanking early.”

Honey dropped her hands from her face to reveal perfectly dry eyes, shaking her fists as she struggled to lift herself. “Hey! I’m no ham actor! I’m a thespian!”

But when Mr. Squirrel landed the next ferocious spank, Honey howled, and flopped back down across her parents laps, real tears springing to her eyes. 

“Apparently, she’s a method actor,” thought Amy Rose.

Vanilla bowed her head, then gestured toward her house. “Of course, you’re welcome to use my woodshed as often as you need. Good luck children. Can’t wait to hear more about your documentary on the crime of littering, and its effect on the local bird population.”

As they approached Vanilla’s house, they could overhear the sounds of all three members of the trouble-making trio howling and wailing, before their final, desperate attempts to explain themselves melted into unrelenting sobs. 

It was a cacophony of castigation! The tumult of tears! The din of despair!

Cream glanced behind her shoulder one final time, with pity in her eyes. “Gosh, mother…will you ever have to spank me like that?”

Vanilla kissed cream on the top of her head, and closed the door behind them, cutting off the horrible sounds. “Of course not, Cream. You may make mistakes from time to time, and require correction. But you’re much too well-behaved to ever merit a spanking like that. Now, to business. Amy, dear? Rouge, darling? Go get changed at once, please.”

Amy and Rouge both answered politely, curtsied, and hustled up the stairs. In their bedroom, they peeped through the window, and spotted their former tormentors below, still suffering through their ongoing torment. The triple-spanking session had paused, but only long enough for the parents to exchange implements, and start round two.

As Rouge gracefully stripped off Amy’s red dress, she smiled at the sight. “Deserved.”

Amy almost tripped as she stepped out of Rouge’s skin-tight, purple spandex. With a sigh of relief, Amy put her arm around Rouge’s shoulder. “For once, we can agree, Brat-girl! Those snots deserve a spanking almost as much as you do.”

Rouge clapped Amy playfully across her bright pink posterior. “Whatever you say, Little Miss Bubblegum!

Amy stiffened, then glared at Rouge furiously, clenching her fists. “Could you not? I really don’t want to earn another spanking for decking you. 

Rouge smiled softly. “Not even if Sonic gets a front row seat to watch it?”

Suddenly remembering she was naked, Amy tensed her shoulders, blushing as she covered her bottom. “No! Especially not while he’s–I mean–not while our friends are here! 

Then, Amy relaxed, and held out a hand. “…So, what do you say we make peace? I’m not saying we have to be besties, just…a truce of sorts?”

Rouge examined Amy’s hand, then yawned, and stretched her arms, letting her bare breasts bounce beautifully. Suddenly, Rouge grabbed Amy by the shoulders and lightly kissed the stunned hedgehog twice, once on either side of her face. Finally, Rouge reached around to pat Amy’s bottom playfully. “You’ve got a deal, Amy Rose.”

Amy noticed she was still sticking her hand out awkwardly. Not knowing what else to do, she returned Rouge’s gentle embrace, and softly petted Rouge’s bottom in return.