Talking BackThe one thing that my mother never allowed was talking back. Around the age of twelve or thirteen I started to get a little brave and began talking back some. My mother was remarried by then and my step-father didn't allow it either. One day I was really irritated at a friend at school, I didn't feel like doing my chores or my homework, or really being around anyone. It was just one of those days. Of course I was expected to have the kitchen clean when my mom and step-dad got home so that mom could make dinner. Plus, my homework was supposed to be done and my room straightened up. Instead of doing all of this, I went into my backyard and sat in the garden reading and basically just destressing. When my step-dad arrived home he called me in and asked my why I hadn't cleaned my room or the kitchen. I explained that I just wasn't feeling well and why. He said he understood but I couldn't just ignore my responsibilites because I had a bad day. He told me not to worry about my room for the night, I could do it tomorrow, but I needed to clean the kitchen and get my homework done. I only had the dishes to do and wipe off the counters. Pretty reasonable, right? I didn't see it that way for some reason. I mumbled how unfair he was under my breath, went back out to the garden and slammed the door. I sat there in the swing and mostly just pouted about how unfair life was. I heard mom get home about ten minutes later and saw her talking to my step-dad in the kitchen. My neighbor, Jackie, was standing beside her. I could tell I was in trouble. They all three came out. Apparently my neighbor wanted some of the plums from our tree and they'd told her to come on out and get some. My step-dad told me to get inside and do my chores, and that since I had been rude about it, I was grounded for a week. I told him no. My mom pulled me up from the swing and slapped my butt with her hand, telling me to do what I was told or I could get the paddle. I told her I didn't have to listen to either of them and I was too old for a spanking. I was twelve. This time my step-dad snatched down my skirt and panties and smacked my bare bottom three times, ordering me to go get the paddle. I was in tears by then and said no again. This time he sat on the swing, pulled me over his lap, and gave me ten good licks. He put me on my feet and told me that if he had to send my mother after the paddle, I could count on getting it every night for the next two weeks. (I was now grounded for two weeks, by the way.) I refused. So he pulled me back over his lap and spanked my butt with his hand until my mom got back. I cried and yelled, and tried to get away. I kicked my feet the entire time. My butt was on fire by the time she got there and she had the belt instead. He put me back on my feet. I danced around trying to make the burning stop. He told me to bend over the swing. (This was a big wooden bench type swing on a fr
"I don't want to," I replied and I realized I was naked from the waist down at that time and started to pull my skirt up. He grabbed my arm, leaned me over the swing, and whipped my butt with that belt until I was crying so hard I couldn't even talk.
"Are you done with being disrespectful?" he asked.
"Yeah," I answered. Another smack with the belt. "Yes sir!" I cried out.
"Why did you get a spanking?" he asked.
"For telling you no and for being smart to you and mom."
"Did you deserve your spanking?"
"Yes. Yes sir."
"And do you think you deserve ten licks every night for the next two weeks while you are grounded?" We always got spankings every day we were grounded.
"Uhhh. Yes sir." I was still bawling.
"Apologize. Then you can lay here with your red bottom showing for the next twenty minutes. After that, pull up your skirt, get inside and clean the kitchen, do your homework, and clean your room. If you are respectful, I won't have your mother spank you again before bedtime, even though she probably deserves to after the way you spoke to her."
Needless to say, I got another spanking that night from my mother. She just pulled me over her knee at the dinner table, pulled my skirt back down, and gave me about ten licks with her hand because I had gotten an attitude over something she asked me about. I didn't talk back or tell them no for probably two months after that. My butt was so sore I had to sleep on my stomach that night and every night after that for the next two weeks.