~BBW SPANKING STORY BY FIRMLY2
Firmly2
Beth's New Home by firmly2
When my sister died in a car accident on Long Island in 1974, her sixteen-year
old daughter, Beth, came to live with us on our ranch house outside Nacadoches,
a small town in eastern Texas. Having visited my sister and brother-in-law the
previous Christmas, we knew Beth was a spoiled, east coast brat and wondered
about taking her in. After much discussion, we both decided it might work but
only if Beth came under the same strict standards and methods of upbringing
which had been proven successful with our twelve and ten year old daughters,
Cindy and Tammy. While there was nothing unusual about such rules in our
community or for that matter in the South as a whole, it was clear Beth's
east-coast background had failed to teach her basic manners such as politeness
when speaking to elders and proper attire for girls, skirts and bobby socks,
not torn blue jeans. She was also noticeably lacking in good personal habits
such as timeliness, patience, obedience, and honesty. With someone her age, we
feared such bad habits would be difficult to correct. After talking with our
minister who had once worked at a school for wayward teenagers, we decided to
treat Beth like a younger girl of thirteen until she learned how to behave like
a proper lady. Our minister noted how effective such treatment has been at his
school in helping troubled teens get a new start on their lives under the
guidance of wiser adults.
As we expected, Beth arrived at the Houston airport with four suitcases bulging
with records, jewelry, cosmetics, and dozens of bizarre outfits, all things we
considered unnecessary to the proper upbringing of an obedient and respectful
young lady. To top it off, her hair was dyed blond. Throughout the long drive
home, she complained about how boring life would be in Nacadoches and how
unfair it was for her to leave all her friends and the malls back east. I drove
along without saying a word while my wife, Martha, smiled knowingly from time
to time.
When we arrived, I showed Beth the room she was sharing with our thirteen-year
old, Cindy. It was decorated with pastel colors with posters of kittens and
puppies and the beds loaded with stuffed animals. We had moved an empty child's
dresser and small desk into the room, both painted pink, for Beth to use. In
short, it was a typical thirteen-year old's room and she looked at it with
obvious horror. When she protested she had to have her own room and that she
was also much to old for such a little girl's room, I sharply reprimanded her
and told her if she gave me any more trouble, I would put her over my lap for a
sound spanking. Sensing that I meant business, Beth could only stare in shocked
disbelief while I lectured her about the many rules she would follow in her new
household and the discipline which any infractions would bring.
"Beth, your father admitted he never practiced spanking in your home and
that it probably would have done you a lot of good. He agreed with us that you
have become increasingly headstrong and disorderly over the past four years and
that strong medicine was needed. While we can't do anything about the past, you
need to understand things will be very different from now on. In this
household, as elsewhere in our community, all naughty children are punished
with spankings. You will be treated just like Cindy and Tammy in this respect
so you had better smarten up quickly or you'll find yourself bare-bottomed over
my knee. Do I make myself perfectly clear young miss?"
Beth just stood there, staring in complete shock and disbelief at my
words. Since she hadn't answered, I took a step towards her and repeated my
question, adding,
"Your aunt and I mean what we say, young lady so you had better get used
to it. This is Nacadoches, not Long Island and we do things differently down
here. I'm only going to ask you once more, do you understand what I just told
you?"
Visibly shaken, Beth managed to stammer yes which satisfied me for the
moment. I then calmly told her she wouldn't be needing all the things she had
brought and that I would unpack her bags and decide which things she could
keep. At this, she insisted she had a right to her own belongings and tugged on
a pair of jeans I was pulling from a suitcase. But already her voice quavered
as if she already knew any resistance was risky in her new home and her grasp
of the jeans was weak and half-hearted. After letting go, Beth just stood there
as if defeated while I sorted through her things, removing most of her unseemly
clothes. I then opened a drawer in the pink dresser and removed a white blouse,
a short pink skirt, white socks and tap shoes and laid them out on Beth's bed.
"Young lady, from now on, you're going to learn to dress like a proper
young lady, not like a filthy hippie or tramp. Your aunt and I are going to
have to start all over again to teach you how to dress and behave."
At the sight of these clothes, Beth burst into defiant tears and cried out
she was too old to dress like a little girl. Clearly, the time had come for her
first taste of the discipline she so badly needed. Seizing her wrist, I quickly
twisted her hand behind her back. Despite the vigour of her struggles, she was
soon helpless with her wrist behind her back. In response to her loud cries for
help from her aunt Martha, my wife appeared in the doorway and asked Beth with
a sweet voice what seemed to be the problem.
"What seems to be the problem? Are you blind, Aunt Martha? Uncle Richard's
hurting me. He's gone crazy. Make him stop immediately".
To this, Martha replied,
"You're the only one around here who has lost her senses, young lady.
Uncle Richard knows exactly what he doing. It high time you learned what
happens to self-absorbed little brats who don't mind their elders. No, I'm
afraid you're finally going to find out what a sound spanking on that round
bottom of yours feels like. It's high time you learned an old fashioned lesson
about respect and obedience. If your parents had taken you firmly in hand years
ago, this wouldn't be necessary now. You'd better get used to the idea,
ElizaBeth Thomas, because every time you act up, you're going to take a trip
over your uncle's lap for a good bottom warming after dinner. And then you'll
be put to bed early just like any other naughty little girl who has just
learned a good lesson. I suspect you're going to need a lot of spankings in the
next few months before we see real progress but believe me, you will be one
very well-behaved little girl six months from now. And the better you behave,
the less you'll need to have your bottom warmed. Your cousin Cindy, for
example, is extremely well behaved and only needs one or two spankings a month.
We don't expect you to accept this now but believe me, you will be grateful
when you see how some firm discipline helps you turn your life around and get
back on track."
Crossing the room, Martha took Bath's head in her arms and continued in
softer tones.
"Dear Beth, you're part of our family now and we'll be treating you with
the same love we show our own girls. Spankings are a sign parents love their
children and care enough to bring them up right. You may not understand now,
but in time you'll love us more for taking you firmly in hand you when you step
out of line. No naughty child likes to be turned over a parent's lap. But most
children we know are willing to admit later that spankings are very effective
reminders of proper behavor. You may struggle and protest now but in two
months, I bet you come quietly when you've earned a spanking just like Cindy.
Since this is your first time, I'll stay and comfort you. It only hurts for a
while but the feelings of love will last a lifetime. Now let's get you out of
those ugly blue jeans once and for all and see how nice you look in a pretty
skirt.
With that, she undid Beth's jeans, slid them down to her ankles, and
lifted each foot to remove them entirely. With Beth twisting and sobbing, she
took the pink skirt from the bed and slid it swiftly up her niece's legs before
zipping it at the side. Seeing herself transformed into a schoolgirl brought a
fresh wave of crying and struggles from Beth which only increased as I sat down
on her bed and pulled the plump teenager across my lap. Since Beth had large
hips and the kind of full bottom more common in older women, I had to sit quite
far back on the bed to provide an ample lap to support her wriggling torso.
With that, Martha seated herself directly to my left and cradled Beth's
head in her lap and holding her hands gently but firmly. As if she realized
there was no escape, Beth burst into a helpless kind of sobbing which further
sapped any resistance remaining. Her body sagged weakly, unable to struggle
except for kicking her feet. As she felt her skirt being raised, her crying
rose though it was now muffled in her aunt's lap. And when she felt my hands
working her panties down past the expanse of her hips and bottom, her cries
took on a new urgency and fear. Yet instead of struggling more violently, she
buried her head more deeply into Aunt Martha's reassuring lap as if to drown
out her girlish sobbings from adult ears. Martha responded by stroking her
hair, neck, ears, and cheeks with a regular, gentle rhythm echoed by a steady
stream of endearments about how much she loved Beth even when she was naughty
and how glad she was Beth had come to live with us.
At last Beth's chubby, delightfully spankable bottom lay bare before her
uncle's eyes. He put off spanking her right away and began instead to massage
her fanny gently with a sweeping circular motion in the hopes or reassuring
her. Indeed, this seemed to have a comforting effect as Beth's shrill crying
subsided somewhat. As her uncle's warm hand cupped and circled the full expanse
of her bottom, Beth felt completely enfolded in loving caresses from head to
tail. When the first smack fell on her bottom, it was not so different from the
caresses which preceeded it. It was more a gentle, loving sign than a terrible
infliction; it communicated its own surprising message which Beth at first did
not comprehend in her utter confusion. SMACK SMACK SMACK. The spanks
continued, gradually growing sharper and stoking a small yet somehow tolerable
fire in her fanny. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK On the
spanking went, and though Beth began to cry louder and to kick once more, these
were only gestures which released more tension and led her even more completely
into a strange new feeling of security which overpowered her. SMACK SMACK
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK Held down on two
laps, Beth discovered for herself for the first time the freedom of a little
girl who was suddenly no longer responsible for her actions, who could depend
on others older and wiser than her, others who loved her and would guide her in
all things. This freedom made her even more confused and dizzy and yet she
could only surrender to that dizziness, floating almost outside herself,
increasingly conscious only only of a warmth gradually spreading out across her
entire body from her fanny and loins. This warmth slowly turned into a liquid
sensation circling her body, tying it all together in one flowing, warm
sensation, continually reheated and made more liquid by the regular now rather
sound spanks which descended. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK
SMACK After fifty or more spanks, Beth noticed she had somehow begun
raising her bottom slightly in anticipation of each SMACK as if signalling her
acceptance by responding with her own reciprocating movements. With each blow,
she then pushed back further into her uncle'e comforting lap before repeating
the little cycle of movement, of bare fanny and strong paternal hand rising and
falling in unison. All the while her uncle scolded her lightly while her aunt
held her hands and bent to whisper encouragement into her ear. SMACK SMACK
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK Though a full ten minutes of spanking
had passed, Beth had long since lost track of how many spanks she had received;
she only knew it was beyond count or time. Lost in her strange inner freedom
and dizziness, she experienced the spanks as if they came from another world
which intruded gently into her dreams and became part of them, as if her
uncle's warm hand slapping her bare bottom was continually dissolving into her
own inner warmth and security. Finally after what seemed a lifetime, Uncle
Richard began tapering off the severity and frequency of his spanks until they
were eventually nothing more than slow palmings of her warm, soft bottom flesh.
Beth felt her panties pulled back up and then she was stood on her feet by
her uncle only to be lowered completely onto the bed. Her uncle the bent to
kiss her forehead, made her promise to be a good girl, and told her her aunt
would be tucking her into bed for an afternoon nap. After he closed the door
behind him, Beth just lay there completely passively while her aunt took off
her clothes and slid a one-piece toddler jammies over her head and shoulders,
pushed and pulled each hand and arm through the sleeves, and then bent her
knees to slide her legs down into the jammy feet which were attached. Turning
her on her stomach, her aunt opened the bottom flap so Beth's sore, bright red
fanny could cool in the air. Suddenly Beth felt the momentary shock of cold
hand lotion spread soothingly on her fanny. As Aunt Jean's warm hand rubbed
soft soothing reassurance and love into her bare fanny, Beth drifted off to
sleep, completely unaware a few minutes later when Aunt Jean bottoned up the
flap and gently drew a thin blanket over her niece.
FunChick
sbarker...@uconect.net
<rthi...@nospam.erols.com> wrote:
>uhhh....ewwwwww
You reposted that entire story just to say ewwwwwww?
Please smack yourself in the forehead and repeat after me "I will trim
my replies, I will trim my replies...."
Sue
If you are a dyslexic agnostic insomniac, do you lie
awake at night wondering if there really is a dog?
'Tis a pity she's a whore
I've updated my web site with the dimensions of the shirts. Hope
that helps.
later,
keko
Bitter, controlling, manipulative grapefruit is
not a good thing to have.
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Check out Fat Ass Dyke Productions.
***daddiegrrl on AIM***
sbarker...@uconect.net
<baby...@netaxs.com> wrote:
>Bitter, controlling, manipulative grapefruit is
>not a good thing to have.
>http://www.netaxs.com/~babygrrl/fad.html
>Check out Fat Ass Dyke Productions.
>***daddiegrrl on AIM***
I don't really have anything to say on this subject, I just wanted to
tell you, I LOVE your name....