That’s all Jane heard. She didn’t know what her mother’s denial referred to, but it seemed like that’s all she heard of late.
“What?!” she was immediately sorry that some attitude crept into her voice.
Joan, the mother, looked even more pissed-off, if that was possible. But she chose her battles. She had to, or else she would be fighting non-stop with Jane, now that she was a senior in high school.
“No, you are not leaving this backyard wearing those cut-offs! What were you thinking, Jane? I can see your coochie!”
“Mom, you are so puritanical! I’m just going out with some girlfriends, it’s no big deal!”
“Most of your butt cheeks are hanging out; it is a big deal! Go change shorts.”
“I’m a senior in high school! When do I get to determine what I get to wear?”
“When you start making good decisions on the matter! Go change.”
“Then you’re grounded.”
“You are so unfair! I hate you!”
Joan decided to end this discussion that was going nowhere. She took off her belt and grabbed her daughter by the wrist. In a flash, Jane’s arm was behind her back, and she was bent over the patio furniture table. Joan had a lot of butt to aim at, almost the whole big thing was hanging out! She lashed her daughter once, hitting her across the upper thighs, took better aim, and placed another red welt across both cheeks, right down low where it would hurt most.
“You can’t do this! I’m too old for this!” Jane howled.
After the third stripe burned across her derriere, Joan answered, “You are clearly too big for your britches because most of your naughty parts are exposed. And check yourself, I’m doing it!” as another two licks cut into the lovely girl’s tanned backside.
Even though her damned belt hurt like a motherfucker, Jane did not fight back with all her might. She’d been raised right, underneath it all she had great respect for her mom, trying to do it all as a single-parent. Jane realized that she was in the wrong, that her mom was only looking out for her well-being. She regretted saying that she hated her. All these emotions ganged-up on Jane, and suddenly she was crying like a baby.
“I’m not crying from the whipping!” she proclaimed.
Her mother didn’t care about the reasoning, only that Jane would be too embarrassed to show her welted buttocks in those shorts to the public at large. Joan chortled to herself at that word, “embarrassed.” This younger generation didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word. But enough of Jane’s bare assed butt cheek was exposed to the belt to give the girl an introduction to the concept. She administered three more hard licks with the belt, and stopped the lesson.
“Go to your room. Stay there until I call you for dinner,” Joan instructed her now-chastised daughter.
Emotions caught up with the mother when she was alone. As she put the belt back on around her waist, Joan broke down and cried. She hated being a mother, being a single-mother, of an eighteen year old, of a daughter so much like herself!
Other feelings caught up with Jane when she was behind her closed bedroom door. She looked in the mirror at her well-whipped bottom. Each welt hurt like hell! But her butt looked sexy as hell, too! All of Jane’s secret fantasies seemed to be almost realized. She put herself to sleep nightly fantasizing about being spanked, paddled, strapped, in some way punished by some tall dark, handsome man. An older man, like thirty or so. Now Jane knew what it felt like to get an adult whipping, she only needed to find a man who was as turned-on by whipping her as she was about getting it. Jane planned to put these cut-off shorts in her backpack, change into them when out in public the next time. What better way to attract a man who loved to whip a bottom than to advertise that Jane had a taste and a tolerance for being whipped. But first, nature called. Jane crawled under the covers of her bed and began masturbating, dreaming that the burning across her bottom had been put there by her mystery man. Instead of her stupid, well-meaning mom.