When Millie Springfield’s roommate learned that her best friend was going to be adopted, she thought she’d misheard. But she hadn’t, and she stared at the petite redhead empty half of her closet and stuff clothes in a trunk.

“I told you, it’s like an adoption.” Millie sighed as she closed the trunk. “And it’s temporary anyway. I’ll still come to class every day.”

“Adoption, but... y-you’re twenty-one, and... I...”

Millie sat on the bed beside her and took her hand. “Listen, Angie. It’s not forever, I told you. We’ll be trying for a couple of weeks, and if it works, for a couple of months. I’ll still get to class everyday and earn my credits, and see you and the gang.”

“It’s not the same,” Angela muttered, with a slight pout.

“Aww I know, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll be back.”

“Then I hope it doesn’t work,” said Angela. Millie raised an eyebrow. “Nah I don’t mean that. But be careful. I don’t like the idea of you living with two strangers.”

Millie giggled. “I’ve known Frank and Cheryl for almost a year, silly billy. And I’m not the only girl they’re ‘adopting’. It’s safe, trust me.”

“I know... I just wish your parents knew about this.”

Millie sighed. “Oh, they will. In due time. Just... not now. And please, you...”

“I won’t tell!” Angela was almost shocked. “Honest.”

“Okay then.” Millie hugged her tight and kissed both her cheeks hard. “Help me finish, I’m late already. They don’t like me being late...”

~|~|~

Being on time was just one of the many rules that Cheryl and Frank Bowman set for their ‘daughters’. They didn’t consider themselves particularly strict; “consistent” was the word. Any family must have a set of rules, and the Bowmans were no exception.

The fact that April and Maggie, and now Millie too, were not their natural offspring was irrelevant. Also their age – late teens or older – wasn’t a factor. The agreement they had all signed set that the couple act as the girls’ parents, if not legally at least factually. That included all the typical acts of parental love, support, and guidance.

That included spankings, too, something that each girl both feared and looked forward to as a sign of well-delivered, loving guidance. After all, that was the whole point.

Millie’s feeling as she walked in the Bowmans’ living room was exactly that. She was thrilled, and scared at the same time. She’d been there before, visited the house, met the couple and also Maggie and April, who’d been living with them for a few months already. But to know this was her time to move in, and that the aspirations of a lifetime were being satisfied, gave her wobbly knees.

“Good morning, Millie! Welcome home.”

The girl smiled and let Cheryl welcoming arms hug her. “Hey. Glad to be here.”

“So are we,” echoed Frank. The girl sat on the couch with husband and wife on each side, and tried to relax.

“Nervous?” Cheryl asked.

“Yeah. Not about you, I mean... well, it’s just the whole thing.”

“That’s understandable,” said Frank, “but remember you can always call the whole deal off. You know that, right?”

“Yes of course I do, but still...” She sighed and looked at the floor, then cheered up and smiled. “Oh well. I’ll get used to it. Where’s the girls? And Tommy?”

“The girls are out for a walk, they should be home any minute. And Tommy is...”

“Miiiiillllllliiiiieeeeeee!!”

It came from the stairs, and a moment later a storm in the form of eight-year-old boy rocked the room. He shrieked and threw himself down on the girl.

“... here.” Cheryl finished the sentence, laughing behind her hand.

“Millie you’re home!” Tommy exclaimed.

The girl giggled. She kissed his tanned, freckled cheeks and tousled his messy blond hair. “Yes I am! I’m happy too, sweetie. How’s it going?”

“Fine! Come! I’ll show you your room!”

And all Millie could do was stand and follow the spirited pre-teen upstairs, where he would give her a tour of the house she already knew perfectly. Frank and Cheryl’s natural son, Tommy was one of those kids who can talk your ears off in one morning and then enjoy your nervous breakdown in the afternoon. Nonetheless, his being extremely cute and essentially well-behaved spared him most of the ‘parental correction’ he would have got in any other household!

Not that the Bowmans were known to be lenient. Far from that. But while they believed in spanking, they were mostly convinced of its usefulness as an incentive for older people motivated to change their habits, or who just felt like they could need it.

That was the origin of their idea. Girls like April, Maggie and Millie had been eager participants. Their dreams of having a new family – or a family at all, in the case of orphanage-raised Maggie – was delightful. The reasons were complex, and different for each of them.

After the tour Tommy had her undergo, Millie was sure she couldn’t have known her new house better. Every corner had been explained to her thoroughly from the highs of the preteen’s vast architectural knowledge! Finally they headed back downstairs, to find Cheryl and Frank still on the couch.

“Found everything where you’d left it?” Frank asked.

“Haha yes. It’s a lovely place, thank you.”

“I’m glad,” said Cheryl, kissing her forehead. “Take your trunk upstairs, and you might want to have a shower. Dinner is served at 7:30.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Millie with a bright smile.

Just when she was reaching for the front door, two girls carrying plastic shopping bags walked in and nearly tripped her over. The initial shock soon left room for bright smiles.

“Heyyyy! You’re home!”

“OmigodIcan’tbelieveit!”

Millie laughed and hugged them. April was a tall, too slender girl with bright black eyes and a big tattoo on her right arm. She bore the marks of her past as a Goth everywhere on her face scarred by the many pierces, now removed, but she still managed to maintain a certain beauty. Maggie was instead a slightly chubby girl, too short for her own good, and with the cropped blonde hair and the coloured clothing and everything, she looked even younger than her eighteen years. She vaguely resembled a baby bear and Shirley Temple in an unique portrait of mischievous cutesy.

A group hug followed, with the Bowmans looking from the living room. They were all smiles. These were the nice times. There were not-so-nice ones, but who doesn’t have those.

After the greetings, all three girls headed back inside and Tommy made a big show of sticking his nose in April and Maggie’s shopping bags. However, Cheryl didn’t seem too happy when she saw all that stuff in the bags. Also Frank scowled at the three pairs of jeans, the five tops, the two pairs of shoes, and the four CD’s. He just shook his head, but Cheryl, far more practical, questioned:

“I see your ‘walk’ took you to the mall... Whose stuff is this anyway?”

Silence fell in the room. Maggie’s face was suddenly white, and April looked at her feet.

“It’s mine,” the brunette said after a while. “You know, what’s left of my allowance, plus what I earn at work, and...”

“Is this true, Maggie?”

The tiny blonde was biting her lower lip and looking away, but she still found it in her to nod. Cheryl saw through it, though, and asked again – hands on her hips, this time.

“Margaret? Do not lie. I’m asking you again, and I’ll believe what you tell me. So it better be the truth. Did April buy all of that stuff, or did you too?”

“Well, she... err... you know...” April started, but a shushing sound from Frank quietened her.

A small tear trickled down Maggie’s plump cheek as she looked up at Cheryl, and finally, the girl shook her head. “I’m sorry... I... I t-thought it was okay to... to buy a few things, and...”

“You are on restriction from disposing of your money, young lady!” Cheryl said, raising her voice. “We’ve seen you can’t use your allowance well and took it away for a month... and this is the proof we were right.”

Maggie looked at her feet again and sniffled. Millie kept watching, and gulped, her hands sweaty.

“Where did you get the money?” Maggie muttered something inaudible. “I beg your pardon?”

“I-it’s m-my money...” Maggie repeated.

This time Frank stepped in and approached the girl. “What?”

Maggie let out a small sob. “I’m sorry, I d-didn’t realise... I just lost it, and...”

“You know the rules very well, Margaret Allison Bowman,” Cheryl said, making the girl wince at the sound of her ‘new’ full name. “No use of your own money when you’re on restriction, if not for what concerns eating and studying. “We are your family and we give you all you can possibly need so that you won’t go get it elsewhere,” or have you forgotten the agreement?”

“Now, now,” Frank said to his wife. “No need to be so angry.”

Cheryl sighed, while Maggie was now softly crying to herself. April circled her shoulders with an arm and kissed her head. She murmured a few words to her that no-one could hear. As for Millie, she stood transfixed and wouldn’t miss a second of what was going on. Once again, thrilled and scared. Deep down she knew what would happen soon, and yet...

“Alright,” Cheryl said. “I must confess I get heated up sometimes. Please forgive me Margaret.” The small girl nodded. “This doesn’t change a bit of what you have done, missy. You broke a rule of this house, a rule you had agreed upon.”

“And among the other things, you specifically asked that we help with your money management problem,” Frank echoed, “but you’re not helping yourself. We granted you the right to go for a walk, but apparently you can’t handle being left to yourself like that yet.”

Maggie hid her face in her hands and cried miserably. Millie felt so sorry for her ‘sister’, and would have comforted her herself if April wasn’t already.

“I think we all agree,” said Cheryl in a more solemn tone, “that you need to be punished. Do you?”

Maggie nodded, sniffling some more, tears rolling down freely now.

“Very well then,” Frank said. She approached the girl, and April automatically detached. Frank gently held Maggie’s shoulders and directed her to the staircase. “C’mon sweets, let’s go get the hairbrush for Mommy.”

And they walked away, Maggie’s sobs not diminishing. Once they were out of earshot, Cheryl hardened her expression again as she turned to April.

“How much of that did she buy?” she asked in a no-nonsense tone.

April wasn’t the kind of girl who submits easily, and even when confronted with misdeed – hers or others’ – she often had a hard time accepting the outcome. Such stubbornness was one of things she’d asked Cheryl and Frank’s help for. But this time she just shook her head, sighed and replied politely.

“About half of it. Must be a hundred or so.”

“And where were you?” Cheryl hissed. “You were there all along, couldn’t you say anything?”

“Hey, I have!” April snapped, but a glare from her ‘mother’ told her it was better not to. “Sorry Mum. I mean... I told her to watch out, and she said she would... but at one point we went separate ways and I lost track of her for a while.”

Cheryl shook her head. “Well, next time you be more careful. She’s your sister, she’s the youngest, and now she’s in trouble. You’re also supposed to look after her a bit. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. You’re not in trouble this time, but next time you get fresh with me, your panties are coming down and my hand is meeting your bottom. Is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am.” Then, on her own initiative, she turned to Millie. “Hey... I’m sorry that you had to come in such a moment. It’s not always like this.”

Millie forced a smile and thanked her. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m just sorry for Maggie. She looked so repentant, Cheryl... I mean, Mum... couldn’t you let her off just this one time?”

“Oh not at all, Millie. You know better than even to ask. She’s going to get a sound spanking right here, and it’s good that you’re present, so you’ll see first hand how it goes. That’s the end of it. And yes, it’s not always like that around here... but when you have time, ask your sister April about last Sunday.”

The mere mention of ‘last Sunday’ had the black-haired ex-Goth’s skin blush a few shades of red. She quietly excused herself, gave Millie a welcome home kiss on her cheek and retired to her bedroom.

“Wow... that’s not the girl I used to know,” Millie said, raising an eyebrow. “And she hasn’t said the F word in these ten minutes. That’s a record.”

Cheryl smiled fondly. “Oh it’s not, my dear. She’s much better behaved. Her mouth is too clean to speak dirty things even if she wanted to.”

And with that not-so-subtle allusion to the extensive use of mouth-soaping that Cheryl did, Millie shut up and blushed some too.

But everything was eventually interrupted when Frank and a still crying Maggie re-entered the living room. The man was holding the weeping teenager in one hand, and the most formidable hairbrush that Millie had ever seen in the other.

Made of burgundy red wood, smooth all over and so lucid you could see yourself reflected in its slightly curved back. At four inches wide and seven inches long, it was scary to just see it. Millie predicted it would cover most of one of her own bottom cheeks vertically, and she wasn’t even as petite as her younger sister. Maggie’s distress was very, very understandable.

“Very well, Margaret,” Cheryl said, taking the hairbrush from her husband. Then she repeated, again quite formally: “You broke a rule and you will be spanked. No but’s beside the one that is about to be turned across my knee. Do you have anything to say for yourself, young lady?”

Maggie wiped a tear away and tried to calm down, successfully enough to speak clearly. “N-no Mummy... but please know that I’m sorry! I didn’t want to!”

“I understand and I believe you, dear,” said Cheryl. “I wouldn’t bother to punish you if I didn’t think you were sorry.”

That made Maggie smile a bit, as much as a girl in her condition can smile, at least. Then she turned to Frank and said: “Are you going to give me the belt at bedtime, Daddy?”

Frank shook his head. “Not if you take this spanking like a good girl. But I’ll still pay a visit to your bedroom tonight so we can talk. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir,” Maggie nodded tearfully.

And then, under Millie’s wide-eyed gaze, Cheryl took hold of the small teen’s wrist and guided her to a chair in the living room. The woman sat down and set the hairbrush on the tea table behind her. Then she had Maggie stand in front of her and started undoing the front of her baggy jeans.

“I’m sorry that we’re back at this point after only a week,” she said in a low voice, but not low enough for Millie not to hear. “But you do know the rules, and this is what we must do.”

Despite the girl’s cries, Cheryl proceeded to undo the buttons and pull down the zipper, and the loose pants fell right to Maggie’s ankles. Her underwear, a pair of white panties with orange borders and a Tigger drawing on the back, followed right away, expertly peeled down by Cheryl’s fingers. Maggie stood in front of her mother bare from the waist down, shifting from foot to foot and obviously worried and uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t be.

Definitely not Millie, who was now gulping and wincing more than ever. Even just looking at her sister’s impending spanking was stirring a torrent of emotions in her. She couldn’t help but wonder what she would feel like, and how she would behave, when in Maggie’s position.

With one swift motion Cheryl bent the teenager across her lap. Maggie’s plump belly rested on both of the woman’s thighs, her bottom well up in the air, a perfect target. Her hands and feet did touch the floor, but only just.

It was without as much as a preamble that Cheryl started to spank her daughter’s bottom. The woman raised her hand and brought it down forcefully across the teenager’s chubby cheeks, leaving handprint after handprint on the rosy skin.

“Owww! Ouchieeee! Noooo!”

Maggie’s response was very vocal from the very beginning, though she stayed relatively still across her mother’s lap. It looked as though it didn’t matter at all to Cheryl, since she kept smacking with vigour, landing each swat half an inch lower than the previous one, so that soon Maggie’s bottom was bright pink and sported two vertical, different chains of intertwined, criss-crossed palm prints.

“This is the third time this month we’ve come to this!” the woman scolded again now, bringing fresh tears of remorse from her young charge – and much surprise from Millie, who wouldn’t imagine her sister could be such a handful – “To tell you the truth, Margaret, I am getting tired.”

Whack! Spank! Spank! Swat! Spank! Whack! “Waahhhh! Nooooo! I’m sorrreeee!”

“If you really are sorry, little one, you should try and genuinely improve.”

“Owwww I willlll! Aieeeee!”

“Darn right you will.”

And with that, Maggie stopped and rested her left hand on the small of the girl’s back – while she reached for the tea table with the right one. Before her husband’s and oldest daughter’s eyes, she brandished the wicked-looking red wooden tool and brought it down with a very hard SPLAT!! sound across both of Maggie’s plump, but little nether cheeks.

“Yeeeeeooooocccchhhhh!!” The girl’s yell was ear-splitting. Millie was sure the windowpanes actually trembled a bit.

Unfortunately for Maggie, that was only the first of many. Millie soon found out what she’d only heard from the Bowmans’ mouths so far, and that was they believed in extremely sound, thorough spankings that left bottoms red and sore for hours on after, and also that their girls would be treated like children when receiving one. The age regression in Maggie was noticeable.

In fact, she didn’t show much if half of her eighteen years, bent over the woman’s lap with her bottom glowing red and getting what seemed like the thrashing of her young life. And still, Cheryl spanked and spanked and spanked on, relentlessly, bringing the nasty brush down at every angle, not sparing a single inch of flesh, and making sure every part of Maggie’s backside – from top of the buttocks to halfway down her thighs, through the fullness of her bottom cheeks – shone with a bright scarlet, tending to purple hue.

Crack!! Whack!! Spank!! “Owowowowow!! Eeeeek! Noooooo!!”

The reverberating sounds of hard wood meeting scorched flesh, and the teen’s anguished sobs, alternated in the otherwise silent living room. Up and down Cheryl’s arm propelled, and up and down Maggie bucked across her lap, trying to escape, kicking her legs frantically, pounding the floor, trying to squirm free and trying to reach back (which earned her two locked wrists and a few extra-hard smacks on the backs her thighs that had her screaming like a banshee). Tears and snot formed a pool on the floor and the girl thrashed about wildly, begging for forgiveness.

Her bottom cheeks sure did go purple after two full minutes of continued spanking. Cheryl wasn’t scolding anymore, but just spanking for all she was worth. Poor Maggie was eventually reduced to a bawling baby, laying limp and not even fighting it anymore, if not for the occasional kick of her legs when a swat would reach the most tender spots of her inner thighs. Little was comprehensible of her blubbering, but surely she intercalated several “I’m sorry’s!” and “I’ll be good’s!” and “please stop Mummy’s!” in there.

At long last, it was over.

Millie watched, still wide-eyed, and Frank nodded in approval as Cheryl put the evil hairbrush back on the table and released her grip on poor Maggie’s waist. The girl obviously didn’t trust herself to stand yet, and remained bent across her mother’s lap, still a sobbing mess.

“There, there,” Cheryl cooed, rubbing her girl’s back in slow circles. “It’s over. Mummy loves you. You can get up when you want to, but no hurry.”

Maggie did as told almost immediately though, probably because being let up also meant the permission to rub her sore cheeks, something that the girl started doing with incredible eagerness.

“I-I’m sorry Mummy!...” she spluttered in-between her tears. “I w-won’t d-do it ag-again... Daddy p-please believe me!”

“I believe you honey,” said Frank, and gave her a reassuring smile that she seemed to cherish.

Cheryl stood and hugged Maggie, kissing the top of her head. “Now, apologise to Millie and march yourself to the corner. Hands in front of you, you’ve rubbed enough for now.”

“Yes m-ma’am...” Maggie nodded and went to Millie. She looked up at her with lucid eyes. Her full face cheeks were tear-streaked and red and puffy from crying. Millie felt so sorry and wished she could spare her sister the humiliation of the apology, at least, but was too afraid to interfere with the procedure. “I’m sorry that y-you had to see this o-on your first day... sowwy!” she finished in a little voice.

“It’s okay Meg, I don’t hate you for that,” Millie offered a warm smile, that Maggie once again appreciated. Then she added in an undertone: “Now do as Mummy says and if you want to, later on we’ll talk about stuff. Hmm?”

“Thanks Mil, I’ll love that,” Maggie murmured, and off she went to the corner.

She kept rubbing her sore tush all the way there, walking as straight as her panties still hugging her ankles would let her (her jeans had flown long ago, during the severe hairbrushing). Finally she placed her nose in the corner and joined her hands in front of her.

“Millie,” said Cheryl, “you can take your trunk upstairs now. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask April, myself or Frank. Okay honey?”

“Yes Mum, thank you. When will dinner be served again? Can I help?”

Millie was a polite girl all in all, but housekeeping definitely wasn’t her forte – something her roommate Angela always complained about. But somehow, watching what happened to girls in that house who failed to comply to instructions, Millie felt a sudden surge of goodwill!

“It will be served at 7:30, and why, thank you. You can make the salad and set the table with your father. Come down at seven and we’ll arrange things.”

“Yes Mum.”

With one last look at Maggie’s well-spanked round behind, Millie walked outside to grab her trunk. She knew from the very start that it was a tough task that she was about to face... but even after such a shocking start, she knew it was for the best, and that somehow she would settle in and eventually abide by the family rules. She would do anything to avoid a meeting with that hairbrush!

Little she knew how incredibly wrong she was.

– End of Part One –

This story comes from the collage (in my mind) of several stories I’d previously written. Some of them never made it to be posted, and were cannibalized by this one and then deleted, while others I have received such great feedback for (“The Time Machine”, “Jenni”) that I thought it cool to deliver more of the same. Only that it’s much different. Hehe. I might be writing more in this series, but I’ll wait and see the reactions – my readers’ of course, but my own as well.

This story does not necessarily represent the author’s point of view about anything. It is simply a work of fiction . The characters herein portrayed are invented and do not resemble reality to the best of the author’s knowledge. This account is entirely fictitious . Any similarities to other persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

This story is written for the sane amusement of adult readers. It does not intend harm and does not promote violence of any kind, including spanking. No offence is meant to any group, ethnicity or individuals.

The author does in no way endorse the non-consensual disciplinary spanking of actual children and / or teenagers.

Copyright © 2004-2005 Haley Brimley . Contact for information and / or feedback.