A Spanking for Easter

Earlier in my stay with Abel and Haron, the three of us played an amazingly hot and prolonged scene where the girls at the reformatory were birched for their crimes.   Sunday’s roleplay was much shorter, perhaps no longer than 10 minutes or so, but was equally wonderfully intense, and with a seasonal theme.

Alice and Martha again, but this time sisters who had agreed that they would give up their computer game habit for Lent.   Had, in general, succeeded.   Except for one lapse, which their daddy had witnessed when coming home from work unexpectedly early one evening.   They spotted him approaching through the window and a mad scramble ensued: screen flipped over to TV, consoles hurled into the cabinet beneath, girls scurrying round plumping cushions and straightening magazines.   We were tidying up, daddy.   Ah.   I see.   He nodded, said no more and the matter was forgotten.   By the sisters at least.

Easter Day dawned.   A family day.   Eggs exchanged, relatives coming and going, roast lamb sending delicious aromas throughout the house.   And the end of Lent.   The end of the PlayStation’s banishment.   Girls gleefully settling down to a Quidditch World Cup battle to celebrate!

“Alice.   Martha.   Come upstairs please.”

Daddy’s tone strangely solemn for such an enjoyable day.   The girls looked at one another, puzzled, but did as they were told.   Followed him to the room they shared; shut the door when instructed.   Looked at their father anxiously, but without really understanding why they should feel so uneasy.

He spoke to them about Lent.   Asked them to reiterate to him what they had given up, what this meant and if they had done so.   A quick glance was exchanged between them, but confirmation was readily given.   Two sisters who believed their deceit, their cover-up, to be safely concealed.   How foolhardy would it be to admit it now?   Pointless, surely?

But no.   Instead they dug themselves a far deeper hole and soon found themselves trapped within it.   Their jaws went too slack, their eyes too wide, to be able to deny it when confronted by what daddy had seen.   Not only caught cheating, breaking their vows, but also compounding it by lying.   Their daddy was deeply disappointed in them and they squirmed miserably.

Whose idea had it been?   Who got the consoles out?   It was me: Martha immediately taking responsibility, the big sister instinctively trying to protect her sibling.   Is that true, Alice?   Was it really your sister?   No daddy, it was me.   Several attempts to pinpoint the ringleader were unavailing, with each maintaining she was the guilty one.   So their fate was sealed: they would both have to be punished.   Severely.

Daddy’s thick black belt lay coiled like a snake on the bed.   He bade Martha come to him, told her she knew what would happen now.   No daddy, please!   Please don’t!   I’m too old for this now, please!   Yes, he agreed, you *are* too old, you should know better than this by now.   And you know how I deal with it when your behaviour falls short of the standards you should expect of yourself.   When you let yourself down, set a bad example to your younger sister.   Martha is almost crying as he turns her towards her bed, unbuttoning her jeans.   Orders her to place her hands on the coverlet as he pushes them down, along with her knickers.   He has always punished his girls on their bare bottoms to bring his message home; this time will be no different.   Alice, go round to the other side and hold your sister’s hands.   You will both learn how very disappointed I am in you.

He means it.   The strapping is hard, thick leather striking vulnerable skin relentlessly, the blows raining down.   Nowhere is spared, from the very crest of her bottom to her tender thighs.   For all her howls, for all the writhing against Alice’s hold, for even the choking sobs to which she succumbs, are useless when she knows she has done wrong.   Knows that she deserves to be punished, feels so awful for letting daddy down too, not just herself as he’d told her.   Feels her emotions wrenched to the surface by the pain of his belt biting her flesh, just as his disappointment tears at her heart.

It may feel like forever to the girl enduring it but the whipping is soon over.   He helps her up, allows her to dress herself, draws her close to him and holds her very tightly whilst she shakes and cries.   Tells her that it’s over, she’s been punished and is forgiven; that he loves her very much.   I love you too, daddy, I’m so sorry.   He knows that she is, strokes her hair, calms her.

Then she knows that she must swap places with her sister and help Alice to bear the same.   Knows exactly what she must go through as Alice takes down her own jeans and knickers, bends over the bed, submits to her strapping as Martha squeezes her hands.   As the belt rises and falls, and Alice yelps and kicks in anguish, she hopes desperately that she can convey some strength and support through their clasped hands.   For both girls, it is hard to tell exactly who is hanging onto whom as they submit to their thrashings.

Alice finds her punishment and her guilt just as difficult to take.   But for all that, she is not spared a single lash less than what she is due, and her cries are as heartfelt as her sister’s had been.   She in turn is drawn back up afterwards and given all the comfort and reassurance she needs in daddy’s love and forgiveness.   Finally Martha is called to join them so that all three can embrace and reunite as a family once again.   Their bonds are as strong, if not stronger, than ever.

Back downstairs with Abel and Haron afterwards, over that delicious roast lamb, the memories of what has passed also unite we three.   This was powerful stuff.