Shannon's Spankings - Part 3

    They went out to the glassed-in patio, with Shannon
still clad only in her underwear, and after the adults were
settled in the wicker furniture Henry said to her,  "I've
decided to punish you for disobedience by giving you a
whipping with a switch."  Shannon felt a bit lightheaded at
the news, but she remained silent as he went on, "I want
you to go out and cut a few birch switches, from three to
four feet long, up to an inch thick at the base.  I want only
green, pliant switches."  He took his pocketknife from his
pocket and handed it to her.  "After you bring them back
we'll decide which one to use on you."


    The thought of being switched terrified Shannon, but
protest was useless.  There was no escape.  She trudged
miserably out into the backyard, dismayed but not
surprised to find herself trailed by Liz.  As soon as they
were out of earshot of the adults, Liz said, "That was quite
a little show in there.  I don't know what I enjoyed more,
knowing how humiliated you were or knowing how much it
must be hurting.  Your face was almost as red as your
bottom, and that was the color of a pomegranate!  And that
little dance your bottom did under the brush was really
entertaining.  You'd have thought Uncle Henry had taken a
branding iron to you, the way you squirmed.  I can't wait to
see what you do under the switch."
    Shannon tried to block out the humiliating and
infuriating comments and concentrated on picking her
switches.  She didn't want to make Henry any angrier by
delaying -- or by making any more rude comments to Liz. 
It was cold out here in just her underwear, but the coolness
was almost a welcome contrast to the still-raging heat in
her soundly spanked bottom.
    Liz watched for a moment, then began to point out
birch limbs with such comments as, "That one ought to
raise a few welts" or "I'm sure that one would leave you
nicely striped."  With every comment Shannon's misery
and her fear of the impending whipping grew.
    "I can't wait for Monday," Liz added after a
moment's silence.  "I'm already rehearsing how I'm going
to tell this story."
    Shannon nearly choked on her mortification at the
realization of how fast this story would spread through
school under Liz's impetus.  She wished the ground would
just swallow her up and put her out of her misery.  Running
away seemed like an attractive option compared to going
to school on Monday.
    Anxious to be away from Liz and her toxic
comments, Shannon quickly cut four limbs and brought
them back to the sun porch where Henry awaited her.  He
laid them out and then spent a little time evaluating them
with his brother Ron's help, deciding which one had the
optimal amount of "whippiness".  He spent some time
swishing them through the air, where they made an
ominous whir, and Shannon's stomach clenched as she
imagined having to place her bottom in the birch's path.
    Once he had chosen one, he made her sit on a hard
wooden stool, which felt like a bed of nails to her blistered
behind, and strip the leaves off of the switch, then trim the
nubs down with the pocketknife.   She worked to make it as
smooth as possible, hoping it would hurt less that way but
fearing that it was going to be excruciating no matter what
she did.
    The rest of the family chatted among themselves,
ignoring her, and leaving her after she had finished her
unpleasant chore to squirm miserably on the hard stool
and wait in dread for the next phase of her punishment. 
Finally Henry looked over at her and said, "Ah, you're
finished.  Good.  Now before I give you your whipping for
disobedience, you need to be punished for being rude to
our guest.  And I think it's only appropriate to let the injured
party participate in carrying out that punishment."
    It took a few moments to realize that by "injured
party", Henry meant Liz.  He meant to let Liz help punish
her?  No, it couldn't be!  Shannon barely stopped herself
from voicing her protest but she could feel the tears
pricking her eyes again at the massive injustice of it all.
    Henry turned to Liz.  "How about it, Lizzie?  You tell
me the implement you want to use to spank Shannon, and
how you want her to position herself, and I'll tell you how
many strokes to give her.  Deal?"
    Liz couldn't pass up the opportunity to say
sanctimoniously, "I'd be only too happy to help the poor
misguided girl realize the error of her ways.  Now, let me
think."  She contemplated the situation for a few moments,
then said, "I don't think I'll use the hairbrush; I'd rather use
some kind of paddle that would hit all the way across her
bottom at once.  Do you have anything like that, Uncle
Henry?"
    Henry considered for a short while, then said, "I
believe I may have something out in the garage.  Why
don't you come out with me and see what's available?"
    The two left the sun porch, and Shannon shifted
once again on the hard stool, feeling despondent.  How had
such a small crime escalated into this? 
    Henry and Liz returned about fifteen minutes later. 
Shannon didn't even want to see what they'd come up with,
but when Henry said to the others, "Look at this!", she
couldn't help but look.  He held a piece of wood that looked
like maybe baseboard molding, about eighteen inches
long, two inches wide and a half inch or so thick.  He turned
it so everyone could see the line of five holes drilled in the
wood.  "We found this, and I cut it down to size.  Then Liz
got the idea of drilling the holes.  We think they'll add to
the sting; at any rate, they'll cut down on the air resistance
to the paddle."  He turned back to Liz.  "Let's go into the
living room, and you can decide how you want Shannon to
position herself."
    In short order the group had moved to the living
room, where Shannon was sent to the corner to wait while
Liz and Henry finalized the details of the impending
punishment.  Liz was obviously savoring her newly found
power and asked Henry's advice on several options before
finally deciding that she wanted Shannon bent over the
ottoman that served as footstool for the big easy chair. 
Henry moved the ottoman to a position in front of the TV so
that the assembled guests would all have a clear view of it.
    "You set the rules for the punishment, Lizzie,"
Henry said then.  "You can give her twenty-five strokes,
and don't be afraid to lay them on hard!  If she's
disobedient, we'll increase the strokes."
    "Don't worry, Uncle Henry," Liz said silkily.  "I'll
make sure Shannon learns her lesson well."  Liz took her
place by the ottoman, then said, "Shannon, come over
here."
    Shannon didn't think she'd ever been more
mortified than she was at this moment, reduced to a
position of utter subservience under a girl her own age. 
But there was no choice except obedience, so she
approached Liz reluctantly, staring fixedly at the floor all
the while.
    "Look at me, young lady," Liz ordered sternly. 
Shannon bit back a retort and slowly lifted her gaze to meet
her cousin's.
    Liz warmed to her task.  "First I want you to admit
that you were rude to me, and then ask for your
punishment, like you did with Uncle Henry.  So everyone
can hear."
    Let's just get this over with, thought Shannon, and
she said, "Liz..."
    "Call me 'miss'," Liz interrupted.
    Shannon took a breath and started again, "Miss,
I've been inexusably rude to you, and I deserve to be
paddled," she said quickly.
    "I intend to paddle you," Liz answered in a
sanctimonious tone of voice.  "I intend to paddle you hard,
on your bare bottom.  And while I'm doing to I want you to
stay in place and not cover your bottom with your hands.  I
want you to count out loud after every stroke.  And
afterwards I want you to apologize again for being rude to
me and thank me for giving you the spanking you
deserved.  And I'll add strokes if you fail to do any of those
things.  Do you understand, young lady?"
    "Yes, miss," Shannon replied, unable to keep the
sullen tone out of her voice.
    "And don't take that tone with me, young lady.  Now
stand by the ottoman, facing the TV, and pull your panties --
or whatever you call those things you're wearing -- to your
ankles."
    Shannon moved into position and reached for the
waistband of her pantalets.  She hated having to undress
herself for a punishment, and doing so now brought the
tears back to her eyes, in part because the waistband
scraping against her bottom reminded her of how sore she
already was.
    "Now kneel," Liz continued, "and bend over the
ottoman.  Put your hands behind your neck."
    Shannon knelt and laid across the footstool as
directed, lacing her hands behind her neck and resting her
chin so she was looking at the TV.  Already she felt the
tears in her eyes from the shame and anticipation.
    "Remember to count!" Liz said, and then she raised
the paddle high and brought it cracking down across
Shannon's bottom.
    "One!" Shannon called out, rather shrilly.  Liz was
not nearly as strong as Henry, but she had put her whole
body into the stroke, and when the paddle landed right on
top of the spots that Henry had just spanked so thoroughly,
it stung like crazy.   It came blazing down again, and
Shannon called out, "Two!"  Thwack!  "Three!"
    The paddling picked up tempo as Liz settled into it. 
The holes in the paddle caused it to make a whistling
sound as it descended, and the edges of the holes bit into
Shannon's skin to add to the already considerable sting. 
The pain built up quickly and, despite Shannon's resolve to
give Liz as little satisfaction as possible, she found herself
dancing under the paddle again, twisting and squirming in
a fruitless attempt to relieve the burning.  It became
increasingly difficult to count as her throat tightened and by
the time she'd reached ten her voice sounded strangled. 
By the time she'd reached fifteen she had her legs
stretched out behind her, toes digging into the carpet, and
by twenty she had to force herself to count between sobs. 
When the twenty-five blazing strokes had been finished
she was still digging her feet into the carpet and squirming
her hips around trying to relieve the heat, and after
watching her for a moment Liz said, "You can rub your
bottom if you want."
    Shannon knew that nothing would give Liz more
satisfaction at that moment than watching Shannon trying
to rub out the sting of the paddling she'd just given, but
Shannon couldn't seem to stop herself; her hands flew
back to her bottom and she massaged the burning cheeks
as everyone watched.  She could feel the small welts
raised by the holes in the paddle as she did so.
    "Now stand," Liz said, "and shake my hand, and
thank me."
    Shannon stood, shivering and sniffling, and
reached down to pull up her drawers.
    "Leave those down!" Liz snapped. 
    Shannon straightened, then, not wanting to risk
even one stroke more from Liz, obediently shook Liz's
hand and said, "Thank you for g-giving me the... the
punishment th-that I deserved."   
    "Nice job, Lizzie," Henry observed, adding insult to
Shannon's already considerable injury.  "That was a good,
solid paddling, beginning to end."
    "Why, thanks, Uncle Henry," Liz said sprightly;
then she turned back to Shannon and ordered sternly,
"Now back to your corner!"   Shannon turned to go,
shuffling inside her underwear hobble.
    Then Henry said, "You might as well take your
underpants off, Shannon.  Your switching is coming right
up and you won't need them for that."
    That remark brought a fresh round of tears.  She
stepped out of the pantalets and held them in front of
herself as she made her way back to the corner, fervently
wishing the ground would swallow her up or she'd black
out or something, anything to escape the promised
switching.
    Once again came the surrealistic sounds of
everyday life contrasting against her own misery as her
mother refilled everyone's coffees and sodas while they
chatted with Liz about her first experience in dealing out a
paddling.  Liz kept up the sanctimonious drivel about how
she hoped she had made a change for the better in
Shannon's life by showing her the error of her ways --
comments that would have set Shannon's teeth on edge,
except that they were already clenched from anticipation of
her impending whipping.