The sun had barely dipped when the three sisters—Emma (13), Lucy (15), and Sarah (17)—found themselves caught returning from the forbidden creek. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies, betraying their escapade. Their parents, Tom and Carol, home early from their errand, stood waiting on the porch, their stern expressions stopping the girls in their tracks.
“You went to the creek,” Tom said evenly, his disappointment clear. “The one we’ve repeatedly told you was too dangerous.”
The girls looked at one another, Sarah taking the lead as the oldest. “We were careful—”
“Careful?” Carol interrupted sharply. “That creek has a strong current, slippery rocks, and we trusted you to stay away. You broke that trust.”
Tom stepped forward. “Actions have consequences. Each of you is going to be spanked. Go upstairs and wait in your rooms. We’ll call you down one at a time.”
The girls didn’t dare protest. They trudged upstairs, exchanging nervous glances. Each of them knew what was coming, but none of them was prepared for what lay ahead.
——
Emma’s Turn
Emma, the youngest, was called down first. Her legs felt like jelly as she made her way to the living room, where her parents were waiting. Carol sat in a sturdy wooden chair, the infamous hairbrush resting in her lap, while Tom stood nearby, his arms crossed.
“Emma,” Carol said firmly, “do you understand why you’re here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Emma whispered, her eyes welling with tears.
“Good,” Tom added. “Then you know what’s coming. Over your mother’s knee.”
Emma hesitated but obeyed. Carol guided her over her lap, adjusting her until her small frame was perfectly positioned. With one swift tug, her damp shorts and swimsuit bottoms were pulled to her knees, leaving her pale, unmarked bottom exposed. Emma let out a small squeak, the cool air against her skin making her feel more vulnerable than ever.
The spanking began with Carol’s hand, sharp smacks landing rhythmically across Emma’s bottom. Her fair skin turned pink within moments, and Emma squirmed, letting out little cries as the sting intensified. Then came the hairbrush. Each loud crack brought a yelp, and Emma’s legs kicked helplessly, her small, round bottom glowing red by the time Carol finished.
“Up,” Carol said briskly, helping Emma to her feet. She pointed to the wall. “Stand there with your hands on your head, and don’t you dare touch your bottom.”
Emma shuffled to the wall, her swimsuit bottoms still at her knees, her cherry-red cheeks on full display. She sniffled quietly, the sting of the spanking still fresh, her bare bottom visible from the doorway.
——
Lucy’s Turn
“Lucy,” Tom called.
Lucy swallowed hard, her stomach in knots as she walked down to the living room. Her heart was pounding as she entered the room, the sound of her sister Emma’s quiet sniffles coming from the wall making her stomach flip. She couldn’t help but look at Emma, her small, reddened bottom bare and vulnerable, the soft glow of her spanking still fresh. Her mother’s voice snapped her back to reality.
“Lucy, over here,” Carol said firmly, patting her lap.
Lucy felt her knees weaken. At fifteen, she thought she was too old to be spanked, and she certainly wasn’t ready to endure the kind of punishment Emma had just received. But her mother’s stern expression made it clear that resistance was futile. Slowly, she approached, her legs trembling.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Tom asked, his arms crossed as he stood by the chair.
“I—I’m sorry,” Lucy stammered, her voice shaky. “I didn’t mean for us to get in trouble…”
“You didn’t mean to?” Carol interjected. “Lucy, you’re fifteen. You should know better. Not only did you break the rules, but you also set a terrible example for Emma. This isn’t just about the creek—it’s about respect and obedience. Now, over my knee.”
Lucy’s face flushed as she bent forward, her long legs awkwardly folding as she laid herself over her mother’s lap. The position was humiliating, but things got worse when Carol hooked her fingers into Lucy’s shorts and swimsuit bottoms and tugged them down in one swift motion. Lucy let out a soft cry of protest as the cool air hit her bare skin.
“Keep still,” Carol instructed, settling Lucy into place.
Lucy’s fuller, rounded bottom was pale and smooth, a stark contrast to Emma’s smaller frame. Carol’s hand came down hard and fast, delivering a sharp smack that made Lucy yelp. The spanking began rhythmically, each smack landing firmly and with purpose. The sting built quickly, and Lucy squirmed, trying to shift her bottom away from the punishing hand.
“Stop moving, Lucy,” Carol warned, her voice sharp. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
But Lucy couldn’t help it. Her mother’s hand was relentless, and her tender skin was already turning pink. She whimpered and kicked her legs as the smacks rained down.
As Tom stood with his arms crossed, watching Carol spank Lucy, a mix of emotions churned within him. He was angry—angry that Lucy had disobeyed their clear instructions and led her sisters into danger. But as his wife delivered each sharp smack to their fifteen-year-old daughter’s very bare bottom, his stern demeanor masked a deeper, more conflicted feeling.
Lucy’s bottom, rounder and more developed than Emma’s, turned from pale pink to a brighter red under Carol’s punishing hand. Each slap echoed in the room, punctuated by Lucy’s yelps and the occasional desperate plea. Tom couldn’t help but notice how much Lucy had grown; she was no longer the little girl he used to scold for missing curfews or sneaking extra desserts. She was maturing, on the brink of becoming a young woman, and yet here she was, laid bare and vulnerable, over her mother’s knee.
After a few minutes, Carol paused, picking up the hairbrush from her lap. Lucy caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye and panicked.
“Mom, no, please!” she cried, her voice breaking.
“Maybe you’ll think twice before disobeying us again,” Carol replied, positioning the brush over the roundest part of Lucy’s bottom. The first crack landed with a sound that echoed through the room. Lucy let out a sharp cry, her legs jerking uncontrollably.
The hairbrush left bright red ovals wherever it struck, and the sting was far worse than Lucy had anticipated. After only a few smacks, she couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, she reached back, her hand shielding her bottom.
“Move your hand right now, Lucy,” Carol ordered, her voice cold and stern.
“No, please, Mom, it hurts!” Lucy cried, twisting her head to look back at her mother, her hand stubbornly covering the curve of her right cheek. Her bottom, already marked with pink handprints and several bright red splotches from the hairbrush, flinched as if anticipating the next strike.
Carol didn’t waste another moment. “Fine, if you won’t listen, I’ll make you.” She grabbed Lucy’s wrist and pinned it firmly to the small of her back, holding her in place. The act was swift and deliberate, asserting her complete control.
Lucy’s eyes widened with panic as she realized how helpless she now was. “Mom, please, no!” she sobbed, squirming, but her mother’s grip was unyielding.
“Disobedience during your spanking only makes it worse, young lady,” Carol said sharply, her voice calm yet firm. “You’ve earned every bit of this, and now you’ll feel it.”
With Lucy’s hand secured and her body pressed tightly over Carol’s lap, the spanking resumed. The hairbrush came down hard, landing with loud crack after crack on the fullest part of her bottom. Lucy’s cries turned to loud, desperate sobs as the brush painted her cheeks with deep red marks.
Tom admired his wife’s composure. Carol had a way of remaining firm yet controlled, her authority unshakable. It was a balance he often tried to maintain himself, but watching her in this moment reminded him why they worked so well as a team. She wasn’t just disciplining Lucy’s actions; she was teaching their daughter a lesson about accountability, one that Lucy would feel in more ways than one.
His gaze drifted back to Lucy’s reddened cheeks, now trembling under the renewed onslaught of the hairbrush. Each crack of the wood against her skin seemed to amplify her cries, her legs kicking in protest. Tom felt a pang of sympathy—he hated seeing his daughters in pain—but he knew it was necessary. The sting of this punishment would fade, but the lesson had to stick.
She needs this, Tom reminded himself, forcing his resolve to remain steady. She put herself—and her sisters—in danger.
Still, he couldn’t deny the awkwardness of the moment. There was something humbling about seeing his teenage daughter in such a vulnerable position, stripped of her usual defiance and composure. He didn’t enjoy her humiliation, but he knew that the embarrassment, along with the sting, was part of the punishment. It was a moment she wouldn’t forget. None of them would.
“Stop kicking, Lucy,” Tom said from his position nearby. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”
But Lucy couldn’t control her reactions. Her legs flailed wildly, her toes curling as she tried to twist away from the punishing strokes. Carol, undeterred, focused on Lucy’s sit spots, delivering several sharp smacks to the tender area where her bottom met her thighs.
“Ahhh! Mom, please, I’m sorry!” Lucy wailed, tears streaming down her face.
“Sorry isn’t enough,” Carol replied, punctuating her words with firm smacks. “You need to learn to respect the rules. You could have been hurt—or worse. Do you understand how serious this is?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Lucy sobbed, her voice high-pitched and desperate. “I’ll never do it again, I promise!”
Carol didn’t stop immediately, ensuring Lucy’s bottom was thoroughly spanked. By the time she set the brush down, Lucy’s cheeks were a fiery, blotchy red, with darker marks from the hairbrush standing out against her otherwise glowing skin. Her sit spots were especially tender, and her thighs bore a few pink patches as well.
Carol helped her to her feet, but Lucy couldn’t bring herself to meet her parents’ eyes. She was too consumed by the pain and the overwhelming humiliation of being so completely disciplined.
“Wall. Now,” Carol ordered, pointing to the same wall where Emma was still standing.
Lucy sniffled and shuffled over, her swimsuit bottoms and shorts still tangled around her knees. As she reached the wall, her hands instinctively flew to her burning bottom.
“Hands on your head,” Tom barked. “You know better than that.”
With a fresh wave of tears, Lucy complied, clasping her hands atop her head and standing beside Emma. Her fuller, deeply reddened bottom was a stark contrast to her younger sister’s smaller, pinker cheeks, which still carried the softer marks of a less intense punishment. The sight of both girls lined up, bare and spanked, was a vivid reminder of the price of disobedience.
——
Sarah’s Turn
“Sarah,” Tom called, his deep voice reverberating through the house. The eldest daughter stood frozen at the top of the stairs. She’d heard every smack of her sisters’ punishments, the sound of the hairbrush mingling with their cries and yelps. She knew her turn was next, but dread kept her rooted in place.
“Sarah!” Tom’s voice was firmer this time. Slowly, she descended, her heart pounding in her chest. Her steps faltered when she reached the doorway and caught sight of her sisters standing in the corner. Emma’s smaller, tender cheeks were pink and blotchy, while Lucy’s fuller, rounder bottom was a fiery, angry red, marked with dark splotches from the hairbrush. The sight made Sarah’s stomach churn. She tried to keep her composure, but the sting of humiliation was already setting in, even before her spanking began.
As Sarah stepped into the room, she turned to her mother with wide, pleading eyes. “Mom, please… I’m too old for this,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve learned my lesson. You don’t have to do this.”
Carol stood from the chair, brushing off Sarah’s protests. “Oh, I’m not going to spank you, Sarah,” she said coolly, stepping aside. “Your father is.”
Sarah’s face paled. “No… Dad, please!” she cried, panic creeping into her voice. She instinctively took a step back. “I’m too old! You can’t… I mean, I’ll never do it again, I swear. Can’t we just talk about this?”
Tom sat down in the chair, his face set with calm authority. “Sarah, come here.”
“No!” Sarah wailed, her voice taking on a childish, desperate tone. “I’ll do anything—ground me, take my phone, anything but this!”
Tom didn’t budge. “Sarah, you disobeyed us. You led your sisters into danger, and as the oldest, you should have known better. I warned you there would be consequences, and now you’re going to face them. Come here. Now.”
Sarah glanced back at the corner, where Emma and Lucy stood silently, their hands on their heads, their bare, reddened bottoms a stark reminder of what was to come. She swallowed hard, her tears already starting to flow.
When she didn’t move, Tom stood and grabbed her gently but firmly by the arm, guiding her toward the chair. Sarah resisted, planting her feet and twisting away. “Dad, please! I’m seventeen! I’m too old to be spanked!”
“You’re not too old to be held accountable for your actions,” Tom said, his voice unyielding. He sat down again, pulling Sarah forward. “If you won’t get over my knee on your own, I’ll put you there myself.”
With ease, he lifted Sarah’s squirming body and laid her over his lap. She let out an indignant cry, kicking her legs as her long, lean frame settled awkwardly into place. Her humiliation deepened as she felt his hands at her waistband, tugging her shorts and bikini bottoms down to her knees in one swift motion. The exposure was unbearable.
“No! Dad, please, don’t!” Sarah cried, her face burning as she felt the cool air against her bare skin. Her mature, shapely bottom was completely exposed, its smooth, pale surface unmarked but trembling under his hand.
“You’ve earned this, Sarah,” Tom said sternly, raising his hand.
The first crack landed hard across the center of her bottom, making Sarah gasp. The sound was louder than it had been with her sisters, and the sting was sharper than she’d anticipated. The second smack came quickly, followed by a third, and Sarah lost what little composure she’d managed to hold onto.
“Ahh! No! It hurts!” she cried, kicking her legs and twisting her body, but Tom held her firmly in place.
“It’s supposed to hurt,” he said, delivering another series of sharp smacks. Her pale skin turned pink almost immediately, the color spreading across her round cheeks as the spanking continued.
“Daddy, please! I’m sorry!” Sarah sobbed, her voice breaking like that of a much younger child. Despite being the oldest, she cried and pleaded far more loudly and desperately than either Emma or Lucy. Her legs flailed helplessly, and she twisted her upper body, trying to shield her bottom, but Tom’s hand was relentless.
“You’re not too old for this, Sarah,” Tom said, his voice calm but firm. “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”
When her squirming became too much, he paused. “Stop fighting me, Sarah, or this will get much worse.”
“Please! I’m sorry! I’ll be good!” she wailed, tears streaming down her face.
Ignoring her pleas, Tom picked up the hairbrush. The first whap of the wood against her already-pink bottom made Sarah scream, her legs kicking so wildly that her shorts and bikini bottoms slipped further down her thighs. The brush left deep red ovals on her skin, each strike more punishing than the last.
“Keep still,” Tom ordered, his free hand pressing firmly on her lower back. But Sarah couldn’t control herself. She twisted and cried, her voice rising to a high-pitched wail that made her sound far younger than seventeen.
As Sarah’s cries filled the room, Emma and Lucy stood side by side against the wall, their hands clasped on their heads. But neither of them was thinking about their own spankings anymore. Both were transfixed by the sound of their eldest sister’s punishment. Sarah’s cries were louder, more desperate than either of theirs had been.
“Daddy, please! I’ll be good!” Sarah sobbed, her voice breaking as the sharp crack of the hairbrush filled the room.
Emma winced, her hands trembling atop her head. She darted a glance sideways at Lucy, whose face mirrored her own mix of fear and disbelief. The sound of the hairbrush landing on Sarah’s bare bottom was relentless, each loud whap followed by Sarah’s high-pitched wails and frantic kicking.
Lucy swallowed hard, her cheeks still wet with tears. She leaned slightly toward Emma, whispering as softly as she could, “She’s crying so much… more than me.”
Emma gave a tiny nod, her lower lip trembling. “He’s spanking her harder,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible.
Both girls flinched as Sarah let out a fresh scream, her voice breaking into hiccupping sobs. They couldn’t see her from their position, but they didn’t need to.
“You’re the oldest, Sarah,” Tom barked over her cries. “This is what happens when you lead your sisters into danger.”
Lucy, her own bottom throbbing from her earlier punishment, glanced sideways at Emma again. “She’s… acting like a baby,” she whispered, her voice a mix of disbelief and nervousness.
Emma hesitated, then nodded. “She’s kicking so much,” she murmured, her eyes wide. “And screaming more than you did.”
Lucy’s lips tightened as her cheeks flushed—not just from the lingering sting in her backside but from the realization that Sarah, the oldest and most confident of the three, was completely falling apart. The knowledge that they were hearing her humiliation from the corner added another layer to the shame Sarah was no doubt feeling.
Neither could stop hearing Sarah’s punishment. The loud, rhythmic whap of the hairbrush and the high-pitched sobs that followed made them both instinctively clench their own still-sore bottoms. Each smack felt like a reminder of what they’d just endured—and a warning never to cross the line again.
By the time Tom finished, Sarah’s bottom was a deep crimson, the marks from the hairbrush standing out starkly against her swollen skin. Her sit spots were particularly red, and the heat radiated off her punished cheeks.
The room fell into a heavy silence once the last crack of the hairbrush had landed on Sarah’s swollen bottom. Her cries, however, did not. The eldest sister sobbed openly, her voice trembling and broken, sounding far younger than her seventeen years.
“Up,” Tom commanded, helping her to her feet. Sarah stumbled slightly, her face streaked with tears, her hands immediately flying to cover her flaming backside.
“Hands on your head, Sarah,” Tom ordered sternly.
“Please, Daddy,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, desperate for some relief. “I… I can’t…”
“Now.”
Biting her lip, Sarah slowly raised her hands, clasping them behind her head, exposing her crimson, thoroughly punished bottom. Tom motioned toward the wall. “Go stand with your sisters.”
Sarah hesitated, her teary eyes darting toward the corner, where Emma and Lucy were already standing, their bare bottoms facing the room. Both glanced back over their shoulders, their faces full of trepidation as they watched their older sister shuffle to join them. Her bikini bottoms and shorts were still tangled around her knees, forcing her to hobble awkwardly, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over her with every step.
——
Timeout
Finally, Sarah took her place beside Emma and Lucy, her hands still on her head as she faced the wall. The three sisters stood side by side, their bare, spanked bottoms on full display, each one telling a story of discipline and consequence.
Emma’s small, petite bottom, the lightest shade of pink, still bore faint handprints from Carol’s firm but restrained punishment. The blotchy red splotches on the lower curves and her tender sit spots were evidence that her spanking had been thorough but gentler, fitting for her age and stature. Her shoulders trembled slightly as she sniffled, stealing glances at her sisters out of the corner of her eye.
Lucy’s rounder, fuller bottom stood out in stark contrast. Bright red and evenly marked, her cheeks bore the distinct oval imprints of the hairbrush, with deeper shades of crimson along her sit spots and upper thighs. The marks spoke of a harsher punishment, one befitting her role as an older sibling who should have known better. She clenched and unclenched her cheeks instinctively, trying to ease the relentless sting, though she didn’t dare move her hands from her head.
Then there was Sarah. Her bottom was the darkest and most marked of the three, glowing an angry, swollen crimson that extended far down to the tops of her thighs. The blotches and deep splotches from the hairbrush were vivid, each one a reminder of her position as the eldest—and the one who had led her sisters into trouble. Her long legs shifted uneasily as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, and her loud, hiccuping sobs filled the room.
Despite being the oldest, Sarah was carrying on the most childishly, her cries unrestrained and her composure completely shattered. She whimpered softly, her shoulders shaking as she fought to control her breathing, but the pain in her thoroughly punished bottom and the humiliation of standing bare beside her younger sisters was too much to bear.
Emma and Lucy exchanged brief glances, their own tears momentarily forgotten as they watched Sarah break down. Though they had both cried during their spankings, neither had sobbed with the raw intensity Sarah now displayed. It was jarring to see their usually confident, composed older sister reduced to this state.
Tom crossed his arms, his voice firm but calm. “You’ll stay here until you’ve had time to think about why this happened. We don’t set rules to punish you—we set rules to protect you. And when you break those rules, there are consequences. Let this be a reminder of that.”
The room was heavy with silence, broken only by Sarah’s muffled sobs and the occasional sniffle from Emma. The girls remained still, their hands clasped atop their heads, their spanked, bare bottoms visible for their parents to see—and for each other to endure.
Carol took a step back, surveying them with a mixture of firmness and finality. Each of her daughters had received exactly what they’d earned. Emma’s small, pink cheeks trembled slightly as she shifted her weight, the tender marks from her spanking clear but less severe than the others. Lucy’s bright red bottom, with darker splotches from the hairbrush, was evidence of a harsher punishment, one she’d earned for her role as the middle child who should have known better. And then there was Sarah, the eldest. Her bottom was the most striking, glowing an angry crimson and marked with vivid, swollen patches. The sight of her older daughter’s raw punishment made Carol’s gaze linger for a moment longer, but she reminded herself that Sarah’s defiance and responsibility had demanded nothing less.
“Each of you had a part in this,” Carol continued, her tone unwavering. “But Sarah…” She turned her attention to her oldest daughter, who was still hiccupping through her tears. “As the eldest, you should have been the one to stop this from happening. Instead, you led your sisters into danger, and you let them down. I hope the lesson you’ve learned today sticks with you the most.”
Sarah sniffled loudly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ma’am… I’m sorry…”
Tom stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “And to all of you: if this ever happens again, the consequences will be even worse. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Emma said softly, her voice trembling.
“Yes, sir,” Lucy mumbled, her head still facing the wall.
Sarah hiccupped again, her voice hoarse from crying. “Yes, sir,” she choked out.
Satisfied, Tom nodded. “Good. Now, you’ll stay here until we say otherwise. No fidgeting, no talking. Reflect on what’s happened and why you’re in this position.”
The girls remained silent, their bare, spanked bottoms glowing under the room’s warm light. Emma, the smallest, shifted slightly, her pink cheeks still stinging but far less tender than her sisters’. She bit her lip, stealing another sideways glance at Lucy’s fuller, darkly blotched bottom before quickly averting her eyes, not wanting to draw attention to herself.
Lucy, her arms beginning to ache from holding them above her head, clenched her jaw as the heat from her spanking radiated across her skin. Her cheeks burned not just from the punishment but also from the humiliation of standing next to her younger sister and knowing her bottom told the story of a harsher discipline. Her gaze flickered briefly to Sarah, who was openly sobbing beside her.
Sarah’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as she continued to cry, her legs trembling as she fought to remain still. The throbbing in her crimson, swollen bottom was unbearable, the hairbrush’s relentless marks etched deeply into her skin. Though she was the oldest, her humiliation was the most profound; not only had she been spanked like a child, but now she was lined up beside her younger sisters, her punishment the most severe and obvious of them all.
Carol turned to Tom, lowering her voice. “They’ll remember this,” she said, her tone softer now, though her authority remained. “Especially Sarah.”
Tom nodded, glancing once more at the row of spanked daughters. “Good. They needed to learn this lesson—and I think it’s safe to say they won’t forget it anytime soon.”
And indeed, they wouldn’t. As the minutes stretched on, the girls stood in silence, their stinging, glowing bottoms a vivid reminder of the consequences of disobedience, each one silently vowing never to make the same mistake again.
——
Final Scolding
The room grew still as the minutes turned into an hour. The three sisters remained in the corner, their hands trembling atop their heads, their bare, spanked bottoms on full display. The sting hadn’t subsided; if anything, the discomfort only deepened as time wore on. None of them dared move, knowing that even the smallest shift could result in more punishment. The shame was unbearable—not just the pain in their bottoms, but the sheer humiliation of being exposed side by side for so long.
Finally, Carol returned to the room, her footsteps soft but commanding. Tom had left to let her handle the final part of the discipline alone. The girls heard her approaching, their hearts racing in unison. Carol stepped behind them, her sharp eyes taking in their quivering postures and the vivid contrast between their spanked cheeks.
“Turn around,” she said firmly.
None of the girls moved at first, as if unsure they’d heard her correctly.
“I said, turn around,” Carol repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Slowly, one by one, the girls turned to face her. Their hands stayed awkwardly atop their heads, as instructed, leaving them completely bare from the waist down. Emma’s face was red with tears, and she couldn’t look her mother in the eye. Lucy fidgeted slightly, her bottom still throbbing, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Sarah, despite being the oldest, sobbed softly, her humiliation complete as she stood bare and exposed before her mother.
Carol let the silence linger for a moment, her gaze traveling over each of them. The girls’ faces burned, knowing exactly how much they were showing, but Carol’s stern expression didn’t waver.
“Look at me,” she commanded. Emma sniffled, glancing up hesitantly, while Lucy bit her lip and forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes. Sarah wiped her nose with her arm, hiccupping, but eventually did the same.
“This is the price of disobedience,” Carol said, her voice steady. “You broke our trust, you put yourselves in danger, and worst of all, you ignored the rules that were set to protect you. You will never do this again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Emma whispered, her small voice trembling.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy echoed, her tone quiet but resolute.
Sarah nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Yes, ma’am,” she said hoarsely, her voice breaking.
Carol’s sharp gaze lingered on Sarah. “You’re the oldest. I expect you to set an example. That means being responsible, being smart, and looking out for your sisters—not leading them into trouble. Today, you failed them. I trust you’ll never make that mistake again.”
“No, ma’am. I won’t,” Sarah said, her voice cracking as she tried to compose herself.
Carol’s eyes softened just slightly, but her tone remained firm. “Good. Now, I want you all to remember how you feel right now. Not just the sting in your bottoms, but the embarrassment of standing here like this. The next time you’re tempted to disobey, I want you to think about this moment.”
The girls nodded quickly, eager for this lecture—and their humiliation—to end.
Carol took a step back, crossing her arms. “You may pull up your shorts and go to your rooms. I expect you to spend the rest of the evening reflecting on what happened.”
Emma immediately reached down, tugging her shorts and swimsuit bottoms back into place. She winced as the fabric brushed her tender skin, but she didn’t say a word. Lucy followed suit, her face flushing as she fumbled to pull her clothes back up over her still-throbbing cheeks. Sarah, moving slower than her sisters, bent down awkwardly to retrieve her bikini bottoms and shorts. As she pulled them over her swollen, crimson bottom, she let out a small, involuntary hiss of pain.
Once dressed, the three girls stood awkwardly, unsure if they were allowed to leave until Carol gave the final word. “Go,” she said firmly, motioning toward the stairs.
The girls didn’t need to be told twice. They shuffled out of the room, their heads down, their movements stiff from the lingering pain. Upstairs, they disappeared into their respective rooms, closing the doors quietly behind them, each one knowing they wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for quite some time.
Carol remained in the living room, taking a deep breath. Her gaze shifted to the now-empty corner, and she nodded to herself. The punishment had been harsh, but it had been necessary. She knew they wouldn’t forget this day anytime soon—and neither would she.
No comments:
Post a Comment