Cindy: Last Two Parental SpankingsbyTruthAndLove©
Cindy: Last Two Parental Spankings
This story is about the Cindy in my series of Cindy & Raj stories; but it takes place when she is eighteen, before she met Raj.
Jake Patterson was just two years older than Cindy Johnson. They had occasionally been playmates as small children and they had attended the same grade school. But they lost touch in later years when a change in school district boundaries put them in different high schools. Technically, they were neighbors since the Johnson and Patterson properties bordered on each other. But that was misleading since the two homes were a third of a mile apart. Each property had several hundred acres of woods and meadows interlaced with bridal trails. Since the properties weren't fenced, the two families effectively shared this area. So it was something of a joke within their social circle that the new school district boundary passed between the two homes.
Cindy remembered Jake as a happy carefree boy who didn't excel at anything, but seemed unbothered by that fact. In her memory he was always running around with a smile on his face and a perpetually mussed head of brown hair on his head. An insistent cowlick was forever waving above his head like his own personal battle flag.
In his last year in high school Jake got mixed up with a gang of small time juvenile delinquents. They weren't truly criminals-in-the-making, more like upper class kids who were bored; but their antics escalated and a week following graduation they were arrested for car theft. An exasperated judge, who had given Jake probation on several prior offenses, this time gave him a stark choice: ten months in a state work farm or join the army. Jake chose the army.
Two years later, Jake returned from a tour of duty in Iraq, with a Purple Heart for a serious but not debilitating wound, and Cindy's parents, James and Barbara, hosted a welcome home party for him at their house. Cindy was leaving for college in a week, so it was partly also a farewell party for her. Nearly 100 people from the Johnson and Patterson social circle attended. Jake, still in his corporal's uniform, sat on the arm of a chair chatting with middle-aged men about war and wounds. So many guests wanted to inspect the long shrapnel scar on his arm that finally left the sleeve on that side rolled up.
As he sat there, Jake seemed to be in a state of relaxation that wasn't available to mere mortals. Like the most popular male movie stars, he seemed to have acquired a kind of permanent imperturbability. He was cool. He would always be cool. He was surrounded by an invisible force field that deflected anything the least bit disturbing, or at least held it at bay long enough for Jake to react calmly, thoughtfully, and confidently to it.
Every now and then he would survey the room, catching the eye of old friends and schoolmates, and holding his gaze on them for a couple of seconds, in a silent greeting. Cindy noticed that he still had an irrepressible smile, but it wasn't the open-mouthed exuberant smile of his childhood. It was closed-mouth and it was bigger on one side than the other, not asymmetrical enough to make it a cynical smirk, but enough to make it a knowing smile. And he smiled with his eyes now as much as with his lips. He reminded Cindy of the movie star, George Clooney.
When he spotted Cindy across the room, he locked eyes with her for a few seconds and raised the glass of whiskey he was holding in a salute of recognition.
"Yes, I remember you," he seemed to be saying with that salute, "the little girl with the pale blond hair from the other side of the woods."
But it seemed to Cindy when she looked into those smiling eyes that there was a bright light shining from deep inside them. The light seemed to say that inside Jake's head was the knowledge and experience of a much older man.
"I know you. I know what you need and I know how to give it to you," the light said to Cindy, and she found herself blushing.
The many teenage girls in attendance eyed Jake shyly, but hungrily, from a distance. The bolder ones found excuses to approach him and flirt, and he flirted back amiably. The girls giggled and pinkened at everything he said, even though he wasn't trying to be funny. When the flirting girl of the moment saw the scar, she would grow serious and stare it with eyes wide and a little glazed. One or two impulsively reached out to trace its length with a finger.
"Did it hurt?" Cindy's friend Laurie asked him breathily when she took a turn flirting with the hero.
"Naahh," he started to reply but then changed his mind, dropping his smile for the only time the whole evening, "... well yeah, it did ... like hell ... but I gave back more than I took. The bastard who threw the fragmentation grenade is now six feet under."
As he said this Jake stared hard into Laurie's eyes and she stared back, oblivious of the people around her, wallowing in the sense of inner hardness Jake projected. Cindy, standing close enough to overhear while chatting with others, knew that Laurie was undoubtedly growing moist between her legs.
But when the party broke up and the guests were all saying their goodbyes, it wasn't Laurie that he sought out, or the girls who had fingered his scar or any of the others that had flirted with him. It was Cindy.
He approached her from the side and briefly took her left hand in his right. He didn't raise her hand, but left it hanging and Cindy felt him press a folded piece of paper into her palm and close her fingers over it. He said nothing as he did this and he immediately moved on to say goodbye to others without looking back.
Later when the Pattersons and all the guests had gone home, she read the note.
"Meet me by The Boulder in an hour," it read.
The Boulder, as the two families called it, was nearly eight feet high and nearly 40 feet in circumference and it sat in the woods about halfway between the Johnson and Patterson houses. Local legend said it was a meteorite. It had served as a fort and a mountain when the Patterson boys were growing up and as a princess's castle when Cindy and her friends had played there. In recent years, with all the children grown up, the area around The Boulder had become overgrown.
One Saturday Cindy was wandering in the woods when she came upon the oldest Patterson boy, Jeff, then aged twenty-two, and his current girlfriend. They were lying naked in a small sunlight patch of grass between the trees and Jeff was humping the girl vigorously. Crouching in shade behind The Boulder about twenty feet away, Cindy peeked around the rock to spy on them, watching in fascination as they fucked and the girl moaned ever louder until, finally, she stiffened and seemed to go limp. Several seconds later, Jeff stiffened and collapsed on top of her.
Cindy snuck quietly away, but ever since then, on weekend nights when she was alone and bored, she would walk through the woods to The Boulder and crouch behind it ... waiting.
In this way, she frequently got a free sex show from Jeff or the middle brother Jason, a year older than Jake, and the girl friend of the evening. She witnessed oral sex, sixty-nine, anal sex, and intercourse in a wide variety of positions. She was probably the most knowledgeable virgin on the planet. Cindy never told her parents about her advanced sex education, but she confided in her girlfriends and it soon became a regular feature of sleepover parties at Cindy's house for the girls to sneak out to Cindy's outdoor sex classroom and wait in hiding, hoping for a show. They were often disappointed, but occasionally a Patterson and paramour did show up and unknowingly put on a demonstration.
A few months earlier, not long after her eighteenth birthday, Cindy's parents had learned of the weekend voyeurism when Laurie, temporarily angry at Cindy for some triviality, squealed. Cindy's father was aghast at her breach of the Patterson family's privacy. Her mother, as always, was less concerned about the Pattersons than she was about the effect the whole thing would have on her own family's reputation.
The Johnsons decided not to tell the Pattersons; that would needlessly poison a twenty year friendship. But Cindy was severely spanked.
That evening, after Cindy's parents scolded her, they each took her by a hand and led her outside to the woods.
"Your punishment will be outdoors," her father explained, "where there is at least some chance that you will be seen by others. This will help impress upon you the seriousness of spying on people."
In truth, there were no other homes within sight of Cindy's, but even a slight possibility of being seen pantless was mortifying. She was ordered to drop her jeans and step out of them. When she tearfully did so, looking around the woods to see if perchance someone was walking the trails, both James and Barbara's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of their daughter's panties. They were bright red thongs that left both her buttocks completely bare. Neither parent had any idea that she owned such underwear and they stared in stunned silence for several seconds.
"Good God, Cindy!" her mother finally exclaimed. "Please tell me you don't wear those to school on gym days."
"You can have that conversation later," her father interrupted. "There is the matter at hand. Reach up and hold the tree branch above your head, Cindy, and keep your hands on it. No covering up."
Cindy had her growth spurt in the previous year. She shot up to 5 feet, 7 inches. Since her hip and breast growth could not keep up, she became comparatively less curvy and people began to describe her as "coltish," a metaphor that seemed all the more apt because her straight pale blond hair fell to her mid back and in even the slightest breeze it waved behind her like the mane of a exuberant pony.
It was this long, lanky eighteen year old who reached up with both hands and grabbed the tree branch about a foot and a half above her head. The wind blew her hair off to one side and caused her light summer top to billow up to just under her breasts. She was a tall, thin, long-legged pale statue, nearly naked, with a bright red thong mid-body advertising her sexual maturity and framing her bottom like a target.
Her father had only used his hand to spank her in the past, save for a couple of times when he used a wooden ruler. He was so angry on this occasion, however, that he had picked up a springy switch from the ground.
"You will receive fifty, very hard," James said, "and then you will tell me what you have learned about invading other people's privacy."
He whipped her bottom three times very rapidly, and she stiffened and gasped out an "Oww."
He resumed and gave her the remainder without stopping. The switch made a slight "shhhhh" sound as it moved through the air and a very quick "FIPT" sound when it landed on Cindy's skin. Her father spanked her so fast the two sounds seemed to merge into one.
By the eighth stroke, her eyes were watering and she was uttering a continuous series of "uh" sounds. They didn't correlate with the strokes because her father was switching faster than she could make the sound.
By the fifteenth stroke she was clenching and unclenching her buttocks as if she could squeeze the pain away.
By the twenty-second, she was crying continuously, and she was unconsciously rising up to tip toe on first one leg, and then the other, as if she were dancing a Samba. Her exclamations of pain had become longer and lower; "ohhhhh!" "owwwww!" "anh-anh-anh!"
By the thirtieth, the Samba had become the Twist as she blubbered incoherently.
By the fortieth she was begging to be let off the remainder, while she her long thin legs kicked and her boyish hips twisted and clenched in a shameless display for her parents.
After the final stroke, she let go the branch and rubbed her red bottom with both hands while continuing to blubber and twist luridly.
When she finally calmed enough, she stammered out her lesson.
"I- I- I have ... ow ... l-learned that it is v-v-very ... unh ... b-bad to spy on p-people. I will n-n-never ... ahh ... invade anyone's p-privacy ag-gain."
She gingerly bent to pick up her jeans, but was interrupted by her mother's voice.
"Not so fast, young lady. That was his lesson. Now I'm going to teach you one about risking your family's reputation."
Grabbing Cindy by the wrist, Barbara pulled her to the nearest fallen tree trunk and ordered her to lay across it with her bottom higher than any other part of her. Barbara put her hands on the waistband of Cindy's thong and then paused to look at her husband. James immediately walked to the house and went inside. It was his practice never to see his daughter entirely bottomless.
When he was gone, Barbara yanked the thong to Cindy's ankles and pulled it off her feet. Barbara then pulled off one of her own shoes and began to smack Cindy's bottom with the sole.
Since her bottom was already super sensitive, it wasn't long before Cindy was once again blubbering and kicking salaciously. This time the dance was dirtier than ever because it included flashes of her privates and even her anus. When her arm tired, Barbara used the last few spanks to drive home the lesson word by word.
When Cindy was finally allowed to walk stiffly inside, she soaked her bottom in a bath tub of cold water until bedtime.
As the pain subsided and the bathwater warmed to room temperature, Cindy felt grateful that the Pattersons would never know about her spying. Then she found herself wondering what would happen if the Pattersons found out anyway. Before long this led her to imagine what it would be like if it had been the two older Patterson brothers that she had spied on, Jeff and Jason, who had given her the outdoor spanking.
In her imagination, Jeff had held her against his chest while Jason pulled down her pants revealing her red thong. It was Jason who switched her 50 times. She struggled but Jeff's arms where like steel and his chest like stone. Then the brothers in her daydream traded places. Jason held her while Jeff pulled off the thongs and spanked her with a shoe on her bare behind while she squirmed and twisted. It was Jeff's voice that chanted with the final spanks. You. Will. Never. Spy. On. Your. Neighbors. Again.
When the imaginary Jeff reached the word "Again," the real life Cindy let out an audible "ohhh" and she realized that both her hands were under water. One set of fingertips was gently stroking her sensitive bottom. The other set was stroking her clitoral hood. She put a washcloth in her mouth to muffle her voice and then continued to masturbate until she was bucking her hips up and down in the tub, creating gale force waves on the water's surface. Finally she climaxed more powerfully than she ever had in her young life.
It wasn't so much the imagined spanking that turned her on, Cindy realized when she thought about it later.
It was the strength of their arms and chests.
It was that she couldn't get away.
It was the knowledge that they could do whatever they wanted to her, but also knowing that they would not give her any more than she deserved.
It was knowing they had control over her but also that they had scruples and would not do anything to seriously endanger or harm her.
It was knowing that if another man or, for that matter, a fox, came through the woods, they would have suspended the spanking and protected her from the intruder.
Within the circle made by male Patterson arms around her, they could punish her, but that circle kept everything outside it at bay. That was what she found so arousing.
But all that was months before. Tonight it was the youngest Patterson, Jake, who had slipped her the note.
After helping her mother with the cleanup after Jake's welcoming home party, Cindy changed into khakis and a tight white ribbed tank top which she pulled on over her braless breasts. She snuck out the back and walked the quarter mile to The Boulder.
Jake arrived in uniform although the shirt was now untucked and he'd changed to hiking shoes. His hair was mussed, too; but the unkempt look only made him seem even cooler and it did not mitigate in the slightest the sense of inner hardness he projected.
They said nothing as they came together. Jake put one arm around her waist and the palm of the other hand on her cheek. With his thumb under her chin, he tipped her face up to his. You couldn't call it a harsh move, but it wasn't really gentle either. It was insistent, uncompromising, and conveyed the message that he had decided to kiss her and she was going to obey, like it or not.
The moment he put his mouth on hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tip toe to kiss him back. When they broke the embrace, Jake put his hands on her flanks and slid them up taking the tank top up with them. He pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. He backed her up against The Boulder and kissed her again. She couldn't decide which was harder, the rock pressing against her back or the uniformed chest mashing her breasts.
With two long kisses he made her wetter than she'd ever been. Her nipples hardened and felt like they were trying to tear through the tank top. She knew at that moment that, while she would make an effort to resist him coyly, in the end she'd do anything he wanted if he pressed her even a little. She'd give him every orifice she had. Any perversion he imagined was his for the asking. And if he'd wanted her to rob banks or turn tricks for him, she'd do that too. She could refuse him nothing. She could not imagine any woman refusing him anything. It wasn't just his physical strength; it was his permanent cool, his knowing half smile, and his smiling eyes with their inner light.
Jake led her by the hand to the grassy spot where his brothers had had their way with so many other girls. He took off his shoes and socks and then unbuttoned his uniform shirt and shrugged it off. Cindy's eyes flashed at the sight of his chest and she impulsively put both hands on it, tracing his pecks with her finger tips. She moved down to his abs caressing his muscles, then went back up and down again, this time with her palms. When she reached his waist, she stared for a moment at the dark shadow in the slight gap between his pants and his body. Not entirely aware of what she was doing, she dropped to her knees, opened his pants, and pulled them down to his shins. She stared for a moment at his army-issue light green boxers, then looked up at him.
He looked down at her, not with lust, but with a look like a concerned doctor might give to a panicky patient who was describing her symptoms.
"It's alright," his eyes seemed to say, "I understand what you want to do right now and you go right ahead and do it. It's OK. I'll take care of everything." His hands stroked her face, neck, and shoulders.
Cindy looked down again to the green boxers, took the hem between thumb and forefinger of each hand and pulled them down to meet his pants. Jake stepped out of them and kicked them aside, but Cindy was not aware of this because she was staring at his semi-hard penis.
It wasn't icky like the flaccid ones in her biology book or even slightly comical like the erect ones she'd seen on Jake's two older brothers. It had a kind of beauty. Not the beauty of something new and shiny and symmetrical. It was more like the beauty of antique wood or an old warn leather wallet. Its beauty was the cumulative effect of all its little imperfections. But mostly it was beautiful because it was his. In Cindy's mind, it had become the center of his knowing smile, and his inner light that seemed to know all her desires and how to fulfill them.