15-year Old Girl Has Her Panties Lowered For Spanking By Stepdad In Front Of Younger Boys
Imagine being a 15-year old girl, wearing a midriff-baring cropped t-shirt and bra, trembling with your pants at your ankles and only a pair of thin cotton panties shielding your most private area from the four pairs of male eyes a few yards away belonging to your younger brother, two of his friends and your 10-year old cousin.
Then imagine those panties in the process of being pulled down by your stepdad as prelude to a spanking and you have an idea of what it would have felt like to be me one afternoon in October 2000.
As I have said elsewhere on this blog, I still feel guilty for not doing enough during my teen years to protect my younger brother from the abusive and frequent spankings our stepdad gave him.
I firmly believe I should have and could have helped my younger brother. Anything I could have done to take responsibility and gotten spanked for in his place would have meant one less spanking he would have received.
I remember one time I got into a brief argument with my stepdad who was about to spank Matt. When he threatened to spank me if I didn’t watch my mouth and shut up, I quickly backed down and Matt got spanked. That’s about the closest I ever came to trying to take some blame and I’m ashamed of myself for not having been more forceful.
Here’s just one example:
Not long after I turned 15, a little less than two years before those spankings I feared so much and managed to avoid started for me, my 12-year old brother had two of his friends in the neighborhood over to play. One of the boys, Dennis, was a 11-year old kid who I occasionally babysat. The other boy, Patrick, who I believe was 12 at the time, lived across the street from us. Our 10-year old cousin Jerry was also there and we were all playing in our backyard.
It all started with a crash.
A baseball that my brother had threw broke and entered the window and went into the room where our stepdad was watching TV and he was soon outside demanding all of us to come inside, threatening my brother and I with a spanking.
I was terrified when he called me over first, perhaps because earlier when he saw us outside one of my throws came precariously close to that same window.
“One of you is getting spanked. Becky, get over here. NOW!”
He told me to get my pants down because he was going to teach my “bare butt a lesson.”
All four boys were in the room and not going anywhere. Nor were they asked to. It was immediately clear that if I was to be spanked, they’d be watching.
At first I babbled incoherenty, my eyes welling with tears, standing parlayzed by fear facing the boys after my stepdad demanded for me to turn around, but ignoring his demand to pull down my pants.
It wasn’t the first time I faced the threat of an imminent bare bottom spanking from him, fate intervening each time on my behalf. But it appeared that this time my luck had run out.
My stepdad then reached around me. My pants were soon unbuttoned and then unzipped for me.
As goosebumps covered me and my face blushed with the boys looking at me, my pants were soon roughly pulled down to my ankles to a few snickers from a couple of the boys.
Not one to waste any time, my stepdad then quickly slipped his fingers inside the waistband of my panties, which had already betrayed me and had lowered themselves enough to expose the top of my mound when my pants came down.
As my brother looked cautiously relieved that I, not him, was the one about to be spanked, the other three boys grinned at me in anticipation, their eyes riveted on my panties and the mysterious area to them that was about to be fully revealed.
At that point, I desperately wanted to avoid eye contact with the boys and yet found I couldn’t avoid it, as if somehow I was hoping against hope to see them look away at the last moment.
Then, somehow, just as I started to feel the inevitable tug at my panties, I am ashamed to say that I disgracefully managed to blurt out and plead that I shouldn’t be spanked, that my brother had made the errant throw that had broken the window.
Though a few more giggles ensued, my stepdad stopped the downward motion of his fingers and my panties – although much more of my mound and large whisps of my pubic hair were now exposed – were staying up, barely, for the moment at least.
My brother, with a fear of dread on his face, was then asked who broke the window. I didn’t move a muscle, my stepdad saying if he didn’t answer in three seconds, he’d be spanked ”next.”
My brother could have lied or he could have accused me. Or he could have simply told the truth, that a mere moments before I switched places with him after nearly hitting the window myself. Then both of us would have been spanked for sure, but at least he would have insured that I shared the same fate as he would.
But my brother quickly admitted that it was he who broke the window.
Almost as quickly as I was told to pull up my pants, my brother was soon having his unfastened and pulled down.
I couldn’t bear to watch. Free to go, I moved aside, tripping over my own pants which were still at my ankles. As I looked down to pull them up, I gasped at just how much of my mound had been exposed. To my horror Patrick noticed and snickered at me as I struggled with my pants, as I had not realized I had lifted one leg out of them entirely when I tripped. Anxious to leave the room just in case my stepdad decided to spank me anyway, I stepped out of my pants entirely and ran upstairs to the giggles of each boy there except my brother, who was by now crying from the slaps to his bare bottom.
I also didn’t realize that just as my panties had been partially lowered in the front, they had been partially lowered in the back as well and half of my butt crack was showing to the boys when I stooped down trying to pull up my pants. I only found out how much they had seen when I eavesdropped on my cousin and my brother outside my brother’s bedroom later that night. Apparently, my pubic hair was also of quite an interest to them, Jerry berating my brother that he should have kept quiet until I was bared all the way and spanked.
And that’s just one time because of my cowardness that my brother got spanked.
I don’t feel either of us should have been spanked for that broken window. But my brother did get spanked that day in front of his friends. And since he was so should I have been. And in the same manner, too: bare from the waist down.
Would I have been humiliated if I was spanked like that in front of my brother and the other three boys? Of course!
But I was just as every bit deserving of any punishment that my brother got as it was I who was probably standing too close to that window to catch his throws in the first place. Nor do I feel it mattered I was the girl who would have been spanked in front of boys. Being the oldest one playing outside, I should have known better but didn’t have the courage to tell that to my stepdad and insist that I alone be punished.
The fact that both Dennis (the boy I babysat) and my cousin Jerry would eventually see me exposed and spanked over a year and a half later and that my brother would eventually see me frequently exposed and spanked by our stepdad when I was 16 and 17 doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.
I could have done something that day to prevent a spanking that my brother DID receive and I did NOTHING.
I know that adults opposed to spanking kids would say I didn’t deserve one. And again, I don’t think either my brother or I did deserve a spanking that day.
But I can’t help but wonder how parents who believe in bare bottom spankings, even for teenagers, would have handled it.