About four days after I received my first full-blown spanking, my stepdad’s brother and sister-in-law came over one late afternoon. Neither my mom nor younger brother Matt were home at the time and my older brother Bobby was away with his girlfriend.
My stepdad was still angry and peeved at me and, as he often did, he sought validation of his point of view by others as a way of belittling and embarrassing me further.
Out of the blue he instructed me to go upstairs and show his brother and sister-in-law what a “slutty outfit” I had intended to wear to go swimming in. He just wanted them to add their two cents in telling me how “wrong” I was (and to reinforce that my recent spanking was justified).
I said “no” and said, “What’s the point, anyway? You said I can’t wear it.”
That just got his ire raised.
“The “point” is because I said so,” he growled.
Again, I refused to budge, saying, “No, there’s no reason to.”
His sister-in-law, Nicole, gave me a look of disapproval.
“Becky, don’t argue with your father,” she said, scolding me. “Go and change and let’s see what’s so bad about this swimsuit that he doesn’t want you to wear.”
I shook my head and said, “It doesn’t matter. He won’t let me wear.”
My stepdad was about out of patience with me and said, “Becky, don’t make me go upstairs to your room and bring it down here. Because if you don’t go up there right now and put it on now, I’ll undress you myself, give you a spanking and you’ll still have to put it on.”
My jaw dropped but Nicole just gave a shrug.
About ten seconds later, my stepdad had lost his patience.
“Fine,” he said. “If you want to embarrass yourself, that’s the way it will be.”
And with that comment, he spun me around to face his brother and sister-in-law and then reached around me to being unfastening my pants.
As he unzipped and unbuttoned them, he was still grumbling about my “disrespect” and “crappy attitude.” Within seconds my pants were below me my knees.
Blushing in embarrassment with everyone’s eyes focused on me, I pleaded, “Okay, okay. I’ll go put it on.”
“Too late,” was my stepdad’s reply and then he grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and began lifting it up.
“No, please,” I begged. “Don’t spank me. I’ll go put it on.”
But my t-shirt was soon up over my head, then off of me completely and tossed aside.
“Now, get those pants off,” he barked.
Reluctantly, I kicked off my shoes and then slipped off my pants – which had already fallen down to my ankles. As instructed, I neatly folded them up and set them aside.
Standing in nothing but a skimpy pair of bra and panties, I blushed red with embarrassment and clenched my teeth knowing what was coming off next.
As I closed my eyes in shame, I felt my stepdad slip his fingers into the waistband of my panties.
I muttered out one final plea, “Please don’t spank me. I’ll go put on my bikini. I promise. I promise.”
Miraculously, there was a pause in the downward movement of my panties before they betrayed my modesty.
My stepdad then said, “OK, Becky, go put it on. But if you don’t listen and I have to spank you tonight, you’ll get not one just a spanking now but another one tomorrow night right after supper.”
My eyes widen with trepidation.
“Huh? But isn’t Janet and her boys coming over tomorrow?”
(Janet, who was then divorced, is my stepdad’s first cousin; her two sons were then 14 and 11-years old.)
My stepdad nodded and Nicole just smirked as she said, “Then, if you don’t want to embarrass yourself tomorrow, you’d better get upstairs and change now. Right, Becky?”
I quickly nodded and rushed upstairs to change. My bra was off before I even got into my room and my panties a few seconds later. With about two minutes I was heading back downstairs in my g-strong thong bikini, albeit with a robe on which was tied closed around my waist.
As soon as I got back downstairs, I untied the robe and did a quick flash of my bikini to my stepdad’s brother and sister-in-law. But my stepdad told me to take off the robe completely.
“What?” I exclaimed. “But why?”
One stern, disapproving look was all I needed and the robe soon laying on top of my t-shirt and pants as I blushed in embarrassment with one arm draped across my chest and my left one brushing up and down my right thigh, trying to avoid showing the back of my thong to
“See what I mean?” my stepdad said to his brother and sister-in-law. Then to me, “Now turn around, Becky.”
Sure, if I wore it to the lake, people would see me. But there would either be friends. Or strangers who I’d most likely never see again. That would be my choice.
But, now, I was being forced to display my body in it for the sole purpose of being ridiculed so my stepdad could use his brother’s and sister-in-law’s criticism as justification for the spanking I had received over the weekend.
And so I had to do a 360, displaying all sides of my body.
My stepdad, of course, berated me by pointing out how little covering the bikini provided.
While my stepdad’s brother pretty much stayed quiet, mostly just nodding to agree with his wife and my stepdad, Nicole soon lashed out at me. She added to my humiliation by not only agreeing that the bottom front panel was too low cut and too revealing, but pointed out that anyone could see I wasn’t shaving.
When I embarrassing lean over towards her and said in a whisper that I did indeed intend to trim myself, she untied one string and pulled away the front of the bikini and observed that I would need more than just a trim because of how small that front part of the bikini was. I could have died of embarrassment with her husband standing right there looking down at my partial exposure.
At the same time, I mistakenly took that as an endorsement that she thought it was OK for me to wear it perhaps if I shaved myself completely. Until my stepdad stressed again that I had intended to wear it in public at the lake.
Nicole then expressed her disapproval, saying she thought I meant I was going to one of my girlfriends’ house swimming pool.
“Shame on you, Becky,” she scolded. “How could you embarrass your dad by wearing this in public?”
I protested, one hand trying to cover myself, “How would it embarrass HIM? He’s not going to be there. He has NO RIGHT to tell me what to wear!”
My response was quickly met with my stepdad swatting my behind quite hard. The shock made me instinctively reach back with both hands, my bottoms dropping down completely as I tried to grab them too late.
I swore in embarrassment, “Fuck!”
But when I reached down trying to pull them back up, my stepdad stuck his knee out and pulled me over it and I was soon getting a spanking.
“How many times have I told you to watch your mouth?” he yelled.
A few minutes later I was standing up, rubbing my sore bottom without any concern for my bottomless, sobbing and apologizing for talking back and swearing. Then he stood up and spun me around to face his brother and sister-in-law and apologize to them, too, for my (in his opinion) disrespect.
Nicole again told me I should be ashamed of myself, then told me to “pop your tits back into your top”, speculating that if they couldn’t remain covered for a “little spanking” how were they going to stay covered during a whole day of swimming and running about?
Thoroughly humiliated, I turned to look at my stepdad and asked if I could please go upstairs. He glanced in Nicole’s direction, then nodded and I quickly ran upstairs to my room, cried and buried my blushing face into my pillow.
I guess I soon cried myself to sleep, awakened only a few hours later when my younger brother Matt shook my shoulder to wake me up saying, “Becky… Oh, Becky Bare-Butt… Time to eat.”
It was difficult enough for me as a teenage girl to get much privacy with two brothers in the house without our stepdad stripping me bare in front of them to give me humiliating spankings. But that’s what happened when I was 16. I’m sure it’s not hard to imagine my mortification.
Somehow, until that summer of 2002, I lucked out. My younger brother? Not so much. He was regularly picked on, hounded, belittled and spanked. Regularly. Hardly a week or two would go by without poor Matt (who is nearly three years younger than me) having to sit at the supper table squirming as a result of a sore bottom. Even several of my older brother’s girlfriends witnessed his embarrassment, watching him rub his poor backside at the end of a spanking while standing bottomless in front of them in shame.
If I was present when my stepdad spanked my brother, I was never asked the leave the room. Yes, I was free to watch. But I knew my mom didn’t like my stepdad spanking Matt so on my own I’d usually get up and leave. But, until I was a teenager and finally realized how unfair Matt’s spankings were, I’d often smirk at my brother or stay just long enough to see him standing there in his tighty whities.
Sometimes, my brother would be carrying on to the point that he got spanked initially over his underwear. I watched a number of those spankings and am ashamed to admit I teased by brother afterward about them. And a few times I also watched my stepdad slip my brother’s underwear off while he was over his lap and spank his bare bottom hard.
One time, when in 6th grade and while my friend Melanie was over the house, my brother was getting a bare bottom spanking. When she heard him crying and asked me what was wrong, I suggested she go into the living room to find out. She returned with a look of horror on her face. Melanie said my stepdad was spanking my brother’s bare bottom and that it was very red. She said when Matt stood up, he was rubbing his bottom when he saw her. I giggled but Melanie said it wasn’t funny.
A few months I spent a weekend at Melanie’s house and found out then that Melanie’s stepmom often spanked her in front of her stepbrothers and, as I witnessed, sometimes with her panties down. I understood the pain, shame and humiliation that Melanie was going through and, in turn, my brother’s. That and then several times after that witnessing just how red my brother’s bare butt turned made me realize just how vicious the spankings from my stepdad were.
But I always lucked out. More than once our stepdad threatened to spank us both for something or sometimes just me. A few times I ended up over his lap with my skirt pulled up but fate would always intervene, usually my mom arguing with my stepdad, a phone call, whatever. And with each time I managed to avoid a spanking, I’m sure my younger brother felt I was getting away with stuff that I shouldn’t have and for which he got spanked, whether it was back-talking, not coming when called, misbehavior, getting in minor trouble at school, getting a bad grade or staying out past a curfew.
Gradually, I came to feel I wasn’t so much lucky as that I didn’t deserve any spankings anyway and that my brother didn’t deserve them either. Our older brother didn’t get them, so why should we? Sure, he hardly ever got into trouble. Bobby received more A’s on his report cards than Matt and I combined (even if counting our B’s, too). But our stepdad seemed to be picking on me more and more, though not nearly as much as Matt. But still, he criticized how I dressed, didn’t want me spending time with boys from school when I was 13 or 14 and would never fail to put me down in front of others, whether talking out a bad grade I had received or what he felt was my improper attire.
One time, at 13, I nearly got my first bare bottom spanking from my stepdad. It was at a family barbecue on the Fourth of July weekend. My shorts were pulled down and then my panties were yanked down inside-out far enough to expose my slit to his two teenage nephews. I’m sure that if the spanking commenced many other guests would have seen me fully bottomless with my legs flying about. But fate intervened sparing me from any additional humiliation.
Another time, when I was 15, I was nearly spanked in front of my younger brother, my younger male cousin and two boys in the neighborhood (one of whom I occasionally babysat). Once again, my pants found themselves down at my ankles. My panties were on their way to joining them but fate again intervened. But not before they were lowered enough to expose my mound and the wisps of my pubic hair and bringing giggles from the boys.
Then in the fall of 2001, I nearly got a humiliating spanking in front of both of my brothers. My older brother Bobby, two years my senior, hadn’t been present during my earlier ”near-misses” but he sure was one weekend morning to see me embarrassed.
Whenever my mom was out of town, my stepdad expected me to do much of the cooking. My brothers never failed to show their appreciation and would sometimes pinch in, if only to set the table or help clean up the dishes afterward.
But our stepdad? He always acted as if he was in a restaurant. And he’d never fail to find something to complain about. He’d bitch about the toast not being dark enough, the coffee too weak or not enough salt on the eggs. Something was always not perfect enough for him.
On that particular weekend while fixing breakfast for him and my brothers, I got so sick of his complaining I told him that if he didn’t like it that he should, “Fix breakfast yourself.”
It was a spontaneous outburst from me, instantly regrettable and certainly not wise, given that he was already angry at Matt who had received a spanking the day before. My quip got me a slap across the face.
When I answered back with a “What the fuck was that for?” without warning he grabbed and pulled me over his knee. He then grabbed the inside back of my panties and jeans and started yanking them down. Had he done so with me standing up I’d have been doomed.
When I quickly let out a stream of frantic, desperate “I’m sorry’s” he suddenly stopped with my jeans nearly halfway down off my butt.
I thought my pleas were being granted, but in reality it was because my jeans were so tight they couldn’t be pulled down off my butt without being unfastened.
I was ordered to stand up and my heart leapt to my throat as I knew what was coming next: he would unfasten my pants to get them down and my panties were sure to go down with them.
My older brother just watched, not saying a word. But Matt smirked at me as he was anticipating watching his older teenage sister not only get a spanking in front of him for the first time but to get it bottomless as well.
After I stood up, my stepdad reached around me and began unfastening my pants. I looked down to the floor in embarrassment rather than face my brothers who were sitting a half dozen or so feet away at the kitchen table.
With my pants unfastened, my stepdad then reached for my zipper and once it was unzipped all the way he began to pull my jeans down off my hips.
I pleaded again just long enough that fate once again saved my butt, literally. The phone rang. My stepdad got up off the chair and walked to the other side of the kitchen to grab the call.
As I stood there, dreading what would almost certainly happen in a few moments, my brother Bobby smirked at me and said, “Shaving it for the new boyfriend, Becky?” At the same time, my stepdad muttered something about the eggs.
I yelled out, “Shut up!”
Realizing that my mound was exposed to the top of my slit and that both my brothers could tell I was obviously “shaving it,” I then yanked my panties up the rest of the way so fast that my jeans slide down off my thighs to around my knees.
Having been preoccupied with his phone conversation, my stepdad turned around and glaring at me said, “What did you say?”
I said “nothing” which led him to think all the more I had back-talked to him. But Bobby quickly spoke up and said he was teasing me about my jeans falling down.
At that point our stepdad told us to all leave the room, the call was something about work and he didn’t want us making noise.
I was never really certain I wasn’t going to still get that spanking until the day ended without incident.
However, nine months later my luck would finally run out and both of my brothers would see my shame (along with everything else).
EMBARRASSED. SHAMED. DEGRADED. DEMEANED. DISGRACED. HUMILIATED. MORTIFIED.
That’s how I felt nine years ago as a 16-year old teenager from having my bare bottom spanked numerous times by my stepdad.
And that doesn’t even get into the other emotions it fed: anger, guilt, hate…
But from having it happen first in front of my younger brother and his 12-year old playmate (a boy I regularly babysat – making those feelings intensify greatly) to the spankings I got a week later on full display in front of not only my younger brother (who was present the whole time) but also in front of my older brother, his girlfriend and two friends of theirs from college who unexpectedly walked into the house during my punishment, my humiliation and shame complete, I also felt new emotions:
Resignation, helplessness and total submission.
As that evening’s spanking began, I was told from that now on, that is how I would be punished: bared from the waist down and spanked regardless of who was in the room – this time it was my younger brother again. And if I continued to reach back with my hands to block the swats, my stepdad would continue to unhook or simply remove my bra each time too (as he had last week and that night), essentially giving me a choice whether to suffer further shame or be compliant and accept my punishment.
As one vicious bare-hand slap after another that night rained down on my bare bottom, I cried and pleaded for mercy that still makes be ashamed to this day for not being stronger and more defiant.
With tears rolling down my cheeks I promised and acknowledged and agreed that I understood how I’d be spanked from that day on and that I knew I’d be spanked each weekend for the next month for my ”poor behavior” and ”disrespect.”
With each demanding question put to me I blubbered out barely coherent answers:
“Are you going to behave from now on?” – yes
“You promise?” – yes
“Are you going to start showing me respect?” – yes
“You promise?” – yes
“Are you going to start dressing properly?” – yes
“I didn’t hear you?” – yes
“You promise?” – yes
“Are you ever going to run out of the house again?” – no
“You promise?” – yes
“Are you going to stop talking back?” – yes
“You promise?” – yes
“And what will happen if you do, or if you don’t listen or behave?” – I get a spanking.
“What kind of spanking?” – a… a bare bottom spanking.
“And if you don’t behave while being spanked?” – my top gets removed.
“What about your bra?” – it gets removed too
“I didn’t understand you. What did you say?” – my bra gets removed too
“Are you going to behave from now on?” – yes
“You promise?” – yes
Resignation, helplessness and total submission indeed.
Regardless of the embarrassment, the stinging to my bottom was just too much and so I let my unhooked bra fall to the floor as I grabbed the lower part of the legs of the chair with my hands to help brace myself, my younger brother having already seen me essentially spanked twice this way before: naked. (As he had done before my stepdad had unhooked my bra that night, figuring that would keep my hands busy trying to hold it up against my breasts than reaching back attempting to block the swats.)
Between my stepdad’s commands, me crying, Matt watching and my mom in the shower upstairs, no one it seems heard the doorbell.
The first indication that others were behind me was upon hearing a guy’s voice exclaim, “Whoa! What the fuck?! Sweeeeeet!”
An unfamiliar female voice then began giggling.
Then I heard a familiar snort – it was coming from my older brother, Bobby.
And I quickly recognized his girlfriend (now wife) Kris’ voice from her, “Oh my God!”
My stepdad stopped only momentarily, before addressing Bobby: “This is what your sister gets for running around the neighborhood half-naked. Isn’t that right, Becky? Well? Answer me! Well?”
I blubbered out a barely coherent string of “yesses” and could only imagine what they all must of thought of my stepdad’s twisting of what had really happened that day.
Then I heard the other female say, “Come on, Cory. Let’s go and wait in the car for Kris.” (As I later found out, the four of them had double-dated and were dropping Bobby off at home; Bobby was starting college that fall.)
“I said, ‘Let’s go!” she said again, even as she giggled.
Then my mom came downstairs from her shower, yelling at my stepdad as the couple who were friends of my older brother and his girlfriend (now wife) made a hasty exit. I could hear the guy telling his girlfriend, “Did you see the way her tits were bouncing?”, both of them giggling as they closed the door on their way outside.
Embarrassed, shamed, degraded, demeaned, disgrace, humiliated, mortified indeed.
Then as I, in retrospect, made the poor decision to answer back to the way my stepdad “explained” to my older brother and his girlfriend why I was being punished, my bare bottom received several more slaps for my trouble – until my mom demanding that he stop and that I stand up.
When I did, I could do nothing but stand there, my bare bottom most certainly a bright cherry red and on fire as if stung by a hive of bees from that evening’s spanking and an earlier one late that afternoon. I could not help rubbing it while indifferent to my nakedness in front of my mom, my stepdad, my two brothers and my older brother’s girlfriend.
As I stood there, my parents arguing, my younger brother held up and dangled my bra in front of me, grinning. I snatched it from his hands before flinging it across the room in anger – my shame and humiliation already complete.
As my parents continued arguing, my older brother Bobby stared at me, a shocked expression on his face of both disbelief but also disapproval from what my stepdad was saying about my behavior that day.
My stepdad continued, “Who knows? Maybe she was flashing truckers on the way back home.”
I protested: “I did not. I had the towel wrapped around me and…”
But he cut me off and made fun of me saying, “Hear that? But she had a ‘TOWEL’ on! If that’s the way she wants to dress in public, then she has no right to complain about being spanked this way. She already knows that from now on, when she gets spanked it will be on her bare ass. Isn’t that right, Becky?”
I nodded, then mouthed a “yes” when ordered to speak up and answered “on my bare bottom” when questioned as to how I’d be spanked any time it was felt I needed a spanking.
My mom began arguing again, “I said that’s enough…”
I heard my dad saying something like ‘”That’s right. On her bare ass… don’t care what her brothers see…”
As my mom was saying, “I don’t want you spanking her anymore.”
Matt started to say something. Then my mom added, “And that goes for Matt, too.”
My stepdad countered and said something like, “Why? Because now that Miss Spoiled Tart here sheds a few tears? You never demanded I stop spanking him. Why should she be treated any differently? Maybe a sore ass and a little humiliation each week will finally teach her to behave.”
“Becky, should you be treated any differently than Matt? Is that fair?” he asked.
“No,” I replied.
“So if he gets spanked for misbehaving or talking back, how should you be spanked?”
“The same. On my bare bottom,” I answered, my head down in shame.
“When?” he asked.
“Every time I don’t listen,” I replied.
He continued arguing with my mom: “I’ve had it with her attitude, her disrespect and her dressing like a hooker. From now on, that’s the way it’s going to be until she goes off to college and I don’t give a fuck how embarrassed she says she is. If she’s embarrassed naked and bare-assed being spanked over her father’s lap, if she’s embarrassed with her brothers seeing her like that, then she can start behaving herself and watching her sassy mouth. Otherwise…”
At that point I just lost it. Not over my humiliation, my nakedness and the twisting of the truth as to what had happened that day. Not over the spanking.
With my hands on my hips, I turned to face him and yelled back, “You’re NOT my father. My father’s DEAD. Stop calling yourself that, you don’t know the meaning of the word, you son of a bitch! I HATE you! Do you hear me? I HATE YOU!”
There was quite a hush in the room and I just sort of stood there, then began trembling, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Kris, Bobby’s girlfriend, left the room for a moment and walked in the kitchen, returning with an apron for me to drape around myself. As she handed it to me it fell to the floor; I didn’t bother picking it up.
My mom said, “Becky, why don’t you go upstairs and put something on?”
My stepdad replied, “After that outburst? You’re going to let her get away and go unpunished for that? Apparently two spankings today weren’t enough.”
At that point, I outstretched both arms away from my and yelled back at my mom:
“Put something on? What for? You heard him. From now on, why should I bother wearing anything around the house since this is how I’m going to be spanked?”
I stood like that for at least ten seconds or so, everyone staring at me, until finally an incredible sense of shame came over me. I threw my hands across my boobs and pussy and went running off into the living and flung myself onto the couch. There I lay crying, burying my head into the pillows for I’m not sure how long. Then I felt Kris’ hands caressing my shoulders.
A robe in her hand, she whispered to me that my mom wanted me to spend the night at my best friend’s house, that hers and Bobby’s friends were still out front in their car all that time waiting to drive her home and that they’d drop me off, Kris having already called my girlfriend that I’d soon be coming over.
As I stood up, putting on the robe, my mom walked over. She hugged and kissed me and told me that everything was going to be alright. That she was sorry she didn’t act sooner. She handed me a small overnight bag that she had Kris hastily pack for me and walked out of the room, saying she’d see me in the morning. As Kris led me out the door, I didn’t look back into the dining room where I could hear my stepdad still arguing with her but in a much more subdued tone. My mom had told him she was filing for divorce.
There were still more spankings, more humiliation and more shame to come as the divorce progressed. Nor did it matter whoever may have been present as I was often reduced to a crying, naked, jiggling spectacle throughout most of that summer.
For years afterward, I was in denial. Whenever in conversation if asked had I ever been spanked by my parents, I’d deny it. Sure, I’d sometimes acknowledge that my younger brother was spanked while growing up. But not me. And certainly not as a teenager. And never, never, NEVER by my stepdad.
He hadn’t seen me naked since I was in diapers, I’d reply. Only my family and my closest friends knew the truth. Had guys at my high school knew, I would have never lived it down.
But the embarrassment, shame, degradation and humiliation was still there. It still is. Though I’ve finally come to terms that at least the shame isn’t mine. It’s his – for treating me like that.
But even though it has faded with time, the embarrassment and humiliation will always be there.
This was initially published on The Experience Project, July 21, 2011
“A teenage girl who behaves like a child should be dressed like a child.”
That’s what a reader wrote on my blog, making me blush as I read it, as I recalled an embarrassing weekend. Having your bottom bared for a spanking as a teenager was bad enough, but these parents felt that punishment needed something else to be even more effective.
“Teenage girls need an occasional session in which they’re reduced to the status of a little girl.”
That’s what one father, freebooter48, wrote on the Experience Project. Again, my face involuntarily blushed as past embarrassments flashed before my eyes. I protested, but it was freebooter48 who found agreement from others, not me.
“The principle that if you behave like a little girl you will be treated like a little girl should be upheld.” [- HighStandards]
Surely, I countered, that would at least not apply as part of the punishment given to a grad student in a hypothetical situation: (but which I left unsaid, as I was first too embarrassed to admit it, had actually been in REALITY for me) having helped her younger teenage cousin break curfew and then getting caught lying about it all while having previously agreed to being subject to her aunt’s house rules while staying there, which also included being spanked. One of the responses left a lump in my throat, a clear-cut independent confirmation that my aunt had indeed punished me justly.
“Her cousin acted immaturely for her age. [But] the grad student acted even more immaturely for her age, she should wear a t-shirt meant for a younger girl and little girl panties and nothing else. The panties should be small enough so everyone can see that she was spanked. If she violates the dress code, she would lose the panties. It doesn’t matter if there are guests around. She should have thought of that before lying. When she goes out, the t-shirt can be long enough to cover her panties part of the way.” [- powerman2000]
As I gasped and continued reading, he continued:
“And no bra. Bras are a privilege reserved for big girls.”
When I read that all I could think was how my aunt told me in front of my young male cousins, as I stood there bottomless in just my bra, before my spanking:
“If you want to behave like a little girl you will be treated like one. And do little girls have any need to wear a bra?”
As I meekly answered, “No”, she unclasped my bra and pulled it off to the giggles of the boys standing in front of me, adding:
“Maybe a little embarrassment will do you some good.”
My punishment went beyond just the bare bottom spankings, however. (Yes, I received a number of them while I stayed there – and yes, in full view of the boys.). And being made to dress like I was a little girl again was part of it.
(This was not to be the first time I had been punished like this. But at least the previous time happened when I was a teenager. This time I was in my twenties taking grad school classes, making it all the more mortifying!)
The morning after one spanking I woke up to find all the clothes (both outerwear and undies) I had brought with me gone.
All I had to wear was the thin nightie that I had be given to put on the preceding evening(immediately after another spanking) and that barely went below my navel, leaving nothing else to the imagination. It was with only that on with which I had to head downstairs for breakfast with the family, my bare bottom still aglow with redness from the previous evening’s spanking – a fact my younger male cousins were only happy to point out to each other.
During breakfast, my aunt explained that since I had behaved like a little girl, I would continued to be treated and punished like one during my entire extended stay there. That meant not only being subjected to continued disciplinary spankings, but also early bedtimes, supervised baths, no locking of the bathroom door at any time, not being allowed to dress or undress myself and being dressed as if I were still in early middle school!
That last part of the punishment meant I would specifically not be allowed to wear a bra, whether there at the house or anytime when out with my aunt, the only exception being for work (which was also the only time I’d be allowed to wear my “big girl clothes.”). This also meant no jeans, no thong panties and no attractive bathing suits (just one-pieces or frilly two-pieces designed for young girls). To emphasis how serious she was, my aunt announced she intended to take me shopping at the mall that day to pick out my “new” wardrobe for my time there.
My measurements are 34-24-35 and I wear a size XS (sometimes S depending on the manufacturer). I had no major difficulty fitting into juniors small size panties, although the coverage in the front and rear was lower than I liked. A girls’ size medium stretch cotton bikini panties also fit, once the leg bands were snipped to allow the cotton to rip a bit for more leg room.
T-shirts were too problematic and my aunt decided against a t-shirt and panties only rule for me. But a girls size camisole was less restrictive on the shoulders and arms, thus allowing me to wear a smaller size than even a t-shirt. Of course, embarrassingly, neither the front nor back came down far enough to cover even the top of my panties.
I was told that from that point on whenever I received a spanking during the day for disobedience, back-talk or “make-up” ones (for my past inappropriate behavior that my aunt discovered concerning me colluding with my cousin Mallory to get her brothers punished), the only thing I was permitted to wear around the house until bedtime was the small camisole and panties. It did not matter if guests happened to drop by. Disobeying (such as tying a sweater around my waist or wearing a robe) meant the panties came off for an immediate spanking followed by corner time – and the panties were to stay off for the rest of the day. It only took several instances when that happened for me to obey the camisole and panties only rule. Unfortunately, those instances happened when guests had dropped by – much to my consternation and much to their amusement.
The problem that the camisole would not be long enough to go out shopping at the mall was solved when while standing in the kitchen with two of my younger male cousins present, my aunt pulled off the nightie I was wearing, left the room (leaving me naked in front of my grinning cousins) and returned a few minutes later to hand me an old pair of my younger cousin Mallory’s panties. I put them on, but they were tight and only covered the lower half of my bottom while also leaving some of my bush showing in front. Next, my aunt handed me one of my other younger cousin’s Megan’s old sleep gowns that she wore in pre-teen years, an absolutely horrid, short tiny thing with animals prints all over it. Although it was a sleep gown, it could also marginally pass as a dress. I was then instructed to put on my socks and shoes at nothing else.
Without allowed to wear high heels or make-up and with my hair put into pig-tails, I was horrified! If it were legal, I’d have rather worn a string bikini to the mall. At least I would have looked my age! Instead I neither felt nor looked like it.
When I protested and used some inappropriate language to suggest what the sleep gown looked like, I soon found myself over my aunt’s knee, panties at my ankles, for a quick but solid spanking on my already sore bare bottom, much to the delight of my cousins. My vocal protests that I was soon to be seen in public dressed in nothing but my shoes, socks, small pair of panties and the sleep gown ended there.
Listening to the snickering behind me, especially when on the escalators at the mall, was humiliating. Not to mention the smirks from sales clerks who were freely invited into the changing cubicle as my aunt slipped the small gown I was forced to wear up over my head and off, leaving me topless in just the small pair of panties while having me try on various dresses in the juniors’ department.
The constant giggling from the two youngest boys who she brought along with us, including into the changing cubicle added to my embarrassment as they were only too happy to blurt out to the sales clerks that I had received a spanking that morning (as if it wasn’t obvious enough to them already with the small pair of panties I was forced to wear!).
At least a half dozen times my aunt even paraded me out in the open in front of the half circle of mirrors in the main area of the juniors’ department. A number of shoppers snickered at the sight of me with my panties clearly visible, being scolded as I hesitated to turn and let my aunt view the latest thing she had me try on. A few times, a quick lift of whatever dress she had me put on before a sharp slap or two to my butt quickly had me comply while I tried to avoid eye contact with a couple giggling shoppers.
At one juniors’ clothing store, she stood there holding the changing cubicle door wide open, since it was too crowded for the four of us to fit into. That other shoppers could get a peak at me didn’t concern her in the slightest. She even struck up a conversation with one woman who said she liked the short dress my aunt was having me try on.
The woman asked my aunt, “Where did you find that? I’d like to get one like that for my daughter. She starts junior high next year and is tall just like your girl.”
As the small talk continued, it became evident to me the woman thought that I was in junior high as well! I cringed in embarrassment knowing I certainly did not look my age.
At another store, the few cubicles there were occupied so after I was reluctant to do so myself, she simply and nonchalantly lifted up my gown up over my head and handed me a dress designed for a 12-year old to wear, leaving me standing there in nothing but my panties in front of a shocked but soon smirking store clerk. When I tried to hurriedly put on the dress over my head and pull it down to cover my exposed body, I was confounded by it being pinned together near the waist, resulting in complete topless exposure as I struggled with it over my head but not knowing why I couldn’t pull it down further.
Another store had a common changing area for girls (with a number of mothers, like my aunt, bringing in young boys). There she left me blushing and standing in nothing but my panties for five or ten minutes at a time as she went back out onto the sales floor to get something else for me to try on.
I know the purpose of the punishment was to treat me like a little girl until I showed my aunt I could again behave like the college grad should behave. But being spanked and punished like that also MADE ME FEEL like a little girl again. As people stared and smirked at me being scolded and talked to like a little girl, and being undressed in front of them without concern for my modesty and knowing that some of them saw that I had recently been spanked, I most certainly felt like I had regressed backwards in time 20 years.
So obviously, I can’t deny the effectiveness of the punishment freebooter 48 and the others suggested: that of reducing a teenager or even a college-aged woman to the status of a little girl as part of the discipline dished out. The initial bare bottom spankings are bad enough. But the additional humiliation is what really sinks in the shame.
Should a Teenage Girl or Female College Coed Who Misbehaves Like a Little Girl Be Spanked, Punished and Dressed Like a Little Girl Without Concern for Her Modesty?
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.
After hearing what happened to a 12-year old girl in Fridley, MN, I sure have no right to complain that I was diapered a number of times by my first-grade teacher. I had at least wet myself repeatedly in class, thereby providing a reasonable rationale for being diapered by her.
But this poor girl did nothing wrong. She was sent out to pick up trash throughout her neighborhood as a punishment by her mom and her loser boyfriend – wearing just a diaper.
Even more sadly than that fact is that among the 100 or more people who stood by watching (and probably laughing at her), only two of them acted like a human being, showing compassion. One young boy took pictures of the girl and then called police, showing the pics to them (thus evidence of the abuse). And one young woman got a baby blanket and did her best to help cover the exposed girl.
The mom was sentence to serve at least 90 days in jail before being eligible for parole. When they release her, they should send her out wearing nothing but a diaper and make her pick up trash like that for a year. (And it should go without saying the girl should be put in foster care.)
I originally published this on my blog at the Experience Project, December 4, 2012.
A few months ago, in March 2012, two 15-year old girls were forcibly stripped completely naked by their teachers Preeti Sharma and Reshma Simaiyain front of more than 40 male classmates.
They had been accused of cheating and the teachers claimed there were going to look for notes hidden on their person. When the girls refused to strip voluntarily, they were forcibly stripped completely naked on the spot. Their classmates laughed, hooted and snickered at them as the girls stood there nude. No scraps of paper were found and after being thoroughly humiliated, the girls had to still endure another three hours with their giggling, teasing classmates before being dismissed.
This is by no means an isolated incident. I’m totally appalled at how accepted the humiliation of school girls seems to be throughout India. Child abuse and abuse of authority happens everywhere – and we here in the United States aren’t immune from it. But in most western democracies the populace is outraged by it.
Last year at school in Orissa, a 8th grade girl was stripped naked in front of 25 classmates because her teacher falsely accused her of stealing money. The girl later committed suicide because of the trauma she suffered.
A teacher at a school in Faridabad paraded a school girl around topless in front of all her schoolmates because her parents forgot to pay a fee.
A schoolgirl in Vijayawada was forced to expose her breasts to all her classmates for not speaking English.
A few years ago, a school girl in New Delhi school was stripped naked by her teacher, ordered to stand on her desk totally exposed and her classmates were urged to make fun of her. Why? Because she didn’t complete all her homework.
In first grade twenty years ago, I suffered a number of embarrassing moments. I had peed myself several times in class and as a result my teacher put me in diapers during recess or lunch period. This went on every day for over two weeks and then occasionally after that. On some occasions students, including several boys, returning to the classroom early saw me partially or fully undressed and then diapered. They were not told to leave the room and therefore got a good look at everything. And I do mean everything.
OK. So, it wasn’t the end of the world and I got over it, learning to live with the teasing.
But years later, as an older student, if I had to take off all of my clothes in front of my classmates each occasional time I did poorly on a test, homework paper or in-class assignment, I might as well simply have gone to school completely naked each day every year after that. There would have been no point in trying to maintain any modesty.
That’s how I later felt in high school when nude pics of me and two close girlfriends were circulated. Those two 15-year old girls probably feel that way now. After all, forty boys saw them standing there totally naked and exposed. They feel ashamed. They feel humiliated. They feel mortified every time they are around those who witnessed or even heard of their degrading treatment. They are now “branded” and they can’t make the boys un-see what they’ve seen. But at least here in the U.S. what happened to my friends and I was considered unacceptable.
Unfortunately, those two teenage girls in India probably aren’t going to have a whole lot of community support. I pray that they have the courage to deal with it.
When are Indians as a whole going to demand an end to the humiliating, degrading strippings of school girls? There are hundreds of millions of decent people in India. When are they going to use their collective power and stop the rampant abuse of children and severely punish the abusers?
I originally published this on my blog at the Experience Project, June 17, 2012.
I Was Caught Completely Naked Having Sex on a High School Campus
Although I’ve been caught in various stages of undress to my chagrin and embarrassment more than once, I was caught once not only naked but having sex.
This happened back in my sophomore year in high school (Spring 2002). My then-boyfriend had driven me to watch a basketball game at his cousin’s high school. We got there late and he decided to park in a secluded part of the parking lot; no other cars were near us. We were soon in the backseat of the car doing it. Of course as we started making out, we began to lose clothes which were soon scattered all over the car. When my panties were eventually found by my boyfriend’s dad (more about that later) they were tangled up and hanging on the rear view mirror.
We were both naked, me on top of him with him inside me and then we hear this loud tapping of a flashlight on the back window and almost at the same time, the click of the back door as it is swung wide open, the overhead light turning on automatically. Standing there starring right at me is that high school’s security guard, a middle-age guy with a moustache and a beer belly. He bellows out, ”just what the fuck do you two think you are doing?” and then he orders us to exit the car immediately, putting out his hand towards mine.
As my boyfriend and I unhook, the guard takes my hand as I stumble across my boyfriend and out of the car. Although the parking lot wasn’t well lit, the guard had driven over to us in one of the golf-cart sized thingies and my eyes hadn’t adjusted to the bright light. So I’m standing there trying to both shield MY eyes from the lights and HIS eyes from my naked body – ultimately doing neither very effectively. When my boyfriend exits the car from the other side and walks around to where the guard and I am standing, I see that he had put his boxers on, which ticked me off since I was still naked. It’s also in the low 40s so I’m shivering and my nipples are as hard as could be.
The guard closed the car door and starts into a several minute lecture about morals and public indecency and how he is going to call our parents and maybe the police and starts asking us for our names, etc. Then he wants to see our school IDs. When I told him we go to a different high school, he responds by saying that he wants our IDs then and he’ll turn them in to our own principal. I protest, knowing the embarrassment that will cause but he insists, so I open the car door to grab my purse. It’s on the floor besides the front passenger seat so I bend and reach over to get it then hear the security guard snickering from behind me. He then asks me to grab my boyfriend’s wallet, which I pulled out of his pants pocket. As I hurried grabbed my purse and tried to back out of the car again, my purse straps got tangled on the door lock. I pulled out my ID from my purse and then tossed it onto the car seat. I wanted to grab my skirt or top, but couldn’t immediately see them (they were both on the floor in the back seat).
As I hand the guard my ID and my boyfriend’s wallet, he motioned me to stand by the back of the car with my boyfriend and he slammed the front door shut again. He’s looking over our IDs, making us confirm our names, our ages, where we live and go to school and how he will have our ID’s sent to our high school and that our parents will have to be called. I then started to cry and basically began begging him to just let us go, that we promise not to be caught again, etc. My boyfriend pathetically tries to take all the blame saying it was all his fault, to which the guard replied, “Well, she seemed to be enjoying it pretty good,” which just made me blush all the more.
Then he starts saying, “Well, I don’t know…” and that he really needs to follow procedure and such and such. Then we realize the basketball game is now over and people are starting to exit the building. Not only that, but the parking lot around my boyfriend’s car isn’t so empty anymore either, as a few other cars are parked nearby that weren’t there when we got there. Meanwhile, I’m pleading, saying that people are walking towards us and I want to get dressed. I turned around to open the car door to grab my clothes, when the guard offers a compromise. He won’t inform our high school or our parents if we agree that after we get dressed, we’ll help clean up the gymnasium of any trash. I was almost like, are you kidding; I’ll clean it up for a week.
I then go to open the car door to quickly get dressed – but it’s locked. My heart began pounding as I raced around the car trying the other doors, but – horrors – they were all locked. I was panicking and several students were now close enough to see us. One girl grinned, muttering “slut”, as she and her boyfriend starred as us as I cringed and tried to cover myself with my arms and hands. Then several more students walked by, two guys and their girlfriends stopping for a more prolonged viewing.
On the verge of hysteria, I started to scream to the guard and then quickly grabbed his flashlight to try to break the car windows and open the door, which got my boyfriend upset. As my boyfriend is standing in front of me trying to stop me from smashing the car windows, we’re struggling and the guard, trying to pull me away afraid that I’ll hit my boyfriend with the flashlight, reaches around me with his hands over my boobs and pulls me backwards and away from my boyfriend as a few more people walked by, gawking. The guard then yells at me to calm down, that he just thought of something and finally releases me. He then opens up a compartment in the back of the golf cart and pulls out two rain slickers. These aren’t the long ones, in fact only go to the waist. But at least it was something and I quickly put on one, as well as my boyfriend. By this time we are too mad to even look at each other.
But given the twist of circumstances, the guard now insists that we be taken to the school office, since we’ll now need to call a locksmith to get the car open. There’s barely enough room for me to sit down on the seat next to the guard, my hands covering my exposed pussy. My boyfriend sat on the back behind the seat, holding on.
As the guard drove us to the high school office, we continue to get some stares from people leaving the gym, but not too many since he drives off mostly in a different direction than the crowd. He radioed to the assistant principal who was there for the game and she meets us at the office. Of course, once we got there and I have to stand up and get off the cart, I can only cover myself down below so much, electing to cover my pubes with my hands and basically leaving the lower part of my buttocks fully exposed to anyone behind me. And there were people behind me, various students and teachers, as we walk into the main building and to the assistant principal’s office.
Of course, now SHE is told of what we were doing and how several students arrived late at the game in the car, parked near us and saw us naked and having sex through my boyfriend’s car window and then informed the guard who then confronted us. The woman is aghast and not at all sympathetic to our latest predicament (that being our clothes locked in the car). The security guard then left and we got another lecture from the assistant principal – focused mostly at me – on the dangers of unsafe sex and promiscuity. She calls me a few derogatory names because of my actions and begins threatening to call the police. I’m begging her not to, etc. Finally, she insists on calling each of our parents since we’re underage and calls a female student walking by in the hall to come into the office. The girl is standing there as the woman goes over our names, addresses and school and then picks up the phone and then relates to my boyfriend’s parents and then in to my mom in a separate call about what we were caught doing, etc. The woman then tells the girl to see if she can find me a towel or some old gym clothes.
My boyfriend’s parents arrived quickly, causing me more embarrassment, since I’m standing through all this and don’t see them walk into the office behind me with the lower portion of my butt completely exposed. Not that it would matter much. Because when the female student returned with a towel, the assistant principal told me to take the rain slicker off and wrap myself in the towel, which I was reluctant to do until the assistant principal shamed me into doing so by saying “Don’t pretend you’re shy now, Ms. Romero. Not after the free sex-ed class you put on in the school parking lot.”
While I’m taking off the rain slicker and wrapping myself in the towel, she told me that it’s a good thing for me that paddling is outlawed in public high schools in our state or she’d paddle me right then and there on my bare butt in front of my boyfriend’s parents.
After several more minutes of my boyfriend and I being scolded, his parents then left with my boyfriend (and his car, having brought an extra set of keys) before my mom arrived to get me. The girl then left, grinning at me, as I began to get another lecture just as my mom arrived.
My mom was quite angry at me, but tried to contain it. But given that I’m only in a towel, I’m grateful she didn’t come with my stepdad or my two brothers. Of course, I got a stern lecture from her on the way home. Since my mom knew how furious my stepdad would be if he found out what had happened and I would have otherwise been walking into the house wearing just a towel, on the way home she stopped at a Walmart and ran inside to buy a pair shoes, shorts and a sweater for me.
Although I was also grateful that assistant principal didn’t report my boyfriend or I to our high school, news spread to our high school nonetheless, either from someone who had recognized us or perhaps from the girl who the assistant principal sent to find the towel and who overheard everything, including my full name and school.
I grant unconditional permission, without relinquishing copyright, to anyone wishing to republish the text of the article above (either in print or online), but only if attribution is credited to me and the article is republished unedited and in its entirety. Please also use the entire Creative Commons copyright notice below (including the hyperlinks) if you republish it on the Internet. Use the biographical information about me if republished in print.
"Girl Caught Naked Having Sex at School" by Becky Romero is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://beckyromero.net/copyright.html. Ms. Romero, a native of Chicago, turned 24 in the fall of 2009 while attending college in the Midwest. © 2010 by Becky Romero.
Originally published on June 19, 2010 at the Experience Project
The following are comments readers at the Experience Project then posted, as well as my replies.
I think there was a lot of wrong doing on the part of the security guard….from your story it seems he violated you by pulling you out of the car naked and forcing you to remain that way. The FIRST thing he should have done was had you both get dressed, and then have you get out of the car.
– IndyJoe, June 19, 2010
Hi, IndyJoe. ‘Violated’ seems like such a harsh word. Clearly, in my mind, I thought I was expected to immediately exit the car, and he wasn’t so much pulling me as helping me maintain my balance getting out while crawling across the back seat over top of my boyfriend. Thinking back, I guess I could have insisted on reaching back in for my clothes and I don’t think he would have stopped me. I guess I was just too shocked, embarrassed and scared to do anything else. Then, locking the car door, whether it was like that or me accidentally hitting the lock button with my purse, I don’t know. but it happened. Otherwise, he was basically letting us off in exchange for promising to help to clean up the gym later (which we never ended up doing because of the locked-car situation and our state of undress). I like to think that perhaps it was his intention all along to just teach us a lesson by making us feel embarrassed for a few minutes and then letting us go. Clearly, if given the choice, I’d have rather stood there naked and listened to a brief lecture than him calling the police, school officials or our parents. Thank goodness he remembered he had those rain slickers otherwise the evening would have wound up far more humiliating. Though what did happen was embarrassing, I don’t blame the security guard. I blame myself. What my boyfriend and I did was impulsive but quite reckless. We could have gotten in a lot more trouble than we did.
– Becky Romero, June 19, 2010
It is funny but on the rare occasion I have caught a women out naked they always cover their pubes leaving their breasts exposed. Yet all you can see down below in most cases is a bit of hair. More to see upstairs yet they leave the viewing pleasure exposed.
– k1nudey, June 19, 2010
Wow that is a major “I was caught story” It am sure it was totally embarrassing. I am curious, an incident like that can make a person become extremely cautious or reckless. Did you become more self conscience and dress extremely conservatively, or did you become more daring, almost tempted to be naked in public again?
-nudydude, June 20, 2010
Hi, NudyDude. No, the incident didn’t make me dress more conservatively. But that’s not to say I ever dressed ‘trashy.’ I continued wearing my short skirts, tight jeans, low cut tops, depending on the weather. But these were nice clothes, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t dressing like a hooker, although I’m sure some guys think anything that shows any cleavage at all or part of a thigh is such. Besides, it wasn’t what I was wearing when we got caught that was the problem, but that I wasn’t wearing anything! OK, sure, once in a great while I’d go commando under a skirt and I’ve skinny-dipped with my girlfriends. I also got the sexual harassment treatment in high school and wound up being totally humiliated in my senior year. There were some family issues going on as well, with my mom divorcing my stepdad. But that’s all in the past now. But what I do really regret from those high school days is how reckless I was with guys – even after that incident (though I was much more careful when making out with a guy so as not to get caught like that ever again). I could have gotten pregnant, got a disease, etc. Fortunately, I was lucky and had some great friends that stood by me during some trying times. My best friend tried to warn me but I was too infatuated with those various guys at the time to see it. And because I allowed myself to be used by those jerks, I paid for it with the embarrassment and humiliation at school.
– Becky Romero, June 19, 2010
Great story! I’m sure it was very embarrassing for you more than your boyfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t reach in the car to get something for you to cover yourself with. How much longer did you date him?
– hammerhead1949, June 20, 2010
Hi, Hammerhead. I have to say I was lucky. It could have been far more embarrassing. I was totally reckless; I had broken up with a previous boyfriend about two months earlier and wanted this guy so bad and of course he was anxious to have me too. Worrying about getting caught wasn’t even on our minds cuz we started going at it so fast and didn’t think anyone would see us given where he had parked. But after wards, once the rumors started around our own high school that we had been caught naked while having sex, he acted like a total jerk even telling his friends how he was coming in me when the security guard opened the car door. So basically I was known as a s–t for the rest of my time in high school. Of course I dumped him soon after that. But I don’t blame him for us being caught. I accept responsibility for that. It was as much my fault as his and I was stripping off my clothes just as fast as he was. I was just so ticked at my previous ex that I was anxious to hook up with another guy to make me forget about the last one. I suppose I learned the wrong lessons from that incident, being more cautious about WHERE I’d have sex with guys as opposed to being more cautious about having sex with them, PERIOD. Maybe that was because we’d escaped what could have been a far more embarrassing evening. The security guard could have been a real jerk, more people might have seen us standing there and that school’s assistant principal could have called the police.
– Becky Romero, June 20, 2010
Hi Becky…this sounds like something that happened to me and my girlfriend at the time. Except it wasn’t a security guard – it was an actual police officer! Her dad was head of security for the local Federal building and the cop knew my girlfriend. He just gave us a friendly warning and told me to take my girl straight home. The cop never said anything to her dad, as far as I know. Her dad never said anything to me!
– NuUne, June 20, 2010
Hi, NuUne. That had to have been embarrassing for your girlfriend! I’m sure I’d have gotten in a lot more trouble at school and at home had the assistant principal called the police. I didn’t go to her school, nor did my boyfriend, so she sure didn’t owe me any special consideration. My mom was much more angry at me for having unprotected sex than getting caught naked.
– Becky Romero, June 22, 2010
Becky, thanks for your answer. Glad you were able to get past your high school days without any major problems. Sorry that you did go through what you did but it is good you had friends help you out. I am sorry about my question not being clear. I did not mean did you dress trashy. I was curious of the effect of being caught naked had on you. You did answered that question. I was streaking when I was a teenager and my folks found out. They were not happy, of course. I guess I found that the reactions of the people who saw me had a different effect, may because I am a guy. I ended up like being seen naked. I guess what I was trying to ask is if you feel you started being an exhibitionist because of it. Bare Hugs. Nudy
– nudydude, June 22, 2010
What an awesome story Becky! I really feel for you after all that you went through that night, but it did make incredibly good reading in the end. Play safe
– sweepster, June 22, 2010
Becky, when someone calls a girl a slut. A girl who’s having unprotected sex with multiple guys is usually what he or she means, not a girl who’s literally charging money. Sounds like this description fits you pretty well (or at least used to). So no guys issues for you, right? May I ask if “wearing your short skirts, tight jeans, low cut tops” and “sure, once in a great while going commando under a skirt” had anything to do with having your “nude pics passed around your high school in your senior year when you were 18”?
– PrimeSpanker, June 22, 2010
Hi, NudyDude. Sorry, that was my fault for not understanding your question. I get it now. I had been embarrassed and exposed before (though not caught while having intercourse!), so I don’t think that incident when I was 16 effected me in the way you asked about. I was embarrassed and certainly felt a sense of shame standing there party exposed while being berated by that assistant principal. I think what happened at my high school my senior year was a little different though since the humiliation was far worse. I wouldn’t say it caused me to be an exhibitionist but perhaps made be feel less shameful when caught in embarrassing situations. Also caused me to do a few stupid things to, like letting a couple strangers see me naked – my way I guess of saying to the jerks who humiliated me that it’s MY decision if and when I want to be seen naked, and not the jerks’ deciding. After that, I guess you could say I got over most embarrassing situations much easier and without anger, even in situation when pranked or by accident. For example, in my early teens I would have been mortified had my girlfriends set me up for a birthday spanking in the nude by a male classmate. When they did it when I was 20, I was embarrassed to be sure when dragged me over the lap of a friend and former high school classmate while his twin brother stood by laughing too, but I tried to be a good sport about it. Same with going to a nude beach on vacation with my three girlfriends/roommates a few years ago. The first day or two, I wore a c-string, then even let that go. Not that I was flaunting it in any sort of way. We found a secluded spot to sunbathe. And while I had my blushing moments about it, I didn’t feel ashamed about it, except when some jerk tried to take pics of us.
– Becky Romero, June 22, 2010
Yes Becky that boy was a total jerk. My wife and I almost got caught naked one time and the first thing I did was help her get covered before I worried about myself.
– hammerhead1949, June 22, 2010
How did you get the sexual harassment treatment in high school? Your story-telling style is great. Can you add more experiences from your colorful life?
– edibookie, July 16, 2010
I think the only one wrong here is your boyfriend for not caring about you being naked in front of firstly the guard and secondly the students, if i had this experience happen to me i would have let my girlfriend break my car’s window to get her clothes, or even let here get dressed before getting out of the car to the guard instead of leaving her totally exposed and humiliated, after all she is MY girlfriend!
– Abedoo, Sep 1, 2010
Wow, I can’t imagine the horor. But I wish I had been the security gaurd. Although I would have not let it get that far out of hand.
– wnt2busd, July 30, 2010
Hi, dragonofjapan, I really don’t think the guard violated my civil rights. I had no right to be totally naked in a parked car in a public place having sex. Plus, it was embarrassing enough dealing with just the rumors eventually spreading to my high school, let alone me trying to put the blame for the cause of my shame onto others. And I sure as hell didn’t want my stepdad to find out about it. My mom kept it a secret from him. Given how he had humiliated me in front of my brothers four years earlier when I was caught by a teacher at school flashing my panties, I have no doubt I would have gotten a beating had he come to that school to pick me up instead of my mom.
– Becky Romero, Oct. 14, 2010
Actually he should have let you dressed and if the matter was pushed the school would have been in serious trouble, whether or not you were at fault. However it is in the past and has help make you the person your are today. Bare Hugs. Nudy
– nudydude, Oct. 14, 2010
I’ve been caught before but wow! Can’t say I ever suffered through the embarrassment and humiliation that you went through. The things we do for love in high-school. So funny. Personally I think the security guard was a bit out of line. Seeing how you weren’t in any danger he should have let you get dressed. I have to admit even though I’m okay being naked in front of some people I doubt that I’m brave enough to try it in a high-school parking lot full of other people. You would get a nudist medal of honor for this one for sure.
– mugface, Nov. 18, 2010
Hi, Mugface, It just all happened so fast. Getting caught naked was the farthest thing from my mind when my boyfriend and I started making love. That part of the parking was deserted and no one was around, or so we thought. Bravery had nothing to do with it. Though I was totally ashamed of myself, I was thankful the guard was intending to let us go before anyone else saw us. He saw how embarrassed we were and probably figured the embarrassment was a good lesson in itself. But then once we he saw the car door was accidentally locked (with all my clothes inside) and people started come out of the gym and I tried to break the car window in desperation, quickly taking us to the principal’s office was obvious the appropriate thing to do.
– Becky Romero, Nov. 19, 2010
WOW! Thats one heck of an embarrassing story!! One part that I think I would have found extra embarrassing, that other people haven’t mentioned yet, is the part when you were standing in the office. I would have hated to have my boyfriend’s parents come in and see my bare butt. My ex boyfriend’s dad was kinda creepy and once I was wearing a really skimpy bikini around his backyard pool. A girlfriend of mine gave me a wedgie just as my boyfriend’s dad came outside to start the grill. He got an eyefull of my bare butt cheeks and I was extremely embarrassed! Did your boyfriend’s parents say anything to you? Did you ever have to face them…*cringe* that would be embarrassing! Did your boyfriend’s dad see you naked on any other occasions?
– bit123, Nov. 26, 2010
Hi, bit123, Yes, I was quite embarrassed once I realized my boyfriend’s parents were standing behind me. They didn’t so much as address me as they did their son, mostly the mother doing the talking admonishing him. His dad had a grin on his face though the only time I looked up and glanced back. By that time, I was too ashamed to look them in the face and preferred to face the vice principal, with my hands down front covering my exposed pussy as well as when I took off the rain slicker. I broke up with my boyfriend not long after that after he bragged about ‘scoring’ on me so I never saw his parents again. I always wondered if the female student the v.p. had sent to look for some gym clothes for me purposely didn’t find any and returned only with the towel, which didn’t cover everything either. Of course, I also had to take off the rain slicker and wrap myself in the towel as best I could, so I was briefly nude in front of both of them too, as well as the student who brought in the towel. Then my mom arrived. She didn’t know about my clothes being locked in the car and my boyfriend had just left with them still in his car. She had parked near the gym, not the school offices, not knowing where to park anyway. So when we were ready to leave, I would have had to walk back to her car with only a towel on that didn’t fully cover me. So instead, she said she’d get the car and drive over near the office. Naturally, while I stood there waiting several minutes, the girl had returned with three friends to gawk, one of whom said, ‘Hey, you can’t leave with that. That’s our school property,’ as she yanked the towel loose and down to the ground. Another one grabbed and squeezed my butt when I bent down to pick up the towel and the third pulled it away from my boobs when I wrapped it around myself again. Fortunately, the v.p. walked out of her office to leave just at that time and told them to leave me alone. Then I saw my mom’s car pull around the corner of the building and I ran over to it and got in.
– Becky Romero, Dec. 11, 2010
You seem to have the worst luck with nudity in school. I guess once it starts to happen, it kind of snowballs. It is good you can look upon this as learning experiences. Too bad so many people have hang ups about nudity. Otherwise, we could all walk naked and free. Weather permitting of course. Bare Hugs. Nudy
– nudydude, Dec. 12, 2010
Hi, NudyDude, Oh, it could have been worse. At least I waited by the office and I didn’t walk back with my mom to her car. Otherwise I might have ended up caught in front of the visiting school’s boys basketball team, which by then had taken their showers and were getting on their school bus.
– Becky Romero, Dec. 12, 2010
Yes that would have been another adventure, altogether. Bare Hugs. Nudy
– nudydude, Dec. 13, 2010
A truly remarkable story, and you’re very philosophical about it. You sound quite mature for an impulsive person, but hormones and youth can be that way. Thanks for sharing the story.
– GirlieSpirit, Aug. 9, 2010
wow, talk about embarrassing. I’ve caught many people having sex in cars but i’d rather just watch them and enjoy the show than turn them in, but then again, i am a voyeur!
– footfetish11, Oct. 13, 2011
I got caught twice having sex with my girlfriend, once by my parents and once by hers. Not a huge issue was made of it, We both got the protection speech from all parents more than once. Never got caught in the car, and were only minutes form getting caught having sex on the wing of my dads airplane.
– oldjack5, Nov. 28, 2011
Poor thing, the pervert of a guard had no right to humiliate you that way.
– BareBelly, Oct. 27, 2012
About the only (small) bright spot in that story is that you had not just been spanked in the last day or so. A welted rear end would have been even worse in view of you not being able to cover it.
– nickir, Nov. 12, 2012
Nope. Can’t see why you might have gotten spanked for misbehaving
– BrianFord, Dec. 4, 2012
Your security guard is a fat fart who couldn’t resist the opportunity…. and who can blame him? You must have looked gorgeous… Damn my hard-on!
– Ming102102, Dec. 4, 2012