Frank Cho Brandy by ravencolors on DeviantArt

Oh, don’t I know this feeling!

Once my stepdad starting spanking me on my bare bottom when I was a teenager in front of family and guests, privacy was no longer something I was entitled to. That meant if my younger brother was instructed to see if I was ready to go somewhere – whoosh! The door would open without warning. Sometimes right along with his friends or our younger male cousins.

And too often my swearing and slamming the door in his face would merely lead to me being fully undressed as soon as I got downstairs for a humiliating spanking over my stepdad’s lap.

Teenage Girl Ordered to Strip at School by Male Adult

Female Teacher Strips Boy in Front of His Classmates



10-year-old Santiago Nolasco was allegedly stripped by Rock Creek Elementary teacher Claudia Wilson, while both boys and girls in his class looked on.

“I was nervous and embarrassed,” Nolasco said. “Some of the kids were laughing.”

Teenage Girl Spanked Bare-Assed in Front of Stepdad’s Family

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.”

Brothers Watch Teenage Sister’s Pants Pulled Down by Stepdad

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).

Strippers ‘Slut Shamed’ by Police, Forced to Pose for Nude Pics

Teenage Girl Punished Dressed Like Child

“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?

Teacher Forces School Girl to Remain Topless in Front of Classmates

Young Boys Watch Teenage Girl Stripped Down for Spanking

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.