Lillian’s Test

A woman lets someone stand in for her, but it doesn’t all work out.

By Lorna Brand

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be someone else for the day? Well I don’t have to! I’ve been trading places with my big sister Bella ever since we were small. She is just under a year older than me, but to look at us you would think we were twins. We had loads of fun growing up, tricking teachers and friends. Mum even cut my hair once to make us look different. She was called in to the school because I had been taking Bella’s Modern Studies class and she was taking my French. Mum said that it was the last straw. We almost made it to the end of the year. If I hadn’t been off with chicken pox we would never have been discovered. We didn’t look different for long, though, because I ended up cutting my sisters hair to match mine. We got into so much trouble my bum still tingles at the thought of it.


You would have thought that at twenty-four I would have grown out of pretending, but it is handy having a double ganger sometimes. Bella and I still enjoy being able to be someone else for a day, and if I need a day off work or she needs a stand in for something, we have that luxury. Although we look alike we don’t have the same interests or talents. Which, I suppose, is really why we swapped classes and things to start with. We could both do well at school without having to do the rubbish we were no good at.

Unfortunately not everyone is fooled all the time and my wonderful fiancé is one of them. I should be pleased that he can tell the difference between us. After all, I would hate to think of him looking at her the way he looks at me with those big brown, lustful eyes. However, on this occasion I really wish he had got us mixed up.

It was the day I was supposed to take my driving test. I had been putting it off for years because I am not particularly coordinated and I panic at tests but Mike bought me lessons for my birthday so I couldn’t put it off forever. It wasn’t that I couldn’t drive, but I thought I would choke at the test so I asked my sister for a hand. Bella passed her test years ago, first time, so I knew she would do fantastically.

I think Mike was probably tipped off that morning that something was going on. In hindsight, I was too calm, not my normal crazy self. We had breakfast together; he had made me my favourite pancakes and he quizzed me on traffic signs. It was quite sweet really. Before Mike went to work he ran me a bath so I could relax and wished me luck for the afternoon. That morning was great. I enjoyed my bath and decided that a new dress was in order for my celebration dinner that Mike had organised for the two of us. He was so proud of me. I knew that Bella wouldn’t let me down; she had a copy of my passport and the time of the test. What could go wrong? Well, as it happens, Mike could!

I found the perfect midnight blue crushed velvet dress. A little shorter than I would normally go for, but I felt amazing in it and I was sure Mike would get something out of it too, if you know what I mean. I had time to go to the hairdressers and to get ready. I thought I had at least an hour or two before Mike came home. Boy, was I wrong?

The front door flung open, hitting off the hall table, and Mike started shouting: “Lillian,” at the top of his voice.

I kind of knew then I had been caught, but I did my best to delay the inevitable. I called out to let him know I was in the kitchen, trying to sound upbeat and as nonchalant as I could. He stormed through as mad as hell.

I did my best: “Hi love, want a cupa?”

But Mike wasn’t falling for it. He chucked his jacket down on the closest chair and undid his tie so he could loosen the top button on his shirt. He was flushed and full of anger. I had never seen him so mad before. I thought that a distraction might be in order and gave him a twirl to show off just how well my new dress fitted, and if I may say so myself my legs looked great, thanks to my little stiletto heels.

Instead of the ‘Ooh’ and ‘Ahh’ that I wanted, Mike became very quiet. It was the start of the storm. He stayed silent as he calmly folded a tea towel that had been left in the middle of the kitchen table. I instantly had a flashback to my Mother doing that thing she used to do. That thing with the rag in the sink. She would ring it in her hands as she lectured us, building up to the moment that we hated. The moment that we would have our sentence handed down to us. If we had stepped completely out of line, in my mother’s eyes. That would ultimately end up with us bent over the kitchen table while she took her frustration out on our butts. Normally with a wooden spatula. I never saw her bake with it, I am sure she bought it just for us.

My stomach churned and my heart raced. Dread washed over me and I felt the colour drain from my face. I could see Mike was looking for the right words. His eyes still flamed as he calmly asked how my driving test went.

I could feel a lump in my throat as I told him: “It went great.”

He pondered for a second more, still choosing his words carefully before asking: “If it went so well why are you home so early?”

I was already in a hole but I couldn’t help myself so I said: “They changed the time of my test.”

Mike then came closer to me, took my hand in his and stared into my eyes, making me feel so small. “There you go making up lies again.”

I felt as if my stomach had just dropped right out of me. If my mother taught me anything, the more calm she was the more dangerous the situation. I would be over the moon if she screamed and shouted. The calm lectures could reduce me to shaking and tears much quicker.

I still wasn’t ready to give up, so just said: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mike brought his face close to mine and told me: “I took the afternoon off to surprise you, to support you.”

I have never felt so bad. He had gone to the driving centre to see me, but I wasn’t there. Bella was.

“Oh, that was nice!” Was all I could think of. “I must have missed you then.”

I knew that I shouldn’t have tried to get out of it. I was just making it worse.

Mike dropped my hand immediately and took a step back. He told me that he had turned up with a good luck present for me, only to bump into my sister.

“Bella said that she would call you once she was done. It should be any time now, I would imagine.”

I started to plead my case, saying: “It’s just a little test. You know how nervous I get. I wouldn’t have passed, and then your money would have been wasted.”

Mike cut me off before I could finish, though. He was fuming. “You are seriously saying you did this for me?” He snapped.

As I am sure you have guessed, I am a bit stubborn and don’t always know what’s good for me. Which is how I decided that I should just jump straight into making my new purchase work for me and offer up an apology. Well, a distraction but disguised as an apology. As it turns out, that didn’t go to plan.

I kissed the nape of Mike’s neck and whispered something really stupid in his ear. I said that: “I have been a very bad girl who needs to be spanked.”

At the time, I was referring to a toy Mike had bought. It was a little leather paddle with the word ‘bitch’ cut out of the middle. It was meant to leave the word stamped on my butt. Just a playful joke. It was fun when we played with it and I got quite a tingle from the little slaps. I know Mike loved me squirming too, but this time he was really upset and not in the mood for my cheeky banter. He didn’t respond to my seduction in the way I expected.

He pushed me away firmly, holding me at arms length, and said: “Yes, you do!”

Mike moved the chair away from the end of the table. I was panicking in disbelief. He wanted to actually spank me properly. I wanted to show him I was sorry and at that point I actually was. He didn’t even have to ask me, I automatically draped myself over the table and gripped the edges.

Although my new dress was tightly stretched over my raised ass, Mike lifted it up to my hips. A shiver passed over my skin as he took his hands and slid them up the side of my legs to the waist band of my thong. Slipping his thumbs in the elastic, he took them all the way down to the floor and waited for me to lift my feet one at a time so that I could be completely free from them. I didn’t have any covering.

I could feel my hands getting sticky and my legs starting to quake. A mixture of fear, shame and exhilaration filled my body as I lay exposed. Waiting as Mike took in the view before him. His first slap was sharp, but more playful than I expected. His hands were warm and soft as he rubbed my derriere briefly. The slaps that followed were no harder, but he covered my bum expertly, giving it a very nice glow. I was starting to enjoy it more than I should, especially when he tentatively stroked my sore bum to feel the heat.

Mike didn’t hit me very hard but, because he was covering the same area systematically and without a break, the warm, tingly glow turned into a burning throb that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much stroking Mike gave me. I was soon squirming, stamping my feet and sobbing. Any dignity I thought I had by taking my punishment so well went out of the window, but my stubborn streak kept me pinned to the table until he had deemed that I was truly sorry.

I was more aware of my bum than I have been before as my dress was stretched tighter than ever over my very bruised and swollen behind. The warm, comforting glow did come back to me, but it wasn’t until dinner that night that the harsh stinging subsided. I squirmed through the meal, making Mike grin knowingly, and I wondered what else I could send my sister to do for me as the tingles returned.

The End

© Lorna Brand 2017


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