My Responsibility

Two girls play a prank and pay the price. By a new writer to us

By Sasha G

Hi, people, my name is Darcy Pingleton and I’m sixty-two years old. I’m married to a devoted husband and, although all my children are grown up, I had decided to get a dog. I’d just picked her up today, a lively little Shih Tzu only twelve weeks old. I’ve named her Buttons, after my first dog, and right now I’m sitting by the fireplace with her asleep on my lap.

My still incredibly handsome husband, Matt, walks in and sits down across from me. He looks up at me and asks: “Why did you name her buttons?”

I blush. “It’s a long story, really,” I say.

He gives me a bone-warming smile and says, “Honey, we have all night. Tell me.”

My heart melts to his eyes, exactly the way they did forty-two years ago. “Well, it was because my first dog, another Shih Tzu, was named Buttons.”

Matt gives me a look. The look. “And why,” he prods, “Was your first dog named Buttons?”

He is such a genius. Always can tell when I’m dodging his questions.

“Well, I named her after an incident that happened shortly before I got her. I got her as a Christmas present but since the breeder insisted she be at least twelve weeks old, we actually had to get her the day after Christmas. Christmas day, we had actually celebrated with family two days before since that was the only time the whole family could come together, but we were still having a little private party of our own.

I woke up in the morning and, tearing out of bed at five o’ clock in the morning, ran straight into my mom. She, knowing well what a toll my behavior would take on my just seventeen year old body if not enough sleep was gathered, but I begged her so hard that she let me stay up.

I got awesome presents, including a small bracelet made out of buttons on a string. Mom said that it had belonged to her as a little girl, and that she was passing it on to me. After thanking her warmly, I went outside to see if any of the neighborhood kids were out. There was no one except my very best friend, Sofia Silver.

Apparently Sofia was coming over to my house. She is towing her Golden Retriever, Bodger, along behind her. Bodger is sweet and is so easy-going that he lets Sofia straddle him when he’s sitting.

‘Sofia,’ I yell.

‘Here,’ she jokes sarcastically.

‘Ready?’ I say.

‘Yes,’ confirms Sofia.

Going inside, I inform my parents that Sofia and I are leaving now to go and walk up to the dog park for a while. Returning outside, we sneak Bodger back to Sofia’s house and shut him up in her room. Sofia’s parents are over at my house. As both of us have no siblings, Bodger will be safe from discovery for at least a few hours. Then, mounting our bikes, we speed off down the street.

I smile at Matt. “Satisfied?” I joke.

“No way,” he smiles and we snuggle up together on the couch. Then I continue my story.

Our plan was to have a bit of fun. I still swear it was all Sofia’s plan, although I suppose I did go along with it. I knew that holding up the ginormous Christmas tree in the city square was a system of cables. These cables also lit up the lights on the Christmas tree. The rumor ran that there were two buttons on the Christmas tree. The red one would make the Christmas tree play music if it was plugged into an ipod or another musical device. The green button would not only shut off the flow of electricity, but shut down the whole city’s lights on account of the fact that when the Christmas tree lights went out, every single light in the city went out. And no, that was not what I and Sofia were planning to do.

At ten o’ clock every day, the Salvation Army singers sing Hark the Herald Angels in front of the tree and Sofia thought it would be hilarious if we took my Ipod and, plugging it into the Christmas tree, made the tree start playing Jingle Bells in the middle of the singing. We approached and sure enough, there was a cable to hook up my Ipod. We got it all set up, and hunkered down between a bush and the tree. We were not well hidden, so it was rather a pity that none of the singers saw us while they gathered. But, they didn’t.

They just started singing. And in the middle of the song ‘New born Kinggggg’ Sofia said I had to be the one to push the button as she had on a bright red jacket which everyone would notice whereas I was much more camouflaged in a green sweater. So I stretched out and pressed the red button. Then there was a deafening bang, and all the city’s lights went out. Except, unfortunately, for the sun. Of course, we got caught by one the Salvation Army men (salvation, really?) and dragged home to our parents who had been having a lovely toast right at that moment and greatly enjoying the cake my mom had baked.

So it was two rather irate sets of parents who met me and Sofia in the living room along with the Salvation Army man and a police officer. I felt ashamed and hung my head. Sofia looked rather indifferent, although I must say she was never a girl to show much emotion, preferring to keep all emotions inside her. We were sent up to my room while our parents sorted the mess out.

When we were called out, my Dad was standing there with a wooden spoon, while Mrs Silver held a wooden spoon with a slightly lighter colored wood tone. I immediately sobbed something about how Dad had promised he wouldn’t spank me after I was ten years old, while Sofia, dry-eyed and mature, said nothing. Then Dad killed me.

“Sofia,” he announced, “I personally said I would not spank you. I just stopped doing it. But then we’ve reached an agreement. I won’t spank you. Mr Phillips will,” gesturing to the Salvation Arm man.

“And to be fair,” Mrs Silver added, “Officer Johnson will spank Sofia.”

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to faint. I wished to do so now. Maybe then I’d get rushed to the hospital and Dad and Mom would be so worried they have forgotten about my spanking. Well, that wouldn’t be possible since Sofia would get one anyway. But it would at least postpone the punishment. Unfortunately, all I got was a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I personally, was rather relieved to get the Salvation Army man in preference to the police officer who, I thought, would definitely have stronger muscles than any old army man. While I was made to stand in the corner, I was permitted to watch Sofia.

Officer Johson seemed fairly inexperienced in the practice of spanking girl’s bottoms. “Uh, Sofia,” he mumbled, “Please come over here.”

Sofia obeyed and, without being told, slid her jeans and panties down to her knees. She then draped herself over Officer Johson’s knees. Officer Johson looked like he was afraid this was a dream and that he would wake up and find it to be so. Sofia was a great girl with a great figure. Unlike me, she never strove with make up or dresses, she was a bit of tom girl with no sense of fashion whatsoever.

Whap went the spoon on Sophia’s bottom. Mr and Mrs Silver exchanged glances. Officer Johnson noticed and took heart. SMACK, CRACK, WHAP, WHAP, CRACK. I could just detect tears leaking out of Sophia’s eyes. SMACK, CRACK, SMACK, CRACK, rang the spoon.

Officer Johnson paused as though to see whether he’d been too harsh with Sophia, but Mrs Silver only glanced back with a slightly disgusted look.

SMACK, CRACK, SMACK, “Will SMACK you SMACK ever CRACK try CRACK, that WHAP again?” Bellowed Officer Johnson.

“No sir,” replied Sophia. Her voice was choked with tears, but she still hadn’t made any noise to speak of, just slight squirming and bucking.

“Well,” remarked Officer Johnson, I’ll finish up with five final whacks.”

BLAM, SLAM, WHAM, BLAM, BANG. On the final stroke, Sophia let out a scream in spite of herself, but immediately stood up and, wiping the tears from her face, thanked Officer Johnson politely. He responded that he hoped she would behave better in the future but while the lights and power were still being repaired, perhaps she could light the city with her glowing red bottom, at which joke everyone laughed, except for me. Even Sophia.

Matt snuggles closer to me. “Keep talking,” he begs and tickles me until I comply.

OK, so I really thought that Sophia had gotten the worst with the Police Officer’s strong right arm, but as I learned later, Mr Phillips had more experience as he was father to two girls of his own and one son.

“Darcy, come here this INSTANT!” No patience.

I comply as fast as I can but he still drags me over his knee like the world may end soon but he has to finish spanking me before it does. Then, after scolding me for about five minutes, he starts the spanking. WHAM, BLAM, SLAM, CRACK, CRACK, SMACK, BLAM, SMACK, CRACK, SLAM, CRACK, BLAM.

I start to cry really hard. Bravery is forgotten.

SLAM, CRACK, WHAM, BLAM, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!

I don’t learn until later that he didn’t give me quite as many swats as Sophia got. It doesn’t matter. He did it with ten times more venom. Setting me rather roughly on my feet, he demands an apology. I mumble one and struggle to quickly pull up my panties and shorts. Eventually, it is all over.

Sophie and I are lying on my bed when my mother walks in.

“Darcy, the police found this near the Christmas tree.”

I gape. It is my button bracelet Christmas present.

Mom frowns. “Darcy, that bracelet is something of an heirloom. I’m giving you two choices. Either be grounded for the rest of Christmas vacation or take five spanks from the strap.

I make my choice before I can lose my courage. Not even bothering to send Sophia out of the room, Mom makes me bend over the end of the bed with my still light-red rump up in the air.

SPLAT, (crying by the first stroke), WHAP, SLAP, SLAP, CRACKKKKKK.

I’m a mess of tears and apologies by the end. When I picked up my puppy the next day, I noticed she had two brown markings on her rump.

“Well,” suggests Mom, “You could call her ‘Buttons’ since she has those round spots on her BUTT.”

Mom was joking, but the name stuck.

I smile at Matt who gazes at me in admiration. “Man,” he admits, “I don’t think my parents would ever let anyone else spank me, but they certainly did spank me themselves.”

“Why don’t we take a break and then you can tell me about it?” I suggest. And that’s what we do.

The End

© Sasha G 2018


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