A girl thought babysitting was an easy job with good pay and benefits when her boyfriend joined her until she discovers painful consequences

By Joanna Jones

Betty came happily in from a trip shopping on Saturday afternoon, looking forward to an evening that promised to be fun. Her boyfriend was taking her to the cinema that night, and she was going to see him on Sunday too. While her parents would not let her spend the night with him, despite her being nineteen, with his parents out all day she was sure that Sunday would be a passionate day. She hoped he would like the new lingerie that she’d just splashed out on.

She was a little surprised to see their neighbour, Jane Thomson, in the kitchen with her mother and had an odd inkling that things were not right as she greeted them, seeing two faces that were rather cold and sombre. Neither looked very welcoming.

“Betty, Mrs Thomson has been discussing your babysitting with me.”

Betty looked confused; she had always ensured the two children were in bed at the right time, the house was left tidy and so on.

The two older women looked at each other, recognising that the young woman in front of them clearly had no idea what the problem was.

It was Mrs Thomson who posed the key question. “Betty, have you been having your boyfriend round when babysitting?”

Betty felt a lurch, the lurch she recognised as being that she had when caught in trouble. She caught the knowing look the women gave each other, and realised her reaction had answered the question all too eloquently.

“Yes, he came round for a short time on a couple of occasions. I should have discussed it with you first. I am sorry.”

Mrs Thomson ignored the apology. “My children gave me some very odd stories about things they had seen, on the more than couple of occasions you had him in. Apparently they heard the noises one evening and snuck down to see what was happening. You were so ‘busy’ that you did not notice. In contrast, they seemed to have been so interested that they snuck down quite a few times to watch your ‘activities’. I have had to have some very long chats with John and Lucy as a result! Chats that were very difficult and I should not have needed to have with my children at their age!”

Betty stared horrified at the two women: Mrs Thomson was visibly angry, while her mother was very obviously utterly furious and totally disappointed at the same time. The ‘lurch’ she felt a few moments before had magnified and caused her stomach to seemingly fall to her feet.

Before she could gather enough wit to respond, Mrs Thomson had continued.

“Do you know how I found out? I found out when I saw the two of them playing with their Barbie and Action Man dolls together in very odd ways. Certainly very odd for a six year old girl and her eight year old brother to be using in play. When I asked them what they were doing they said they were playing ‘babysitters’.”

Betty felt sick, faint at the news her activities with Roger had been observed. She was sure they were safe in bed and asleep before Roger had arrived. She then remembered her own pretences as a young child, usually to read under the covers by torch after. Clearly she had been tricked.

“I thought they were asleep, I checked on them carefully.” She declared, as much to herself as to the two ladies sitting staring up at her.

Her mother intervened. “What you thought is irrelevant, you betrayed Mrs Thomson’s trust, my friend’s trust, in you. I am so ashamed to have to call you my daughter at the moment. I promise you, you will never be allowed to babysit for Mrs Thomson, or anyone else, at least until after you graduate from university when perhaps I might see some better maturity, given the dreadful lack of judgment you have shown. Your little sister is now sixteen and Mrs Thomson has kindly agreed that your behaviour should not reflect on her. She will be offered the babysitting slot, and I will be telling Mrs Jones that you are unable to help her either now, and offer Sarah’s services too.”

Betty was shocked at the punishment; the loss of the ‘pocket money’ those jobs provided was going to be a hard blow. However, there was nothing she could bring herself to say. She knew what she had been up to with Roger, knew what the children had no doubt seen. On that front she was mortified.

Her mother continued. “Mary has very fortunately agreed that as you will not be sitting again for a few years she will keep your activities confidential from her, and my, friends.

Betty, face now showing her dreadful embarrassment, nodded and weakly thanked Jane Thomson.

“You are also going to be thoroughly punished, young lady. I have spoken to Val Richards and she is going to ground Roger for three weeks and give him a thrashing to remind him how to behave. However, you are the most responsible. You are grounded for six weeks and I promise you the spanking you are about to get will be something you will always remember!”

Betty felt herself go weak at the knees as the fact that her ban was being deemed far from sufficient sanction. She began to beg, “But mum, please, you’ve already stopped me from babysitting…,”

“That’s not a punishment, merely a natural consequence of the fact you are clearly not yet to be trusted. Now call your sister down. I want her to see exactly what happens here, just in case she is ever tempted. Oh, and you know what to bring back with you too!”

Yes, Betty knew what her mother was getting at; the dark brown wooden clothes brush that was kept in the under-stair cloakroom with the coats. It was the traditional family spanking implement, an implement her bottom had not seen for quite some time, well at least since she’d missed that curfew about eight months ago. Betty’s doleful eyes eloquently pled for some mercy from the two women.

None was forthcoming. Eventually she dropped her eyes to the floor and left the room, to reluctantly find her sister.

A few minutes later, Sarah was sitting in the armchair near the sofa. She was rather nervous and confused as she looked at the brush on the coffee table and her big sister standing, fidgeting in clear trepidation, to one side.

She did not have to wait long to find out what it was all about. She gawped at her clearly quaking sister in open mouthed astonishment at how silly she’d been. She, of course, accepted the babysitting opportunity without question, though feeling a little guilty that it was coming at the cost of her big sister.

When her mother told her she wanted her to watch Betty’s punishment, her jaw dropped. Normally they were punished, a pretty rare event at their current ages, in the privacy of their bedrooms. Her mind tried to remember the last time she’d seen Betty spanked, and came to the conclusion it was in that small self-catering cottage in Wales three years ago when they’d actually come to blows over, of all things, which side of the double bed they would have to sleep in. The room was supposed to have been twin bedded but it hadn’t turned out that way. Her mother had found a wooden spoon in the kitchen and laid into Betty’s backside. Not that she’d really appreciated the action from her soon bawling sister; she knew she was watching a fate she too was sentenced to. She gave an involuntary shiver remembering her own sobbed reactions as that spoon peppered her own rear all too soon after.

This promised to be very different.

Sarah watched her mother call poor Betty across and, slapping her hands angrily away, stripped her sister’s jeans and then knickers down and then off. Right in front of not only her, but Mrs Thomson, who was looking impassively on.

Betty was certainly not impassive as she sobbed in humiliation and begged to be allowed at least her modesty.

No hope of that, seconds later her bottom was over Jane Thomson’s lap. A wail from her sister accompanied the brush being passed to the younger mother.

Moments later Betty’s wails were caused by entirely another effect as the brush was applied repeatedly to her bared buttocks. Sarah was surprised at Jane’s strength, keeping her struggling big sister in position as her sibling’s posterior turned pink, then red, with clear oval marks from the shape of the brush suffusing the overall colour.

Sarah was nearly crying in sympathy by the time Jane decided the bawling nineteen year old on her lap had had enough. It had been a far worse punishment than any she had seen her parents give either of them.

Then Sarah’s jaw dropped. Clearly her mother did not think it was enough. Betty was being dragged now struggling again from one lap to another.

Then her mother started, inducing screams that just have to have been heard by the whole neighbourhood, first paddling that poor crimson bottom a darker shade of red, before then working down the till then unpunished thighs. At least she moderated the force slightly for that. Not that Betty seemed to notice; her screams and struggles had restarted as soon as the fresh sting had begun.

Finally finished with her errant daughter Sarah watched her mother release her sister and gently push her off her lap. Whereupon Betty collapsed to the floor and wept, still sobbing how sorry she was.

It was ten minutes before, at her mother’s request Sarah helped her distraught sister to stand and then slowly help her up to her room, whereupon Betty flopped face down on her bed, still giving guttural sobs between ragged breaths.

As Sarah closed the door to Betty’s room she took a final look at her sister’s black and blue spanked bum, with crimson marks extending down to mid thigh. She determined never to fall into the trap Betty had; no amount of fun with a boyfriend was worth that consequence.

The End

© Joanna Jones 2014