This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.
He couldn't really have meant what he said.
Yes, he'd threatened it many times...
But he hadn't
really
meant it, right?
Her stepfather wasn't really coming up the stairs in a few minutes to
spank
her, was he?
And he certainly wasn't coming upstairs in a few minutes to spank her
bare bottom
...
Right?
Her best efforts to convince herself aside, the butterflies in her tummy were unlike anything she'd ever felt before.
Because deep down, she wasn't sure she was right...
Well, it was worse than that really.
She was sure she wasn't right.
Maybe, just maybe, he was bluffing about baring her bottom, but she didn't think he was bluffing about spanking her.
And she didn't think he was bluffing about using his belt either...
That was why her pants were already in a pile on the floor.
She'd been told to go upstairs and wait on her bed with her bottom bare, but maybe meeting him halfway was enough?
Or maybe it would mean a much more embarrassing spanking, just like he'd warned her downstairs a few minutes ago...
She slid her fingers into the waistband of her panties and tried to will herself to pull them down, but she couldn't.
Then she heard the footsteps on the stairs. His footsteps.
She panicked.
Not a "you didn't study for the test" panic.
Not a "spilled something on your clothes while at the mall with friends" panic.
A real panic, or at least the most real panic a suburban eighteen-year-old like her was ever likely to feel.
She pulled her panties down... then pulled them back up...
She couldn't leave them down. She just couldn't.
She couldn't let her stepfather... her tall, strong, hardworking stepfather... see her bare bottom.
She left her panties in place, clinging to hope but knowing in her heart they would be coming down soon.
The door opened.
"I see that once again you haven't done as you were told, young lady."
His voice was not angry or even the slightest bit mean.
It was calm, deep, and if anything, almost weary.
That made her blush harder than any scolding could have on its own.
He wasn't looking forward to spanking her. He wasn't even looking forward to baring her bottom.
Had she wanted him to look forward to it? Of course not...
Not
that way
... she didn't think of him
that way
.
But maybe she'd wanted him to think of her
that way
for just a moment?
Either way, his tone made it clear he wasn't.
It also made it clear her panties were coming down.
Somehow that was so much worse.
They wouldn't be coming down because he wanted to see her bare bottom.
They would be coming down because she had been so naughty she needed to have her bare bottom put on display for her stepfather.
"I'm sorry..." she started.
"You are always sorry, young lady, when you pull stunts like this. But today is going to be different."
"Please, please I promise nothing like this will ever happen again..."
"When I let you borrow the car to go to the mall with your friends, young lady, you told me you would be back in time for me to take your mother to the airport, and I said I wanted your phone on the whole time. Instead, I ended up calling an Uber for your mom at the last minute, she nearly missed her flight, and you didn't pick up your phone the whole time."
Nothing about that could really be disputed, so she just said "I'm sorry..." again.
"What did I tell you would happen if you broke my trust again with the car, young lady?"
"Please, daddy, my phone ran out of battery and I lost track of time..."
"Answer me, young lady, unless you need to spend some time in the corner to think about your answer."
The threat shocked her. It somehow made her feel littler and naughtier than even the coming spanking itself.
"You said... you said you would sp... oh please daddy, not that."
He just stood there, waiting for her answer.
"You said you would... spank me."
"How did you say I would spank you, young lady?"
"...with your belt... on my..."
Her eyes pleaded with him. His told her his patience was running out.
"...on my b... my bare bottom."
"You were told to wait for me with your bottom already bare, weren't you young lady?"
"Yes, but daddy please, I'm eighteen, please let me keep my panties up."
"A spanking would be much less embarrassing for you with your panties up, wouldn't it young lady?
"Yes, yes daddy, please let me leave them up."
"That is exactly why they will be coming down, young lady."
She wanted to beg, to convince him somehow, but no words would form.
"Now pull them down, young lady, as you were told."
She didn't want to pull them down, but it was almost the exact opposite of when she'd tried to pull them down earlier.
Then she had been frozen and couldn't make her fingers move.
Now it was as if they moved on their own, compelled by the deep, stern voice of the man looming over her.
She pulled them down, not quickly but not slowly either, until her bottom was fully bare.
Somehow the way she pulled them down was the worst of both worlds.
Instead of pulling them down in the room alone, with maybe a shred of nonchalance and dignity, she instead was pulling them down after begging to keep them up, with him watching, and with her barely having conscious control of her fingers.
But it was worse than that, even.
Though she barely felt in control of her fingers, she still felt the waistband slide over every inch of her bottom.
It was a matter of a second, maybe less, but it felt like a hundred years as she was revealed bit by bit.
Now the cool air was wafting over her bottom.
Her
bare
bottom.
It hit her like a sledgehammer.
This was real.
Her bottom was
bare
in front of her stepfather.
She was eighteen years old, just home from the mall, and she was about to have her bare bottom spanked.
Then she heard him unbuckle his belt.
"We will start with you lying over the bed where you are, young lady, but you won't be able to stay in position long."
That meant it was going to sting. Really sting. This wasn't just going to be about embarrassment alone.
"Once you start having trouble staying in position, young lady, you will be going over my knee."
That was bad enough.
She would remember forever what he said next, though.
"If you had obeyed me and had your panties down when I came upstairs, you would have gotten to keep them where they are, bunched around your hips in the back so only your bottom is bare. But you didn't obey, did you young lady?"
"No... but daddy..."
She didn't even know what was coming next and yet she wanted to beg anyway.
"Since you didn't pull your panties down on your own when you had the chance, young lady, before you go over my knee I will be pulling them down the rest of the way for you."
She couldn't really say for sure which part of that hit first.
Was it the fact that her stepfather would be pulling down her panties for her like a naughty little girl?
Or was it the fact that he'd said "before you go over my knee"?
The first part was shameful but the second was beyond thinking about if he meant it the way she feared.
He couldn't really mean
before
she went over his knee, right?
That would mean while she was standing in front of him.
That would mean him pulling down her panties from the front.
That would mean him seeing...
He couldn't have meant it like that.
But she knew he had.
He just left it alone, saying nothing else about it for the moment.
That made it worse.
She could tell herself he hadn't meant it the way she feared and that was why he didn't follow up on it.
But that wasn't why he didn't follow up on it and she knew it.
He didn't follow up on it because he heard her shocked intake of breath, saw her blush crimson, and knew she understood.
He didn't follow up because there was no need to follow up.
He knew that she knew that in a few minutes her bottom would be burning and her pussy would be bare in front of him.
Oh My God!
Oh My God!
This time it wasn't a sledgehammer that hit her.
It was a freight train.
Her pussy wouldn't just be bare.
It would be
bare
!
She had shaved just this morning.
What she'd felt earlier wasn't panic.
This was panic.
This was beyond panic.
"It's time we got this over with, young lady."
His voice cut through her panic, but only for a moment. Her panic resumed. Even the whoosh of air didn't dispel it.
The sting of that first lash, though, made her forget everything else.
She didn't cry out. She clung to the tiniest shred of dignity.
