Jessicas Unacceptable Behavior

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Jessicas Unacceptable Behavior

Charlotte Anderson sat in her living room on a crisp fall day, visiting with her friend Victoria Marshall. The two women had met at meetings and sporting events at the high school which both of their daughters attended, and had become good friends over the past years.

The topic that afternoon was Victoria's daughter, Jessica. Mrs. Marshall was talking in a worried tone about the changes that had been occurring in Jessica's behavior during the past year. She had started high school with bright prospects and good grades, but this year was decidedly different.

She had announced that she would not be going out for the track team this year, her grades had been dropping, and Mrs. Marshall was sure that she had begun drinking and smoking, judging by the obvious attempts to use colognes and mouthwashes to mask the smells. Worst of all was her attitude, which was becoming downright sarcastic and disrespectful. Victoria cared about her daughter and knew that these formative years were the most important, but she expressed her concern to Mrs. Anderson on whether or not she would be an influence to Jessica.

The previous year, Mrs. Anderson had noticed the beginnings of the same attitudes in her daughter Brooke, combined with attempts to deceive her.

Brooke had pulled a frustrating stunt where she had faked being sick to get out of a test. Charlotte had always spanked Brooke when necessary, but saw the need for more severe punishments in order to keep her increasingly independent-acting daughter in check. The episode with the faked sickness had not been repeated since the paddling that Brooke had received, but she had committed other infractions since. Mrs. Anderson had carefully explained to Brooke the program of punishments that she was instituting, and she always delivered when necessary. She explained to Mrs. Marshall that girls in their teens needed guidance and when necessary, corporal punishment. When simple spankings were no longer effective, tougher punishments combined with humiliation were necessary.

Mrs. Marshall listened with interest, but wasn't sure if she had it in her to perform the same role of disciplinarian as her confident friend, Charlotte. She asked for details as to how Brooke was punished and what behavior called for which level of discipline. "Oh, I'm very harsh with Brooke now," explained Charlotte. "She's well aware of what happens when she misbehaves and I owe it to her in the long run to not hold back."

"Well, what sort of punishment do you recommend for, say, staying out late and drinking?"

Charlotte replied, "Well, Brooke tried that trick in the summer and I gave her some good old- fashioned remedies for her hangover and then a long paddling after her headache and nausea had gone away. In general, it's at least an over-the-knee spanking for light infractions, all the way up to ginger suppositories, the strap, and then a large-volume enema."

Victoria was mildly shocked - enemas weren't given as often as in the 60's when she was growing up, but Charlotte assured her that there was still a brisk business in medical supply companies supplying private individuals with enema bags, retention nozzles, suppositories, and colon tubes. "In fact, Brooke broke her curfew on Friday and although I couldn't believe it, she had cigarette smoke on her breath. What's more, she had a smart attitude with me, so I made her aware that she's due for some rather severe correction. Would you like to stay for a while and see the sort of punishment that I dole out?"

"That sounds embarrassing for Brooke," Mrs. Marshall replied.

"Embarrassment or humiliation can be effective components of the punishment," Mrs. Anderson replied, "but I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Victoria thought for a moment and realized that this might be the only thing that would save her Jessica from continued bad grades and a dimmer future. She answered, "I guess I might be embarrassed, but I'd like to see what you recommend. I've never disciplined Jessica beyond simply grounding her."

Mrs. Anderson nodded in agreement; "Brooke's right upstairs - she was certainly grounded for the rest of the weekend. I'll go up and explain that she'll be having an audience for her punishment. Excuse me..." Charlotte got up and trotted up the stairs to her daughter's closed bedroom door. She knocked once and entered, to find Brooke talking on the phone. Brooke, startled, looked up; she knew that while grounded, she wasn't supposed to use the phone. Her expression went from startled to nervous, as her mother gestured for her to hang up with an angry expression.

"Brooke, you know you're not to use the phone when you're grounded. At any rate, Mrs. Marshall is downstairs and we're going to help her to help your friend Jessica. We've agreed that Jessica might need the same sort of discipline that I give to you, and we're going to be giving a demonstration of that this afternoon. Now, downstairs so I can show Mrs. Marshall what we do to work on your attitude."

Brooke knew that she was looking at at least a spanking that afternoon, but her heart rate quickened with the new knowledge that she'd be disciplined in front of one of her friends' mother! "Please Mom, can't we wait until Mrs. Marshall leaves?" Brooke pleaded.

Mrs. Anderson said, "I'm losing patience, Brooke. You know that you need to be punished and I'm not going to ask you again."

"But Mom . . ." Brooke whined.

"That's it, Brooke. Come downstairs with me, right now, and no more complaints!" Mrs. Anderson seized Brooke's arm and propelled her to the staircase and down the stairs.

Mrs. Marshall was waiting for them in the brightly sunlit den. "Say good afternoon to Mrs. Marshall," Charlotte urged.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Marshall," Brooke said, shifting from one foot to the other, knowing that soon she would be over her mother's knee in full view of her friend's mom.

Mrs. Marshall wasn't sure what to say and there was a brief silence, but Charlotte took control of the situation. She turned to her daughter: "OK, Brooke, I know this may appear odd, but I am happy with how you're progressing in school and with your attitude (usually), and I believe that this is due to the discipline that I give to you when you need it. Please go and fetch all of the punishment equipment and bring it back here."

Brooke hesitated and then, knowing that there was no way out, politely excused herself and went to upstairs to collect the various items. She brought them back down and stood in front of her mother and Mrs. Marshall, beginning to blush when she looked down at them. Charlotte took the various pieces from Brooke and laid them down on the coffee table.

"First is this paddle," she help up a round wooden paddle and explained to Mrs. Marshall, "I bought it at the local sporting goods store and I believe it was manufactured for paddle-ball. The holes help the air to move through it when it's swung. The strap is just a men's belt with the buckle snipped off, and I use that for when extreme punishments are necessary. These are ginger suppositories, which you can buy at health-food stores. They are inserted into Brooke's rectum before her paddling and create an unpleasant burning sensation. Finally, this enema bag is a four-quart model. Brooke has trouble holding in that much, so I use this inflatable nozzle. Once inserted, I squeeze this rubber bulb and the end inflates so it stays inside Brooke's rectum. So as not harm the delicate tissues of the anus and rectum, I make sure that everything is well- lubricated, either with petroleum jelly or KY jelly. I time spankings, paddlings, and enemas with this electronic kitchen timer."

Mrs. Anderson turned back to her daughter who was standing before them.

"All right, Brooke, please get undressed." Brooke's mouth fell open - she had thought that she might be let off with keeping at least some of her clothes on, but realized that that was not to be. "Oh, come now, Brooke, Mrs. Marshall is a woman as well, and there's nothing that you have that she's not seen before - now take off all of your clothes." Brooke reluctantly began to undress by removing her socks and jeans and pulling her T-shirt off over her head.

As she continued, Mrs. Anderson explained to Mrs. Marshall, "I informed Brooke early on that she would always be spanked completely naked to remind her that she is my daughter and that I am in charge." Brooke continued by unhooking her bra, releasing her seventeen year-old breasts. Mrs. Anderson rose and moved a straight-back chair to the center of the room, facing Mrs. Marshall, and then sat down on it. She gestured for Brooke to bend over her lap. The teen- ager walked over and was guided into the correct angle over her mother's knees. Mrs. Marshall continued to watch, making mental notes.

"At some point, I realized that having Brooke leave her panties on until after she's over my knee increases her humiliation when I pull them down for her," Charlotte said, as she reached over and grasped the waistband of her daughter's panties. She pulled them down over Brooke's buttocks and then slid them down to her ankles. Brooke blushed furiously as she felt her panties pulled down to bare her bottom. "Victoria, if I'm going to be paddling Brooke, I usually start with a hand-spanking to warm her up. All right, Brooke, are you ready for your spanking?"

"Yes, ma'am," Brooke replied, as her mother unbuttoned the cuff of her right sleeve.

Charlotte set the kitchen timer for three minutes and then began spanking her daughter, smacking first the left cheek and then the right. Brooke began to breathe heavier and tears began to well up in her eyes, but she knew that worse was coming. The spanking progressed on as Brooke's buttocks began to take on a bright-red glow. Mrs. Marshall noted that as the timer reached two minutes, tears had begun to roll down Brooke's face and she winced each time her mother's palm made contact with her buttocks. The timer beeped as it reached three minutes and Mrs. Anderson stopped the spanking. She let Brooke have a moment's rest and then told her to stand up.

"Brooke, please put your panties with the rest of your clothes," Mrs. Anderson ordered. Brooke complied, sniffling. She deposited her panties on top of the pile of her clothes. "Now bring me a suppository, the petroleum jelly, and the paddle, please, Brooke," Mrs. Anderson said, as she shifted her chair around so Mrs. Marshall was on her right. Brooke picked up the package of suppositories and removed one from its foil wrapper. She opened the jar of vaseline and handed it to her mother along with the paddle, then bent back over her mother's lap, her rear end now facing Mrs. Marshall.

Mrs. Anderson dipped the suppository in the petroleum jelly so that it was completely coated with the lubricant and then spread her daughter's buttocks wide. Holding the naked teenager's buttocks apart so that her anus was fully exposed, Mrs. Anderson pressed the end of the bullet- shaped pill into her daughter's anus and then pushed it all the way into her rectum with her middle finger. "After I insert the suppository, I hold it in place until it begins to melt - about ten seconds." Mrs. Anderson proceeded to slide her finger in and out of her daughter's rectum several times to spread the ginger solution around. Brooke immediately began to feel the familiar burning sensation, and Mrs. Marshall saw that her buttocks were twitching as if trying to expel the suppository.

Mrs. Anderson kept her daughter in position for a few more seconds before re-setting the timer to five minutes and picking up the paddle. Brooke felt the cold wood of the paddle rested on the warm skin of her bottom as her mother asked her, "Brooke are you ready for your paddling?"

"Yes, ma'am," Brooke replied.

"And you understand why you're being given this punishment, correct?"

Brooke said, "Because I've been a naughty girl and I deserve to be punished for breaking my curfew and having a bad attitude."

"That's correct, Brooke. I make sure that Brooke understands that she's brought her punishment on herself and that it's for her own good," Mrs. Anderson explained to Mrs. Marshall as she started the timer. As her friend lifted the paddle, Mrs. Marshall noticed that Brooke's buttocks tensed a bit and that she was gripping the legs of the chair tightly. Apparently, Brooke knew that she was in for a great deal of discomfort.

The first stroke smacked down on Brooke's behind, resulting in a sharp intake of breath from the teenager. The paddle was lifted and brought down again and again. Within a minute, Brooke went from heavy breathing to outright crying. As the timer passed three minutes, the girl's buttocks had taken on an angry purple color and she was weeping steadily, punctuated by louder cries each time the wood slapped down on her bottom. During the final sixty seconds, each stroke was accompanied by a "No!" or "I'm sorry!" from Brooke. The timer finally beeped and Mrs. Anderson ceased the paddling. She let her daughter lie over her lap for a good two minutes, crying and moaning.

After Brooke's weeping had calmed a bit, Mrs. Anderson had her stand up.

She stood naked before the two adults, weeping and holding her own bottom.

"Since Brooke was extra naughty today and didn't come downstairs immediately as I asked, I'm going to give her a few strokes of the strap as well," Mrs. Anderson said.

At this Brooke's crying re-intensified to a wail. "Now Brooke, you knew better than to disregard me and you know that you deserve to be whipped," Mrs. Anderson admonished. "Now please bend over the chair in the usual position."

Mrs. Marshall watched as Brooke slowly bent over the back of the upright chair and held on to the seat, staring straight ahead as her breasts hung straight down. Mrs. Anderson picked up the strap and approached her daughter's left side. She wrapped the strap around her hand and told her daughter, "Only three strokes, Brooke." She lifted her arm and with a good wind-up, brought the strap around to sharply strike her crying daughter's behind.

"Owwwww ... one," Brooke counted. Smack! "Oh, oh, oh ... t-two," Brooke barely got out before... Smack! "N-no ... threeeee," Brooke turned the "three" into a long wail as her knees buckled a bit. There were three clear stripes across her buttocks, but she remained in position until allowed to stand up by her mother.

"Brooke, I want you to stand in the corner in the bathroom while I prepare your enema," Mrs. Anderson said. Brooke obediently walked into the bathroom and faced the corner with her hands are her sides. She had silently hoped that she wouldn't be given an enema in front of Mrs. Marshall, but at the same time, her rectum was burning from the ginger almost as much as her bottom was smarting from her discipline and an enema would at least give her some relief. She knew complaining would only buy her additional strokes with the belt.

Mrs. Marshall followed Brooke into the large bathroom, bringing the enema equipment, the timer, and the petroleum jelly. She beckoned for Mrs. Marshall to follow her in. First she filled the enema bag about three-quarters with hot water and then squirted a large amount of hand soap in, followed by cold water to fill the bag up to its full gallon capacity.

She shook the bag to mix the solution, then attached a rubber hose and thoroughly lubricated the large inflatable nozzle with vaseline. Finishing, she hung the bag on a towel rack, then spread a bath towel out on the floor and called Brooke over from the corner. Mrs. Anderson had her daughter get down on her knees and elbows and spread her legs, exposing her anus and vagina. She then knelt beside her daughter, holding the enema nozzle in her hand. "This nozzle may look big, but I assure you that Brooke will be able to accommodate it," Mrs. Anderson said to Mrs. Marshall who was watching from her seat on the edge of the tub.

Mrs. Anderson held open Brooke's buttocks and pressed the nozzle against the girl's anus. Brooke winced as her sore buttocks were touched and then grimaced as the large nozzle was pushed into her parting anus. The teenager's anus stretched to accept the nozzle, which popped in after a moment. Mrs. Anderson gave the rubber bulb attached to it several squeezes to inflate the internal balloon, then released the clamp on the tube.

Brooke began to take deep breaths as the four quarts of soapy water began to run into her bowels. As the enema bag flattened, Brooke squirmed around while her mother massaged her expanding tummy. With about a third remaining, Brooke began to cry again, "Mommy, I don't think I can take the rest!"

"Of course you can ... and you will, Brooke. Keep taking deep breaths." Brooke tried to stay composed, but the growing cramps in her belly and the humiliation of her position caused her to dissolve once again into tears.

The full amount of soapy water finally ran into the naughty girl's bottom, and Mrs. Anderson disconnected the tube from the bag and helped her weeping daughter to her feet. "Ten minutes, Brooke," she said, setting the timer.

Brooke hiccupped, "Y-yes, ma'am," and returned to her position in the corner, the enema tube dangling from her anus. She pressed her nose into the corner of the bathroom and clenched her fists, her insides churning with a gallon of soapy solution.

Mrs. Anderson washed out the enema bag and hung it up to dry, telling Mrs. Marshall, "I let the enema stay inside of Brooke for ten minutes and then allow her to relieve herself. Her punishment is then over and her infraction forgotten ... except hopefully by her. I doubt that she will ever break her curfew or smoke again." Brooke silently agreed.

Finally, the timer beeped and Brooke was allowed to sit on the toilet. Her mother reached between her legs and released the inflatable bulb, allowing the enema tube to be pulled out of her rectum. Brooke began to expel the enema solution, as her mother and Mrs. Marshall left the bathroom and closed the door.

Back in the den, Mrs. Marshall thanked her friend and decided that it was never too late to begin disciplining naughty girls, even those who were seventeen. Mrs. Anderson helped her to make a shopping list and recommended some medical supply companies, where Victoria would be able to find the necessary equipment.

By this time, Brooke had finished her business in the bathroom and was allowed to get dressed again. She overheard the two adults' conversation and considered calling Jessica to warn her of her impending doom, but then again, she knew it was all for her own good.