Strange Vibrations

 Story from Roue 20.

Strange Vibrations
by Barry Roberts

He glanced over at her feeling certain that she was about to say 'I told you so.' She didn't – but the look she gave him rendered words unnecessary.

Ever since the first time Doug's second wife, Roberta, had met his daughter she had left him in no doubt as to her feelings regarding the girl's behaviour and the treatment she felt would remedy the situation. 'She's a wilful, spoilt brat,' she had told him once, 'and it's all your fault. You're far too easy with her. You give her an inch and she duly takes a yard. And what do you do? Nothing. If I had behaved like that when I was her age I'd have got a damn good hiding.'

The thought of chastising his daughter had crossed his mind on numerous occasions but the nearest he had come to punishing her in such a manner was by threatening it. 'If I catch you doing that again,' he had warned her often, 'I'll tan your backside.' The threats were always ignored and, when disobeyed, simply weren't carried out. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Pocket money was stopped, curfews set, treats denied. Every form of punishment was employed except one – chastisement.

'Things'll change when we get married,' Roberta announced a week before the day of the wedding, 'I won't stand for any nonsense I can tell you. The moment she steps out of line she'll get a good hiding. If you won't do it then I will!'

Doug had decided not to get into an argument about it – thinking that they would cross that bridge if and when they came to it, although he felt certain that there was no 'if' about it – Linda misbehaving was a bridge that they would come to in no time.

On their honeymoon Doug agreed to his bride's suggestion that they confront Linda with the matter as soon as they returned home. He was far from happy about the situation but felt that, as it was something of such importance to his new wife, then so be it. 'Just don't expect me to hand out any of the hidings,' he told her. 'It's simply not me. I agree there are times when Linda deserves to have her bottom smacked – as long as you understand that if there's any walloping to be done you can do it.'

* * *

'...And so,' Roberta concluded her lecture of the girl as the three of them sat around the kitchen table on the day of their return, 'any further misbehaviour will be punished. Not in the way that your father has seen fit to 'punish' you but in the way that your mother used to punish you before she passed away; the way that all naughty children should be punished.'

Linda opened her mouth but was denied the opportunity to speak.

'I know that was a long time ago and that you probably consider you're too grown-up to be treated in such a manner at your age but let me tell you, I was thrashed by my mother until I was well past my twentieth birthday so, as you see, seventeen isn't too old to have your backside tanned.'

Linda took it very well, her father thought. There were no protestations, no tantrums. When her step-mother had finished the girl simply shrugged her shoulders, rose from the table and left the room. Perhaps, Doug mused, there would be no need for his new wife to carry out her threats after all. It was a thought, though, that he didn't have much confidence in. Sooner or later, he felt, Linda would do something that would warrant a spanking. He just hoped that it would be later rather than sooner.

* * *

'Okay, officer – we'll deal with it,' Doug told the constable.

'Very well, sir. You can count yourself lucky that the shop owner decided against pressing charges. If you ask me – what that girl needs is....'

'Thank you, officer – we'll take care of it,' Doug interrupted.

Roberta showed the constable to the door. 'Have no fear, officer,' she assured him, 'She's going to get exactly what you were going to suggest. Believe me – she'll be sleeping face-down tonight.'

The constable smiled. 'Very pleased to hear it, madam.'

'Well?'

'Well – what?'

'Go on then – say it. Say "I told you so". You said that my letting her get out of hand would result in her getting into trouble with the police before long. So come on – out with it.'

'I'm not one to gloat, Doug, but you have to admit I was right.'

Doug knew that she was. He was also fully aware of the fact that he'd failed as a father. If he had punished his daughter's disobedience with more severity in the past she'd probably have never strayed so far from the straight and narrow as stealing from the corner shop. He was angry with himself but far more incensed with Linda and when his wife announced that she was going up to Linda's room 'to make her pay for her crime' he put up no protests. She deserved it – it was high time she paid for her waywardness.

'I'll leave it to you, then,' he said.

'You not coming up?'

Doug thought awhile. 'I'm not going to do the, er....'

'I know, Doug – you've already said that you'll leave it to me.'

'Then – why....?'

'It's just that I think you ought to be there – witness it. You are her father when all's said and done – even if you don't act like it at times.'

The two of them climbed the stairs to Linda's room. They entered and shut the door behind them. The girl was sprawled out on her bed reading a magazine.

'You know why we're here?'

'S'pose so, step-mother,' Linda replied.

'I've told you not to address me like that. "Mother" will do. Now, come on – stand up – show a bit of respect.'

Linda threw the magazine to the floor and, giving a long deep sigh, got to her feet. Her stepmother sat down on the edge of the bed while her father took up a position by the wardrobe. Linda's arm was grabbed hold of and she was pulled over Roberta's lap. The woman gave the seat of the girl's tight jeans a couple of slaps and then said: 'No – this won't do at all. Stand up.'

She got to her feet and was given the order to take her jeans off.

'But....'

'Get on with it, girl. You wouldn't feel a thing through those. Come on – get them off!'

With all the alacrity of a snail on valium the girl obeyed and stood before her step-mother in blouse, tights and knickers – to be given the further command to remove her tights.

'Right, Linda,' Roberta said, shifting her position on the bed slightly and taking hold of Linda's wrist, 'come on – over you go.'

With more than a little deliberation the girl followed orders and lay across her step-mother's knee awaiting the chastisement. Her blouse was pushed out of the way to reveal a pair of skin-tight pink cotton knickers. Roberta looked over at her husband and back down at the seat of Linda's pants. She put her right hand inside the waistband of the garment and began to pull them down.

'Er... no, Roberta... I don't think that's necessary,' her husband commented.

'Look,' Roberta said, holding the knickers at half-mast, 'who's doing this – you or me?'

'You are, love – but it's just that I don't think there's any need for the girl's pants to come down, that's all.'

'Can we get on with it, please?' Linda's voice came from floor level.

'What harm can there be in taking her knickers down? You're being ridiculous, Doug. She's got to feel it.'

'You've had her remove her jeans and tights – that's enough. She'll feel it alright.'

'Look,' Linda said impatiently, 'take the bloody things down if you like – only get on with it, will you?'

'No, maybe your father's right – you should feel it. It's just that whenever I was spanked as a child it was always on the bare bottom. No, you can keep them up,' she announced, putting them back into place and pulling them up tightly around her teenage bottom. 'I'll just have to hit harder to make sure you get the message.'

Doug didn't know where she had got the practice in – but the spanking that she gave his errant daughter was certainly a thorough one. The smacks fell at a rate of practically one per second and the entire area of Linda's shapely behind was attended to. The girl winced as her bottom was warmed and let out a couple of yelps when the stinging hand of her stepmother landed with more severity. Not to be out-done by her husband's request for Linda's bottom to remain covered, Roberta concentrated more and more on the lower part of the girl's cheeks and the tops of her thighs where there was no protection. It was when Doug saw the redness forming on his daughter's lower buttocks – after about a minute and a half – that he intervened.

'Um... I think that's enough, dear.'

Roberta looked up at him. 'Very well – six more, okay?'

He nodded. Roberta yanked the knickers up as far as they would go and the material disappeared into Linda's bottom-crack leaving the cheeks almost entirely bare. She laid those last six whacks on with all her might and the girl was screaming for mercy at each one. Her bottom wobbled and contorted and finally, when it was all over, heaved gently.

Linda stood and adjusted her knickers before laying face-down on her bed.

* * *

'Don't you think that was a bit harsh?' Doug asked his wife as they made their way downstairs.

'Rubbish – did you see any tears? No. Next time she gets a good hiding it won't be with my hand – I can tell you.'

Doug sincerely hoped there wouldn't be a 'next time' or, at least, that if there was, it wouldn't be for quite a while. He knew that Linda had deserved her punishment but the whole thing had left a nasty taste in his mouth. He still wasn't entirely convinced that physical punishment was a good idea and the thought of his own flesh and blood, Linda – naughty though she was – receiving a tanning with the back of a long hairbrush (Roberta's suggestion) didn't appeal to him at all.

* * *

'Tell your father what you've been up to today!' Roberta yelled at a crestfallen step-daughter. 'Come on – out with it!'

Oh God, thought Doug, she's been up to her tricks again. Bet this ends up with Linda getting another hiding.

'What have you done then, Linda?' he asked the girl.

'Well....'

'Come on – I said I'd make you tell him, now get on with it, girl!'

Linda looked up at her father. 'I... I'm sorry, dad...'

'What have you done this time, Linda?'

'I... er... I was doing something in my bedroom....'

Roberta bullied the girl into telling exactly what it was that she was "doing" that had caused so much fuss – how she had been lying on her bed in only her bra using her fingers to some effect between her legs. Her father was disgusted with her. He had never thought he would ever actually want to see his daughter get a severe thrashing, but such was his anger that he said: 'Right, young lady – if that's an appropriate term for someone who indulges in such acts – get up to your room! Your mother and I will be up shortly.'

Linda left the room and plodded up the stairs. Roberta looked over at her husband, happy in the knowledge that perhaps, at last, she had won him over to her belief in the use of corporal punishment.

'I think this calls for your hairbrush, love,' he suggested.

They ascended the stairs and Roberta went into their room to pick up the hairbrush and, as her husband discovered when she entered Linda's room, something else.

'Where the hell did you get that from?' he asked, astonished.

'Bought it the other day,' she replied, giving the slender cane a noisy swish through the air. 'Just the job – don't you think?'

Doug didn't agree. A row broke out over whether Linda was to receive her just deserts by way of hairbrush or cane. Roberta's suggestion that a dozen-or-so smacks followed by six of the best with the cane wasn't met with her husband's approval and it was finally agreed that the cane would not be used on this occasion, but would be employed should Linda get into big trouble again.

Roberta laid the cane down on Linda's dressing table. 'It can stay here,' she told the girl, 'as a reminder of what you'll get if I catch you doing what you did any more.'

'Come on now, Linda,' her father said. 'Get yourself ready – I haven't got all night – I've got a darts match this evening.'

Roberta was clearly delighted with her husband's newly-found enthusiasm – a delight that was not shared by his daughter, he thought as he looked at the girl's miserable countenance.

Linda stripped down to her petticoat and her step-mother stepped forward to take the straps of the garment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Linda obeyed the order to lie face downwards on her bed and waited motionless in her matching white nylon bra and pants.

'I think we'll have them down – don't you?' Roberta said to her husband, feeling confident that he would agree.

'Er... yes, okay... take them down, love,' he replied.

Roberta walked around to the left side of the bed and, taking hold of the waistband of the tight knickers, dragged them down to Linda's knees. The girl buried her face in the pillow as her step-mother took aim with the wooden-backed hairbrush. It came down with a splat onto the bare skin of Linda's bottom. Down it came again and before long was beating a rhythm on the contorting cheeks. Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat! – 'This'll teach you never to do anything so disgusting again,' Roberta growled as the hairbrush did its job. Splat! Splat! Splat! – 'Ow Owww!' Splat! Splat! 'That's it, my girl, yell all you like – I'm not stopping till you've paid for your badness.' Splat! Splat! Splat!

Realising that his wife meant it and beginning to feel a little queasy at the sight of his daughter's bare bum turning a bright red, Doug said: 'I'll... er leave you to it, then, love.'

'You going?' asked his wife holding the hairbrush threateningly over the chubby bottom of his daughter.

'Yes... I'll be off down the pub – you know – get a few arrows in before the match,' he answered awkwardly and disappeared.

Roberta stopped the spanking and went into her room to watch as her new husband got into his car and drove off. She returned to the girl who was still obediently lying on her tummy on the bed.

'He gone?' Linda enquired of her step-mother.

'Yes, he's gone.'

'Right,' the girl said, standing up and taking off her bra then bending over in the centre of the room, 'you can get to work with the fucking cane now – can't you?'

'You reckon you can take it on top of that whacking – it's very red, Linda – are you sure?'

'You know me, Roberta – glutton for punishment.'

Roberta laughed. She went over to the dressing table and picked up the cane, giving it a couple of strokes through the air. Linda bent right over as far as she could and gripped her ankles and Roberta stood to her left side with her left hand resting on the girl's back.

'Six – okay?' the woman announced.

'Yeah – come on, stop titting about – I'm dying for it – it's been so long.'

The cane came down forcing a gasp from the lips of the girl. Thwack! 'Yeoww!' Five more strokes cracked explosively across the crimson bottom, five more lines appeared across the cheeks and five more squeals were emitted by the naked girl.

She flopped face-down onto her bed and Roberta applied some cold cream to the well punished arse.

'Strangest reason for getting married I've ever heard,' Linda commented, her words muffled to some degree by the pillow on which her head was resting.

'But I love him, Linda.'

'Perhaps you do – but I know of something that you love more.'

Roberta gave her step-daughter a playful smack on her rear-end then returned to the creaming of the girl's buttocks. Her hand slid in between Linda's legs which parted automatically. With her left hand smoothing the lotion over Linda's bottom, her right was now sending electric sensations through the girl's body as it performed a very experienced massaging of the private regions.

'You're a bad, bad girl,' she said as her left hand lightly spanked the stinging cheeks of Linda's bottom. 'Fancy playing with yourself – you know that's my job.'