The doorbell rang. I was still in the corner, still naked and very much ashamed. My heart thudded in my chest and a cold shiver ran down my spine. Dad’s heavy footsteps echoed on the entryway floor and I flinched at the sound of the deadbolt being turned back. The door separated from its seal and the hinges squeaked, but my ears ignored the door and focused on the chorus of voices from beyond its threshold. Thanksgiving was in full swing and the corner was no place to hide.
My siblings descended the stairs in a rumble. I could hear the cramming of family gathering in the entryway with the door still wide open. The sounds of greetings and hugs permeated the air with a warmth that nevertheless put a chill in my bones. I pressed myself into the corner as though it could swallow me if I pushed hard enough. The door closed shut with a click and the deadbolt was turned once more. Silence fell upon the house. I didn’t need to turn around to know they were looking at me or more aptly, my bare, spanked butt.
Aunt Matilda cackled. “Don’t tell me I’ve got a naughty niece.”
“Of course not,” my brother Jeremy said. “It’s just a bad girl with no clothes and a red bottom standing in the corner. We don’t really know who she is, but with a butt that festive Dad just couldn’t resist displaying it.”
I blushed hotter by the second, keenly aware of my nakedness and my still aching butt. If embarrassment killed, I would have been six-feet under in a see-through casket. My hands were possessed with an almost insuppressible desire to cover my bare breasts, not that it would be enough or of any real value in protecting my modesty. I was exposed and there was no escape without even greater exposure. It seemed like my worst nightmare had come true.
Dad said, “April, do you want to turn around and explain to your Aunt and Uncle why your standing naked in the corner with a spanked butt?”
I focused on the word ‘want’ as if it was more important than any other part of Dad’s question. It was just wishful thinking on my part. “No thanks,” I said.
A growl emanated from behind me and I suspect it was actually Dad. He asked, “Would you rather bend over for another dose of the paddle?”
Perhaps it was just me, but it seemed as if Dad had lost all perspective on what constituted a real choice. I stepped back from the corner and turned around to face the room. Looking at my Aunt and Uncle, I felt as if my face was about to explode into a ball of fire. Despite the heat in my face and butt, the rest of me felt chilled to the bone and my heart thumped in my chest like a ticklish rabbit’s foot. It was easier to stare at the floor, but I could tell from the look on Dad’s face he wasn’t going to allow me the luxury.
I focused on my Aunt’s big nose and said, “Happy Thanksgiving. I had a disagreement with Dad about my shower time and an apology. I’m sure you can guess which one of us lost.”
Uncle Gregory stepped forward and grabbed my chin to make me look at him. He said, “It sounds like you could still use some attitude adjustment.”
I blinked innocence. “I had a great attitude this morning, but apparently Dad likes me with a little more sarcasm. I got the message loud and clear when he started swinging the paddle.”
Aunt Matilda said, “If you were my daughter you would be sucking on a bar soap.”
I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t that I was scared of her sticking a bar soap in my mouth, knowing her she probably had one in her purse. No, the real thing keeping my mouth shut was the incessant image she had planted in my head of her and my Dad having intimate relation to produce a child. It was disgusting and just the sort of thing I would have loved to point out to her, but I’d spent just long enough in the corner to listen to the stinging in my rear. And it was telling me to shut up while I was ahead.
Dad pointed at the corner again making me wonder if there was some strange magnetic attraction between the joined walls and his index finger. “Back to the corner young lady. I think you could still use a little more time thinking about your behavior before joining the rest of the civilized world.”
“Wouldn’t you rather send me up to my room?” I asked, taking a step back toward the corner.
“Corner,” Dad said, still pointing. I’m pretty sure he was the only one in the room not amused by my question. Well, other than me that is, cause I was being totally serious.
I thought about reminding Dad that my bedroom came equipped with four corners of its very own, but the audience seemed a little unreceptive to such comments. All things considered, the corner was a much more attractive location than say standing beside the couch while they all caught up on a year’s worth of gossip. I took the last step into the corner, glanced back at Dad’s pointing finger and then pressed my nose into the wall once more. Dad cleared his throat and I reluctantly raised my arms back up, placing my hands together behind my head.
They left me alone, filtering their way into the living room for tea, cocoa, sausage, cheese, and assorted crackers. Thankfully, and being as it was Thanksgiving I was truly thankful, no one thought about having me circling the room and serving the goodies. Well, I don’t think anyone thought about it and if they did no one said anything. I didn’t mention it either cause while I might say some pretty dumb things at times, I’m not that dumb.
My arms got tired again. I rested my elbows against the wall and wondered if I started counting seconds if the time would pass more quickly or slowly than otherwise. The conversation in the living room behind me was only too easy to hear, but I tuned out everything that didn’t have something to do with me. The things that did have to do with me were noticeably short and rather specific.
I was fairly certain I had an over-sized butt before, but after listening to Lisa and Aunt Matilda, I think maybe it belongs on a giant. And then there was Jeremy and our cousin Robbie who were full of Christmas cheer having seen my butt glowing so bright. I would have reminded them it was neither the eve of Christmas nor foggy in the house, but Dad probably would have taken the opportunity to whip my reindeer butt some more. Silenced reigned in my little corner and I waited impatiently for night to fall.
The timer in the kitchen went off causing a bustle of activity behind me. I blinked myself back into the moment having practically dozed off waiting for either hell to freeze over or Dad to decide I could finally leave the corner. My money was on the devil buying skis. A shocking slap to my butt erased the image of a pointy eared red devil getting ready to race down the tallest mountain ever dreamed up and made me jump deeper into the corner, crushing my breasts against the walls.
Dad said, “Do you think you can do a good job setting the table or should I just paddle you while someone else does it?”
“Can I have a minute to think about it?” I asked.
No, no, no, I didn’t say that, but boy did I want to say it. I mean really, what kind of question is that? Does anybody answer that with, “Oh yes, please, please can I be paddled”? If they do, they are crazy and while I was naked, red-bottomed, red-faced, standing in the corner in front of family and company, I was not crazy. Stupid, sure, but not crazy.
“I can do it if you’ll let me leave the corner,” I said.
Yes, that is what I really said. There was definite submission and regret in my tone and I stared at the walls practically mumbling when I said it. Dad seemed to really appreciate the tone of my voice for the first time all day. He slapped my butt again, probably cause he just wanted to see it wiggle some more and then stepped back from me.
Dad said, “Alright, then I suggest you get to it and don’t forget to use the nice napkins.”
I looked at him over my shoulder and nodded. There were a lot more than just Dad’s eyes on me and I was still none to pleased to be showing off my naked form to everyone. Red blood flowed deeply back into my face, but I pushed the thoughts of my embarrassing situation aside and turned from the corner. I nearly bolted into the dining room and began pulling out plates and silverware trying to pretend I wasn’t noticing the eyes watching me or the way my body parts seemed to sway and bounce with every move I made. It was a little harder to pretend my giggling sisters, brother and cousin weren’t actually making fun of me.
Dad entered from the kitchen door carrying the turkey on a platter, no it wasn’t me, just as I laid the last napkin to rest in its ring. Mom and Madison followed with mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberries, and dinner rolls. Don’t ask me how they carried it all with only two arms a piece, but they did. Dad set the turkey in the center of the table and started carving straight away. Everyone else, made their way around the table and grabbed a seat for their very own. I stood off to the side, hoping I might be sent to the kitchen with a small plate of food or even sent to my room with nothing at all.
Now, I’m sure Dad intended me to learn a lesson for the day about being polite to the family and keeping my wild tongue under control, but the one I was really learning quite well was that hoping was tantamount to asking for the opposite. In other words, I should have hoped for him to make me stand at the table in my birthday suit to enjoy the Thanksgiving meal. If I had, I probably would have ended up in my room instead of standing at the table trying to eat without making a mess on the table or myself. Of course if you’ve ever eaten standing up, you well know that mess just goes with the territory.
They sat, and I stood, at the table for over an hour of gorging on food and conversation. I ate, though my appetite was somewhere upstairs with the clothes I was supposed to be wearing, and despite it all the dinner was good. The biggest annoyance, beyond being naked and standing that is, was that I spent almost as much time moving dishes from one end of the table to the other and filling empty glasses as I did eating. I’m sure there were violins playing somewhere for me. When the meal finally came to its conclusion it was really no surprise that Dad wanted me to do the cleaning up all by myself.
I cleared the table of the dishes and stacked them neatly beside the sink in the kitchen. It took a few minutes for the hot water to really start flowing and while I waited, I put away the leftovers in to the fridge. With the water running it was easy to pretend I couldn’t hear everyone else having a good time chatting in the living room and that made it easy to pretend I was happier being where I was. Of course, it didn’t take much more than forty minutes or so to finish the clean up and then I really was wishing I was back in the kitchen instead of hanging out with the family.
I joined everyone in the living room and stood like a statue beside the couch where my father was sitting. When the conversation dwindled into silence, Dad turned his sights on me. “So April, have you figured out yet that I wasn’t joking with you this morning?”
There were smiles around the room, but neither I nor my father were smiling. It was a joke to everyone except us. I almost said as much until I realized that despite the audience the conversation was really just between Dad and I. “Yes,” I said.
“Good,” Dad said and stood up, “Then you’ll understand I’m not joking when I tell you that I’m serious when I tell you’ll be spending Christmas and New Years, just as naked and just as spanked if I have any more trouble from you this year.”
“But Dad,” I said, searching for an argument that didn’t sound like whining.
“Whether it happens or not is completely in your hands,” Dad said. “You can either behave like a good girl or not. Each action has a consequence. All you have to decide is which consequence you prefer, naked and spanked or clothed and happy. It’s up to you, understand?”
I frowned and nodded. “Yes.”
Dad grabbed me by the arm and gently led me away from the couch to a spot more centered between the seating areas of the living room. He turned me to face the fireplace leaving my back to the majority of the room as no one was sitting by the fireplace. His hand slapped my butt making me jump slightly.
“Touch your toes,” Dad said, releasing his hold on me.
I looked pleadingly at him. There was no escaping his intentions though and his eyes were hardened to the task regardless of what sympathy he might have felt for me. I sucked in my lips and adjusted my legs apart enough so that I could do what he asked without falling over. My eyes fluttered closed and I leaned down until my fingertips brushed against my naked toes. The silence in the room made it easy to pretend I was alone.
My inner peace lasted until Dad returned to the living room with the paddle in hand. He tapped lightly against my bulging buttocks and then slapped the paddle down hard, reigniting the simmering fire from earlier. I yelped and my eyes popped open. It was only for an instant, but in that instant I was given a humiliating upside down view of my audience. The image of my cousin Robbie grinning from ear to ear was burned into my eyes and even as my eyelids fluttered closed I could still see his face.
Dad was apparently in a rush because no sooner had the sound faded from the first pop and a second swat landed. My eyes opened again, this time with tears spilling out. I stayed down, sniffling and moaning, ashamed of myself and humiliated beyond all words at the predicament. Dad landed another swat and I howled at the burning pain emanating from my blazing butt.
The echo of my embarrassing reaction hadn’t even faded when the paddle landed again. The fire burned with unbearable ferocity and I leaped upward, hands flinging about as the only sensible thought left in my brain warned me not to rub at the source. I hopped around in a circle, flashing the family a generous view of my unguarded, bouncing bits not to mention the face of a bad girl wishing she’d been good. Dad let me go until I stopped bouncing up and down.
“Toes,” he said, pointing at them with the paddle.
“I’m really sorry,” I said sniffling and not bending back over.
Dad sighed. “I’m sure you are, but if you don’t bend back over right this minute, you’ll be even more sorry come tomorrow.”
I decided not to test him or press him for details on his threat. My burning butt became the high point of my body once more and my hair tickled my toes. The tears flowed freely from my eyes and I found it impossible not to stare back at the audience staring at me. It’s unlikely anyone could blush any brighter or hotter than I was.
Dad swung the paddle again and I cried. He gave me no time to recover, to breathe, or to anticipate before landing another swat. I cried louder. He swatted my butt again. I swayed about trying desperately to move my bottom enough that he couldn’t spank it again, but Dad managed without pause. I begged him to stop.
The paddle tapped against my bottom giving me hope that it was over. Dad said, “Are you going to listen to me the next time I tell you to get out of the shower in a half hour or less?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
The paddle cracked against my bottom evoking a pitiful yelp from my lips. Dad rested the paddle against my butt. “Are you going to get smart and fresh with me when I’m trying to talk serious with you?”
I said, “No.”
Dad swatted me again. “Are you going to swallow your pride and ego and apologize to others when you’ve done them wrong?”
“Yes,” I said.
I winced and cried out as the paddle slapped against my butt once more. Dad held it against my bottom, tapping my tender flesh. “Do you want to spend Christmas and New Years like you’ve spent today?”
“No,” I said, sniffling.
The crack of the paddle swatting my bottom echoed in the room. I sobbed and wiped at the stream of tears pouring from my eyes. Dad said, “I certainly hope not because I’m not joking about it. If you so much as stick your tongue out at your brother, that is exactly how you’ll be spending both of those days and quite likely every day in between them. I’m tired of your bad attitude and your inconsiderate behavior and one way or another it’s going to stop. Am I understood young lady?”
“Yes,” I said amid tears and sobs.
Dad said, “Now you’re going to straighten up, say goodnight to everyone and go upstairs to your room. Understood?”
I stood up and nodded. “Yes.”
“And you’re grounded for the rest of the weekend,” Dad said.
I nodded and wiped the tears from my eyes and cheeks. It was difficult turning to face everyone, but the thought that I could soon escape to the privacy of my bedroom made it bearable. There was amusement in a few of their eyes and faces, like Jeremy, Robbie, Lisa, and Jenny. The rest were more solemn and so I ignored the amused and addressed myself to the others. “I’m sorry if I spoiled your Thanksgiving,” I said and though I doubted I had, I meant it.
Aunt Matilda responded for everyone. “We just hope you’ve learned your lesson because believe it or not, we all love you.”
I forced a temporary smile for her and said, “Goodnight.”
Upstairs in my room I checked my bottom in the mirror. It was red and trembling, but there were no flames or cuts or bruises. The spanking had felt much more damaging than it was in reality. I nursed my tender cheeks with my hands and laid down on my bed. Resting my head on the pillow, I closed my eyes and committed myself to observing a white-bottomed Christmas.
The End.
