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Melinda still got spanked. Her friend Barbara could hardly believe it. But she had to, because she was there and heard it all.
They had known each other since 4th grade. Now they were juniors in high school, and Barbara was spending the weekend at Melinda's house because her parents had to leave town suddenly for a funeral. Just last night Melinda got spanked, by her father. Right here in this room.
Barbara wasn't there at the time, of course. Melinda's father asked her to go down and watch TV or something for awhile, while he "had a talk" with Melinda in her room. She was down watching TV while Melinda got spanked, right up here in this room, over her dad's knee while he sat in that desk chair over there. Barbara was looking right at it, as she lay in bed wide awake. She'd tried to sleep, but couldn't. She couldn't get those sounds out of her head, the sounds of a hard hand slapping what turned out to be bare skin. She couldn't get those sights out of her head either, when Melinda's dad had come down the stairs, face flushed, and told her she could go up to bed now. The sights of Melinda, laying face down on her bed, sobbing, still too distraught to have thought of pulling up her denim shorts and panties yet. The sight of that brick red bottom, and those scorched thighs.
Barbara didn't go in right away, she didn't want to embarass her friend any more than necessary, so she went in the bathroom and took her time brushing her teeth. When she came back in Melinda was under the covers, still sniffling and crying softly. Occasional little sobs. Barbara got into bed quietly, and listened to Melinda cry herself to sleep. Finally, she was quiet, but Barbara couldn't sleep. No way.
She turned to look at her friend, sleeping facing her, on her side. The glossy shoulder length blond hair that Barbara envied so much. The fair complexion, the eyelids closed over those pale blue eyes. The face still a bit pink, especially her nose, from her crying. Barbara saw a tear trickle down from her left eye.
Melinda still got spanked. Did this mean all of them still did? Monica, in 9th grade, and Willie, who was either 12 or 13, Barbara couldn't remember.
Melinda's spanking had been no joke. Barbara had watched an entire Odd Couple re-run waiting to go back upstairs. The whole house had been filled with Melinda's cries and pleas and howls. Those smacks and slaps were as loud as pistol shots. And he hadn't shut her door either. He must have wanted everyone to hear everything; how embarassing that must have been for her. That must be why he did it, or maybe he didn't think about it.
He was scary when he was mad like that. He wasn't out of control or anything but he had that look on his face, and he had a temper, and he had sent Melinda to her room right away. Barbara still didn't know what Melinda had done, but she did remember what Melinda's face had looked like when her father had told her to go to her room. At the time Barbara didn't understand that look; being sent to your room was no big deal. Now she understood why Melinda's eyes had gone so wide, those pale blue eyes that a lot of boys had lost themselves in, and why her lip was trembling, and why she had desperately tried to talk her father out of sending her up there.
It was funny, just that afternoon Barbara was feeling jealous of Melinda's bottom, how it filled out those jean shorts so well. Now she wasn't feeling so jealous.
She suddenly realized she'd be there the whole weekend, and it was just Friday night. She'd better watch her step; he wouldn't spank her too, would he? They hadn't gotten home all that late, or had they? He couldn't hold her responsible for Melinda's curfew, if that was what had happened. Could he?
She must have finally fallen asleep; now the sun was pouring in and she rolled away from the window to try and get some more sleep. But she vaguely heard the door open, and from somewhere Melinda's voice saying "No... please Daddy, no more", and then a chair was scraping across the floor. Barbara turned back over to see what was going on.
Oh my God. There was Melinda, long hair touching the floor. Over her father's lap again. Pyjama bottoms pulled down. Her bottom still splotched from last night. And his hand in the air. And those sounds again, but ten times louder.
Barbara watched, horrified, peeking out from the sheets. Her friend getting a morning-after bare bottom spanking. Oh my God. Melinda still gets spanked.
Was she next?