The Lure of the Creek II

This story is meant for the entertainment of adults, and if you are not yet an adult close it now and move along. This is the true story of yet another time when I quite unintentionally got myself into a lot of trouble. This naughtiness results in the sound spanking of a seven-year-old girl (me!), and if that does not interest you, please read no further. Additionally, it is not meant to recommend the same consequences ought to be administered today, though spankings were more commonplace at that time.

Comments are welcome (enjoyed!) either here or by e-mail.

Creeks, Tadpoles, Snakes and Little Girls - Part 2

I was mostly clean and pretty much done in the tub when the door to the bathroom unexpectedly flew open to admit my mom. I was surprised and mad to see her just bust into the bathroom without knocking or anything, but then I realized that she was still mad and even though I thought everything was over in the basement I realized now that she wasn't quite done with me. I was at the awkward age where modesty came and went with the circumstances. Under other conditions Mom would have been welcome to enter the bathroom (though she should have knocked first and received permission!), but this time it was an unwelcome intrusion! I bashfully covered up a little as I sat in the tub with new tears springing up in my eyes.

"Finish up in there, little miss," she said as she closed the door behind her, "You are in deep trouble." I started crying and finished scrubbing as I sat in the tub and she continued to scold me. "You know better than to play in that creek by yourself and you could have drowned when you fell down!"

Uh-oh! She must have remembered her rules! "I...I...I..."

"And what if you had hit your head, hmm? Then where would you be?"

"But...but...but..."

"And with nobody knowing that you were there, what would have happened if a copperhead had bitten you, hmmm?"

"Mommy...Mommy...Mommy..."

She fired questions at me so fast that I couldn't answer, so I cried and told her how sorry I was....and I really was sorry, too!

She leaned into the tub and pulled the drain open, then helped me out of the tub just as easily as she had lifted me out of the stream. As she started to roughly towel me off the questions went from bad to worse...and these were just as unanswerable as the earlier ones were.

"How many times have your father and I told you that you may NOT go play by the creek when the weeds are high? Huh? How many?"

"Um... um... um..."

"Do you WANT to be bitten by one of those snakes?"

"No... no... no..."

"And you have been told that you are to NEVER go into that stream when you are by yourself, little lady, haven't you?"

"But, Mommyy....."

I was crying and uncomfortable as she spun me around in circles, drying off the water and rubbing several layers of skin off with that towel. I was a little bashful about being all bare with her, but it wasn't as bad at seven as it would become in later years, and I was mostly crying because I was afraid that she might give me the spanking that I had successfully escaped in the basement.

"I'm not going to spend all summer worrying about you going down there in that creek, little miss, and I am going to put a stop to this right now."

She sort of wrapped the towel around me, but didn't tie any knots in it - something which was much more significant that I'd ever dreamed at the time - and reached for the bathroom door....

"I'm sorry, Mom. I promise it won't ever happen again! It wasn't my fault! I didn't mean to get muddy! Honest, Mom, I won't ever go down there again, Mom! I promise! I really do!"

Then she said it, and I turned into a little ball of mush in a loosely wrapped towel. "You have made these promises to me before, Pamela Joan, and yet you went down there today. And you have even been spanked for playing down there before, but you went right down there anyway. So now, little lady, I am going to give you a spanking that is sure to keep you out of that stream all summer!" With that horrible pronouncement she pulls open the door and escorts a loudly bawling and contrite little girl out of the bathroom and across the hall toward my own room.

I suppose that I could have been spanked without the entire household knowing it, but I didn't care. Starting in the bathroom and continuing all the way to my room I was bawling at the top of my lungs. "Noooo, Mommy! No spanking! Pleeease!!!! I'm sorrrryyyy!!"

We entered my room and she guided me up to the edge of my bed, steering me with that big handful of towel in the back. She sat on my bed, and with a magician's skill and flourish my towel was gone! Waaah!!!!!!! She'd just seen me bare in the bathroom as I finished my bath and as she dried me off, but now that I was about to get a spanking I really didn't want to be all bare like this! I cried and tried to cover up, but it was not meant to be. Personally, I didn't like this instant and complete baring for my spanking at all, no not one bit. It was one thing to be all bare in the tub and bathroom, but it was altogether different standing at the knees of a woman anxious to spank me. Mom, on the other hand, likely thought this was a wonderful innovation. No snaps, no buttons, no zippers, no panties to be tugged down - just a quick sleight-of-hand 'Poof!' and a little one completely ready for her spanking with almost no fuss. She was probably thinking of how she could get the rest of her children reduced to a towel before all future spankings!

I was crying as hard as I was able as I begged her not to spank me, but it was too late - the jury was in and the sentence had been pronounced. In an instant I was being guided over her lap, arms and legs akimbo and as bare as I was on the day that I was born, and of greatest concern to me was being bare right where spankings took place.

"You are NOT to go down by that creek without my permission, Pamela Joan....do you understand me?" Spank! Spank!

"Yes, ma'am! Yes, Mommy....never, ever!!!"

"And you will NOT even put your big toe in that water unless I am with you, little lady. Am I clear?" Spank! Spank! Spank!

"Waaah!!!! No more, please!!!!! I'm sooooryyyy!!!!"

I was still trying to talk her out of it when she started the real spanking. In seconds I was blubbering like a .... well, like a seven-year-old girl on her mother's knee having her bare bottom spanked by a skilled, practiced, and determined woman! I was just burning up back there as her huge maternal hand landed on my tiny little bare bottom over and over again. My vigorous squirming didn't interfere a lick with the angry woman holding me tightly and spanking all over my bottom.

My loud crying and promises to be a good girl were falling on the deaf ears of a woman who had, at that time, three daughters who were still in the spankable and frequently spanked age range. My tears, promises, and crying as well as the sight of my rapidly reddening little bare bottom meant nothing to the woman who could just as easily have been across the hall spanking a bare 9-year-old or up the hall spanking an eleven-year-old girl with her panties down. She's been cried on, begged to, and promised to far too many times by my older sisters for me to have any influence on the spanking that I was receiving.

Fortunately for me, I had not yet experienced the use of a hairbrush for anything but brushing hair. My big brother knew that Mom kept a special hairbrush in her dresser for a different use, and my oldest sister had either just learned or was soon about to learn that hairbrushes are useful on both ends of a girl, but I was still hand-spanked at that time. But, with Mom's hand being bigger than my bottom and that darned towel lying on the floor, I was being given a good spanking and she really didn't need her brush to make an impression on me!

Spank! Spank! Spank! She continued as I withered and sagged across her knees crying and barely even squirming as my spanking came to an end. I rested and she rested for a few moments as I drooped on her lap and gradually gained some control back over my crying and my breathing. Then that voice penetrated my consciousness again...

"If you ever go down to that creek bank or into that creek again without permission, Pamela, I promise you that I'll take down your underpants and spank you again, only it will be a much longer and harder spanking, little girl. Do you hear me?" Spank! Spank! Spank!

"Waaah!!!!! Yes, Mommy, I promise I'll never go there again!!!"

Mom assisted me back onto my feet, and I pranced around the bed in front of her in a spirited post-spanking jig. The fact that I had no pants or panties around my ankles or knees to restrict my movement, and that I was not hampered by my transient modesty which had left somewhere between the first and second spank meant that my dance must have been a pretty accurate imitation of a nudist who had accidentally stirred up a nest of bees.

She stood and went to the door. Before she opened it, she turned and spoke again, more softly this time. "After you are done crying, Pam, you may get dressed and come downstairs again." She opened the door disappeared, and gently closed the door again behind her. I flopped on my bed, still in just my birthday suit, and had a good cry. As I drifted off into a tearful little nap I vowed to never go near that creek again, even as I wondered if there was any way that I might capture a certain tadpole and administer a sound spanking myself.

Although I did make that vow, I have to admit that I didn't keep it very well. The lure of that creek and its wonderful residents just proved to be to strong for me, and over the next several years I fell victim to its enticements several times. Though I broke my promises to stay out of the creek, Mom set a good example by keeping hers, and with each trespass she kept her promise to " take down your underpants and spank you again, only it will be a much longer and harder spanking, little girl."