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Lessons Learned

Their stepmom didn't know that they were learning lessons aside from the ones she was teaching.
I knew that I wasn't going to be able to talk my stepmother out of giving me a spanking, rules were rules, as she so often said. She wasn't the real mother of any of us, but she had been married to our fathers and ended up with us. She always said that none of us were too old to be spanked if we were still living under her roof, so the fact that I was eighteen didn't matter. My stepbrother, Jeff, and I were the only two still living at home, and both of us were seniors in high school.

I had broken the rules against staying out late, underage drinking, and lying to her. I had committed three separate offenses that would each earn me a spanking if they had been done separately. That was not negotiable.

I actually didn't mind the thought of being spanked. I liked getting a good hard spanking, but I liked my boyfriends to do it. My only complaint with them was that none of them would spank me hard enough. I wouldn't have to worry about that, but still I wasn't looking forward to it.

Still, I was going to be spanked and there was no way out of it. Still, I had to try to negotiate the terms.

Not the duration of the spanking of course. Even questioning that would make it longer and harder. She was the sole judge of how long and how hard I was to be spanked, and whether the spanking would be with her hand, a hairbrush, a paddle, a belt or all four.

“I just don't think I should be spanked in front of Jeff,” I said.

Jeff is my step brother. He was more apt to get in trouble than me for the simple reason that he is not as adept at hiding his crimes as I am. He was spanked a lot more than I was because he gets caught so much more often. I have a better record at covering up for myself. Jeff had been spanked probably a dozen times in the last couple of years, whereas I hadn't been spanked at home in well over a year. He had watched me being spanked then, of course, just as I'd watched him being spanked every time he'd been taken across our step mom's knee.

“Jeff didn't think he should be spanked in front of you last month either,” she said.

“That's different.”

“I don't think it is,” she said.

“We had this discussion the last time you were spanked,” she said. “I think you know what the conclusion we reached that time was.”

“Yes ma'am,” I said.

“If you don't want to be spanked in front of your brother, don't do anything to be spanked for,” she said.

“Yes ma'am,” I said. Jeeze, I said I remembered.

“But not naked,” I said.

“Was Jeff naked when I spanked him last time?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“How about the time before that?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Has there been a time when he wasn't naked when I spanked him?” She asked me.

“No ma'am,” I said. “Not that I remember.”

“When I spanked him three times in a week the very month you turned eighteen he was naked every single time, with you watching young lady. When I spank you tonight he will be watching.” She said.

“Couldn't it just be over my panties?” I asked. “I'll behave from now on, I promise.”

“I'm sure you mean that,” she said.

“I do. Really mom.”

“You lied to me, Anne. Lying gets you spanked.”

“Yes ma'am, I know, but...”

“You stayed out past your curfew and sneaked in late, and you'd been drinking. You could just as easily have gotten into an accident and been killed. You know my rules on drinking.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“And you drank anyway.”

“Yes ma'am. I'm sorry.”

“I'm sure you are,” she said. She took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. I couldn't stand that for long. I felt tears forming, then pouted as they ran down my cheeks.”

“You're very good at crying and feeling sorry for yourself,” she said.

“Please, mom.”

“Stop it Anne,” she said. “Not one more word about it," she said. "You've gotten away with a lot of things lately, but you're not getting away with this."

“Yes ma'am.” I said. That was that then. My negotiations had failed. I had tried but failed.

Jeff wasn't that much comfort either. We were in the living room at eight thirty waiting for our stepmom to come downstairs and give me what for. I, naturally, was complaining about having to get a spanking.

“You know Mom,” he said. “You know how she is about the rules. Anyway, you shouldn't have been out drinking.”

“Says the boy who was caught with a twelve pack under his bed.”

“Which was half yours,” he said. “You just lucked out that they weren't hidden under your bed.”

Which they never would have been because I was way too careful for that. I didn't even know he had the beer under his bed until Mom found them there. I expected him to hide them somewhere in the garage, or under some junk in the basement. No wonder he got spanked so often.

“Anyway, I'll bet you're looking forward to seeing me naked,” I said. “I wonder if you told Mom I was out with Karen and Ted.”

“You know I didn't,” he said. “If I wanted to get you in trouble I could do it a dozen times a week.”

I knew that was true. He kept me out of trouble a lot by covering for me when I was doing something that I knew I shouldn't be doing. Neither of us ever tattled on the other. We hadn't made a pact not to or anything, we just didn't like getting each other in trouble. I knew that he wasn't looking forward to my getting spanked either. He might enjoy seeing me naked, of course. He hadn't denied that. Not that he hadn't seen me naked before. Just not lately.

He certainly hadn't seen me naked since I'd shaved down there. Neither had Mom. I was worried about that. Girls didn't shave their pussies for no reason. I could say it was for wearing a bathing suit, of course, but it was mid March. We wouldn't be going to the beach until June. at least, and not even to the lake until Memorial day. Still, she probably knew that I wasn't a virgin. She'd talked to me about safe sex often enough.

“Did Mom ever talk to you about safe sex?” I asked Jeff.

“Of course. And she had Uncle Frank talk to me too.”

“Uncle Frank?” I said. I couldn't help laughing. I couldn't imagine Uncle Frank, mom's brother, knowing anything about sex. He must, of course, otherwise why would he need Aunt Donna, or rather why would Aunt Donna need him? He wouldn't have been my first choice for a lover, but she must have seen something in him that I didn't.

“Do you think Aunt Donna is sexy?” I asked.

“What a dumb question,” he said.

“She has nice legs,” I said. “And big boobs.”

“She's my aunt,” he said.

“Only by marriage, and your step aunt by marriage at that,” I said.

“She's my aunt,” he said. As if that was that.

“I sure wouldn't want to fuck Uncle Frank,” I said.

“God, Annie.”

“Don't be such an old lady,” I said.

“You're not supposed to want to fuck him,” he said. “He's your uncle.”

“My step uncle by marriage,” I said.

There was a moment of silence. I sighed. I heard Mom's footsteps on the stairs. I waited until she was in the room before I stood though. Jeff stood as well. He has very good manners most of the time.

“Go get the hairbrush off my dresser Anne,” she said.

I walked calmly out of the room and went up the stairs, into Mom's bedroom and picked up the hairbrush off the bed. I don't believe she brought it to brush her hair. It is too perfectly shaped for smacking backsides to be a good hairbrush. There is never any hair stuck in the bristles either. Of course Mom is a very neat person. She might pick the hair out every time she brushes her hair, but if that is true, why aren't all the brushes completely hair free as well?

I returned with the brush and gave it to her.

“Go and bring a chair from the dining room,” she told me. “One of the side ones.”

I don't suppose that she chose the chairs especially for spanking purposes. They had padded seats, which were probably more comfortable to sit in while holding a grown daughter over her lap. Or a grown son, for that matter. Jeff outweighs me quite a bit, and is several inches taller. I hadn't really given much thought to the logistics of a hundred twenty pound woman spanking a hundred sixty pound six footer over her knees before. She never looked uncomfortable spanking Jeff though. Maybe she hid her discomfort.

He certainly looked uncomfortable. I knew that in a couple of minutes I'd be looking very uncomfortable myself. I'd probably be uncomfortable for days in fact. Mom hadn't sent me after a belt, which I took as a good sign. At least I hoped it was a good sign. Not that she can't spank hard enough with a brush, or her palm for that matter.

Mom had me place the chair sideways in front of the sofa facing the wall. That position meant that I would be getting my spanking with my backside totally exposed to my stepbrother.

I had been thinking about it all day but I still blushed bright red when she told me to take my clothes off and put them on the sofa. I took off my shoes first, then my socks. My fingers were shaking as I unbuttoned my blouse, removed it and folded it before laying it on the sofa cushion at the far end of the sofa from where Jeff sat. Then I took off my jeans. They were tight and I had to wiggle a lot to get out of them. I peeked and saw Jeff trying not to laugh at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

After that though I felt a little braver. I took off my bra. I hoped that he wouldn't notice that my nipples were stiff. If he said anything about it later I'd tell him that it was because the room was cold. I took my panties off last, stepping out of them quickly and walking back to stand in front of Mom. She had taken her seat in the dining room chair and was waiting for me. I had to endure a five minute lecture, despite the fact that I'd already been lectured about it.

At least she hadn't said anything about the fact that I had shaved my pussy. I had gone for the totally bare look, mostly because I was nervous about shaving my lips and put that off until I had some practice on the rest.

“Get around here and get over my lap,” she said. I did as I was told. I moved to the side of the chair and lowered myself over her lap. My feet touched the floor on one side and my hands on the other. She pushed my backside up a little to get me where she wanted me, and put an arm around my waist to hold me in place.

She smacked me with her hand. I knew that this didn't mean she'd decided to spare me the brush. She likes to warm the backside a little bit before getting down to the serious part of the spanking. I cried of course, starting at the first smack. I'd be begging soon. As soon as possible in fact. I intended to make myself appear as sorrowful as possible. I felt her put her hand between my legs and try to spread them apart. I didn't want to spread my legs. My pussy was wet, and I was having enough trouble fighting off an orgasm. I kept them as tightly together as I could in that position. She smacked my thighs.

“You've earned yourself half a dozen with the belt after,” she said. “Want to try for six more?”

“No ma'am,” I said.

“I want your ass up and your legs open, young lady. You're going to get the brush on the inside of your thighs as well.”

“Yes ma'am,” I said.

I couldn't see my stepbrother but I swear I could feel his eyes on my pussy. I wondered if he felt my eyes on his balls when he was over Mom's knees. I tried not to stare at his cock when he stood in front of Mom, but I was supposed to look, and how could I not?

My bottom was warmed up by sharp stinging hand smacks, then my thighs got a few smacks to get them ready for what was to come as well. The inner part of my thighs were the most sensitive and made me squeal the loudest when she popped them. I was crying for real by the time she started to use the brush on me.

She did an expert job of spanking my butt. She didn't miss a square millimeter. She began with a series of alternate smacks to each cheek, then concentrated on one cheek at a time until I was howling in pain and begging her to stop. Every so often she would punctuate a series of smacks with a nice blow to the thigh. I moved around a lot while she smacked away at me, but she never lost control of me or allowed me to move far out of position. Just when I thought that it was never going to end, she told me to get up.

I got up and stood there waiting for her to tell me to move into the corner for however long she deemed proper. I'd forgotten that I'd been promised the belt as well until she asked Jeff to let her borrow his. I looked around at him when he stood up to remove it and saw a very large bulge in his pants. He looked as embarrassed as I did. Mom either didn't notice or pretended not too. She made me lie on the sofa on my back and lift my knees.

“Lift your feet in the air, Anne,” she said. “I want a good target.”

I lifted my feet. My stepbrother, standing now at the end of the sofa, was in a perfect position to see my humiliation. I cried. Mom made me lay in that position for what seemed forever. Making sure that she had room to swing the belt. Jeff's eyes were looking at my girl parts as if transfixed. I could see his erection bouncing occasionally. I thought it would be funny if he shot his wad and made a stain on his pants.

Then the first blow from the belt landed. My already sore and tender bottom burst into a sea of flame, and I was completely sincere in begging Mom to let me off with just the one. I hoped she mistook my writhing and screaming as pain instead of the sexual release it was.

Six it was though. The belt fell five more time, right at the bottom of my ass, landing across both cheeks and my cleanly shaved pussy at the same time. I howled with pain each time it struck me. I loved it. I'd have to ask my boyfriend to use his belt sometime.

When she stopped I kept my legs right where they were, waiting for her to tell me to move them. I cried. I sputtered. I blubbered and grimaced. I cried some more. I wanted to put an ice pack on my ass. I didn't care if Jeff looked at my pussy all night as long as I didn't get any more smacks.

“Up and in the corner, young lady,” Mom said. “Fifteen minutes. Jeff, you time her. I'm going to read for awhile. When your corner time is done, you may dress and go to bed.

“Yes ma'am,” we both said.

The fifteen minutes seemed very long. I asked Jeff every minute or so if my time was up yet.

“No,” he said. “I'll tell you when it is?”

“It hurts,” I said.

“I know,” he said.

I cried. Not because the spanking hurt so much, but because I felt guilty about making my stepmom mad at me. She tried her best with us, after all.

Finally the time was up. I didn't want to wiggle back into my jeans. The idea of having anything tight on scared me. I didn't even want my panties on.

“When she used the belt, how did that feel?”

“It hurt,” I said. “How do you think it felt?”

“I mean where she hit you?”

“I know what you mean,” I said.

“I mean, she doesn't ever hit me there.”

“Because you don't have a there,” I said.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can't believe you got a hard on,” I said. “I'm surprised Mom didn't say anything.”

“She never does,” he said. “She never has anyway.”

“It is very noticeable,” I said. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“How does it feel?”

“It feels fine,” he said. “Maybe if you'd put your clothes on and quit looking at it, it would go down.”

“Are you going to jerk off?” I asked.

“Are you?”

“Probably,” I said.

“How do you do it?” He asked.

“The way any other girl does it,” I said.

“I have no idea how any girl does it,” he said. “Do you put your fingers in? Do you use a vibrator?”

“I don't have a vibrator,” I lied. There are things a girl should keep to herself.

“Mom has one.”

“Well I'm not going to ask to borrow it,” I said.

“I mean, with guys, we just need to move our hand up and down on it, and splat,” he said. “There aren't things like vibrators for guys.”

“There are things for guys,” I said.

“Like sex dolls you mean?”

“Yeah, and other things. Look it up online.”

“Mom's got us blocked you know.”

“You haven't figured out how to get past the parental controls yet?”

“I have no idea why I'm always the one getting spanked,” he said.

“Well you're not. Not tonight anyway.”

“Are you going to stand here naked all night?”

“Yes,” I said. “If you don't like it leave.”

“Mom will come back and wonder what the hell is going on,” he said.

“Well, I'm not getting dressed. I am in too much agony. I'm going to my room and rub some lotion on then lie on my stomach awhile.”

“I guess I'll go up too,” he said.

I gathered my clothes and started out. He watched me walk to the door then turned and followed.

“I'd never seen one before,” he said. “Not a real one.”

“What?”

“You know.”

“You've seen mine before, dumb-ass. Is your long term memory damaged?”

“No.” he said. “It was different then.”

“How?” I asked.

"Well, for one thing, it was unshaven, and I couldn't see it as well."

"Do you like it this way better?" I asked.

“Go on upstairs,” he said. “We can't carry on a conversation with you standing here naked.”

I turned and started up the stairs. Then turned to look back. He was looking at my ass.

“You're looking at my ass,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “I guess I am.”

“You have seen my ass before,” I said. “And it was the same ass.”

“I guess I just never noticed it before.”

I shook my head in disbelief then walked up the stairs. I didn't turn to look at him again, but I did put a bit of wiggle in my walk, a little more sway than necessary, and at the top step I stumbled a little and dropped my clothes. I bent over at the waist to get them, peeking back through my legs at Jeff.

“Sorry,” He said. “I really don't mean to stare.”

“It's okay,” I said.

I walked to my room and opened the door. “Are you a virgin Jeff?” I asked.

He blushed.

“You are,” I said. “Why didn't you say something. I could fix you up with some of my friends. I know half a dozen girls who'd love to fuck you.”

“Once again, that is not something you're supposed to say to your brother.”

“We're stepsiblings,” I said. “We are totally unrelated. You were already here when I showed up with my father. The first time I ever saw you was at the wedding.”

“You don't think of me as your brother?”

“I think of you as someone I love,” I said. “Like a brother, but who gets a hard on when he sees me naked.”

“So, how far have you gotten?” I asked.

“With girls?”

“No with your fist,” I said. “Of course with girls.”

“Not far,” he said. “What's third base?”

“Under the panties,” I said. “Bare boobs, lots of tongue, everything but having your cock in her.”

“Second base, I guess.”

“Second?”

“Maybe half way to second,” he said. “Go on in your room and close the door.”

I stepped through the door, then grabbed his shirt and pulled him in to the room with me.

“Half way to second base?” I asked. “Is it some religious thing with you? Are you saving yourself for marriage?”

“No,” he said. “I just don't know what to do.”

“You just forge ahead,” I said. “You just do what seems natural.”

“I always wait for girls to give me a sign, but they never do.”

“You're waiting for a sign?”

“An indication that I should move ahead.”

“How about under the skirt outside the panties?”

“Not yet.”

“So no fingers in or anything?” He had to have heard the incredulous tone in my voice. He looked embarrassed.

“No.”

“Okay. I'm setting you up.”

“Don't.”

“You have to stop being so silly. That's probably the reason you get in trouble so much. You don't have the self confidence that it takes to move from boyhood to manhood.”

“Please don't,” he said.

“Give me one good reason.”

“I don't want all your friends to know that I'm a virgin,” he said. “They're all girls I know.”

“I won't tell them,” I said.

“They'll know I don't have any idea what I'm doing,” I said.

“Put your hand on my breasts,” I said.

“No.”

I took his hands and placed them on my breasts. My nipples were stiff against his palm. He didn't squeeze, just tolerated having his hands there with mine holding onto them.

“Ever do that before?”

“A few times,” he said.

“So what comes next?

“I have no idea,” he said. “How did I get so pathetic?”

“You're not pathetic,” I said. “I need you to help me rub on lotion.”

“Annie...”

“I do. I can't reach it well enough.”

“No.”

“Come on,” I said. “It will be just like rubbing on suntan lotion.”

He was very gentle. Maybe because he tried to keep his actual fingers from touching my skin, hoping that he could keep the thin layer of lotion between his fingertips and my skin. “Inside the crack too,” I said.

“No.”

“Yes. It's sore in there too. You know how thorough Mom is.”

It took him a couple of minutes to get around to it but finally his fingers moved inside the crack of my ass. I felt the cooling lotion along the sides and gliding over my asshole.

“Can you reach the front from there or do I need to roll over?” I asked.

“The front?”

“My pussy got a few smacks too,” I said. I rolled over onto my back, spread my legs and lifted my knees to show him.

“I don't think I can,” he said.

“Will it warp you forever?” I asked.

“Probably.”

“Okay,” I said. I took the lotion from him, squeezed a bit on my hand and rubbed it on my pussy. I rubbed all along my labia, pulling my hood back.

“Can you see my clitoris?” I asked him.

“I think so,” He said.

“Put your finger on it.”

“No.”

“Just to show me you know where it is. That's a very important thing to know.”

“There,” he said. His fingertip brushed me in the right place then he quickly moved it away.

“Right,” I said.

“Have you ever had a blow job?” I asked him.

“No.”

“The important thing is not to just squirt in a girls mouth the first time she puts her lips around you,” I said. “Or when you put it in her pussy. Learn to control yourself.”

“I don't think I can,” he said. “I'm about to shoot off right now.”

I spread my outer lips and showed him the inner ones.

“It's sort of like a rose,” he said. “Petals. Your's is very pretty.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You want to get her a little bit excited before you start feeling around down there. A lot of kissing and touching first. Stop when she says stop. After awhile you can try again, but if she says stop again, stop. As many times as it takes. Sooner or later you'll touch her between the legs and she won't say stop. Then you can go for the goodies.”

“That's the problem,” he said. “They always say stop.”

“It's hard to explain to a boy,” I said. "Stop always means stop, so you should, but that doesn't mean forever, necessarily. A girl will make it clear if she wants you to give up.”

“Think of this as purely instructive,” I said. I took his hand and guided it between my legs. He didn't put up any fight, but I could feel his reluctance and did my best to ease his mind.“It's not sex,” I told him. “It's just a lesson about sex.”

“You're wet,” he said.

I had to admit I was. Not soaking wet, but moist. He touched me gently, parting my lips with his fingers, touching me softly.

“I think we better stop now,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

“Are you going into your room and jerk off?

“Probably into the bathroom,” he said. “It gets pretty messy.”

“You can put a finger in and see how it feels,” I said.

“Does that feel good to you?” He asked.

“It does,” I said.

“Are you okay with this?” He asked me.

“So far,” I said.

“Do you want me to take my finger out now?”

“I think you better,” I said. “I don't want to be your first sexual experience. I don't want to ruin you for other girls. Once a guy has me, he loses all interests in other women."

"Actually, I can sort of believe that," he said.

“How about Becky?” I asked.

“She's going steady,” He said. “With Wilson Reynolds.”

“Does that bother you?”

“It would probably be a barrier for her.”

“No,” I said. “It won't be.”

“How about Tanya?” he asked.

“You are really dreaming now, boy.”

“Wanda Craig?”

“Wanda likes you a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You'll ask her? And promise not to ask her all about it afterwards.”

“I'll ask her,” I said. “You better leave now though.”

He stood, his erection still obvious. “I could help you with that...” I started to say.

“No,” he said. “No. No. No.”

“It's not like we'd be doing anything that would get me pregnant,” I said.

“Get a good night sleep, Annie,” he said.

“You too,” I said.

It was a couple of weeks later when my friend Wanda left my room and tiptoed down to his in the middle of the night. She was back in my bed the next morning, and I kept the promise I'd made not to question her about it. Wanda, though, is the least likely of my friends to keep things to herself, so she told me all about it, and told all our friends about it.

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