The spanking was one Susan would never forget. She could still remember the sting of that horrible wooden hairbrush on her bare bottom while she was held in the childish over-the-knee position with her skirt up around her shoulders and her panties down around her knees. Her mother had been determined to teach her a lesson and wielded the hairbrush with grim authority, applying it briskly and soundly to her bare bottom and thighs, while Susan kicked and shrieked with each application.

Susan was a pretty eighteen-year-old teenager at the time who had challenged her mother's authority once too often and eventually earned herself a lengthy session over her mother's knee, paying the price for her rebellious behavior with a thorough hairbrush spanking that left her bottom cheeks and thighs a bright, fiery red color that attested to the effective sting of the relentless hairbrush applications.

Now a young woman of twenty-four, Susan remembered her comeuppance over her mother's lap with a rueful smile as she drove along the highway for an important visit with her mother. She had to admit that she had been a bit of a brat and had deserved that spanking without a doubt. Now she had decided to spend a weekend with her mother to seek her advice and get some assistance in straightening out her thinking again. She had always loved and respected her mother, even on those rare occasions when her mother decided she had earned herself a sound spanking, and always benefited from her guidance and advice.

Susan had just lost another job, and she realized that she would have to learn how to follow instructions and accept criticism from her superiors. Somehow, she always got into arguments and showed complete disrespect for authority when corrected for some aspect of her work. She did not like being told what to do and even more so, did not like being told that her performance on the job left something to be desired. She always had a reason or an excuse for why it was not her fault and defended herself loudly and angrily until it got to the point where her job was terminated.

During her most recent dismissal, her manager, a career woman in her forties, explained in a very forthright manner that she believed Susan needed a good, sound spanking and wished she could actually give her the one she so richly deserved.

Then she added, "It's too bad you weren't ten years younger because if you were, I would be calling your mother and suggesting that she take a hairbrush to your sassy bottom".

Those words stayed with Susan long after she had left her office for the final time and were the impetus for her call to her mother and her weekend visit. It was late Friday night when Susan arrived at her childhood home, and she spent a few hours enjoying her mother's company and bringing her up to date on events and happenings, and, of course, listening to her mother's updates on her life. On Saturday morning, after breakfast and a cup of coffee, Susan told her mother she would like to discuss something with her.

They took comfortable seats in the living room, and after some nervous hemming and hawing, Susan tried to broach the subject of her poor behavior. She asked her mother if she remembered the times she had spanked her and if it was difficult for her. Her mother responded that she remembered very well and that, yes, it was difficult, but that she had made her so frustrated and dismayed that she needed to be straightened out.

Susan smiled. "Well, I have to admit that you did a very good job of that. The one I'll never forget was when I was eighteen, and you gave me that long, thorough bare-bottom spanking with the hairbrush. I didn't think I'd ever be able to sit down again".

Susan's mother laughed. "You really deserved that one. You were getting much too big for your breeches that time, acting rebellious and being very disrespectful. Your behavior became so arrogant and obnoxious that you needed to be taught a lesson."

"Well, you certainly taught me a lesson that day, all right," replied Susan.

Susan hesitated, cleared her throat, hesitated again, then asked,  "If I still lived at home, do you think you would still spank me?"

Her mother was taken by surprise. "Well, I don't really know. I hadn't really thought about it. After all, you are an adult and capable of making your own decisions. Usually a parent only has to worry about punishing their children during childhood, you know, to keep them on the straight and narrow. It would have to be something quite serious to deserve a spanking at your age, but, yes, I suppose I would get out the hairbrush if I thought you deserved it, even at twenty-six."

"Bare-bottomed?" Susan asked.

"Yes, bare-bottomed," her mother insisted.

Susan smiled. "That's what I was afraid of," she sighed.

"What's this all about?" her mother asked.

Susan then explained her problems with holding down a job, her lack of respect for authority, her tendency to challenge and argue with her superiors, her temper tantrums, and her generally poor behavior. She admitted she had just lost another job and decided it was time to seriously try to change her behavior.

Since leaving home at age twenty, she really had no one to answer to and did pretty much as she pleased, and it was this lack of self-discipline and disrespect for authority that got her into trouble. When she lost her last job, her manager had said she needed a sound spanking and that she only wished she could give her one herself.

"She also told me that if I was ten years younger she would have called my mother and suggested that she give me a well-deserved spanking". Susan paused. "I began to realize that she was probably right. If you knew the way I was behaving, you wouldn't put up with it for a minute. I wouldn't be such a smart-aleck or loudmouth if I knew my bottom would pay for it.”

Susan continued, ”I have been feeling so terrible and guilt-ridden about the behavior that I haven't been able to sleep well or to feel good about myself. Even though your spankings stung like the devil and made me cry like a baby, I always felt better after I had been spanked. I knew that you cared enough about me not to let me be a brat, and I regretted my behavior very much, but even through the tears I felt loved and cared for, and the tears flushed out my guilt and gave me a fresh start."

Susan's mother smiled. "And you think you need a sound spanking now, is that it?"

Susan blushed. "Yes," she replied. "I think a sound spanking will help me change my attitude and learn to respect authority again".

"Well, I still have my faithful old hairbrush upstairs in a drawer, and I'm sure it's just as effective on a twenty-four-year-old bottom as it was on an eighteen-year-old one. If you're sure that's what you want, I'll be happy to put it to good use. There's an old saying that flowing tears cleanse the soul, and that's one thing my wooden hairbrush is guaranteed to do - cause flowing tears." Susan's mother smiled. "You won't take it quietly, you know."

Susan nodded. "I know. And believe me, I'm not looking forward to it. But I've made up my mind that if you are willing to spank me then I'm willing to accept the punishment and discipline that I deserve and there's no doubt in my mind that you will administer as sound and as thorough a spanking as any mother would who wants to teach her daughter a proper lesson in manners and appropriate behavior, and I'm convinced that that is exactly the remedial spanking I deserve if I'm ever going to change my behavior successfully."

"Very well," Susan's mother responded. "When is this spanking to take place?"

Susan squirmed nervously in her chair. "I would like to get it over with as soon as possible. What about right now?"

Her mother shook her head, saying, "No. I want you to think about it for a while - to think about why you are going to be spanked and how much it is going to hurt. It's now nine-thirty in the morning. You go to your room and strip down to your bra and panties. I want you to place a straight chair in the center of your room where I can sit and take you over my knee. I also want you to set the alarm clock in your room for eleven o'clock. When the alarm goes off, I want you to go to my room, get the hairbrush from the top drawer of my dresser, and bring it to me.”

Susan gulped as Mother continued, “I know you are going to feel foolish walking around the house practically naked, but this is to be part of your punishment, the humility of it. When you hand me the hairbrush, I will follow you back to your room where I will sit down, turn you over my knee and take down your panties. By that time you will be anticipating your spanking very much, and believe me, you won't be disappointed in your anxiety about how much it will sting. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," responded Susan. "Very clear".

"Very well then. Away you go", ordered her mother.

Susan went upstairs to her room and stripped down to her bra and panties. She looked at her reflection in the full mirror and admired her body, then turned her back to the mirror, looked over her shoulder, and gazed at her panty-clad bottom, cheeks, and bare thighs. She was quite proud of her full, plump bottom cheeks and sleek, smooth thighs. She shivered as the thought struck her that the ivory white flesh of her buttocks and thighs would soon be a stinging, glowing bright red color thanks to her mother's determination to teach her a lesson.

She set the alarm for eleven o'clock and nervously paced the room, fidgeting away the time as she sat from time to time on her bed, then the chair she had dutifully placed in the center of the room, and then her bed again.

She simply could not stay still as she apprehensively waited for the time to pass. Susan was beginning to think that this may not be such a good idea after all but knew it was too late to change anything. Her mother knew that she needed this spanking and she was indeed going to get it. Susan jumped when the alarm sounded and quickly turned it off. Wearing only her panties and bra, she retrieved the hairbrush from her mother's room and went downstairs.

Her mother was seated in the living room and accepted the hairbrush with a "thank you" when the blushing Susan offered it.

"Upstairs," Susan's mother ordered, and Susan immediately obeyed, listening to her mother's footsteps as she followed her from the living room and up the stairs. Susan's blush deepened as she realized her mother was eyeing her panty-clad bottom and bare thighs as she wiggled and swayed up the stairway and into her room.

Her mother sat on the straight chair and took Susan face down across her lap, then, grasping her panties at the waistband, slowly and deliberately lowered them to the back of Susan's knees, effectively baring Susan's bottom and thighs for the unobstructed application of the hairbrush to bare flesh. Then the spanking began. Poor Susan! She had indeed forgotten just how much a hard, wooden hairbrush could sting when it was applied by the hand of a determined mother, and she was now kicking and screeching in response to the burning smacks.

Her mother held her firmly in place, and Susan's soft, tender bottom, cheeks, and thighs were subjected to a thorough, lengthy workout with the stinging hairbrush. Susan struggled desperately to escape her mother's grasp, her legs kicking frantically and her bottom bobbing up and down and from side to side in a vain attempt to evade the relentless rise and fall of the formidable hairbrush. All to no avail. Long before her spanking was over, her panties had slithered down her legs and were flung halfway across the room by her flailing feet, allowing her legs more freedom to swing and dance in rhythm with the descending hairbrush.

When her mother finally stopped applying the hairbrush, Susan was a crying, weeping, sobbing, subdued young lady who was very sorry for her behavior. She lay helpless and completely spent over her mother's knee as her fiery red bottom cheeks and thighs twitched and quivered as they absorbed the burning aftermath of the sound spanking. Susan's mother assisted her to her feet and suggested she spend some time face down on her bed while recovering from her ordeal. She then left the room.

Susan spent a few minutes dancing from toe to toe and rubbing her burning bottom cheeks, tears streaming down her face and choking back whimpers and sobs. She then threw herself face down on the bed and cried out her remorse. It was over an hour before she felt up to getting dressed and facing the embarrassment of seeing her mother downstairs.

Her mother had returned to the living room, and Susan slowly approached her, wordlessly threw her arms around her, and gave her a big hug. Her mother hugged her right back as Susan apologized for needing her mother's discipline, and they could not hold back the tears as they shared this special moment. Soon, the tension disappeared, and they began to smile at each other, each knowing how difficult it had been for the other to participate in the spanking session.

Susan made an exaggerated motion of rubbing her bottom, and her mother raised her hand in the air, threatening to apply another smack, and they both laughed. Susan's mother rose from her chair, and they put their arms around each other and headed for the kitchen for a lunchtime snack.

Susan sat in the kitchen and, although squirming uncomfortably, had a wide grin on her face. She had faced the consequences of her poor behavior, gotten rid of her guilt, and felt refreshed and more alive than she had in ages. It was like having a fresh start, and she intended to make the best of it.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, and took another bite of her sandwich.

END