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| Subject: The Tulip Stamp | |
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Author: Marek |
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Date Posted: 00:36:53 10/15/16 Sat The Tulip Stamp I ring the doorbell, although I don't really want to. Still, I know it's the best way. Unpleasant, but necessary. It's Katie who opens the door. Of course she is. "Hi, Tess," she says. "What brings you here?" I sigh and pull the note from my bag. "Is your dad here?" She nods. "Yeah. You want the stamp?" "Yes," I sigh. "Dad!" she shouts inside. "Tess is here for a stamp!" It doesn't take long before her father comes down. He's a freelancer and usually works from home, which makes him an ideal candidate for stamp-giving. "Hello, Tess," he says. "So, what is it about now?" "Well..." "Oh, and come in. I guess you don't want to do this on the porch? Of course, if you do, I'd be happy to oblige." "No," I sigh. He's a good guy, but I'd just wish he didn't always make me the butt of his jokes. Bad choice of words, I know. Once inside, I give him the note from school. It's not that bad, but also not that good either. He reads through it once. It's really not that important what it says. "All right, how many stamps?" he asks. "J-Just one," I say. Really, there's no need for more. He nods, and he just opens his mouth to say something when the doorbell rings again. "Dad! It's for you again!" shouts Katie. Wow. I knew he was busy, but that busy? This times it's Carlson twins. Two girls, ten years old. Babies, really, compared to my twelve. I trail to the door after Katie's dad. "Yes?" He sounds grumpy, grumpy because he got interrupted. Which is really a bad idea for all involved. Grumpy means worse for me. Worse for them, too. Both girls look absolutely identical, down to their clothes. But that's okay, I think, not like this calls for any distinguishing. "Mom sent us here," says the right one. "Because we were brats, she said," says the left one. At this point, you might be wondering whether I mean the "right" and "left" one from my point of view or from theirs. Trust me. It doesn't matter in the least. "She wanted to bring us here," says the right one, "but we managed to talk her out of it." "We're big enough to get stamps on our own," says the left one. "And the note?" asks Katie's dad. They sigh and pass it to him. He reads through it. "Hmm, sounds like you will need two stamps each." I wince. I'm glad my note only requires one stamp. Katie's dad moves from the door and the twins come in. They seem more excited than scared. It's the first stamps they get on their own, without a parent present, so I suppose that's a milestone. As for me? I passed that millstone a long time ago. I'm not a baby like them. Which means that I'm not excited at all, and more than a little scared. It's just one stamp, I tell to myself. It's not that bad. "So, um, you're busy today, huh?" I say. Why the hell am I trying to make small talk with him? "Oh, it's not that bad," he smiles. "I had seven of you lined up once. But I suppose we'd better get to it, or it's just going to accumulate." Me and my big mouth. Yeah. I'm worried that now that the twins are here, he's going to take me last. I don't like when that happens, I think it's better to get it done with, but fortunately, Katie's dad has strict "first come, first serve" policy. Unfortunately, he takes us all into his study, and that means that the twins will get to watch me. I hate being watched. I get all self-conscious. I run the mental checks. Am I presentable? My school uniform is prim and proper, and I've changed to my reserve panties when I decided to get the stamp from Katie's dad. No reason to put it off. But still I have to watch, together with the twins whose excitement starts to slowly drain away, as Katie's dad moves the straight-backed chair in the middle of the room. He always uses that chair, and he only has it in his study for that purpose; he normally uses swivel office chair when he works. He opens his desk drawer and takes out the stamp pad. We all gaze at it. I need that stamp. It will make talking to my own Dad much easier. "Uh, Dad, I got a note in school today, and you have to sign it. But I already got it stamped!" Every dad on the block has his own stamp and Katie's dad chose the tulip. I once asked him why and he said that tulips are red, which I think is really dumb reason. First of all, tulips come in all sort of colors, and also, all the stamps are red because they are done with red ink. But still, I kinda like tulips. I tried getting my stamps from Caroline's dad for a while, but his stamps was a teddy-bear. For an almost-teenager like me, that was too embarrassing. "All right, Tess, let's start," he says. My knees get weak and my stomach gets butterflies. My desire to get it done with is completely gone. I'd give anything for those two snotty brats to get their stamps first. But I still walk towards Katie's dad and that chair. He sits down. I reach under my uniform skirt and hesitate. "Bare?" I ask, as always. "Bare," he says, as always. I slowly take my panties down; he always dashes my hopes. At least I have a skirt; the twins just have shorts, which means that they will have to pull them down. That's worse. I'm almost positive. Yep, don't worry about having to pull your panties down. Could always be worse. Right? I only pull them down the bare minimum -- pun intended -- and then take a deep breath and go over his lap. Last week, I went swimming at the lake with my family and I didn't want to get in the water because it was too cold. But my brother went up to the big rock and dived to the water from there. I asked him "How could you do that? It's so cold!" and he told me that the longer it takes me to get to the water, the longer it feels cold. "If you just dive in, it feels REALLY bad for a second," he said, "but then it feels fine." I was too scared to try it, but his advice comes in handy for me today. Going over the lap is the scariest part, because it's the last thing you have to do yourself. But I did it, I took the plunge. I hope the twins are impressed. I steal a look at them, and they are both watching me intently. Yup, that's me -- reduced to an afternoon entertainment for a pair of baby brats, like I was a cartoon show. Katie's dad adjusts my body a bit for maximum effect. His hand rests on my bare bottom, which means it's going to start. He doesn't say things like "Are you ready?" -- some dads do, and I hate that. I'm lying there, with my bare bottom in the air, and they ask me if I'm ready? No, I just like that position because it's a good way to get a tan -- of course I'm ready! By the time he asks and I hesitantly answer -- because you are always hesitant at this point -- I could be already halfway through my... Gulp. ...Through my spanking. Nobody uses the word, of course, not nowadays, we all call it "earning stamps", but it's a spanking and there's no point denying it. I press my lips together to keep quiet. It's hopeless, of course, but I want to impress the twins. They are sitting there, watching, wondering how much I will cry. And how soon I'll start. Well, I am going to cry a lot, I know that from the past experience, but I can postpone -- somewhat -- how soon it starts. I focus on not crying. And then I stop feeling the hand resting on my bottom and that means it's starting and the twins are watching and I panic and give that weird yelp and... SMACK! The hand falls, it's starting and I yelp again, and again when the hand falls for the second time, third, fifth, and by tenth time all my focus is shattered and I start wailing like I was ten again, or even worse, eight, it's like each swat is taking away a month or two, soon I'll be reduced to a baby who knows nothing but bawling. Not a good perspective, but then again, it's not like I can do anything about it at this point. When, after an eternity, the spanking comes to an end, I spend another full minute lying across Katie's dad's lap and crying. He always leaves me lying there as long as I want, which is really nice from him. Some dads stand you up as soon as you're done, and sometimes you have to spend some time in the corner. Katie's dad spanks hard, but that's all he does. I eventually stand up because I need the stamp, this is all for the stamp, and Katie's dad has to use his desk for that. I watch him go there, taking his tulip stamp and pressing it to my note from school. That's it, I survived, and I have the stamp to prove it. But my bottom burns and I don't really feel like a survivor right now. I check my panties and note, with satisfaction, that despite sliding down somewhat they are still above my knees, which is a personal victory. It's embarrassing when you kick too much and they slide way down and then you have to pull them up so you could walk without stumbling. I slowly walk to the door and out without saying a word; I'm still sobbing so that would be hard, but Katie's dad has a rule that once you get your stamp, you can go to the bathroom and "get presentable", as he says. In the corridor, I meet Katie who pretends she wasn't eavesdropping on my spanking. "It was pretty bad, huh?" she says. There's sympathy in her voice. Spanking is like a hurricane, you are never sure when it hits you, and it's important to be there for your friends when they get spanked. There's no teasing. I just nod because I still don't trust my voice, and dive into the bathroom. I spend a few minutes there, washing my face and adjusting my clothes. When I finish, I don't look like a girl who just got spanked -- at least I hope so -- but no amount of washing can't make me not FEEL like one. When I re-enter Katie's dad's study, it seems that they were all waiting for me. In the time I was gone, Katie's dad could have easily give the twins their stamps -- or at least one of the twins -- but they watched my spanking so it's only fair that I get to watch theirs. Katie's dad is all about the fair. I notice, with some satisfaction, that the twins look really scared now. Their mom asked for two stamps, after all, which means they are going to get it worse than me. Katie's dad doesn't say anything to me, but he turns to Katie who is right behind me and says: "Katie, honey, bring me your hairbrush, would you?" I shiver when I hear it. Last year, me and Katie watched a horror movie on her laptop, it was about some guy who killed people with a chainsaw. We were supposedly too young for it, but we weren't scared -- we laughed because it was just so goofy. They should make a horror movie about a guy with a hairbrush. THAT would be really scary. And the twins think so as well because once the word is uttered, they both erupt in sobs. But they don't try to talk him out of it. It shows they are growing up as well. It would be meaningless to try, they would just embarrass themselves even further. Katie returns with the hairbrush. It's a sturdy, wooden one, not too big, but it's clear that hair care wasn't the only thing taken into account when it was bought. Katie places it into her dad's outstretched hand, and he sits right back on the straight-backed chair. "All right, come here," he says. Both twins take a hesitating step forward, then stop. Each of them tries to let the other one go first. For a second I imagine Katie's dad taking them both across his lap together and spanking four little bottom cheeks at once, but I doubt that would really work. Some things, the twins can't do together. The twins take another hesitating step, still unisono. "Oh, for the love of... Tess, could you pick one, please?" he says, and so I grab the twin on the right -- I'm standing behind them so their right and my right is the same, for those of you who need the details -- and push it forward. Then I put my hands on the other twin's shoulder to keep her in place. The twin I doomed is now crying for real. I started crying easily this time, but I'm still proud that I managed to put it off until the spanking actually started. But these two are just babies, what would you expect? The twin I'm holding is shivering under my hands and I feel sorry for her. But I can't say anything that would make it better -- she's now going to watch as her sister gets the hairbrush, and then she will get the same treatment, it's just a fact and there's no silver lining to it. The doomed twin is now standing next to Katie's dad's lap, seemingly forgetting what it is that she's supposed to do, even though I was magnanimous enough to give them a demonstration not even ten minutes ago. Finally, Katie's dad breaks the silence. "Shorts down, panties down, over my lap," he says. But the twin can't do it, she's just standing there, crying, and so he eventually sighs and pulls her towards him. He puts his arms around her and gives her a hug and she puts her arms around him and cries and cries. That scene looks like she has been already spanked. And while this is going on, my twin also starts crying and so I turn her around and give her a hug too. And she's holding onto me tight because that way she won't have to look, she won't have to see what's in store for her. I hold her while I watch as the other hug comes to an end. Katie's dad and the doomed twin apparently came to a silent understanding and she holds onto his shirt as he unbuttons her shorts and takes them down. I see her panties for a second -- baby panties with a pink rhinoceros, probably some cartoon character, though I'd peg rhinoceros as more of a boy thing -- and then they get taken down as well and she's soaring through the air and she's gently deposited in the lap. I notice that Katie's dad leg-locked her, he didn't do that to me and I feel proud that he didn't deem it necessary. Katie's dad seems to be in a sort of a pickle now because he put the hairbrush away when he went for that hug and now it's on the ground and he can't reach it, not with the twin over his lap, and I can't help because I'm holding the other twin, but fortunately there's Katie who comes in from the door, picks up the hairbrush and hands it to her dad. He gives her a look like he's not too happy with her, and she shrinks back to the door. He's still giving her the look, and she closes the door and stays in the corridor, though I don't doubt that she's not going anywhere far. I see Katie's dad raising the hairbrush and the doomed twin starts crying louder and I hug my twin tighter and I just wish I could cover her ears. But I doubt even industrial ear protection could do anything about this noise, about the smacks of wood on bottom and desperate crying of a naughty girl earning two stamps at once. But there's a way to take her mind off her sister's spanking, and that is to focus her on her own. I reach for her shorts and start taking them down. She stiffens, but she doesn't resist. "Katie's dad is strict, but fair," I say. "You know that, don't you?" She nods, her chin rubbing against my chest. I reach for her panties. "And you know that you need this?" Another nod, but more hesistant. I pull her panties down over her bottom and she cries out a little. Crying and blubbering of her sister who is getting the hairbrush sounds distant; this is a moment for the two of us. I pat her bare bottom and she holds me and her tears are soaking my uniform blouse. I watch the hairbrush rise and fall and I time my pats to have the same rhythm; they don't hurt, but it calms her down somewhat to feel them at the same time her sister feels hers. And when the hairbrushing finally ends, I decide to break Katie's dad's rule. I took the hand of my twin and lead her to him before she can realize what's happening or change her mind, and then I take the twin who just got spanked and lift her from his lap even though she's not ready to stand up. She's not, but I'm there and I'm holding her and giving her a hug and Katie's dad knows what I'm doing; the moment I release the other twin, he takes over and raises her across his lap, and by the time I lead the spanked one away, the hairbrush already starts to do its judiciary work on the bare bottom of her sister. Now, when I don't have to pep-talk the girl, I can focus on her spanking more. It's not that long since I earned two stamps from Katie's dad as well so I know how much the hairbrush hurts. There's no point in describing it -- if you haven't felt it, you won't understand. When the second twin's bottom was reddened to order, I picked her up from Katie's dad's lap once again and I held both of them. "Tess, could you, um, take them to the bathroom?" said Katie's dad. He looked a bit embarrassed, though really, what did HE have to be embarrassed for? We were the one who got spanked! And so I took the girls to the bathroom. I waited outside for them to get refreshed, and when they went out, they were still crying a bit, but they had their shorts back on and I could no longer detect which one of them was spanked first and which second. That's probably how they preferred it. We went back into the study. Katie's Dad gave the twins their mom's note which now had four tulip stamps on it in a square. They took it and they even managed to thank him. "Thank you," I said as well. "Oh, it was no problem," he said. "But try to not end up back here too soon, all right?" That's one thing I don't like about adults -- they seem to think that behaving is easy, but it's not. Misbehaving, that is easy, and it's so easy you can do it and not even know it. And then you just suddenly see that you've made a mess of things and people are scolding you and, well, it usually ends with you handing a stamped note back to them. I walked the Carlson twins back home -- they live just a short way from my house -- and when we get there, they run towards the door where their mom is already waiting for them, and they hug her with one hand each while they vigorously rub their bottoms with the other; that's mostly for effect, I think, because the worst sting has already subsided, just as it subsided for me. * * * "Uh, Dad?" I say after he comes home from work. "Yes?" I try to say something, but I can't find the right words and so I just give him the note. He reads it. "A tulip again, I see," he remarks. I give him an awkward shrug. "Yeah. I like tulips." He smiles. "I will have to thank Katie's father for all the good work he's doing with you." My Dad has a stamp too. But I don't even know what it is. I never got one from him. He's my Dad. Mine. He's for hugging and for helping me and being on my side. He's not for spanking my bottom and giving me stamps when I goof up. There's lots of other dads for that. Well, Katie's dad, mostly. One dad for hugs, one for spanks. I believe that's how it should be. The doorbell rings and I open the door. "Hi, Katie," I say. "What brings you here?" But I only say that as a formality because I can see the note in her hand. Is it because of her eavesdropping today or were there other problems? I don't know and I don't ask. Sometimes we show each other our notes, but not often. It's a personal thing. "Is your dad home?" she asks. Hard to say whether she hopes that he's here or that he's not. "He is," I say and lead her in. And so now I'm lying on my bed, on my stomach because my bottom still smarts, listening to the sounds of my Dad spanking Katie. It's a weird feeling and I wonder if Katie feels like this when she listens to her dad spanking. I know she's getting his hand on the bare, just like I did, and I know that she deserves this spanking, just like I did. Tomorrow's Saturday, so no school. Katie asked Dad if we can have a sleepover and he said yes -- just before he told me that I should go to my room and wait for Katie. He doesn't have a study room like Katie's dad, so he spanks in our living room. I take out clean PJs since Katie didn't bring her own. The sounds of spanking from the living room finally stop and a few minutes later, Katie hobbles into my room; she's clutching her bottom with both hands but she's not crying anymore. I give her the PJs and then I pull down my own a bit and we compare. "You're barely even red," she says. "Oh, trust me," I reply, "it was much worse before." "I hope mine will fade until morning," she said. "We could go swimming tomorrow." I nod. "We could." "So, are you finally going to jump off the big rock like you said?" she teases me. But I nod. "You know, I think I finally found the courage." After all, if I can earn a tulip stamp without fuss, like I was already a teen, what's to fear about taking a dive into cold water? [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
| Subject | Author | Date |
| Re: The Tulip Stamp | gentbb | 10:05:14 11/02/16 Wed |
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| Re: The Tulip Stamp |  Sigrid | 10:34:31 07/01/20 Wed |
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