| Subject: Christmas Surprise |
Author:
Fatima
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Date Posted: 05:57:19 12/27/22 Tue
As is tradition, when we can we spend a few nights at our parents for Christmas. I arrived on the 20th. My baby sister still lives at home. She has graduated, but she can't seem to get her life together and find her place. I don't mean she's into drugs or is a total bum or anything and if living at home works for her, aint nothing wrong with that. I'm not of the camp that believes a bird needs to fly the nest the moment they hit 18. I know what you're asking and the answer is yes. On occasion Mom will turn her over her knees and make sure little sister sits uncomfortably for a couple days. Aint nothing wrong with that either.
A little bit about Mom. My mom is the most loving, most caring, most giving Catholic woman in the World. Mom also rules the family with an iron fist. No matter your age, you are still her daughter and you don't argue with Mom.
All that being said, since my breakup with Marci I have been a mess. I go to work, I go home. I have almost completely abandoned taking care of myself. I don't eat anything good for me, I don't bathe unless I have to, I mope and cry all the time, I don't clean my house and a few days at my parent's was no different. I forced myself in the shower before I left and barely even brushed my hair or got out of my sweats after arriving. Family and friends were in and out and I begrudgingly said hello.
Finally on Christmas Eve my mom had had enough. While my little sister and another sister were in the house, mom dragged me into my old room and told me off big time. The old hairbrush that had put welts on my bottom more times than I've recited Hail Mary still proudly displayed on the dresser. Being a scholar of psychology myself, it's my mom who knows the cure for depression. "I have had enough of this! Now you are going to snap out of it, get in that bath and we are done with it! Do you understand me, young lady?!" So this is my mom and this didn't surprise me. She has a different form of psychology than anything I've studied and frankly I think she knows more about how the human brain works than any textbook or article I've ever read. However, what did surprise me, in fact shocked me were the next words out of her mouth. "Now you hand me that hairbrush and get over my knees, young lady!" Of course my reply was "What?! You can't be serious!" Here I am, a professional woman in my 30's, successful and respected for a decade and my mom thinks she's going to turn me over her knees and paddle my freckled butt like a naughty little girl? Well, guess who won this argument.
Just like I remember from the time I was a little girl to working hard to obtain my degree I am standing helplessly before my mom having my sweats and panties yanked down to my ankles and going across her lap getting my freckled butt paddled to a purple hue. A BDSM veteran yelling out in torment every time that mean old hairbrush stung my bottom raging fire. My face was a mess of tears and snot, my legs kicking, hands grasping anything within reach. Although I've had countless spanking relationships, both top and bottom, I'm reduced to a little girl across my mother's lap begging her to stop.
Facing my sisters for the rest of the holiday, knowing they heard every swat and yelp and plea, knowing that they knew my mature butt was on fire and I wouldn't be sitting comfortably for the next few days.
Guess what. Mom had the cure.
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