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Claire never noticed how similar the sound of her family’s minivan turn signal sounded like the ticking off a stereotypical grandfather clock until just now. ‘How fitting,’ she thought.
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Claire’s father merged onto the exit ramp that led to a interstate rest stop. She knew this wasn’t a typical stop at a typical US interstate rest-stop. This wasn’t just a stop to stretch their legs in the middle of the family’s 10 hour road trip, and it sure wasn’t just to use the restroom; it was for more than just eating our pre packed brown paper bagged lunches. The Beele family was going to do all of those things, no doubt. But Claire already understood that this unremarkable rest-stop, which looked like a hundred other similar rest-stops in the Midwest, was destined to become a setting for Beele family lore.
Claire, her mother, Amy, and father, Mark, had all disembarked from their family home more than three hours earlier and they had not yet taken a break. Normally, after this much time cramped in the family van, Claire would be begging to take a brake from the roadtrip to enjoy the fresh air and to buy some junk food at the vending machines. And all the while her father, would be trying to convince everyone to ‘hold it’ and to consider ‘how good of time they’re making’ before relinquishing to his wife’s or daughter’s desires.
That was not the case this time. Mark headed towards the parking lot, for once not checking the clock, as Claire sat in the back seat silently praying that this would be the first rest stop that she had ever visited with a totally full parking lot.
Her prayers went unanswered.
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Claire now noticed that her heart was crashing in her chest in rhythm with the van’s turn signals.
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The Beeles were primarily stopping that morning because not long ago, Claire foolishly dared to answer the rhetorical question that haunts so many family road trips: “Do you want me to pull this van over?”
Claire wasn’t sure how she got herself into this predicament. ‘Everything just escalated so quickly. And, honestly, I’m not really sure that I’m going to spanked?’ she hopefully thought to herself. ‘It hasn’t been brought up in an hour and a half. Maybe they forgot about it?’
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TOO—
The sound of the turn signal was cutoff, as the Beele’s minivan pulled into a spot. Luckily for everyone, the place wasn’t very busy at the moment. There was a family of five three spots over that looked close to leaving. A few couples out stretching their legs. And two people with dogs that were joyfully sniffing the well-trodden grounds.
Mark, currently in the driver’s seat, rolled his neck in an an exaggerated fashion, loudly cracking it a couple of times in the process.
Amy turned around in her seat to face her daughter. “You choose, Claire. In here?” Asked Amy, pointing to the van’s large backseat, behind the single chair Claire currently occupied in the van’s middle row. “Or at one of those picnic tables?”
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Earlier…
“Jesus! Can’t you guys please just shut up! I’m really tired of this! You know I didn’t want to go on this stupid trip and you’re going to spend the whole ride grilling me?” said Claire. “This is so unfair, and you know it! This is bullshit!”
Claire didn’t even have time to finish her rant before regretting it. Although she ended with “This is bullshit!” she wanted to say, “Jeez, guys, I’m sorry for my outburst. It’s just that you’re so hard on me, and you know I wanted to go camping with my friends this weekend, so I’m hoping you can just cut me a little bit of slack.” But pride and hormones can squash the best of intentions.
Her parents had spent the better part of the past hour and a half, gently, but with great concern, discussing a “C” she just got on an Physics test.
“Excuse me, Claire?” said Claire’s mom, Amy. She was remarkably calm. “What did you say?”
“I said this is bullshit! BUUUULLLLLL. SHHHHHHHIIIIIIIITTTTT,” repeated Claire. Of course what she wanted to say was, “Mom, Dad, you know I’m a good kid. I get good grades. I’ve been accepted into a good school, with scholarships. I don’t cause too much trouble. I’m tired and grumpy and hoping we can just drop this, please?”
And if she had said it, she would have been right. Everyone thought she was a good kid, with a decent head on her shoulders. She had been stressed out a lot recently. ACTs. Finals. Essays. She had a good relationship with her parents and was almost never punished.
“Claire!” said Mark, her father. “What the hell has gotten into you? And, for the love of god, please stop screaming, while I’m driving. It’s really distracting and dangerous. Now, calm down, and let’s talk.”
“UGH. I want to go home. This really sucks,” she said. “It’s not going to happen, young lady,” said Amy. “And you know it. We all agreed that we were going to take this trip months ago. It’s not your father and I’s fault that your friends wanted to go camping on the same weekend. And it’s not our fault you didn’t apply yourself on that test.”
“She’s right, Claire,” said Mark. “So just try to make the best of it.”
Claire just scowled at the back of her dad’s head, but Mark caught a glimpse of her disgusted face in the rearview mirror. “Hey, now that’s enough, Claire. Cut out the attitude.” Claire scowled with greater gusto, not even trying to conceal it this time.
Amy saw her this time. And before she knew what she was saying she said, “Claire, do you want me to have your dad pull this car over at the next rest stop to blister your behind?” She wasn’t sure where that came from—they haven’t spanked their daughter in years. She thought that would be the end of the conversation.
“Blister my behind?” Claire asked incredulously? “How old am I, eight? Don’t make me laugh. This is punishment enough.” Claire was embarrassed by the question, but didn’t think there was any way they would go through with it.
“Fine, you asked for it, young lady. Mark, pull off at the next rest stop. Our daughter has earned a spanking.”
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Now…
“You choose, Claire. In here?” asked Amy. “Or at one of those picnic tables?”
“How about nowhere?” said Claire. “Mom, really, you can’t be serious? You guys haven’t spanked me since I was, like, 12.”
“You’re not making this any easier for yourself,” said Amy. “I’m sorry that you aren’t able to go camping with your friends—I am—but you’ve been acting like a bratty 12 year old all trip. And I warned you that if your behavior didn’t improve, you’d be punished like one.”
“Now,” Amy added, “I’m trying to be nice about this, but I don’t have to be. You are going to get a spanking and that’s that. Would you prefer we do it in here, or should we do it outside for everyone to see?”
“Here,” she grumbled. It wasn’t a hard decision. It might be cramped and awkward in here, she thought, but at least it’s relatively private. The only thing worse, to her mind, than getting a spanking as a junior in high school, is to have someone else witness it, even a total stranger. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. Questions kept fluttering in and out of her head, while her stomach was doing nervous summersaults.
Claire’s mind was overwhelmed with questions and concern. “Is mom really going to spank me? Can she do this? How is this even going to work in here? Would she use her hand or some implement? Oh god—would she have to pull her pants down? Surely not, right? A spanking is ridiculous enough, she thought, there is no way they are going to humiliate her by making her expose her panties. Mom wouldn’t do that. Not any more. I haven’t been spanked that way since I was 12.” That final thought comforted her.
Then, Amy through her daughter a curveball.
“Mark, would you mind being the one who does the deed? My neck is all cramped from the drive,” asked Amy.
Claire’s dad looked a little surprised. Claire hadn’t been spanked by her mom in 5 years, but it was twice that long since Mark last gave Claire a spanking. Amy had naturally just assumed the role of disciplinarian, and was always more strict and consistent with punishment.
“Sure. Yeah. I think I can do that,” said Mark. And added, “Like riding a bicycle, right?”
“Only in that your ass ends up really sore,” Amy retorted, looking a little less frustrated than just a few minutes ago. Mark gave her a small, polite laugh. “Well, let’s just give it a try,” said Amy.
Claire couldn’t believe how matter of fact her parents were being about this. They were talking about spanking her as if it were something they did every week. She did not find their casualness to be reassuring. Not only would she be getting a spanking, but to make the whole thing even more humiliating, it would be her dad spanking her. The embarrassment could kill her. On the plus side, she considered, is now there is a zero percent chance she would get spanked on anything other than her cotton shorts. Admittedly, the were pretty flimsy cotton and they didn’t exactly cover 100 percent of her butt, but it would still be infinitely better than getting it on her panties. This thought still reassured her, but less so than earlier.
Mark got out of the passenger seat and her turned to his wife and said, “I’m going to stretch my legs out for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Amy replied, “Sure, honey, take your time. I’ll get Claire ready.”
Alarm bells went off in Claire’s brain, “What do they mean ‘ready?’” she thought to herself. “Ready for what?”
Amy turned around in her chair so she could survey the backseat. “Hmm,” contemplated Amy. “We’ll do it in the backseat,” she said pointing to the wide back bench of seats, behind Claire. “That should give you enough room to lay over your father’s lap without squishing you two too badly.”
‘Shit,’ Claire realized she was in for another unpleasant surprise. ‘I’m going to have to lay over his lap and be spanked like a 12 year old brat.’
“Mom, c’mon. You’re not really going to make Dad do it, right, be serious,” Claire protested.
“I’m not making him do anything, Claire. We both agree that you have been acting way out of line for too long and we’re tired of it. We can’t just ground you. It would ruin the whole trip for everyone. We’re going to take care of this right now. Do remember when your father and I would spank you when you were younger? Your behavior would and attitude would instantly improve.”
“But I’m not a kid any more!” Claire interrupted. “And dad hasn’t done that since I was a little, little kid!”
Giving her daughter a disapproving look, Amy said, “Honey, listen. If I have to explain this again, your punishment will be even worse. Your father and I warned you that if you’re attitude didn’t improve that we would spank you like you were in the fifth grade again. And instead of listening, you sassed us. So we now have no choice but to blister your rear end, just like we promised.”
“Momma? Really?” Claire asked, starting to look a little less defiant and a little more anxious.
“Go ahead and take your jeans down, Claire, while we have the space in here before your father gets back,” said Amy.
“What! What are you talking about, mom?! I’m not taking my pants off. Are you crazy? Daddy can’t see me in my panties!” Claire was now panicking. She had never even considered the possibility that her parents might request something so ridiculous.
“That’s enough with the attitude,” Amy fired back. “And, yes, you’re darn right I mean it. I told you would be spanked the same way you were when you were younger. And I’m pretty sure we spanked you on your little panties, didn’t we? Pants down, Claire. Please don’t make me ask again.”
Claire knew her mom meant business; she recognized the look in her eye. Even still, she couldn’t help but plead. “But Mom. Listen. Please. I’ll pull my pants down. No problem. You can totally spank me on my panties. But just you. Please don’t make me take down my pants in front of dad. I will die from embarrassment. Will you do it? Please?”
“One,” was all Amy replied.
“Mom…”
“Two.”
“Okay. I’m going to pull them down. See?” Asked Claire. She had only pulled down her blue shorts enough to reveal the wide, light green waist band of her panties and a few petals of the large flowers on the white cotton material beneath.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Amy said warningly. “Shorts down. All the way to your knees. If I have to ask again, they’re coming off.”
“Alright. Fine.” Claire said, with the word ‘fine’ being exaggeratedly pronounced by a combination of heavy vocal fry and petulant whining. Claire now tried to pull down her shorts in earnest, but quickly found the van’s cramped geometry made getting her shorts off easily difficult to do. There wasn’t enough room to gracefully disrobe in her current seat. The front seats and the plethora of luggage made getting the necessary leg room quite tricky.
She held her hands in the waistband of the van as she tried to find a place to peel them down without having to bend over or stretch in some particularly revealing way. It wasn’t an overwhelmingly complex task, but Claire’s brain was operating in near panic mode, impairing her simple decision making abilities.
Noticing her daughter’s anguish and with a desire to get the process moving, as the van was starting to warm up with all of the activity, Amy solved Claire’s problem by simply pantsing her daughter. She was surprised at how easily she did it. Claire was half kneeling, half crouching in the van, looking a little frantic, so she just reached back into the back seat and grabbed her shorts and yanked them down in one motion to just below the prominent gap in her thighs.
At that very same moment, Claire’s shorts weren’t the only thing sliding. Mark, without thinking, pulled open one of the van’s expansive rear doors, sliding it open to reveal the chaotic and awkward scene to anyone who happened to walk by.
For a moment, they all froze. Mark was briefly stunned as his mind struggled to grasp what he was seeing. Claire was facing him in a crouched stance. Her blue cotton shorts were pulled about halfway down her thighs. She had both her hands fanned out in the front of her high wasted white floral print panties, trying to protect her modesty. Amy was now located halfway in between the front seat, and the middle of the van, where Claire was, and was obviously the one responsible for the state of Claire’s undress.
“Oh!” They all finally exclaimed in near unison, as if they had rehearsed it. “Daddy! Close the door! People can see us!” Begged Claire, her shock starting to give way to embarrassment, as she realized that anyone nearby could also witness this supposedly private moment.
“Honey, go ahead and hop in the back seat,” Amy said, as she moved their various belongings around, trying to make a clear path to the back.
“Please hurry, dad!” Claire implored, as she continued to try to shield the view of the front of her panties from any potential onlookers.
“I think you may regret asking me to hurry in a few minutes, young lady” Mark said, only half joking. “Boy, it’s hot in here,” he added as he took his seat on the bench. It was now uncomfortably hot in the van. The struggle of getting everyone situated had only made it warmer and muggier. The three of them were already sweating, an no one had even been spanked yet.
“I’ll get the door,” Amy said, who was now nearly totally in the back seat.
As the door slammed shut, Mark said, “Okay, Claire-bear, it’s go time. Get over her and lay across my lap,” said Mark in a calm and almost reassuring voice. Mark was sitting on the middle seat of the backseat bench, and Claire had clumsily managed to maneuver to his side, shorts still at half mast.
Claire knew she should just drape herself across his lap and get the whole ordeal over with, but she was unable to stop herself from her desperate stall tactics. “Please, daddy. I promise, promise, promise, I will be so good for the rest of the trip. I’m sorry for my bad attitude!”
“Claire!” Amy said. “We went over this! Your father is going to blister your butt right now. I don’t want to hear any more whining!”
Claire continued to address her father, “Can I at least pull my shorts up? Please? It’s so humiliating showing you guys my pant—underwear!”
“You leave your shorts right where they are!” Amy told her. Then, she added, pulling at the front of her shirt to fan herself, “Damn, it’s sweltering in here. Enough. Over his lap. Now.”
“You heard your mother. Over,” said Mark.
“But it’s too hot in here! What if you just waited until we got to the hotel tonight? We can do it then, I promise! Please?”
“She’s right about one thing, Mark,” said Amy. “It is too damn hot in here. One of us is bound to have a heat stroke before this is over with.”
“Thank you—“ Claire began, looking suddenly hopeful. “But,” Amy interrupted. “I can just turn the AC on. No need to wait until tonight. Nice try, though.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Mark. “There was a really nice breeze when I went to go stretch my legs earlier. Instead of wasting gas using the air conditioning, why don’t I just crack open these doors and get a nice cross breeze going. Would you mind opening up both these back doors, honey?” Mark asked his wife.
“Great idea!” Amy agreed.
“What? Daddy! No! You can’t be serious! People will see—“ Claire was suddenly cut off as her father grabbed her by one of her wrists and firmly pulled her over his awaiting lap. Just then, Amy opened both of the sliding doors in quick succession, which had the immediate effect of cooling the van by several degrees.
“Wait! Please!” Claire much more quietly pleaded, again, as her father further lowered her shorts and readjusted her butt on his lap. “Someone will hear—or see us! Close the doors, mom! I’ll do whatever—“
Whap! Whap! Whap! Mark ignored Claire’s protests, which were now starting to get genuinely tearful, and finally commenced with his daughter’s punishment.
“No! No! Wait! Please, please, close the doors!” Claire said, her face damp with both sweat, and now, tears.
Whap! Whap! Mark continued to ignore his daughter, and continued the punishment. His swats were crisp and sharp; painful but hardly bruising. He focused his fire on the area of Claire’s behind at the very bottom of her white, floral print panties.
“The more fuss you make, the more attention you’re going to draw to yourself.” Said Amy, watching her daughter’s plight with great interest. “We’re not closing these doors.”
Whap! Whap! “If we close those doors again, we’ll all be as hot as your backside!” Mark joked.
Claire either didn’t hear her father’s jibe or didn’t find it very amusing, as she started to openly cry.
Whap! Whap! Whap!
“I’ll be good! I’m sorry! Please stop, daddy!” Her sobs got louder as her bottom got pinker. She was vaguely aware that her theatrics had probably drawn some attention from some fellow travelers, but her concern for privacy had been totally supplanted by a bigger concern by the growing pain in her behind.
Whap! Whap! Whap!
From somewhere outside, a stern voice said, “See that, Madelyn, I told you that aren’t too old for me to wear your ass out. Remember that.” A girl replied, “Yes, sir.” As they walked away, the stern voiced man added, “Thanks for the inspiration!”
“You’re very welcome,” Amy yelled in reply to the passerby. “I’d listen to him, Madelyn!” She added.
Claire sobbed harder.
Whap! Whap! Whap!
And then there was a trio of extra loud, much harder swats. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! These extra hard spanks caused Claire to lose what little composure she had left. She involuntarily kicked her legs, which sent her shorts flying, not just off her legs, but clear out the van door and onto the parking lot. She bawled, now totally unconcerned about onlookers or eavesdroppers.
Pat. Pat.
Mark gave each of Claire’s pinkened cheeks a gentle pat to signal that it was over. “Alright Claire-Bear, it’s over. You survived, kiddo.”
That was it. It was over. The whole ordeal took less than three minutes, but each of them would remember it as much longer and more drawn out than it actually was. It would be the most memorable moment for each of them on that whole trip and it hadn’t even truly begun.
Pat. Pat.
He gave her bottom another pair of reassuring pats. Claire finally began to disentangle herself from her father’s lap. She used one of her hands to help gain her balance and to wipe the tears and sweat from her face. The other hand was down the backside of her panties furiously rubbing, as if she were waxing a car.
“Honey, will you get the doors? And start the AC.” He asked his wife.
“Ahh! Show’s over!” Someone shouted from somewhere.
Ignoring the comment, Amy closed the doors and started the AC as requested. Mark then stood/crouched next to Claire and he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big, tight hug. “So,” he said, “I know we’re already here, and we all need a break. But, you know, I think we’ll all be a little more relaxed at the next rest stop, if you know what I mean. I think it’s only about 45 minutes from her. Does that sound good to you guys?”
Amy had now moved to the rear of the van and joined in on the embrace. Claire smiled slightly, with tears still in her eyes, and nodded her head. “Yeah,” she sniffed. She then extracted her hand from down her underwear to fully return the hug to them both. “I never want to come her again.”
“I’ll drive!” Amy said as she clambered her way back to the front seats. “You two can nap. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
As the van began to pull out of their parking spot, Claire remembered the shorts that she had kicked off a few minutes ago and were now sitting on the hot asphalt.
“Wait, mom! Just a second! I need to grab my shorts. They’re still in the parking lot.”
“Oh, right. Hmm. We can go back for them,” she asked as she turned on her turn signal. “Do you want me to pull this van over?”
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“No ma’am!” Claire answered.