Apparently they hadn’t arrived too much earlier, because as soon as I was aware of what was going on, his mother Bridget snatched the covers back off of us.
“Huh?” Brandon turned around on to his back next to me. All he was wearing were his red boxers.
“Get out of here girls.” She ordered Danni and Margot. Danni stared at me with pain and hatred in her eyes, and closed the door behind them. “So you little tramp,” she spoke angrily, “I invite you into my home, and you sleep with my innocent son?” She grabbed my arm, her curly brown ponytail swung behind her. “Get out of Brandon’s bed.” She wasn’t fat at all, but she was a pretty tall woman, around 5’9’’, and she pulled all 103 pounds of me out of the bed with hardly any trouble.
“Mom—“ Brandon started.
“And Brandon!” she snapped, cutting him off, “How could you let her seduce you?” Seduce? He raped me lady!
“Don’t worry, you will be punished later on.” She promised him. I had seen their punishments before. Spankings with a belt from their step-dad. Badly. But he would deserve every crying second of it. She took my arm again and dragged me behind her from his room to the front door. I lived two houses down from them, and she marched me painfully down the street and up my driveway in just my shirt and panties. I wasn’t sure exactly what time it was, but I knew it was early morning, around 9 or 10.
I dreaded every last step up to my front door, where she beat on it like she was the police, knowing my Dad would never believe me.
Dad swung the door open, pissed off already because of the way she had knocked, and stared at my small, barely covered body up and down.
“What the fuck?” he shouted.
She let go of my arm, practically shoving me at him. “Guess where I found your little ‘princess’ this morning?” she asked, “In my Brandon’s bed! This little girl is a tramp. A bad influence on my children, and she is not welcome in my home. I expect her to be punished properly, as I can assure you Brandon will be. And I would ask that you come by our house at 5 so you can see just how badly he is punished for your actions!” She pointed her finger at me. My mouth hung open, “I-he-“ I started to explain.
“Kylie!” My dad warned me, he took my arm and pulled me into the house and thanked Bridget for bringing me down here and told her to expect us to be there for Brandon’s punishment, and closed the solid oak door. Leaving me and him alone.
My Dad was a big guy, about 6’2’’, 240 pounds, he was a biker and used to be heavy into drugs. He was bald, by choice, and had a longish black goatee. His ears were gauged about a ½ an inch. But much unlike his appearance, he was the nicest, happiest guy you would ever meet. Always one to be smiling, or laughing or cracking a joke. I had never seen him get physically violent. I was the apple of his eye.
But he was anything but smiling right now. He was infuriated. I had never realized how intimidating his size was until right then.
“You fucked Brandon Kylie?” he asked, his deep, angry voice sent chills through my body. I shook my head. “No Daddy!” I said, “No I wouldn’t do that!”
He reached out and smacked me. Hard. I hit the door I was standing beside with a loud, thump, and started crying. I had never been hit by him before.
“Kylie Anna. You are standing in front of your Daddy in your panties. And it is not because you didn’t fuck that boy! Don’t you EVER lie to me!” He yelled. He had never been this upset with me. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were watering. “You are fourteen! You are my little girl! Not some whore!”
“But Daddy-“ I started.
He raised his hand again, as if he would slap me if I tried to speak.
“Don’t. Talk. I can’t even hear your voice. Go to your room Kylie, and I’ll think of a punishment suitable for this.”
I achingly walked to my room, wondering where my little sister Abigail was. Our mom had died 4 years prior of breast cancer, but Daddy was doing a good job of providing for us, and keeping us together as a happy little family. How could I ever prove Brandon raped me? How could I ever tell Daddy that in the first place? Especially now. He would never believe me.
Daddy came and got me at 4:55 and told me we were going to see Brandon’s punishment. I put on loose black pants and a pink shirt and held his hand all the way there. Just as a little girl would. Bridget greeted us at the door. “How nice of you to come,” She said sarcastically, and invited us in. We sat on one of their couches. And Brandon sat on the other. He was dressed in the same black pants and shirt he work last night, and didn’t look me in the eye. His shaggy brown hair fell in his face.
Eddie, his step father, came out and smashed Brandon in the back of the head with his back hand. “Don’t you be rude to guests in my house Alexander.” He yelled. Alexander? I knew he went by his middle name, so I assumed that this was his first name.
“Hi Mr. Rowe, hi Kylie, I’m sorry I inconvenienced you to have to be here today.” He said looking at each of us. His face was red with embarrassment.
“Alright, lets get on with this.” Eddie said calmly. Brandon stood up, and his mother took his place on the couch. “In this family,” Eddie began, “We believe in corporal punishment, that involves usually the whole family, but especially me and Bridget. We are very involved and hands on with the punishments.”
Bridget undid Brandon’s pants from behind, and pulled them down, he stepped out of them. “Margot?” Bridget called for their 16 year old daughter.
“Yes ma’am?” she arrived at the entrance of the hallway.
“Bring me some ginger root, I believe its already prepared in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.”
Margot’s eyes were wide, but immediately she obeyed and retrieved the ginger root.
She returned with it in a little baggy.
“Go back to your room Margot.” Eddie said.
“Ginger root,” Bridget said, “Can have a very painful, burning affect on your child while you are spanking them. It gets the point across pretty well.”
I was confused about what was going to happen. What does ginger root have to do with punishment, I wondered if my Dad was just as confused as I was.
“Bend over the table.” Eddie instructed Brandon.
He walked over to their dining room table that had been dragged into the middle of the living room, and bent over it, without saying a word. His bottom faced directly at us.
Eddie walked up behind him and pulled his boxers down to his ankles, and directed him to step out of them, as they would be restraining his hands and feet.
“Believe me, ginger root is almost unbearable. And if we didn’t restrain him he would just take it out and jump around the room.” Eddie tied his feet to the legs of the table, they weren’t too spread apart, and then tied his hands together above his head. He took the ginger root out of the baggy; it was a small tan piece of ginger, no bigger than my pinky, with a little string on the end, like a ginger tampon. He spread Brandon’s butt cheeks and began to insert the ginger slowly into his butt hole, until all we could see is the string, and then let his butt cheeks close again.
“You don’t feel it right away, but believe me, in a minute he will be crying like a baby, along with the belt spanking that I am about to begin.” He grabbed a big leather belt off of the table beside Brandon, and looped it. “You better count every single one of these or we start all over, got me Brandon?”
Brandon, who was already breathing heavy, said, “Yes sir.”
Eddie brought the belt back and slammed it on Brandon’s ass, making the cheeks bounce.
Brandon grunted in pain, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt that bad. If I knew him, he would do everything in his power to not cry.
SMACK! “One” SMACK! “Two” SMACK! “Three”
Three loud, painful sounding spanks, and Brandon started whimpering.
His legs started moving around and his butt was clenching. “Ah..mm..owwie…”
“The ginger root is starting to burn isn’t it Brandon?” Eddie taunted him. SMACK! “Fuh-four” SMACK! “Five” SMACK! “Sa-six”
“ahh ooww yes yes sir!” Brandon cried out.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Brandon counted those three off too, beginning to really cry. “Are you,” SMACK! “ever,” SMACK! “going to have sex,” SMACK! “in my house again!??!” SMACK SMACK! Eddie asked him as he thoroughly hit from the bottom of Brandon’s back, to the tops of his knees.
“NO S-SIR!!” Brandon yelled and choked, crying hard now. “Pu-please stop! Take it out!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Don’t tell me when to stop punishing you!” Eddie yelled.
He continued to beat him until Brandon stopped struggling, and was a complete sobbing mess. Still counting off the strokes, all the way to 60, but they were barely intelligible. He had bad bruises and welts forming on his bottom and legs. And he had peed himself a tiny bit.
Eddie handed the belt to Bridget, and spread his butt cheeks again, tugging on the little string and pulling the ginger root out as slowly as he had put it in. Brandon was in agony.
Eddie undid the restraints and Brandon fell to the floor, his face was as red as his ass from crying, his hair was sticking to his cheeks. “Get the fuck up boy!” Eddie shouted. “No Eddie please…” Brandon begged him, “Get UP!” He grabbed Brandon’s arm and pulled him up. He stood there, bent over slightly, with just a shirt on, and his legs, cock and balls were completely exposed. “Apologize to both of them, and thank them for watching your punishment.” He was completely humiliated now. “Su-su-sorry” He was hiccupping and still crying. “Go stand in the corner.” Eddie commanded him. He delicately walked to the corner and stood there. “He’s gonna be on display like that for the rest of the day. Everyone who comes by gets to see him. There is no covering up.”
He shook my Dad’s hand, and thanked him for coming over, apologized, and then said, “Ah, kids will be kids, but we gotta handle this stuff.”
Daddy agreed, and we left.