Work Text:
Rachel’s feet pounded the pavement, heart racing, mind whirling. Why had she done it?
It had been a stupid, stupid decision on the fourteen-year-old’s part. She knew better! But when she’d passed the newly-poured driveway at mean ol’ Mrs. Thornton’s house, she just couldn’t help it.
It was easy to imagine herself on Hollywood Boulevard, outside of The Chinese Theatre, throngs of screaming fans and blinding flashes from hundreds—no, thousands—of media cameras, all focused on her, waiting with bated breath for her to sink her hands into the wet cement.
It was right there, and it was calling to her. And when her eyes spotted a nearby stick that was just perfect for etching her name, it was like The Universe had spoken. Who was she to ignore a sign like that?
Rachel had only meant to place one little handprint at the end of the driveway near a big, overgrown bush of Mrs. Thornton’s. Nothing terribly deep, but enough to be seen if you knew what you were looking for. The bush would cover most of it, she was sure. Next came her signature. She’d kept it simple: Rachel with a little freehanded star. She’d perfected the shape years ago, having always had an affinity for gold stars.
The teenager was just sitting back on her heels, admiring her work and thinking she should probably capture a couple pictures of her little masterpiece, when a harsh voice startled her.
“Hey! Girl! You there! What are you doing?! Get away from my—”
Rachel had lost her footing and was falling forward. Her hands shot out without thought, sinking into the wet cement. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself up, her hands digging deeper. Despite the pounding of her heart and the icy dread of trouble overwhelming her, Rachel had a bit of relief to spare when she saw her intended handprint and name were left undisturbed.
“YOU LITTLE BRAT ! LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY NEW DRIVEWAY! YOU COME HERE, GIRL! I KNOW YOUR MOTHER! I’M GOING TO—”
But Rachel hadn’t waited to find out what the mean old neighbor was going to do. Scrambling up, the girl had taken off at full-tilt towards home. It was only now, as she raced up the front steps and onto the porch of the little Craftsman-style house, that she realized she’d left at least one other print in the wet driveway. Her right boot was covered in cement.
Rachel moved to kick her boot off, not wanting to add more trouble for traipsing through her mother’s house with that mess, when she noticed spots of cement splattered down her coat. She then got a good look at her hands and gasped. They were covered too! Rachel was going to be in so much trouble!
Her stomach felt like it too had fallen in cement, hardening into a small boulder in her abdomen as she stood in socked feet outside the front door. She couldn’t open it on her own. Biting her lip, the girl used her elbow to press the doorbell. She pushed the little button again and again, urging her mother to hurry up.
***
Meanwhile, Shelby Corcoran had been enjoying a peaceful day of quiet with absolutely nothing to do. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday in March and Shelby had promised herself a weekend of lazing around the house. She needed that—things at school were about to get hectic. As if the approaching deadline for her English classes’ 12-page research papers wasn’t enough (153 students in total), she was also preparing to really kick her VA kids into high gear as they got ready for Regionals. They had six weeks until the competition, which meant the next five Saturdays were about to be dedicated to extra-long, intensive practices. Shelby was already exhausted.
Her ‘Day of Nothing’ hadn’t appealed to her energetic fourteen-year-old who had wanted to go and do something. So Shelby had let Rachel loose after lunch, waving from the porch as the teen headed off to the nearby park. “Have fun and be safe!” Shelby had called to her, adding a “Stay out of trouble!” as an afterthought. Rachel had laughed and turned back to face her mom. “I always do!” she’d said, and Shelby knew it was true. After all, in the eight months that she and Rachel had been reunited after the girl’s fathers’ passing, Rachel hadn’t done anything to warrant even a scolding from her mother. The closest she’d gotten was a few raised eyebrows now and again. Rachel was an angel as far as Shelby was concerned.
Her musings were cut short by the sudden (and incessant) ringing of the doorbell. Heart hammering, she jumped up from the sofa and rushed to the door. Flinging it open, Shelby wasn’t expecting her daughter to be on the other side of it, covered in—What was she covered in?
A panic-stricken little face met hers and for the briefest of moments, Shelby saw relief fill her child’s eyes. Tears formed and washed it away as Rachel’s face crumpled, words springing from her mouth in an endless stream.
“I did something stupid, Mom! I didn’t mean to—But she came out and saw me and I got scared and fell and ruined—She was so mad and screaming at me. I panicked and ran straight home to you. I’m sorry, Mom, I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have done it! But it was there and I—I got carried away. It was so dumb! I’m—”
“Rachel. Honey. I can’t understand you. Come on, get inside and let’s get you—Seriously, what is that all over you?” Shelby ushered her child inside, inspecting the girl’s jacket and then reaching for a hand to get a closer look.
“C–Concrete,” Rachel provided, fidgeting as she cast a quick look up at Shelby’s face and back down again.
“Concrete?” Shelby repeated in disbelief. “Where did you come across wet concrete? And why on Earth would you touch it?” It didn’t make sense.
“Mrs. Thornton’s house. She—She had her driveway redone and it was wet and I just…I—I was pretending I was at The Chinese Theatre and—”
“Rachel!” Shelby exclaimed. She was quick to cover her mouth to hide her smile as she pictured Rachel acting out her little fantasy.
Rachel looked up then to judge her mother’s expression. She was surprised there wasn’t anger—disbelief and more than a little bit of annoyance, sure—and she certainly hadn’t expected the tiniest glimmer of…was that amusement?
“I only meant to put one hand in it—just a bit! And I…I signed my name—but nothing too noticeable! I made sure it would be mostly hidden under her big bush, you know the one?” She paused here, sucking in a much-needed breath, and watched her mom expectantly. Shelby nodded to her, a silent encouragement to go on. “I was just getting up—Well, and I thought I should take a real quick picture on my phone—but that’s when Mrs. Thornton came out and saw me and—”
Rachel stopped again, trying to swallow the lump forming in her throat. Her eyes stung with welling tears and she couldn’t stop them when a few slipped past long lashes to trickle down her cheeks.
Up until this point, Shelby had been listening to her child with what truly boiled down to amused exasperation. She sobered at the arrival of tears and reached out to brush her thumb across wind-chilled cheeks to collect them. “And what, Rach?” she prompted, her tone gentle.
Rachel sniffled and darted sad eyes up to meet her mother’s kind ones. It was the look of pure love her mom was giving her that gave Rachel the strength to confess the worst of her story. “She started yelling and I—She scared me. I lost my balance and…and fell. Right into her driveway and…” Rachel’s voice cracked, her tears now falling freely.
“Oh, Rach,” Shelby sighed. She hated to see her baby cry.
“I’m sorry, Mommy!” Rachel cried, wiping her tears away on her jacket sleeve. “I didn’t mean…Are you mad?”
“I’m not mad, honey,” Shelby reassured, her voice calm and comforting as she stopped Rachel from wiping her face on her jacket again. She got to work easing the girl out of it, aiming for as little mess as possible. She thought she managed it, but that was a worry for later. For now, Rachel needed to be cleaned up. And they needed to talk.
Guiding her child into the kitchen, Shelby had the girl sit at the breakfast table. “Don’t touch anything,” she said as she whipped out her phone. She needed to Google how to get drying cement off of skin safely.
Before long, Shelby had a big bowl of warm water in front of her child and was pouring a dash of distilled white vinegar and some Dawn dish soap into the water and stirring it around with her own hand until bubbles formed on the surface. “Google says you need to soak your hands for twenty minutes to make sure there’s no remaining particles or anything on your skin,” she explained, drying her hand off on the kitchen towel she’d brought along with her. She took a seat catty-corner to her child, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.
Rachel sank her cold hands into the warm water, sighing as she wiggled her fingers and watched the bubbles rearrange themselves around her wrists. She sniffled and shifted on her seat, casting watery eyes up to glance at her mom. Shelby returned her look with a soft smile and Rachel blushed but settled. She could feel her heart rate begin to slow, as well as her tears.
Shelby was just deciding how she wanted to begin their conversation when the phone rang. “Keep your hands in there. I’ll be right back,” she said to her child as she got up from her seat. Heading over to the hutch against the far wall, she picked up the receiver from its dock. She let out a long sigh as ‘Florence Thornton’ scrolled across the Caller ID.
“Hello?” Shelby sighed, resigned.
“ SHELBY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOUR LITTLE HOOLIGAN HAS JUST DONE? THE NERVE OF THAT GIRL, DESTROYING MY PROPERTY AND THEN RUNNING OFF! WHY, I’VE NEVER —”
Shelby winced and then held the phone away from her ear as Mrs. Thornton went on an impassioned diatribe about Rachel’s misdeeds. She offered the woman intermittent answers whenever possible, wanting to appease her (and, quite frankly, to get her off the phone faster!)
Rachel watched from her spot at the table, heart in her throat and barely breathing. She couldn’t make out the exact words that Mrs. Thornton was saying, but she knew the woman was plenty angry. And her mother’s face was stormy as she listened. Shelby’s answers didn’t make Rachel feel any better, either.
“Yes, Mrs. Thornton…No, I’ll talk to her and—Yes, she will be disciplined, I assure…I will pay for the damages…Yes. Yes, Mrs. Thornton, we will be around in a little bit to…Yes. Yes, okay. Goodbye.”
Shelby sighed as she hung up the phone. Mrs. Florence Thornton was a prickly woman on the best of days and Shelby had always disliked her. In the eight years that Shelby had lived on this street, she had never once had a pleasant interaction with her neighbor five houses down. At least there was a reason for the woman to be so cantankerous today. After all, if Shelby had just spent several thousand dollars having a new driveway put in, only for a random teenager to come along and destroy it (even accidentally), she’d be mad too! So yes, Shelby understood the woman’s upset. On the other hand…
That was Shelby’s teenager. She may have only had the girl for eight months, but Shelby knew her daughter. There wasn’t a malicious bone in that child’s body. Rachel hadn’t destroyed Mrs. Thornton’s driveway out of spite or any kind of ill-will. It had been an accident, her hands (and apparently, a footprint) left behind in the cement. And the initial action—a small imprint of her hand and a signed name—had been nothing more than childish naughtiness. Rachel had given into an impulsive desire. It was wrong, yes—but not harmful. Had Mrs. Thornton not come out when she did, it was entirely possible she never would have learned of Rachel’s little mischievous act.
And the act itself…Shelby couldn’t help but find it funny. It would be her kid to envision setting her hand in cement in front of a crowd of screaming fans and flashing lights. How many times had Shelby fantasized about being grown up and famous when she was a kid? Too many to count—and some of them had ended with her facing her own trouble, too.
Trouble. Shelby sighed and turned to look at her child, still at the table with her hands submerged in soapy water. Rachel’s eyes had flicked to hers, enough for Shelby to see the guilt and nervousness in them. Her own words from earlier floated to the forefront of her mind. “Stay out of trouble!” It had been a joke . She never expected Rachel to get up to any mischief while she was out—and why would she? The girl had been perfect for her for eight months.
The mother shook her head. Rachel was still perfect. That was her perfect little girl sitting over there, guilty face and all. Her beautiful, wonderful child who’d found herself in a ridiculous situation. A ridiculous situation that Shelby wanted to simply laugh at and let go. But she was a mom now and the kid over there was depending on her to be that mom, that parent. She thought of her own parents and what they would do if that was her fourteen-year-old self sitting over there. She knew exactly what they would do and she wondered…
Shelby sighed again, then stepped forward.
Rachel’s stomach lurched as she watched her mother move towards her. The woman’s words from the phone call were still rattling around in her head, over and over: “Yes, she will be disciplined”. What did that mean, Rachel wondered (and worried). She knew what it would have meant for her fathers, but her daddies weren’t here anymore. And Rachel had kept her nose spotless in the eight months since their passing. Her mom hadn’t so much as scolded her before—she hadn’t given her a reason to. Now there was plenty of reason, and it required more than a few stern words, Rachel was sure of that.
Shelby stopped in front of the table and Rachel could hear her pulse rushing inside her ears. She gulped and shifted in her seat, big eyes trained on her mom’s every movement. She gasped as Shelby moved to lean over, looking under the table—but at what?
“Wh–What are you doing?” Rachel’s voice was shaky.
“Mrs. Thornton said you left a footprint beside your hands as well. I was just checking to see if you had your boots on,” Shelby answered, straightening up.
“I left them out on the porch when I noticed one had—” she began, then gasped. Her mind returned to her intended imprints. Now she really wished she could have gotten a picture of it! “I hope I didn’t step on my good handprint!”
“Rachel!” Shelby exclaimed. Then she actually laughed . “Just what am I going to do with you?”
Before Rachel could determine the true emotion behind her mother’s words, Shelby had spun on her heel and hurried out of the kitchen. Rachel gaped at the empty archway, her mind blank. She heard the door open, her mother’s muffled words, and then it shut again. Shelby reappeared in the entrance to the kitchen, hands empty.
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to save them. I’ll have to do some research—same with your jacket, I’m afraid,” Shelby said as she returned to her original seat diagonal from her daughter.
“Alright, young lady,” she began, her tone carrying just a hint of sternness. Rachel gulped. “We have much to discuss, don’t we? Where do you think we should start?”
Rachel squirmed, her face heating up. She flicked her gaze from her mother’s face down to the table. “Mommy, I—I’m sorry,” she offered in little more than a whisper.
“Sure, that’s as good a place as any to start,” Shelby shrugged. “What are you sorry for, Rach?”
Rachel grimaced and snuck a glance back up. Shelby was watching her expectantly, but she didn’t look overly angry. Resigned, more like. Rachel took a steadying breath and she gave a small, timid smile when her mom laid a warm hand on her bouncing knee.
“I know it was wrong and I shouldn’t’ve done it…I wasn’t trying to hurt anything…I didn’t think anyone would really even notice if they didn’t know it was there. But—But that doesn’t make it okay; I know that.” Rachel was rambling, taking her time to find her words. Her stomach twisted and turned with nervous butterflies. And through it all, her mom’s hand stayed on her knee, offering comfort and support. “I’ll apologize to Mrs. Thornton for…what I did.”
She shifted her gaze back up again, cautious in meeting her mother’s eyes. Shelby returned her look with a tiny, loving smile. It quieted most of the butterflies in her stomach.
“I think that’s a good idea, honey,” Shelby praised. “I’m proud of you for deciding that on your own—just as I’m proud of you for coming to me right away and telling me what happened. I’m glad I heard about it from you before getting the phone call from Mrs. Thornton.”
Rachel nodded, apprehensive. She was waiting for the ‘but’. She didn’t have to wait long.
“But you’re right—it was wrong. You know better than to touch something that isn’t yours. You’d never write graffiti on someone’s house, would you? Or key someone’s car?” Her question was rhetorical, but Rachel shook her head and squeaked out little ‘No, Mom!’s anyway. Shelby’s lips twitched up and she patted her daughter’s knee in quiet reassurance. “No, you wouldn’t. It’s the same thing here, kiddo. You defaced someone’s property—” At this, Rachel gasped and opened her mouth to speak. Shelby silenced her with a look.
“Look, Rach, I—” Here Shelby paused, collecting her thoughts. Truth be told, she didn’t think what Rachel did was all that big of a deal. Not in the grand scheme of things. It was harmless mischief…but still wrong. And still deserving of a consequence. Rachel clearly needed to be reminded of what was right and wrong— and to be taught the importance of impulse control. But she was fourteen and everyone made stupid mistakes at fourteen. It wasn’t the end of the world.
“I’m not mad, kiddo,” she started over. “I’m not even all that upset, to be honest. It was a stupid decision on your part, but I know you didn’t intend any harm by it. It really comes down to this, baby—You knew it was wrong when you did it and did it anyway. That tells me you need my help remembering what to do when faced with a decision between right and wrong. Would you agree with that?”
The butterflies were back and they’d brought friends along (if Rachel had to guess, she’d say tap dancing elephants). She hated the gentle tone Shelby was using—it only made her guilt that much worse. She nodded in answer to her mom’s question.
Shelby sighed and nodded back, her own stomach squirming with insects and…perhaps hippos. “What am I going to do with you?” she asked, her words barely audible. What was she going to do with Rachel? She thought she knew the answer, but…
“What would your dads have done?” The question came without thought, but once it was out, Shelby thought it probably was the right one to ask.
Rachel blushed, but her voice was clear when she said, “I’d…I’d get a spanking.”
Shelby nodded, her stomach flipping uncomfortably. “That’s how Nana and Pop would have handled it for me, too,” she said. “And they did, for something I’d done at fifteen that really wasn’t so different.”
Rachel sniffled, feeling tears prick at her eyes again. She didn’t want a spanking, but she knew that’s what her mother was saying. She appreciated Shelby empathizing with her and sharing her own similar experience. And in a way, knowing her mom was going to spank her for this was comforting…She was going to be Rachel’s parent just like her daddies always had.
Shelby sighed and stood, moving to rub her daughter’s back as she placed a kiss atop the girl’s head. “Let’s see those hands now,” she said, peering over her child’s shoulder to look into the bowl.
Rachel brought her hands up out of the water and let them drip over the bowl. Her fingers were wrinkled, but there was no sign of any residual cement on them. Shelby smiled and grabbed the towel she had used earlier, now using it to dab at her child’s wet hands.
“Go over to the sink and wash them really well now. Then I think you need to head on up to your bedroom. I’ll join you after I clean up here,” Shelby said, helping Rachel up from her chair. She didn’t miss the way the girl’s body stiffened under her hand. Shelby gave her one last kiss to her head before sending her towards the sink with a gentle pat to her bottom.
***
Rachel washed her hands robotically, her mind a million miles away. She thought about all of the times she’d ever been over one of her fathers’ laps for a spanking—a real one, not one of the playful birthday spankings they gave her every year. There hadn’t been many of the former—Rachel was a good kid. But she remembered the last, most recent one. It’d happened nearly a year ago now, sometime in May…only weeks before that fateful car crash that had taken her parents away forever.
Rachel had wanted to go to a movie with friends and her daddies had said no. She couldn’t even remember the reason she wasn’t allowed to go now, but she remembered thinking it was a dumb one. So Rachel had ignored their answer and had told her friends she could join them. Natalie’s mom had picked her up and off Rachel went. She’d known it was the wrong choice, but at the time, Rachel hadn’t cared.
She cared a whole lot when she’d gotten home and had to face two angry fathers who had been sick with worry until they’d called all of her friends’ parents to find out if anyone had seen her. Then Rachel’s deception had come to light. She’d been hugged and then scolded, and finally told to go up to her room—one of them would be up shortly.
It was her Daddy, Hiram, who had knocked on her door minutes later. Rachel had already changed into her pajamas, knowing she’d want to be as comfortable as she could after her spanking was over. Her daddy sat next to her on her bed, pulling her into a fierce hug and allowing her to cry into his shirt a moment while he rubbed her back.
“We love you, Rachel Barbra Berry. We love you too much to let you get away with behavior you already know is wrong. You disobeyed us, kiddo, and that’s never going to be okay in our book. So it’s time we have a little reminder about what is and isn’t okay for you to do, clear?”
Rachel had cried harder as she was lifted and placed face-down over her father’s lap. Her bottom was bared and then her daddy’s hand was falling fast and hard against his target. It felt as if it had lasted forever, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes start to finish. Rachel was sore and sorry when it was over, sobbing out the very last of her guilt over Hiram’s knee. She remembered the feeling of calmness, of feeling safe. She’d hated the pain of the spanking, hated the hot, lingering sting. It never lasted long, the warmth her daddy’s hand imparted cooling within an hour (two, at most). Her fathers’ love, however…Well, that warmed her heart even to this day.
“I think your hands are clean now, Rach.” Her mother’s voice, though soft, had startled her enough that she’d jumped, hands flying into the air and sending water everywhere.
“Oh I’m sorry, baby! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Shelby said, hurrying over to Rachel’s side. She grabbed a towel and helped her child dry her hands once more, then used that same towel to begin drying the floor.
“S–Sorry,” Rachel offered sheepishly. “I was just…thinking.”
Shelby just nodded, rubbing her child’s back a few times. She understood the thinking…Shelby had been thinking, too.
“M-Mom?” Rachel asked, sounding nervous.
“Hmm?”
“I…I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to get into so much trouble. And now you have to—” She couldn’t finish that thought. She was reminded of the one and only time she’d been over her mother’s lap. She’d told her mom all about her family’s silly birthday tradition, and Shelby had volunteered. Rachel had been happy to learn that she’d felt the same warmth and love from her mom that she always had from her dads. She wondered if the same would be true today.
“I’m just…sorry,” she finished. She only realized she was crying when Shelby’s fingers reached out to brush some of them away.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Shelby whispered. “I love you. You made a mistake and now it’s time to face the music, I’m afraid. But we will get through it together, like we’ve gotten through everything else together these last eight months. Right?”
Rachel nodded, more tears slipping down her cheeks. She crashed into her mom’s front, hugging her fiercely as she cried into her chest. Shelby’s arms engulfed her, holding her just as tight. She waited for Rachel’s tears to quiet some, then took a step back.
“C’mon,” she said, holding out her left hand. “I’ll clean this up later. I think it’s time you and I go take care of your reminder.”
***
Shelby was lost in her own thoughts as she led Rachel upstairs and towards the girl’s bedroom at the end of the hall. Her heart beat fast inside her chest and her stomach was a mess of nerves. She’d expected to have more time before she had to face the reality of what she had to do. Rachel was supposed to have gone up to her room to wait, leaving Shelby a few minutes alone to, well…probably freak out.
After all, it’s not like Shelby wanted to do what she was about to—she’d never spanked anyone before! And it’s not as if she ever even entertained the idea that it would happen with Rachel. It was the look that had crossed her child’s face when Shelby’d told her it was clear Rachel needed her help in remembering right from wrong, followed by her whispered ‘What am I going to do with you?’ that had sealed the deal. Shelby knew in an instant what Rachel needed from her. And her suspicion had been confirmed when she’d asked what Rachel’s dads would have done. Rachel had looked almost relieved. Certainly accepting. And it made sense, Shelby reasoned. Rachel was looking for normalcy and things Shelby and her dads had in common. Surely it would be comforting, in a way, to find out that her mom was going to handle misbehavior the same way her fathers always had.
Yes, it all made sense…but it didn’t make it any easier for Shelby to have to follow through on. She would give anything in this moment to not have to.
They reached Rachel’s bedroom door and Shelby cast a quick, side-long glance to her daughter. And there was her reason again, plain as day. Rachel was hurting, guilt and worry plastered all over her face. Shelby couldn’t leave her child to stew in that. Taking a deep breath, Shelby squeezed her daughter’s hand. Rachel looked up at her tentatively, and Shelby returned her look with a reassuring smile. The edges of Rachel’s lips twitched upward as she squeezed Shelby’s hand back.
Shelby gave herself a little nod (yes, she could do this) and then took the first step into Rachel’s room. Rachel’s feet dragged ever so slightly as Shelby led them over to her bed, but she went along without any protest. Shelby’s heart felt as if it was crawling up her throat as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. She pulled Rachel in between her knees and then looked into wet, sorrowful eyes.
They were almost her undoing. Shelby had the words ready on the tip of her tongue. Rachel was sorry, she could see that. They didn’t need to go through with this consequence after all. But Shelby could also see Rachel’s acceptance—her expectation. She couldn’t let her daughter down, not now, not when she needed her most.
Shelby inhaled a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Rachel followed suit, wiggling a bit in her nervousness. Shelby rested her hands on either side of Rachel’s hips, drawing her closer, and she felt her child relax ever so slightly.
“I love you, Rachel Barbra Berry,” Shelby found herself speaking these words before she’d even fully thought them in her head. “I love you to the moon and back, kid. But it’s my job as your mom to hold you accountable when you need it. You made a decision today that was the wrong one. I’m not upset with you over it, but that still doesn’t mean I can let you get away with it without a consequence. And today, that means I’m going to—” Shelby paused here, swallowing her own nerves. “—I’m going to spank you.”
Rachel sucked in a shaky breath, her heart pounding against her rib cage. The elephants had added several new routines to their performances, sloshing Rachel’s stomach this way and that. She wasn’t afraid of the spanking, but she was nervous of the unknown. She’d feel better once it started, she just knew it. Her mom must have read her mind or maybe just made a really good guess, because before Rachel knew it, she was laying face-down over her mother’s knees, her bottom tilted towards the sky.
Rachel only gave a little squeak when she felt Shelby’s hands push the edge of her Fair Isle sweater up while simultaneously dragging her leggings and underwear down. She shivered as cold air kissed her bottom and goosebumps appeared. When her mother’s hand came to rest against her bare skin, Rachel felt herself relax. Despite knowing she was over it for a different reason today, Shelby’s lap still felt just as safe and comforting as it did on her birthday.
Staring down now at the bare little bottom over her lap, Shelby was having second and third thoughts on whether or not this was the right thing to do. She didn’t know what she was doing! What if she did it wrong? Before she got too caught up in her own head, Shelby rested her hand atop her daughter’s bottom. And rather than tensing up, Rachel’s body relaxed. That was enough for Shelby. She’d figured everything out as they went—it’s what she'd been doing all along when it came to her daughter anyway, and it hadn’t failed her yet. She would trust the process again now.
Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Shelby reminisced on her own spankings growing up. She may be on the opposite end of it now, but the logistics were all the same. She could do this, she reminded herself. And she would— for Rachel. Rubbing her daughter’s bottom briefly, she gave it a few experimental taps. Then she took a breath, let it out, and raised her hand.
It landed a split-second later on the very center of Rachel’s left cheek with a loud crack—or it certainly sounded loud in the otherwise-silent bedroom. Shelby watched as the faintest hint of pink appeared on Rachel’s skin and she let out a relieved sigh. She could do this.
Rachel jolted at the impact. A quick flash of discomfort prickled where her mother’s hand connected and faded just as quickly. Then the next swat landed, and another after that.
“O–Ow!” Rachel yelped, more from shock than any real pain. It wasn’t so bad, she decided. It stung a tiny bit, but mostly, it was loud.
Shelby shook her head as she took stock. She’d landed nearly a dozen swats by now and Rachel’s skin was barely pink. The girl wasn’t reacting to the swats either—Shelby was sure she’d wiggled more during her birthday spanking than she was now! And that just wouldn’t do.
“OW!” Rachel gasped when the next swat landed—that one had hurt! The ones that followed hurt too! “Ow! Ow, ow! M–Mom!”
That was more of the reaction Shelby was looking for. She kept her pace and strength the same, working to cover all of Rachel’s bottom in stinging spanks.
“Ouch! Ouch, Mom! M–Mommy, no!” Rachel yelped, her hips shifting now that her bottom was heating up. This was more like how she remembered her daddies spanking—and she remembered it sucked!
“What is this spanking for, Rachel?” Shelby asked, her palm snapping down on Rachel’s sit-spots. She remembered hating when her parents asked her why she was getting her tail lit up while over their laps. She also remembered it working to get the lesson to stick.
“Ow, ow, ow!” Rachel whined tearfully as she began to kick her legs. “I—Ouch! B–Because I touched something that wasn’t—Ow! Oh, oww—mine! It was defacing—Oohoo—property!”
“You knew it was wrong when you did it, correct?” Shelby prodded. She moved back up to the fullest part of her daughter’s cheeks, reawakening the previous sting.
“Yes! Yes, Mommy!” Rachel answered, her voice shrill. “Owwhowow!”
“And what are you going to do the next time you’re faced with a choice between what is right and what is wrong?” Shelby asked. Her hand was slowing down now that Rachel’s bottom was a uniformly-painted dusty rose—just enough to sting the whole way down to Mrs. Thornton’s and back again.
“Owww! I’ll make the right choice, Mom—Owhowow, OW—I swear! I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! Ouch! And I won’t do it a–again! Mommy, please!” Rachel had started crying softly halfway through her pained promises, her mother’s hand encouraging her tears. Her bottom stung, and she was definitely feeling punished…but Rachel also felt safe and loved and at peace.
Shelby continued to land light spanks all over her child’s warm, pink bottom. They were mostly for show now, none of them enough to add their own sting anymore. But something told her she needed to keep going like this for a few seconds more.
Her mother’s hand coaxed the last of the butterflies and the elephants from Rachel’s stomach—even the concrete rock that had weighed her down when she’d first gotten home was gone now, washed away with her tears. Rachel slumped across the woman’s lap, letting the dregs of her guilt trickle free.
Shelby knew she’d made the right decision when, after half a dozen more light pops, Rachel went limp across her knees. Shelby stopped immediately, her hand moving to rub soothing circles on a shuddery back.
Rachel’s tears ended not long after the spanking did, and she soon found herself set upright, her mother’s hands making quick work of covering her stinging bottom. Rachel gave it a brief rub, not surprised at the heat, and then allowed herself to be guided onto her mom’s lap—to sit this time. She hissed and shifted at the faint ache, but settled quickly as Shelby’s arms wrapped around her. Rachel then listened to the steady thump-thump of her mother’s heart against her ear until her own matched its pace.
Shelby drew just as much comfort from the quiet closeness as Rachel did. She needed this time to convince herself that her daughter wasn’t any worse for wear after they’d both survived their very first spanking. And she knew Rachel wasn’t. But still, there was always that fear as a parent that she’d make a mistake she couldn’t undo.
Shelby then considered how she was feeling. Was she okay? She thought so…She hadn’t enjoyed causing her daughter any pain, but she also knew that any sting she’d imparted was fleeting. She’d thought she’d given enough of a lesson for Rachel to feel during their walk down and back from Mrs. Thornton’s. Now she wasn’t so sure. Rachel seemed fine now, barely ten minutes after the fact.
Shelby sighed and shook her head. It didn’t really matter. The lesson had been learned, she was sure of that. And she and Rachel had survived and were okay. She was sure of that, too.
***
It was fifteen minutes after Rachel’s spanking that mother and daughter found themselves at the edge of Mrs. Thornton’s newly-paved and recently-destroyed driveway, all three women staring down at the mess Rachel had inadvertently caused. Rachel blushed and shifted on her feet as her mother surveyed the scene in its entirety. Her bottom twinged with the faint, leftover sting from her spanking as she chewed at her lip. Mrs. Thornton was giving her a nasty look that made Rachel’s stomach flip.
“Rachel,” Shelby said, and looked at her child expectantly. “I think you have something to say to Mrs. Thornton?”
Rachel’s mouth went dry and she flicked pleading eyes on her mother. She knew she’d told the woman she would apologize to Mrs. Thornton. She’d even meant it when she’d said it! But now, Rachel would almost rather take another spanking than have to speak to mean ol’ Mrs. Thornton and tell her she’d been wrong. Her mother must have seen that thought broadcasted across her face because she’d simply shook her head and leveled Rachel with a scary raised eyebrow. But then her hand had found Rachel’s and held it tight.
Rachel took a deep breath and then met Mrs. Thornton’s eye—but only for a second! She directed her apology down at her drying hand-and-foot-prints. “I’m sorry I ruined your driveway, Mrs. Thornton. I didn’t mean to but I…I still did. And I know it was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have been near it to begin with. I—I hope you will accept my apology.”
“I hope your mother taught you some respect, you little hoodlum! Respect for your elders and respect for other people’s property! The nerve of you to think you can go around messing with things that don’t belong to you! I tell you, I never—”
“Rachel knows she was wrong and has apologized to you for it, Mrs. Thornton,” Shelby interrupted their cranky neighbor’s rant. “She and I have talked about it at length and she’s been corrected. She won’t do it again, will you Rachel?”
“No, I won’t,” Rachel was quick to confirm. “I promise—never again, Mrs. Thornton.”
“Corrected, hmm? Well I hope you did correct her, Shelby. I hope you gave her a darn good spanking! That’s what spoiled little brats like her deserve! Children today don’t have enough discipline in their lives! Parents and teachers are too afraid to take a stout switch to their bare backsides, if you ask me!”
Rachel’s face grew two shades darker and her backside chose that moment to give a painful throb, reminding her it really was still a little bit sore. She felt her mom squeeze her hand in comfort, then let go in order to place herself in front of Rachel.
“I understand that you are upset, Mrs. Thornton, but I will not allow you to speak to my daughter like that. She’s simply a child who made a mistake. She ran straight home to me and told me what she’d done. We were already discussing it when you called to inform me yourself. And now we’re here and Rachel has apologized and I have already told you I will pay to have this portion of your driveway replaced. If the only thing you have left to say to us is insults, I think we’re done here.”
Mrs. Thornton sputtered and scoffed, her wrinkly face distorting with rage. She puffed herself up, her cheeks turning red. Then she spit at the ground and turned to storm up the walkway towards her house.
Shelby let her go, her own anger boiling inside of her. That was the meanest old lady Shelby had ever had the misfortune to know! She turned, expecting to find her child right behind her. Her head snapped left and then right, and finally found her teenager crouched down beside the driveway, nearly hidden in the overgrown bush. Shelby couldn’t help but shake her head and smile as Rachel snapped a couple quick pictures of her illicit artwork. She made sure to appear stern as her daughter finished.
Rachel giggled as she stood up, extra careful of keeping her balance this time. Her eyes met her mother’s and she froze for a moment. “Sorry, Mom,” she shrugged sheepishly, making her way over to the woman with only the smallest glimmer of trepidation. “I really do promise never to do anything like this again, but—” She held her phone up for Shelby to see. “Look how cool this is!”
Shelby took the phone from her child, staring down at the picture longer than necessary, and trying not to give her act away. It became harder the more squirmy Rachel got. Finally, Shelby pocketed the device inside her jacket next to her own phone. Then she turned and looked down at her daughter, narrowing her eyes for good measure.
Rachel gulped and took a step back, her hands moving to shield her butt. “Mommy, I—”
Shelby laughed then, relaxing her posture and tugging Rachel to her side. She slung her left arm around her child and bumped their hips playfully. “It’s very cool, Rach,” she said, earning a huge grin from her daughter. Then she withdrew her arm, pointed a finger at Rachel, and warned in a tone just shy of stern, “But the next time you imagine yourself placing your handprint at The Chinese Theatre, you better really be there. You got me? ”
Rachel swallowed and licked her lips, nodding fervently. “Yes, Mom. I got you,” she promised.
Shelby smiled and let her hand drop—right against Rachel’s bottom with a firm pop. Rachel squealed and jumped forward, her hands flying back to block any further correction. She pouted as Shelby caught up to her and ruffled her hair.
“C’mon, kid. Let’s go home,” Shelby said, and held her hand out for Rachel to take. Rachel did, reverting back to her usual, bubbly self as she regaled her mother with her newest fantasies of her future life on Broadway.
Shelby listened with rapt attention; it was easy to imagine a grown-up Rachel fulfilling all of those big dreams and more. But right now, Shelby didn’t want to think of her daughter as grown up. She wanted her just as she was now—an excitable fourteen-year-old who was perfect and beautiful…and a little bit of a mischief-maker, as it turned out. And Shelby wouldn’t have her any other way.