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The silence in the kitchen and bedroom above
her jarred Mrs. O’Fahey back to reality. There were still no signs
of life upstairs. She took another sip of her coffee and left the
kitchen. This time she hurried up the stairs, her green eyes
flashing, her lips set in a straight line.
"So
this is how my girls start their day," she murmured. Halfway up the
stairs she raised her voice. "Lazy girls! I’ll teach you to stay in
bed." She opened their bedroom door and paused in the doorway,
silently surveying her sleeping daughters.
Emma, sensing her mother’s presence, suddenly woke up. With a
puzzled expression on her face, she nudged Karen and hoarsely
whispered, "Mother’s here! Karen, get up!"
Emma nudged her sister again as she rolled out of the warm bed and
padded across the cold floor to the dry sink. Karen groaned, but
didn’t move. Emma noticed the rain had stopped, but it was still
quite cool in the room. She could feel goose bumps rising all over
her body as she dashed some water from the heavy china pitcher into
the basin. She was so nervous, some of the water splashed out of the
basin and onto the cold metal lining of the dry sink. Glancing at
her mother, she dampened a washcloth and dabbed it on her face. The
icy water shocked her awake. It suddenly occurred to her that Mother
hadn’t said a word since she’d entered the bedroom.
That was not a good sign. As she pulled her nightgown over her head,
she remembered the early morning hours and was grateful they’d
remembered to put their night gowns back on again. She opened a
bureau drawer and took out clean underwear. In spite of her
nervousness, her mind noted the freshly laundered underwear and the
clean outdoor scent that still lingered in her cotton camisole and
bloomers.
Mrs. O’Fahey said softly, "You needn’t bother putting those things
on, Emma. I’m going to take them right back off again." She glanced
at the hump under the covers. "Karen Eileen O’Fahey! Get out of that
bed."
At
the sound of her mother’s voice, Karen’s eyes flew open. Her mother
had moved to the bed and was standing over her. Karen rolled out of
bed, stumbling and falling before she could even get on her feet.
Mrs. O’Fahey had to stifle a smile as she watched her daughter
fighting her way out of sleep. Emma was watching too, but she didn’t
let her mother see her. Both girls already knew they were going to
get it good this morning.
Emma tried to intercede. "Mother, it was so warm in bed this morning
- what with the rain and all - we just fell back to sleep again. It
won’t happen again. We promise. Don’t we, Karen?"
Emma glanced at her sister. Karen stood shivering and uncertain in
the middle of the room, the thin folds of her night gown clutched
tightly around her. Her slender body was shaking, all covered with
goose bumps. She folded her arms over her breast to ward off the
chill.
"Y-y-e-s-s-s, th-that’s r-r-right," she chattered through clenched
teeth, glancing at Emma and then her mother.
"Never mind your excuses. You’re both going to be spanked. You won’t
have a chill in you when I’m through with you."
Karen gulped and tried to stall by dashing water on her face and
taking out fresh underwear. Not getting up on time was a serious
infraction. Mother rarely accepted their excuses - and this morning
they weren’t even fortunate enough to have one. She gave her mother
an imploring look.
"Mother," she said in her sweetest little girl voice, "I can still
get to school on time." She glanced at Emma. "We needn’t be late.
You’ll see." Emma nodded fiercely.
For
a brief moment, Mrs. O’Fahey weakened. Since her husband’s untimely
demise in a freak drayage accident five years ago, she’d had to
raise the girls by herself. She knew they were contrite and she felt
genuinely sorry for them. No mother could ask for more devoted
daughters. But she’d always been fair but strict with them. They
both knew very well if they broke a house rule that meant at least a
spanking if not a whipping - plain and simple. They hadn’t gotten up
when she’d called them, and she’d even given them several extra
minutes to make good on their mistake. No, she wasn’t going to
weaken, that would be a mistake. Their behavior called for a strict
dose of discipline right across their naughty backsides.
She
set her hands on her hips and watched her daughters. They were, she
knew, hanging on to the remote hope that if they moved fast enough
and kept silent, she might overlook their misbehavior. But deep
down, the girls knew better. She’d never given them cause to believe
such a turn of events. She clapped her hands sharply.
"I’m very upset with the two of you. Sleeping in after I called you
twice. What nonsense! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves." Her
face took on a stern look as her voice continued to rise. "Is there
any good reason why I should tolerate such blatant disobedience?"
"N-No, Mother," they said almost in unison.
"And what would happen if you’d overslept at your Grandmother’s?"
Emma whispered, "She’d cut a switch and whip our backsides." Karen
nodded silently as Emma spoke.
"Mmmhmm. And can either of you give me one good reason why I
shouldn’t do the same this morning– with my hairbrush?" She folded
her arms over her ample bosom and waited for their reply.
The
girls stood transfixed, looking at her.
"Girls? I’m waiting for your reply."
Karen was the first to speak. "Mother, I have no excuse. I was
disobedient and I...well, I-I d-deserve to be spanked."
Mrs. O’Fahey looked at Emma.
"Karen’s right, Mother. I-I too should be punished. It wasn’t
Karen’s fault."
Mrs. O’Fahey nodded her assent. "Emma, you’re the oldest, I’ll start
with you. You’re supposed to be setting a good example for your
younger sister, not leading her astray."
As
the girls looked at each other, Mrs. O’Fahey took Emma by the arm
and led her over to the bed. "Karen, fetch my hairbrush. And be
quick about it."
Karen hurried out of the room and down the hall to her mother’s
bedroom. Emma stood quietly, like a naughty little girl, and allowed
her mother to slip the worn flannel night gown off her and lay it on
the bed. Emma’s luscious bare thighs and bottom cheeks seemed to
glow in the soft morning light.
Emma stood in front of her mother, her eyes downcast and sad. As
she’d been taught, she held her arms clasped together behind her at
waist level. This stance swelled and uplifted her plump breasts,
while flattening her already taut belly.
Karen returned with the dreaded hairbrush. The brush was quite large
and had an oval-shape that tapered into a long slender handle. Years
of use on the girls’ bottoms had worn off the finish and imparted a
lustrous patina to the smooth hardwood face of the brush.
Seeing the hairbrush, Emma moaned softly in anticipation of what she
knew was about to happen. Ignoring the girl’s supplications and
holding onto her, Mother O’Fahey positioned herself to spank her
daughter. She placed one foot securely on the bed rail (a pose the
girls knew only too well). Although she was comfortable spanking and
strapping her girls in any number of positions, this was the one she
preferred over all the others. No matter where she was when she had
to spank the girls, she had a stable spanking platform over which
she could lay the girls to receive their just due. All she needed
was a solid rest for her foot.
She
laid Emma over her extended thigh, her plump bottom positioned
perfectly for a proper spanking. She wasted no time studying the
condition or tone of her daughter’s bottom. She went right to work
with the big hairbrush, bringing it down smartly on the girl’s
backside.
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The
sharp report of the hairbrush on Emma’s soft buttock startled her,
making her twist to dodge the smack. Almost immediately another
stroke landed quickly on the other jiggling cheek.
No
matter how many times her mother spanked with the hairbrush, it
always came as a fresh reminder of just how strict a disciplinarian
her mother could be. She moaned softly, and rolled her hips again.
One leg flew off the floor in response to a stinging crack across
her upper thigh.
"Hold still," the matriarch warned her daughter. "Or I’ll increase
your punishment!" Emma whimpered and went limp, resigned to her
misfortune.
Mother O’Fahey’s arm descended again and again, heating up the poor
girl’s backside. First one cheek, then the other, after which her
hairbrush would straddle both cheeks. Emma’s bottom was beginning to
turn a bright pink color. Tears welled in her eyes.
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Mrs. O’Fahey was a skilled disciplinarian. Her spankings were always
applied fast and hard. They were meant to be painful for the girls–
and they usually were. Warming to her task, the hairbrush flew in
her hand like a well-oiled machine. She slowly worked her way over
Emma’s rapidly reddening buttocks, methodically going back over the
unspanked spots. Emma kicked and twisted, trying to escape her
mother’s hand.
"Stop that twisting, Emma."
"Please, mother." Emma pleaded.
"I
said stop that!"
Karen was forced to watch her sister’s punishment, just as Emma
would have to watch hers. She was not allowed to leave the room.
Karen’s eyes were wide and soft with compassion for her older
sister. Her mother’s transformation when she disciplined them always
amazed her. She seemed to become a different person. She was so
fun-loving, joyous and caring. But when it came time to spank her
daughters, she became a no-nonsense, strict and dominant woman. They
didn’t dare contradict or disobey her when she was in this state.
Without missing a stroke or breaking her rhythm, Mrs. O’Fahey
momentarily lifted her eyes from Emma’s now reddened buttocks. Karen
felt her mother’s eyes boring into her.
"You just stay right where you are, young lady. You’re next in
line."
She
returned her attention to her oldest daughter. Her hairbrush sank
into Emma’s jiggling buttocks again. Each stroke left another
scarlet signature on her backside. Mrs. O’Fahey spanked the hapless
girl for another long minute before deciding her oldest daughter had
enough.
Easing the girl off her thigh, she said, "Let that be a lesson to
obey your mother! Now get dressed. Karen, its your turn."
Blubbering softly to herself, Emma gingerly stepped into her
bloomers, pulling them up gently over her flaming cheeks and thighs.
It would be a painful day at work, sitting on a hard seat, unable to
get up and walk off the sting. She watched her sister approach her
mother, full of dreadful expectations.
Karen knew her mother wouldn’t spare her backside. She was going to
get the same spanking Emma had just received. How she regretted
sleeping in. She vowed to herself it wouldn’t happen again.
Crying softly to herself, she stood in front of her mother and let
her remove her night gown. As her mother lifted the thin flannel
over the curve of her buttocks and thighs, she felt the scrape of
her mother’s nails across her flesh. It sent an eerie shiver up her
spine.
When her mother had laid the slender girl over her ripe thigh, with
her small backside bared and ready for spanking, Karen felt herself
reverting into the role of a naughty little girl. This always
happened when her mother spanked her. Slipping backward in time
seemed to please her mother, and heighten her own sense of
vulnerability and excitement.
Being smaller than Emma, Mrs. O’Fahey easily fit her youngest
daughter snugly into her lap. She held her tightly against her
corset. Karen could feel the swell of the rigid stays beneath her
mother’s breasts and then the quick flexing motion of her thigh as
she raised her hand and brought down the hairbrush in a whistling
arc straight onto Karen’s milky-white buttocks.
The
first stinging smack echoed through the room, making both Karen and
Emma flinch. The hairbrush instantly colored her buttock and forced
a soft groan from her lips. The next smack came down even harder.
This time she couldn’t help it. She shrieked...
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Excerpt
above from/continued
in chapter 2 of 5 similarly sensational parts of The O'Fahey Girls!
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