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When Jody is caught with pot at her school, she refuses to give up her friends, when her father makes her drop her pants and panties for a hard spanking, she refuses again, when he makes her wait 30 minutes for another spanking with a wooden spoon, she still refuses, 30 minutes later after 26 spanks with the belt, she gives in.
A Model's Behavior
While breaking into modeling, Annalee lived with the Hardins, her mother's first cousin his wife and daughter. She often wondered about the strap hanging in their kitchen. Then one day when she and her cousin do some underage drinking, she sees it used on her cousin's bare bottom and finds herself volunteering for the same. Soon, it is not unusual for her misbehavior to see her bent over, panties down, for a good strapping.
Carrie's parents were old-fashioned Christians, Carrie was a modern girl. But she lived with them and was to find out that, at age 21, a naughty girl could still go over her father's knees and experience the benefits of not sparing the rod (ok, a paddle).
Double the Trouble
The beautiful identical twins got away with murder, each claiming that a prank was done by the other, until their neighbor got the goods on them and forced them both to accept long hard spankings on their bare bottoms over his knee, with the promise of more in the future.
Ellen was amused to watch Geraldine drop her pants and go over her mother's knee. She found it much less amusing when her own parents catch her working in a topless club and it's her panties down and her father officiating.
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Model Behavior (Sample Chapter)
Collection of five bare bottom spanking stories
© Z.Z. Bottoms and CF Publications, 2013
It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Most people were outside on this Saturday afternoon enjoying the unusually warm weather for November. However inside the principal's office at the Walker School, things were very gloomy indeed. Jody sat to one side looking glum while her parents sat in front of Mr. Bilbrew's desk. Next to him sat the vice-principal, Mrs. Forrester.
"This is a very serious matter," Mr. Bilbrew was saying, "That is why we have called you down here on a Saturday when no one else is at the school, not even the janitors. We want to keep this as private as possible. I'll get right to the point. Your daughter, Jody, has been caught dealing drugs to the other students at school."
Both of Jody's parents, Robert and Audrey Stimson, turned to look at their daughter with shocked looks on their faces. Jody looked down at the floor.
"Is that true?" her father asked.
"It was only a little pot." she replied defensively.
"Only a little pot! Only a little pot! What do you mean only a little pot?" her father said.
"I can't believe this," her mother said, "I have always been afraid that Jody might try drugs but I never thought that she would actually be selling them."
"It was more than just a little pot, as she puts it. We found five more plastic bags in her locker," Mr. Bilbrew said.
He continued, "How this all came about is we had heard rumors that there was drug usage among our students but we were skeptical. Our students here at Walker School all come from respectable families but even in private schools nowadays there is always the threat of drug use. Luckily some of the parents have connections down at City Hall. They told us that the police had heard the same rumors that we had heard and they were planning a sting operation. They were going to send a young looking undercover police officer into the school to find out what was going on. We knew we had to act fast to protect the reputation of the school. We did not want any newspaper headlines about drugs in Walker School."
"So what we did was hire a private investigation agency. With our cooperation they installed hidden security cameras in the school and sent their own agent into the school enrolled as a student. That was the agent that your daughter sold the drugs to. We even have the transaction on video tape."
There was silence in the room as Mr. and Mrs. Stimson absorbed this disturbing information.
A Model's Behavior
The strap hung on the wall. What was it doing there? It did not seem to have any use that Annalee could imagine. It hung on the wall of the hall, black and mysterious. It was roughly a foot and a half long and as wide as a man's wide belt, about an inch and a half wide but much thicker. It was as thick as the belting on some industrial machine or perhaps a weight lifting belt. It was very plain except for a hole in one end. Annalee could see what the hole was for; it was there so the strap could be hung up by the nail that was in the wall. Since it was in the hallway she passed it almost every day but nobody in the house would tell her what its purpose was.
Annalee did not really live there. Well she sort of did; she lived in the detached garage that was separated by about twenty feet from the house but she spent a lot of time in her relatives' house. Annalee had recently moved to this suburban community that was adjacent to a fairly large city so she could pursue her career as a model. She had lived with her parents, about three hours distance at the other end of the state. Although her parents lived in a nice but modest house the area around them was lower income and did not offer many opportunities for an aspiring model like Annalee. As soon as she graduated from high school she left home with her parents blessing to come and live with the Hardin's.
Although eighteen year old Annalee was drop-dead gorgeous at five feet five inches tall she was not tall enough to be a runway model but she was perfect for swimsuit modeling, print work, and promotional work or as a spokes model. Right now her hair was dark blonde, only a little lighter than her natural color, but over the last few years it had been at least a dozen different colors. Every few months she got bored with it and tried a new shade. Her eyes also changed; she had a several different colored contact lenses even though her vision was fine. Her eyes had been green, brown, and several shades of blue, even violet. Their natural color was hazel. She looked stunning no matter what her coloring was but she was always experimenting to see if she could look even better. She spent at least an hour a day on grooming even if she wasn't doing anything important. If she was doing a photo session or something similar she could take two or three hours getting ready.
Jack Hardin was her mother's first cousin which made Annalee and him first cousins once removed and his sixteen year old daughter, Jesse, and Annalee were second cousins.
Jack and Marie Hardin lived in a comfortable single level ranch house along with their daughter, Jesse. Their older son had moved out several years ago. In addition to their house they had a two car garage that had been converted into a comfortable apartment several years ago for Marie's elderly grandmother who had lived there for five years until her passing two years ago.
When Annalee needed a place to live in the area the Hardin's were happy to have her move in. The garage apartment was useless to them since according to local zoning laws they could not rent it out since it did not meet some strict building codes but a relative of theirs could live there. Annalee was even happier to be there since she paid the Hardin's less than half of what she would have to pay somewhere else. She had her privacy but she could go into the main house anytime she wanted.
Annalee drove into the city regularly to search for modeling work. Her jobs were sporadic but she also got steady work as a bartender three or four nights a week from eight pm to one pm. It seemed strange to her that she could not drink until she was twenty one but she could serve other people alcohol at eighteen. Her salary was only seven dollars an hour under the table which meant she took home thirty five dollars for the night but she could also count on getting fifty or a hundred dollars in tips so she was doing alright for a girl her age. The male customers would tip a hot looking girl especially if she flirted with them a little. She quickly learned that the more revealing clothes she wore the better the tips were. One night when there was a convention in the town she made nearly three hundred dollars in tips in one night.
It was a little after midnight when Carrie checked her watch. She found it a little annoying that she had to look at her watch at all. Her parents were so unreasonable. All she was doing was having a late night chat with her girlfriends at a restaurant. At home her mother and father would probably be already looking at the clock wondering where she was. Stupid! She did not have a formal curfew but she know her parents would be upset if she came in later than twelve or one o'clock.
Here she was, at twenty one years old, nearly twenty two, having to deal with this stupid crap. If only she had her own apartment. Unfortunately that was not possible at this time. She had just gotten her new job and with car payments, clothing and other expenses she could not afford to live on her own. Carrie was not too frugal and like a lot of twenty-something's nowadays had decided to move back in with her parents to save money.
Carrie's parents were strict Christians who had very conservative values. They had tried to instill these same values in their only daughter but were never entirely successful. When she was growing up they insisted that she grow to church with them twice a week, on Sundays and Wednesday nights. Everything had to be done just right; everything, from household chores to behavior. Carrie's wardrobe had to be modest as well as her language and demeanor. There had been a lot of fighting and fussing during her formative years, especially after she had become a teenager and wanted more independence. She felt relieved when she moved away at eighteen years old to attend college.
She had always been an excellent student. She was intelligent and with her parent's constant prodding she was always on the honor role in high school. She had gotten a scholarship to an excellent Ivy League school in the east. It was a full ride; all expenses paid. Of course, it was a very liberal school, which her parents were not too comfortable with, but they could not deny the pride they felt in her achievement.
During the four years at college she was only home infrequently. She made many friends at school and was often invited to go home with them during breaks. Spring Break was always spent in Florida partying. During the summers she was also with her school chums a lot and was only home with her parents for a few weeks at a time.
After graduating Magna Cum Laude from college she was immediately offered a position as a legal assistant at an upscale law firm which happened to be in her parents' area. It was a great job and although the starting salary was only moderate it promised many opportunities to further her career.
When Carrie first discussed the possibility of moving back home her parents were quite pleased. Not only did they enjoy having her home but they also felt that it would give them more control over her life which they felt had been too uninhibited for their liking. For example, as soon as she had gotten her new job she had purchased a near luxury automobile which her parents felt was too extravagant for a young girl. Also they suspected that she was not living up to the ideal Christian life that they expected of her.
When her parents insisted that she accompany them to church she resisted but eventually they had agreed on a compromise; she would go to church on Sunday mornings but not on Wednesday nights or attend other church activities that she was not interested in. Carrie found the sermons boring. She would much rather sleep in on Sundays.
Double the Trouble
Steve was relaxing while reading some short stories. At least he was trying to relax. It did not last long. Within five minutes of sitting down in his easy chair he was assaulted by a wall of sound coming from the street. He instantly knew the cause of the sound even if he did not know its source.
Sighing he got up and went over to his window. There was a car with some teenage boys in it parked in front of the house next to his. There was some of that damned rap music, if you could call it music, blaring out of that car at a volume that would have done justice to an outdoor concert in a stadium. As usual the lyrics were almost undecipherable but from the few words that he could understand they were filthy. But the real problem was the bass. The low frequency thump-thump-thump felt like an earthquake. From experience he knew that by turning up the volume on his stereo system or his TV he could mostly block out most of the higher frequency sounds but the low frequency notes from the sub woofers were impossible to block. The sound went through walls, ceilings, anything.
Steve could understand listening to your favorite music in your own car but what he could not understand is why these kids had to subject everyone in any neighborhood they were in to this garbage.
They spent thousands of dollars on sound systems that would be suitable for an outdoor stadium turning their cars into oversized speakers with wheels. These kids were going to be half deaf by the time they reached twenty five.
Although these boys were the source of the sound the cause of the disturbance lived next door; the Kenton's. This had been a nice quiet Long Island neighborhood until the Kenton's had moved in six months ago. Clifford and Marge Kelton seemed nice enough but it was their two daughters, Heather and Holly, that were the problem. They were identical sixteen year old twins and the term rambunctious was far too mild to due them justice.
When Steve had first seen Heather and Holly and found that they were his new next door neighbors he was delighted. They were eye candy of the highest order and he thought that they were really going to brighten up the neighborhood. They were drop dead gorgeous with long blonde hair and bodies that could be in Playboy if they were older. In fact they probably could be in Playboy now if they were able to conceal their ages as the sixteen year old Elizabeth Ann Roberts did back in the late nineteen fifties. On a rating scale of one to ten each of them was a ten and, best of all, there were two of them. Did that make them a twenty?
Steve could not help notice them as they lived next door to him. It was hard not to notice them as they dressed very provocatively wearing short shorts, revealing tank tops, tight low rider jeans, or dresses that looked that they had been poured into. They always dressed exactly the same so it was difficult to tell them apart. After he got to know them he noticed that there was something subtle that distinguished them. Heather had a small birthmark about the size of a freckle on the side of her neck that Holly did not have. However Steve had to be very close to them and they had to be facing the right direction for him to see it.
He talked to the twins several times and they both seemed pretty intelligent and pleasant but he could tell that they had an attitude of entitlement and they acted a little superior which was kind of irritating. They were so much alike that they frequently finished each other's sentences.
Within a few weeks of the Kenton's moving in the problems started. The twins attracted boys, lots of boys. Boys with cars designed to be seen and heard. Screeching tires, loud exhausts and the aforementioned unbelievably loud speaker systems. Day and night they came roaring down the formerly quiet street. Steve did not know if the twins had a curfew but if they did it was ignored. They often came home in the wee hours of the morning waking up the entire neighborhood. Besides the cars of the boys the twins shared a VW New Beetle convertible. They rarely put them top up and it, too, was equipped with a sound system that must have taxed the alternator.
"We have to turn here," Ellen said.
"Why?" Geraldine asked.
"I have to pick up something for my mother at the dry cleaners," Ellen answered, "Do you know what time it is?"
"I don't have a watch," Geraldine said, "I think that it is sometime between four and five."
"Mom's going to kill me. I was supposed to be home at four," Ellen said nervously.
The two seventeen year old girls were walking back from the mall on the way to their respective homes. They only lived a block from one another. They made another turn down the street where the dry cleaning establishment was located. When they arrived Ellen tried to pull the door open to go in but found that it was locked. Looking in through the glass door she saw that there were no lights on.
"Oh no! It's closed," she said, "Why is it closed?"
"Probably because it is Saturday," her friend answered, "They must close early."
She nudged Ellen aside and looked at the sign on the door.
Pointing to the sign Geraldine said, "See. The hours are nine to seven on weekdays and nine to five on Saturdays"
"It's after five already?" Ellen said, "Oh shit!"
Peering inside through the glass door she saw a clock on the wall. It said that it was quarter past five.
"Oh shit! Oh shit! Now I'm really going to get it! Oh shit!" Ellen exclaimed.
"What's the big deal?" Geraldine asked, "Just pick it up on Monday."
"You don't know my mother," Ellen said, "She's going to flip out. Let's hurry; I don't want to be any later than I already am."
With Ellen rushing them along them made their way back to the road leading to their homes. As they rapidly walked along a car pulled up next to them.
"Hi girls. Want a ride?"
It was Geraldine's mother. They both piled into the auto.
"Great," said Ellen, "It would have taken us another fifteen minutes to walk and I'm late already," Ellen said.
"Ellen is being a worry wart," Geraldine said to her mother, "She's afraid she's going to be grounded for the rest of her life because she's a little late getting home."
"Grounding is not what I'm worried about," Ellen said.
"So what do you think is going to happen?" Mrs. Bechard asked.
Ellen did not reply. She just looked out the window. Geraldine's mother thought that that was a little strange but she did not pursue the matter. Teenagers could be moody as she well knew.
When they arrived at Ellen's house Mrs. Bechard said that that she had to pick up something from Mrs. Donahue, Ellen's mother, so they all went into the house.
"Finally you're here," Mrs. Donahue said to Ellen, "You're more than an hour late. Where were you?"
"We were at the mall," Geraldine chimed in, "I didn't have my watch so we lost track of the time."
"The mall is full of clocks. Ellen, you could have been on time if you had been paying attention," Mrs. Donahue countered, "You can't rely on your friend to keep track of things for you."
"Sorry, Mom," was all Ellen could say in reply.
"Now I am going to be late for the party," Ellen's mother said, "Your farther has been ready for over an hour. Where's my dress?"
"Welllll, it's like this," Ellen answered slowly.
"It's like what?" Mrs. Donahue said angrily, "Where is my dress?"
"Well, the dry cleaners were closed when I got there," Ellen sheepishly replied.
"What! You mean that not only are you late but that didn't pick up my dress either?" Ellen's mother exclaimed, "I have everything picked out to go with that dress, shoes, handbag, everything. Now I am going to have to wear another old ensemble that I've worn twenty times before. You're going to get it good."
Mrs. Bechard said nothing during this whole scene. She knew what it was like to deal with a seventeen year old daughter who only paid attention to about one quarter of what her parents told her.
They were in the Donahue's kitchen. Mrs. Donahue stomped over to the counter and pulled open one of the drawers. Ellen's eyes went wide when she saw her mother take a wooden paddle from the drawer.
"I'm late but I have time to take care of you and your bad, inconsiderate behavior," Ellen's mother promised.
Ellen glanced at Geraldine and her mother and said, "No, no. Not now."
"Yes, now," Mrs. Donahue said, "They are going to see what disobedient girls get in this household."