Teenage-Girl-First-Bare-Bottom-Spanking

Teenage Girl Gets Her Very First Bare-Bottom Spanking
Spanked by Stepdad in Front of Younger Boys at Age 16
She's Reduced to a Crying, Naked, Jiggling Spectacle

Originally published October 12, 2013

Probably the most important thing for a teenage girl who is entrusted with babysitting younger boys is for to have them respect her authority. After all, when you tell them to behave for either their own safety or for your sanity you need them to know that it's an order not a request, even though you may not be that much older than them.

For example, when you tell them it's time for their bath and you need them to undress, they'll comply - however reluctantly and despite their embarrassment - if they recognize your authority as loco parentis.

But imagine what happens to all that respect you've built up over time when suddenly one day they see your upturned, completely bare bottom being spanked by your stepdad, your unfastened bra falling to the floor and, upon your standing up and clenching your sore butt with both hands, see a naked, crying, giggling, spectacle before them?

Ashamed? Humiliated? Wanting to crawl into a hole and hide? Owned - when you later feel like you're the one being babysat by them because of their constant teasing?

That's how I felt when this happened to me at age 16.

The catalyst was me wearing this bikini.



It was in the spring of 2002, when I had just completed 10th grade. I had a drivers license and I was looking forward to becoming a high school junior that fall (when I'd also turn 17). I had built up a commendable babysitting practice among neighborhood families and family friends. In short, my teachers, classmates, neighbors and the kids I babysat never would have thought of me as having my bottom routinely bared for disciplinary purposes, crying like a little girl as I rubbed my sore red bottom. But once the word got around, I knew they'd think of me in no other light.

I had already had several close calls at home and at family gathering and had not escaped embarrassment.

For example, when I was 13 and we were all at my stepdad's brother's house for a 4th of July weekend barbeque my younger brother Matt and I started fighting and arguing about something. We were running around and our stepdad told us to stop or we'd get spanked right in front of everyone. But we didn't stop and ended up tipping over a potted plant, breaking it and he called us over.

We didn't immediately listen, so he called us again, even more sternly. When we approached, he grabbed me first while yelling at Matt. But Matt talked back so he let me go for the moment and grabbed Matt, as I stood there. He then grabbed Matt's shorts and briefs, yanking them both down to his knees at the same time, spun him around and then spanked him about ten times on his bare butt, as Matt cried and tried to pull his t-shirt down in front of himself since my stepdad's young nieces (who were about 7 and 5 at the time) were standing there and giggling at Matt.

When he was done with Matt, who ran off to a corner of the yard, embarrassed and crying, I was next. Only I didn't have a long t-shirt on to try to yank down lower. Just a tank top that exposed my midriff. My stepdad was already upset at me that my mom let me wear that, along with shorts, and now I was wishing I had worn a longer top.

He then made me turn around (my back toward him) as he placed his fingers inside my shorts and panties to pull them both down in one swoop like he did to Matt. As I prepared for the inevitable, I remember looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact with his two teenage nephews who were standing there grinning, as well as a young couple sitting nearby and several other of my stepdad's relatives.

But my shorts were on too tight. So my stepdad yelled and swore at me to turn around. When I did, he started undoing the snap and zipper on my shorts and they were soon down at my knees.

It was pretty darn hot and I had brought a bathing suit to change into later, as my stepdad's brother and his wife had a pool. But it's just as well that I hadn't as my stepdad obviously wouldn't have had any problem pulling my bikinis bottoms down!

With my shorts at my knees and slipping down towards my ankles, my stepdad then spun me around by my hips and grabbed the sides of my panties, as his two teenage nephews looked at me and smirked.

He then pulled my panties down off my hips, lowering them inside-out down over my thighs. I gasped in horror knowing my mound, my wispy though still sparse pubic hair and my slit were fully visible.

Trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, I nonetheless could hear the boys snickering in front of me, as well as voices from behind me, guests who were naturally curious after Matt had received his spanking.

Just then another guest walked behind me (and my fully exposed rear end) and told my stepdad that his brother needed help in the house with something (turns out, his brother had burnt the meat and needed my stepdad to run to the store).

As they chatted for over a minute, closer to two, I stood there, exposed, my stepdad's nephews grinning and pointing at me and whispering comments to each other (thank God this was before camera phones!). Though my panties were still barely caught up between my legs, I was otherwise fully exposed and of course my whole backside was, too, to anyone looking at me from behind.

Finally, my stepdad said, "I'll deal with you later." (luckily, my mom intervened when we got home). The guest, a middle-aged woman, looked down at me, chuckled and walked away.

My stepdad then got up and walked away, too, but only after slapping me once on my thigh instead of my butt as I turned. As his two nephews continued to stare and grin at me, I pulled up my panties and shorts and ran off crying to find my mom.

Not long after I turned 15, I suffered the embarrassment of having my pants pulled down in front of not only my younger brother, but two neighborhood boys his age (one whom I babysat) and our younger male cousin. I escaped a spanking that day only because my brother confessed it was he who had broken a window while we were playing catch outside.

But before his confession, I nearly got spanked. My stepdad called me over and told me, as the boys all giggled, to get my pants down because he was going to teach my "bare butt a lesson."

When I hesitated, my stepdad spun me around to face the boys and then reached around me. My pants were soon unbuttoned and then unzipped for me. I was wearing a mid-riff bearing crop top, so nothing would be giving me any cover whatsoever.

As goose bumps covered me and my face blushed with the boys looking at me, my pants were soon roughly pulled down to my ankles to a few snickers from a couple of the boys.

Not one to waste any time, my stepdad then quickly slipped his fingers inside the waistband of my panties, which had already betrayed me and had lowered themselves enough to expose the top of my mound when my pants came down.

As my brother looked cautiously relieved that I, not him, was the one about to be spanked, the other three boys grinned at me in anticipation, their eyes riveted on my panties and the mysterious area to them that was about to be fully revealed.

At that point, I desperately wanted to avoid eye contact with the boys and yet found I couldn't avoid it, as if somehow I was hoping against hope to see them look away at the last moment.

Then, somehow, just as I started to feel the inevitable tug at my panties, I am ashamed to say that I disgracefully managed to blurt out and plead that I shouldn't be spanked, that my brother had made the errant throw that had broken the window.

Though a few more giggles ensued, my stepdad stopped the downward motion of his fingers and my panties - although much more of my mound and large wisps of my pubic hair were now exposed - were staying up, barely, for the moment at least.

My brother, with a fear of dread on his face, was then asked who broke the window. I didn't move a muscle, my stepdad saying if he didn't answer in three seconds, he'd be spanked "next."

My brother could have lied or he could have accused me. Or he could have simply told the truth, that a mere moments before I switched places with him after nearly hitting the window myself. Then both of us would have been spanked for sure, but at least he would have insured that I shared the same fate as he would.

But my brother quickly admitted that it was he who broke the window. Almost as quickly as I was told to pull up my pants, my brother was soon having his unfastened and pulled down.

Then in the fall of 2001, not long after I had turned 16, I nearly got a humiliating spanking in front of both of my brothers. My older brother Bobby, two years my senior, hadn't been present during my earlier 'near-misses' but he sure was one weekend morning to see me embarrassed.

Whenever my mom was out of town, my stepdad expected me to do much of the cooking. My brothers never failed to show their appreciation and would sometimes pinch in, if only to set the table or help clean up the dishes afterward.

But our stepdad? He always acted as if he was in a restaurant. And he'd never fail to find something to complain about. He'd bitch about the toast not being dark enough, the coffee too weak or not enough salt on the eggs. Something was always not perfect enough for him.

On that particular weekend while fixing breakfast for him and my brothers, I got so sick of his complaining I told him that if he didn't like it that he should, "Fix breakfast yourself."

It was a spontaneous outburst from me, instantly regrettable and certainly not wise, given that he was already angry at Matt who had received a spanking the day before. My quip got me a slap across the face.

When I answered back with a "What the fuck was that for?" without warning he grabbed and pulled me over his knee. He then grabbed the inside back of my panties and jeans and started yanking them down. Had he done so with me standing up I'd have been doomed.

When I quickly let out a stream of frantic, desperate "I'm sorry's" he suddenly stopped with my jeans nearly halfway down off my butt.

I thought my pleas were being granted, but in reality it was because my jeans were so tight they couldn't be pulled down off my butt without being unfastened.

I was ordered to stand up and my heart leapt to my throat as I knew what was coming next: he would unfasten my pants to get them down and my panties were sure to go down with them.

My older brother just watched, not saying a word. But Matt smirked at me as he was anticipating watching his older teenage sister not only get a spanking in front of him for the first time but to get it bottomless as well.

After I stood up, my stepdad reached around me and began unfastening my pants. I looked down to the floor in embarrassment rather than face my brothers who were sitting a half dozen or so feet away at the kitchen table.

With my pants unfastened, my stepdad then reached for my zipper and once it was unzipped all the way he began to pull my jeans down off my hips.

I pleaded again just long enough that fate once again saved my butt, literally. The phone rang. My stepdad got up off the chair and walked to the other side of the kitchen to grab the call.

As I stood there, dreading what would almost certainly happen in a few moments, my brother Bobby smirked at me and said, "Shaving it for the new boyfriend, Becky?" At the same time, my stepdad muttered something about the eggs.

I yelled out, "Shut up!"

Realizing that my mound was exposed to the top of my slit and that both my brothers could tell I was obviously "shaving it," I then yanked my panties up the rest of the way so fast that my jeans slide down off my thighs to around my knees.

Having been preoccupied with his phone conversation, my stepdad turned around and glaring at me said, "What did you say?"

I said "nothing" which led him to think all the more I had back-talked to him. But Bobby quickly spoke up and said he was teasing me about my jeans falling down.

But I was unable to escape fate forever.

And on one spring day in 2002, events would conspire against me that would have a profound effect on me through this day.

I had put on and was showing my mom a new g-string tie thong bikini that I had bought at the mall the day before and which I intended to wear at an upcoming beach outing with my girlfriends. My mom was fine with it.



My older brother was away with friends, checking out his new college campus. My stepdad, my younger brother Matt (who had just graduated 8th grade) and his friend Vaughn (the boy who I regularly babysat, along with his four younger siblings), who was 12, had gone out.

I had already been babysitting Vaughn, his younger brother and three younger sisters for several years. Their mom was a close friend of my mom's from college. Colleen was about 40 at the time, the same age as my mom back then. Ironically, Colleen had babysat me when I was younger.

Despite having a cold, I had promised Vaughn's parents that the next night I would babysit their kids I had done so for the prior three years when needed. But would soon end up dreading the thought of even facing Vaughn again after what was about to transpire. But my mom had a meeting the next night and my younger brother Matt was going out with friends to the movies.

I also didn't want to be around in our house alone with my stepdad, since he'd be sure to pick on me some more. So I reluctantly kept my promise to babysit despite the added embarrassment that ended up coming with it. Plus, Colleen is great. In fact, much to her kids' amusement, she liked to note the irony of how when I was a baby she used to change my diapers and now, here I was, babysitting her kids, giving them their baths and so on. Unfortunately by the time that weekend was over they had a lot more to be amused about.

After my real dad died before I had turned three (he was killed by a drunk driver), Colleen was very supportive for my mom in a difficult time. Later, when my mom began dating again and eventually married my stepdad, Colleen babysat me, even after her own kids were born.

Her husband, a Englishman with a Roger Moore-like voice and good looks too, traveled a lot for work. So it was not unusual for me to watch their kids for a few hours, a whole evening or, in summertime with school out, and not infrequently even overnight.

They have a big house and a great rec room. On hot days, Colleen sometimes asked me to take the kids to the local pool (they didn't have one in their yard). On cold winters nights, it might be popcorn and TV, playing Monopoly or helping them with homework.

The kids themselves were pretty much well-behaved. At least with me. They liked to tell me that I was their favorite babysitter (also the most frequent one), which was so sweet. Vaughn was the oldest at 12. His brother Cameron was seven. The three girls, Courtney, Jessica and Sabrina, were 10, 8 and 5 at the time.

Vaughn was a little wild at times and could get his younger siblings going to. But sometimes it would be the girls teasing their brothers. But in all seriousness if most kids behaved like they all did most of the time, their parents would be pleased.

As for me, I was never what you would call a 'strict' or 'mean' babysitter, not one who would order kids to bed just so I could talk on the phone with my boyfriend, watch TV or whatever. Spanking another parent's kid was out of the question, although I would sometimes (though rarely) resort to the dreaded "I will call your parents" if you don't behave line, though I never had a problem with Colleen's kids.

Anyway, as I stood there wearing the bikini, my mom and I were talking in the kitchen and didn't realize my stepdad, my younger brother Matt and Vaughn had returned. She then headed out the back door to the driveway to go shopping, (unknown to me, she later came back in to use the bathroom and get something).

I headed out from the kitchen to go upstairs to change out of the bikini. That's when my stepdad saw me. That alone was embarrassing, Matt and Vaughn giggling as I blushed having them see me in a bikini, that I will admit, didn't cover a whole lot.

My stepdad, however, was furious with me. He started yelling at me, ''What the fuck are you wearing?''

I told him as matter-of-factly, it was a new thong bikini I had bought to wear to the beach.



He said, "Like hell you will" and proceeded to order me to get upstairs and change.

I told him, yes, I was going to change, but that's what I would be wearing to the beach. He said no "STEPdaughter" of his was going to be walking around looking like a two-bit stripper. I lashed right back, saying no "STEPfather" of mine was going to tell me how I could dress. And it basically got worse from there.

We continued arguing and shouting at each other until he suddenly grabbed me and put me over his knee, saying by the time he was done I "wouldn't want any guys looking at my bare ass."

I can still visualize my brother's face, smirking, as I struggled over my stepdad's lap, basically trying to let myself fall off his lap to avoid the spanking, when his first hard slap hit more of my thigh than my butt and I did indeed almost fell off his lap.

Pulling me up again, he then untied my string bikini bottoms and pulled down the back portion of it, out of my butt crack and down below my bottom.

Out of fear if I fell off his lap, my bottoms would fall off completely, I changed strategies. Instead, I reached around my back with both my hands, interfering with his attempts to spank me.

He kept ordering me to put down my hands, but I refused. He grabbed my right hand with his and held it behind my back. So I kicked up my feet as he continued to spank me. Then he yelled that if I kept insisting on trying to block his slaps with my left arm and hand, he'd give them something to do. So, without warning, he yanked hard on the string of my bikini top, undoing it.

As it fell to the floor, my brother's friend Vaughn giggled at my exposure. I gasped and then pulled my left arm back from behind me, trying to cover my exposed breasts as best I could, my right arm still being held behind my back.

My stepdad then placed his left leg over mine, holding then down. Resigning myself to the inevitable, I then winced in pain as one hard slap after another crashed down on my bare bottom. I was soon crying, begging him to stop to no avail and only the unexpected intervention of my mom, who thankfully heard me crying when she had come back into the house, avoided a much more prolonged spanking. Still, my butt was really stinging from his repeated slaps.

My mom and stepdad started arguing, her telling him to stop spanking. He responded that I was disrespectful and nothing but a "spoiled brat" and he didn't want me going to the beach looking like a "slut" and embarrassing him. I was still over his lap as they argued for another minute or so, though he had stopped swatting me.

Then he slapped me one more time on my bare bottom, one that really stung, and then he let go of my right arm, warning me if I ever wore that "slutty outfit" again, he'd finish what he started. (And, yes unfortunately for me, he was a man of his word when I was caught having worn it to the beach.)



I heard my mom telling my brother something like, "Matt, go upstairs into Becky's bedroom and grab her green dress, the one she had on yesterday. It should be hanging on the door."

As I practically fell off my stepdad's lap and then stood up, I threw my hands behind me, holding and rubbing my bottom in pain for more than a few seconds, tears rolling down my cheeks, holding the untied strings of one side of my bikini bottoms.

Then I froze, opened and blinked my eyes clear of the tears. Sure enough, to my horror, Matt's friend Vaughn was still in the room, sitting on a couch a few feet away in front of me with a wide grin on his face. I gasped, threw my arms in front of my breasts and turned away from him, facing the wall in humiliation.

As my mom and stepdad continued to argue, her telling him that lots of teenage girls wear thong bottoms to the beach nowadays, him telling her that he has seen strippers dressed more modestly than me. Then from behind my back I heard Matt snickering as he was probably handing my dress to my mom.

My mom walked over, picked up my bikini top from the floor and pulled my bottoms back up into place and tied the strings. Then she touched me on my shoulder and led me out of the room as I held my arms in front of my breasts and into the kitchen where I put on the dress and my shoes. She then took me out with her to go shopping, but my butt was so sore I couldn't even sit in the car, laying down across the back seat. I even took my thong bottoms off.

We first went to a park, where we got out of the car and just slowly walked or stood, since I still couldn't sit comfortably. I told my mom how much I hated my stepdad and so on. My mom said she didn't think there was anything wrong with the swimsuit, but that he was stubborn and I shouldn't provoke him. I finally blurted out what I had been holding back for years: "Why don't you divorce him?" Little did I know at that time she was already taking steps to do so.

We talked about my real dad, how much he loved me when I was a baby, how his death effected her, how things would have been different had he lived. We must have talked for a couple hours, crying, laughing, sometimes just staring at the birds and flowers. By then I was able to sit in the car and we went shopping.

When we got home, I avoided my stepdad the rest of the evening, not to mention my brother and his friend Vaughn. Of course there was never any apology from my stepdad for humiliating me. He felt that just went with the territory. If anything he felt I had gotten away with not being punished as severely as he thought I deserved.

As I noted, I reluctantly kept my promise to babysit despite the added embarrassment that ended up coming with it. But as I was soon to find out my days as a respected, well-liked and obeyed babysitter were over.

After Vaughn had witnessed me turned into a crying, naked, jiggling spectacle over my stepdad's lap the day before I was to babysit them again, he knew my shame was a weakness that could be exploited - and exploited it was.

Although I was already coming down with a cold and didn't feel good, I also didn't want to let Colleen and her husband down. They really need me to babysit that night, which I was told might be an overnighter if they got back too late from a wedding they were attending.

I had a good guess that Colleen had heard some of the details of my spanking from Vaughn. When after I arrived at the house she asked - without mentioning the spanking - how I was in a very gentle, concerned way. Of course, Vaughn's brother and sisters knew too; I found that out when a giggling Cameron asked me if my butt was still red.

Before Colleen and her husband even left, I got another hint of what kind of an usual unruly afternoon and evening it would when Vaughn and his 8-year old sister began fighting, ending with him swatting Jessica on her butt, saying if she didn't behave that night that their father would spank her like my stepdad spanked me. (Ironically, the girl later made Vaughn pay for that remark in a most embarrassing way at bath/bedtime). He then pushed the pouting girl onto the couch but earned a swat on his own behind from his mom in the process.

The whole weekend was horrible, which I blame on my stepdad. If he hadn't been such a miserable jackass, Vaughn would have never seen me exposed and spanked, wouldn't have gotten his younger brother and sisters all riled up about it that weekend and I likely would have avoided additional embarrassment.

As it was, I ended up feeling as though I had be transformed back into a five-year girl by the time the weekend was over.

I wound up getting quite sick that first night at their house, after having accidentally pushed into a bathtub full of water while trying to break up a fight between the two boys when the 7-year old was getting ready for his bath.

After sitting in my soaked clothes the rest of the evening, my cold got worse and I came down with the chills bad and with a high fever. As soon as Colleen and her husband got back from the wedding and reception they had attended, the first thing she did was to get me out of my wet clothes and sponge bathe me to bring my temperature down.

As I stood in the bathtub fully naked, shivering with the chills while Colleen rubbed me down with a warm washcloth, the partially open door swung open completely. And in walked both boys, 12-year old Vaughn and 7-year old Cameron.

Colleen didn't even immediately notice them. Nor did I, as I was standing with my eyes closed, already embarrassed at being bathed like a little kid by Colleen.

After who knows how many moments passed, Colleen heard the giggled first and scolded them for walking into the bathroom. That's when I opened my eyes to see both boys standing about only four feet away from me, eyeing me up and down.

Cameron, the younger boy, giggling as he looked me up and down, said, "But I just wanted to see if Becky was o.k."

"Well, you saw her. Now out!" Colleen ordered as the boys giggled at her unintentional pun.

As both boys turned and walked out, still giggling, Colleen called Vaughn back in. Needless to say, Cameron also returned, standing in the doorway, mouthing "shame, shame" at me.

His mom then asked Vaughn to go downstairs and heat up some towel in the clothes dryer and bring them back up. Both boys then left the bathroom and Colleen gave me a sympathetic smile in an attempt to ease my embarrassment.

Colleen then resumed giving me the sponge bath and then toweled me off quickly, ushering me into the adjoining bedroom to take my temperature.

As if the peeking-in by the boys into the bathroom as I stood in the bathtub as Colleen sponge-bathed me wasn't embarrassing enough, Colleen couldn't find the regular thermometer to take my temperature. She did have a quite different one, a certain type of one she used when her kids were babies.

Colleen's husband had to get ready to head out to the airport for a unexpected early departure for a business trip and Colleen was going to drive to a 24-hour pharmacy to try to find and buy a regular oral thermometer and save me from the embarrassment (the only other choices, having Colleen take me, with the 5 kids in tow, to the emergency room at the hospital or driving me home and letting my stepdad deal with me were dismissed without giving a second thought).

I was already feeling quite badly that I had inconvenienced them by being sick and I certainly didn't want her going out past midnight alone to some store. And since knowing what was my temperature was imperative... Well, as I said, she had diapered me when I was a baby, so...

I don't know how much of me Colleen's husband later saw of me as I laid on the bed with the rectal thermometer up my butt. But I could hear them talking right outside the partially opened guest bedroom door. I would hope he probably averted his eyes even if he could have otherwise saw me.

But I just wish the boys didn't peek again when Colleen left the guest bedroom for a few minutes to talk with her husband as I laid on the bed naked with my bottom up and the rectal thermometer sticking out of my butt hole.

Both boys stood at the foot of the bed, having come in the bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, the older boy using the excuse when their mom walked back in that he was just bringing up the warm towels from the clothes dryer downstairs his mom requested.

Perhaps Colleen assumed the boys would leave the room as she turned her attention to me or perhaps she figured, 'what's the point now.' But she did not, this time, yell at the boys to leave the room. As I buried my head in shame in the pillow, I felt her hands gently pat my still reddened bottom as she then eased the thermometer out of me.

Colleen voiced concerned over the temperature then told me to stand up. I rolled over onto my back, then belatedly clasped my legs tightly together after seeing both boys' mouths gape open. I was soon standing, as Colleen dried and rubbed me with the warm towels.

She then told me she wanted to get one more reading and I was soon back on the bed, face down, with the thermometer back in my butt. Colleen then gently scolded her sons to "try to give Becky some privacy" but then headed downstairs as her husband was leaving.

During the three or four minutes she was out of the room, I tried to ignore the snickering and giggles from the boys, who remained in the bedroom staring at me. When Colleen returned, she took the thermometer out of my butt and said it was reading 102. She again told me to turn over, which I did, more modestly (if it even mattered now) than last time.

Colleen then laid several warm towels down over me from my shoulders down to my toes and told me that she'd check on me in an hour. She pointed out a bell on the nightstand and instructed the boys to call her if I indicated I needed anything. She then closed the light and told the boys to go to bed.

Several times during the night, Colleen took my temperature until it dropped under 100. She warmed up a blanket and took away the towels and I slipped underneath the sheet and the blanket for warmth.

More awkwardness occurred during the middle of the night when I needed to pee and Cameron walked in on me from the adjacent boys' bedroom.

Neither the sheet nor the blanket was covering me when I awoke in the morning, but both boys were present, grinning at me.

When school started up in the fall, Vaughn embarrassed me further one day in front of his friends (including two other kids I babysat) when I went to pick up him, his brothers and sisters for their mom, the other kids finding out all the embarrassing details.

He was only 12 at the time and was a pretty decent kid so he wasn't being intentionally cruel or anything. Plus, at that age for a boy to see his 16-year old female babysitter in very compromising positions... let's just say I had pretty much got "owned."

After that day, whenever Colleen asked me to watch her kids (which was about as often as in the past, in other words, frequently), I often felt as though I was the one being babysat, with the kids often teasing me about the frequent spankings I was now receiving (them knowing that due to my younger brother's big mouth!).

Years later, when he graduated high school, we were invited to the party his parents had at their house. Vaughn came up to me and said he just wanted to apologize to me for being a jerk and for embarrassing me back then, which I thought was sweet for him to say.