Switch Sister

 Spankings were by no means rare in my home. It was rare for a week to go
by without either me or my sister getting a bare ass spanking from our
mother, using her favorite instrument, an eighteen inch wooden ruler. Of
course on those rarer occasions when our misdeeds warranted his attention
we could depend on a severe belt strapping from our father, but those
averaged about every four months or so, nothing like the regularity of our
mother's punishments. She was a little more then obsessed with issues of
cleanliness, politeness and punctuality then I as a young boy could ever
be, but she tried very hard to impress upon me the importance of such
things, often using her ruler to make her point.
 Now my sister, Jenny, though no angel, was certainly better at pleasing
my mother then I was, and so was subject to fewer spankings. She was two
years older then me though and perhaps had just learned sooner how to
avoid such punishments. But she had a lot of my mother's personality, and
probably avoided more punishment just by being almost perfect as she was.
 When I was twelve my mother started to work evenings, a situation that
left me and my sister in the care of our father four nights a week. The
fifth night, Wednesday, he would be gone for at least three hours to the
bowling alley. He was a faithful member of the company team. For the first
four weeks our parents insisted on paying for a babysitter, a sixteen year
old neighbor girl, to stay with us on Wednesday nights, a situation that
embarrassed and angered my sister to no end, which was good enough for me
to be delighted with it. By the fifth week Jenny had convinced them that
she was responsible enough to watch me, and that she was cheaper then the
neighbor girl, whose raids on our refrigerator had reached legendary
proportions. So on the fifth Wednesday after our mother started working, I
was left by my father in the care of my sister with the clear
understanding that she was in charge.
 The first part of that first evening passed rather uneventfully, with me
watching television, while my sister chatted on the phone with her stupid
friends. Around nine she put down the phone long enough to tell me to go
to bed, a request I simply ignored. Although my mother still insisted I go
to bed at nine on school nights, my father had not strictly enforced that
rule since he had taken over, and our babysitter had been pretty lax as
well. I'd gotten used to getting to bed around ten or so, a more
reasonable bedtime for a boy my age. Five minutes later my sister put down
the phone again.
 "Go to bed, Tommy." she said "Now."
 "In a little while." I replied as I turned back to the TV. She mumbled
something  into the phone about having to deal with her little brother,
and hung up. She walked into the kitchen only to reappear in the living
room moments later with mom's ruler.
 "Come here, Tommy," she said as she sat on the couch.
 "What for?" I questioned from my spot on the floor.
 "You've been disobedient. I have to spank you for that before I send you
to bed."
 "You can't spank me, you're not mom." I offered her more defiance.
 "I'm in charge." she stated "If you don't do as I say I have the right to
spank you. Now get over here." she mocked mom's authoritarian air
perfectly.
 "No way." I called her bluff.
 "Fine then," she surrendered "I guess I'll just have to tell dad what
really happened to the car door."
 "You can't." I knew that if dad found out the scratches on the car door
came from my bike crashing into it that he would give me the belting of my
young life."Please, he'll kill me if he finds out."
 "But if you won't let me punish you, I'll just have to let dad do it. You
can pretend ten or twelve of those spanks count for disobeying me."
 "No please." I had turned around and was practically on my knees begging
her.  "I'll do anything."
 "Come here," she pointed the ruler to a spot on the floor to her right. I
stood slowly and walked slowly to the spot she had pointed to, my young
mind still trying to find some way out of this situation. She had no
secrets that I could use against her. And it seemed reasonable to me that
my fourteen year old sister with a ruler would hurt less then my forty
year old father with a belt.
 "Please don't, Jenny." I begged as I reached her "I'll go to bed now."
 "You'll go to bed after I've taught you to obey." She grabbed the front
of my pants and unbuckled my belt. Seconds later my pants and underpants
were bunched up around my ankles, and my sister Jenny was pulling me
across her denim clad lap. I was lying across her at an angle, my legs
dangling to the floor, my arms folded up beneath the rest of me against
the sofa seat. She leaned forward slightly, pressing her  left arm against
the small of my back, pinning me to the sofa the same way mom would.
 She whipped the ruler across my young bottom with surprising force, a
line of fierce pain ripping across my tender buns. I stifled the scream
that wanted to leap from my throat. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction
at that point. I continued to be surprised by the series of blows that
followed, each one biting into my skin with more force then I could have
imagined. I barely heard the sharp smacks echoing through the room, my
mind was too absorbed in registering the pain to register the sound. It
was brought to my attention when my sister punctuated her question "Are
you listening to me?" with three hard spanks.
 "Yes, ma'am." I croaked.
 "Then from now on." she laid another hard spank across the center of my
rear. It both sounded and felt like she had placed a firecracker on my
ass. "You will do as you are told." Another firecracker went off across
the top of my left thigh.
 "OOOWWW" I screamed. "I will. I PROMISE." A vow that did little to stop
my sister from continuing to spank me.
 "When (SMACK) I'm (CRACK) through with you (WHACK) I bet you will." Again
she used the ruler to punctuate her point, finding some unmarked flesh a
bit lower on my right thigh. She began to spank her way back up my thighs
and across my bottom, covering every inch of my already burning flesh with
new pain. I discovered then that whatever restraint guided my parents in
their application of punishment did not extend to my sister. She, for
quite a time longer then I could have imagined, was merciless, and I, by
the time she was finished, was crying and screaming more then I had during
my last belting.
 Then there was silence. The rain of sharp pains had been replaced by the
dull ache, the smoldering heat and the tingling that usually followed such
severe punishment. I started to push my self up from her lap.
Embarrassment had replaced pain as my primary concern. But she held me
down.
 "Please. No more. I'll be good." I was panicking.
 "Hush." she whispered softly. "I'm not going to spank you anymore." Her
hand was cool as she gently caressed the burning skin on my bottom,
something my mother had never done. "God you're hot." she was amazed by
the fire that she had set. I was amazed by how good her cool touch felt
against my tortured flesh. It was arousing, and I'm sure that she could
feel my young penis start to get hard against her thighs, but that  didn't
stop her from continuing to explore my butt. "I hope from now on you do as
you are told when I'm left in charge." She slapped my left cheek to drive
home her point. "I will spank you again, if I need to." Then she let me
up, hugged me and sent me off to bed.
 I know I didn't enjoy the spanking while it was happening, but once I got
up to my room I masturbated thinking about it, and the incredible
sensation of Jenny's gentle caresses that followed it. I didn't know at
the time, but my relationship with my sister had drastically changed.
 The next Wednesday Jenny found another excuse to give me a spanking, and
the threat of telling father about the damage to his car was still
sufficient to guarantee my cooperation. At the time it seemed much worse
then the one the week before, but it was probably only slightly harder and
longer. Again the spanking was followed with the gentle caressing of my
hurting bare behind. Again I followed it with the less then gentle
caressing of my erection. Within four weeks I accepted my sister's
authority and her right to punish me if I didn't obey her. The Wednesday
evening spanking had become a tradition.
 In the two years that followed my bottom was subjected to as wide a
variety of spankings, paddlings, and whippings as you could imagine. My
sister was bored with the ruler after two months and started in with
wooden spoons, metal spatulas, hickory switches and leather belts. I
frequently provided her justifiable reasons for the punishments from
failing to do homework or chores to the time I hung up the phone while she
was talking to a boy she really liked (and the work she did on my bottom
with my own belt after that incident is a whole other story.) I do not
know if I understood at the time my own complicity in these punishments,
but it is clear to me now that I was as responsible for them as my sister.
 When my sister turned sixteen my mother convinced my father that
spankings were no longer an appropriate punishment, and after that she was
never again spanked by my parents, she was grounded instead. I, of course,
was still subject to the disciplinary whims of both my parents and my
sister.
 Now it wasn't long after my parents changed their rules that my sister
tested them by staying out until 1:00 in the morning. I know my father
wanted to use his belt. He ranted and raved until 3:00 about how she
deserved to have her bottom beaten black and blue, and how if she had done
this four months ago she still wouldn't be able to sit down. I kept
expecting to hear the sharp crack of the belt against her flesh and the
loud screams of pain that I had come to expect from those rare occasions
when he whipped her. But I never did. He grounded her for three weeks and
went to bed. I finally got back to sleep only after imagining the
punishment that I knew she deserved.
 That Wednesday my father was again off to bowling and I was again left
alone with my sister. I wasn't aware that anything was different, and knew
that depending on her mood, or my behavior I could still be subject to a
butt searing. I was fourteen now, and certainly strong enough to prevent
my sister from punishing me. And father had stopped leaving her in charge
(verbally anyway) months ago. But as I said, I had become used to her
authority. I even respected it.
 Five minutes after father left Jenny was out the door.
 "Where you going." I asked.
 "Just to Stace's. I'll be back in a few." she left before I could say
anything else. But I knew I had her now. Father would see how ineffective
a punishment grounding was and give her a belting that would make the one
in my imagination seem weak. When she reappeared thirty minutes later I
told her so.
 "Only if you tell." she waved her finger at me, "and he'll probably just
ground me another three weeks. And if I have to spend another three weeks
locked up in this prison, I'll just take it out on your ass later."
 "It'll be worth it to hear your butt get beat again."
 "Oh he's not going to spank me anymore. Mom wouldn't let him. The only
way I'll ever get whipped again is if you do it yourself."
 "What?" my mind had clearly not registered what my ears had just heard. I
had frequently fantasized about turning the tables on my sister during my
many sessions over her knee, but had never, ever thought such a thing
would be possible.
 "I don't want to be grounded even another week. You're not going to be
satisfied till my bottom is red. I would rather have you punish me then
have dad find out. That is if your man enough."
 "I am." I didn't speak with any certainty. "You'd really let me do that?"
 "Why shouldn't you." she sighed "Your my brother. You've caught me doing
something wrong. Something that we both know I need to be punished for.
Its not any different then when I punish you. Its between us right. I
never tell on you after I punished you. You won't tell on me. Besides, we
both know you want to do it. Why wait to hear what might happen when you
can do it yourself and be certain." a strange smile came across her face
and she moved closer to me and whispered. "I've never had fun taking a
whipping in my life, and punishing anyone is a serious responsibility. So
if you're going to do it do it right, do it now."
 "Okay," I said, "Go bend over the couch." She moved quickly toward the
couch, the same couch she had sat on the first time she spanked me, the
same couch father had us bend over when he used his belt on us. She stood
behind the couch and bent over, her long blond hair falling across the
cushions, her faded jeans pulled tight across her round firm ass. I had
pulled my belt from my own jeans and doubled it into an instrument of
punishment as brutal as the one my father used. "Do you usually get
spanked with your jeans on?" I asked.
 "No." she straightened up. "Turn around please." She asked nice, and I
complied. I was curious to be sure, and that felt a little perverted since
she was my sister. I also didn't want to risk ruining this chance. I heard
the zipper and little else until "Okay, I'm ready."
 Boy was she ready. I was so nervous I looked at the floor, but the sight
of her jeans and panties bunched up around her ankles only served to
remind me that she was naked from the waist down. It also reminded me that
I had a job to do. My gaze moved slowly up the long lean legs, that she
held so close together, up the shapely, smooth skinned thighs to the pale,
twin globes of flesh perched atop the back of the couch. I wanted to touch
them, to caress the taut smooth surface of the perfect roundness, to
squeeze the pliant flesh in my hands. It was a perfect ass.
 "Okay, I'm ready." she said again, perhaps impatient or embarrassed by my
scrutiny of her bottom. I positioned myself to the left of her and raised
the belt in my right hand above my head. I brought it down in a smooth
weak stroke across the center of her butt, the resulting SPLAT echoing
weakly through the room. She didn't even seem to notice it. I struck
again, a little harder, bringing the belt almost to the same spot, the
smooth flesh barely pinkening under my weak blows. After five weak strokes
she spoke. "At this rate It'll take all week to punish me. Please just
give me what you think I deserve now and get it over with."
 It was good advice. I swung the belt at full force and watched as it
smashed into the tender twin globes. This time a loud CRACK accompanied
the stroke. The smooth flesh jiggled under the impact and a long red
stripe appeared across the center of her bottom. She held her silence as I
sent a second blow cutting into her soft white flesh, and as the third
CRACK echoed loudly through the room, and even as her body trembled under
the fourth stroke. A stifled teary "AAHH" followed the fifth CRACK and the
appearance of a harsh red stripe across the tender flesh where the
buttocks met the thighs.
 I had my rhythm down by the tenth hard stoke, and there wasn't an inch of
her formerly milky white bottom that was not bright red. She was sobbing
rather quietly between the strokes, only soft OOWWs, AAAHHs and OOOs
coming as the belt continued to bite into the tortured flesh. She was
never so silent when father whipped her, and I wasn't sure if that was
because she didn't want to frighten me or if I wasn't strong enough to
give her a proper whipping. So I started to strike harder. After the 20th
hit I started to scold her between the strokes. "I think you know better
(CRACK), young lady, (WHAP) then to violate (SMACK) your grounding.
(CRACK) If you can't (SMACK) take that punishment (THWACK) seriously
(CRACK) then perhaps (WHAP) you can (CRACK) take this one. (SMACK)." 
 "OH, GOD" she choked "I'm sorry." I sent another fiery stroke onto her
dark red bottom. "PLEASE, STOP" she begged. I burned another one into her
swollen flesh, and the loudest CRACK yet echoed through the room.
 "I'll stop." I strapped her across the thighs, across tender white skin.
"When I'm done." Another CRACK bounced off the round tortured globes, and
then another.
 "OH, PLEEAASSE!!!!" she begged me, her voice now as loud and tortured as
it was when father whipped her. I brought another down on her bottom, on
the horribly red skin and decided to lay the last five on her thighs.
"OOOOO, (CRACK) OOWWW, (CRACK) PLEASE, (CRACK) STOP, (CRACK)" I could
barely understand her as she screamed her pleas into the tear stained sofa
cushion. I brought the last stroke down on the very top of her thighs,
below where the dark red tortured flesh of her buttocks met the brighter
red that covered her thighs. Her knees buckled as the last stroke hit and
I almost thought she was going to fall off the sofa, but she knew better
then to fall out of position during a punishment.
 But I was done. My arm was tired. Jenny was sobbing loudly and her bottom
was a mess. The skin was dark red and swollen and bore half a dozen white
weals from where the the edge of the belt had torn into the flesh. Several
light bruises had begun to form on the right side of the right buttock
where the end of the belt had hit the hardest. I boldly decided to caress
her as she had often caressed me. She winced as my hands touched her
burning skin, but made no attempt to stop me as I explored the hot rough
surface of her bottom. It was incredible to me the amount of pain she had
been able to endure, the amount I had been able to inflict. My hands
lingered on her battered bottom for just a few minutes. "I hope you've
learned your lesson, young lady." I'm sure those words sounded ridiculous
coming from me, but they were similar to the words I had heard many times
before and seemed appropriate.
 "Yes, sir." she sobbed. "Could you please turn around so I can get up
now."
 "Sure," I backed away and took one last look at her beaten butt. It was a
vision I would not soon forget. I turned around. I heard her moan twice as
she pulled up her panties and then her jeans. Then she hugged me from
behind.
 "Thank you," that surprised me, I wasn't sure exactly what she meant "You
did that very well, which I guess is my fault for teaching you so well.
I'm going to have to sleep on my stomach tonight." She pressed her wet
cheek against mine. "I love you, Tommy. Good night." She released me and
walked slowly toward the stairs.
 I guess that was the essence of these punishments. Love. Both Jenny and I
had learned from our parents that punishment was a part of love, and our
parents just happened to use corporal punishment. So it was not really
surprising that Jenny and I should use corporal punishment as an
expression of our love and concern for each other. We benefited from
watching and correcting each other as much as we benefited from being
corrected by our parents. It made us better people. It still does. Even in
our young adulthood Jenny and I still correct each other. We confess our
sins to each other and receive the appropriate punishment. Jenny, of
course, was lucky enough to find someone to keep her line, maybe someday I
will be so lucky, until then I'm lucky to have a sister like Jenny.