Looking For Love: Part 4 of 6
Part 4: The Strip
As I left the room, I heard what I knew was coming, “Okay Karen, lets see your report card. By the way, I already know about your algebra grade. I had lunch today with Mr. More. Do you know what he told me? He says YOU DON”T EVEN TRY!” There was a moment of silence and then the request was repeated. “Karen, I want to see that report card and I want to see it right now. Lets have it”
I was already in my room, but I left my door ajar in hopes of hearing what was going on with Karen. All the sudden, I heard Ms. Kilpatrick’s booming voice end the silence. “Good God Karen – I have never in all my life - All C’s – one lousy B and an F. Not a single A. What in the heck have you been doing Karen– or should I ask - not doing?” Once again, she was asking questions that could not be answered without self-incrimination. Problem for Karen was that taking the 5th was not an option for her. After realizing that an answer was not forthcoming, Ms. Kilpatrick provided her own. “Mr. More is exactly right - YOU DON”T EVEN TRY. Well, young lady - that is where I come in. What you need is a good dose of “want to” – what my father called, “ persuasion” Get on your feet Karen, lets go to my room!”
Knowing they were on their way, I quietly pushed my bedroom door closed. As the pair passed by my room, I could hear Karen whimpering and starting to beg for mercy. A few seconds later, I heard the door to Ms. Kilpatrick’s and Dad’s bedroom slam closed. I cracked my door open and quickly tiptoed to the bathroom in hopes of being able to hear better. Taking a big chance, I left the bathroom light off and the door wide open. Although muffled, I could hear almost everything going on across the hall.
Ms. Kilpatrick’s voice was firm and steady as she prepared her daughter for punishment. “Karen, I want you to remove your jeans, fold them neatly and place them on my dresser. Don’t you dare look at me like that missy. I don’t feel sorry for you at all. I said get those jeans off and I mean it. I’m not going to ask you again Karen. Have you forgotten that I can and will take them off for you if I have to?”
All the sudden I could hear Karen’s frightened and desperate pleading. “Oh no! No… please no. Not the strip…. Please… please, I’m begging you Mommy.. please don’t use that thing on me. I’ll do good at school… please…”
“Oh, I know your going to do good in school. I’m going to see to that. You brought home that disgraceful report card and now, you get the strip! It’s not like you haven’t been warned. You got this one coming to you Karen. Okay, panties too. I don’t want anything to come between us during this talk.” There was another pause and I could hear Karen desperately begging and pleading. She sounded more like a five-year old than the teenager that she was. “No mommy.. please no. don’t do it…pleeezzzeeeeee don’t pleeeezeee… no…no…no mommy… I’m begging you….don’t ….don’t …don’t…don’t..” Within seconds a stern, determined and authoritative voice interrupted the childish mumbling. “I’m warning you Karen – when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Don’t you dare shake your head no at me young lady. Get em off right now – I want it bare! I’m going to tear up your naughty butt and I need to see how good of a job I’m doing.”
Poor Karen must have complied and bared herself as ordered because the next instruction was issued. “Karen, I want you to get on that bed and drape yourself face down over those pillows. Right now little lady – go on - do as you’re told. We’ve done this before - You know the drill. Face down, bottom up and get your hands under the pillows.”
Karen’s pitiful whimpering continued to increase as she was enduring the final preparatory stages for what was to come. “Move on forward – lift up your tummy Karen I need to double these pillows.”
“Pleeeezzzzzeeeee mommy… plllllzzzeeees.. not too hard… I’m begging you… I’m going to do better – I will – I will…..”
Once again, as the wasted pleading fell upon deaf ears, her mom cut her off. “Karen, please - shut your mouth and listen to me. Act your age. This isn’t easy for me either. It’s tearing me up to be in here and having to do something like this to you. I love you more than life itself. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You are precious to me. One of the two greatest gifts God ever blessed me with. I love you dearly and I care about your future. If there was another way, you know – I would be all for it. But we both know nothing else works with you. Isn’t that right Karen?”
Her mom’s kind and loving words had brought a refreshing moment of badly needed peace to the room and helped Karen to somewhat compose herself. Nevertheless, she responded to her mother’s question by resorting back to pleas for mercy. “I know, I know.. but please mommy.. please – just this one time. Give me one more chance. I’ll show you. I’ll do better. You will never see another report card like that again – ever. Just don’t spank me. Please, please – don’t.”
No words coming from Karen’s mouth could change what her mother had made up her mind to do. “I’ve told you about the last time Mom used the strip on me. I was a year older than you are right now. By the time she finished whipping my butt that night, we were both in tears. I knew how badly it had hurt her to have to punish me like that. That was the last time she ever had to spank me – let’s hope this is the last time I have to spank you Karen. Okay, let’s get this over with keep your hands under the pillow.”
Learning that her pardon had been denied, Karen’s desperate and pitiful mumbling resumed. Suddenly she cried out in agony. A second later, she screeched out another ear piercing scream. Then another and another and another and another… Although the screaming and crying was similar, the rest of what was going on sounded nothing like what I had heard coming from my grandmother’s bathroom when Jennifer was getting it with the belt. There was none of the loud cracking this time – just a hissing sound followed by a loud click and then Karen’s anguished cry. Whishhhhhhhhhhhh Splittttttt…..YEAOWWWWWWWWW.
Suddenly, there was a pause and I was in hopes the punishment was over. For the next few moments, all I could hear was Karen’s pitiful sobbing and saying no more mommy…pleeeezzzeeee no no no.. pleezzzeeee mommy pleeeezzee.”
As soon as Ms. Killpatrick finally spoke again, I knew it was not finished. “Karen, you are to get your hands off of your butt, get back up on that bed and drape yourself over those pillow. I was almost done when you did that.”
Karen’s blubbering was so pathetic that I wanted to burst into that room and stop what was taking place. “I can’t…..pleeeeezzzzeeee.. I’ve learned mommie…. No.. no…no.. don’t make me…pleeeeezzzeee… I’ll be good for ever…..no more…no more…can’t it be over?? ---- pleeeeezzzeeeee”
Sounding more determined than ever, her mom interrupted her daughter’s pitiful prayer. “No Karen, I’m sorry, we’re not done yet. Get back over the pillows – damn-it lets get this over with. It’s killing me. I hope you remember this next time you decide not to do your best at school. Please Karen, don’t you ever cause me to have to do something like this to you again. Please, get back over those pillows right now so we can finish it correctly.”
After a short pause I heard Karen start begging again, “Oh no…no no no mommy….No pleeeeezzzzeeee no – not the hairbrush.. pleeezzzeeeeee….oh no….” Her mother calmly responded, “Karen, you have elected to act like a little girl – so now - you’re going to get spanked like one. All right, get over my lap. Now give me your hand.” A second later it sounded like a freight train was going through that bedroom. Words cannot describe the haunting noises that filled that part of the house. Judging from the loud rapid pops of cracking hardwood against bare flesh, Ms. Kilpatrick’s relentless scolding and Karen’s frantic yelping and mournful sobbing, what was taking place behind that closed door was obviously a living hell.
After what seemed like an eternity, the awful cracking and vicious scolding ended and Karen’s bellowing slowly subsided to steady yet completely unintelligible blubbering and sobbing. Knowing it was ending, I quickly returned to my bedroom. As I moved past the closed door, I could hear Ms. Kilpatrick’s concerned and loving voice as she comforted and cared for her sobbing and well-punished eldest daughter. Once in my room, I could not make out what was being said but it was obvious that the session had entered into a much more gentle, loving and pleasant stage for both of the participants. Within an hour or so, I could hear Karen and her mother giggling and enjoying their special relationship and private moments together. It was almost ten o’clock when I finally heard the door open and Karen and her mother exchange parting words of love as they finally separated from their experience. Without even having a punishing finger touch me, I cried myself to sleep that night. Even knowing what Karen had endured and how much she had suffered, I wanted to trade places. I wanted to be her. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be Ms. Kilpatrick’s daughter and I wanted everything that went along with that honor and privilege. Jennifer and Karen were so lucky – they had what I needed so badly – a real mother that loved unconditionally
-- The End --