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Rainy Days

By Lawrence Kinden All Rights Reserved ©


Chapter 1

When the storm came in, I was sitting at the window in Brygitta's tiny bedroom, watching the dark grey clouds flashing with bits of lightning. We had been studying math, but I was getting sick of it and stared out the window instead. I hated math, but she loved it and always helped me with my homework.

"You should go home," she said from behind me.

I turned. "I'm sorry. I'll get back to work."

"No, I mean, it's about to rain."

I was confused. What did rain have to do with me going home? From elsewhere in the house, came the sudden but unmistakable sounds of a spanking. She had two little sisters, one in first grade and one in second, babies compared to us middle schoolers. I'd seen her sisters getting spanked before, it was a fairly common event, but she suddenly looked frantic.

"You have to go now," she said.

But to leave, I'd have to go down the narrow stairs and through the living room, where the spanking was almost certainly taking place. "I'd rather not walk in on them getting spanked…" I started, but she shook her head.

"You don't understand—"

She was interrupted by a crack of thunder. I jumped and she grabbed ahold of me. For several moments we just held each other. Then the sound of crying little girls and footsteps on the staircase alerted us to the fact that we were about to be joined in the tiny attic bedroom over the shoe shop her parents owned.

Her mother opened the door and shooed the two crying little sisters into the room where they went immediately to bed, crying and rubbing their bottoms. I watched them, both amused at their plight and sorry for them. Her aunt came in behind them, making the tiny room crowded. They spoke to Brygitta in some language I didn't understand, neither of them speaking very good English. I think it was from Eastern Europe.

"I'm sorry," Brygitta said to me just before her aunt sat on the only stool in the room and bent Brygitta over her lap. I watched, stunned, thinking my friend was far too old for a spanking. Then her dress was flipped up and her panties pulled down and her aunt spanked her, quick and hard. I stared at my best friend's bottom as it was quickly turned red.

But that was nothing compared to my shock when her mother grabbed me by the wrist and knelt. She pulled me over her bent knee and pulled up my skirt, then slid down my panties, all while I just couldn't believe what was happening. Then it was my bare bottom getting spanked quickly and firmly. I gasped with the pain of it.

Still unbelieving, I looked over my shoulder at Brygitta's mother. She was focused with grim determination on making my butt red. I looked at the little sisters, staring at Brygitta and me with wide, teary eyes. Then I looked at Brygitta and realized that her nose was only an inch from mine. She was staring at me, crying openly.

I cried too.

With my butt on fire and my head confused, I watched Brygitta's mom and aunt scold us then point at the top bunk. Brygitta climbed into bed.

"Come on," she whispered urgently.

"What?" I thought she couldn't be serious, I thought none of this could have just happened, but her mother slapped my bottom hard, and I scurried up into the bed with her.

Once the door was closed, I got an explanation.

"My parents… they're not really… with the times." Brygitta whispered. "There's an old superstition of great-grandma's that kids get wild in a storm, that they'll want to go out in it and then they'll get sick or possessed or something stupid. So… so that's why we always get spanked and sent to bed when a storm comes."

"Oh," I whispered. I'd been spanked for many things: back talk, bad attitude, poor grades, but never just because a storm came in. "So, your mom was trying to save me from possession? That's awfully nice of her."

Byrgitta gave me a funny look and I snickered though my tears.

We both lay on our tummies on her narrow bunk, our bare bottoms still red and throbbing. I looked over my shoulder at my scarlet bottom and winced. I rubbed it gently.

"Your mom spanks awfully hard."

Brygitta nodded and put a hand to her own scarlet backside. "Mine's still warm. Feel."

Without thinking, I put my hand on her bare bottom. We both blushed. She was right. It was warm.

"Mine too," I whispered.

As I'd hoped, she put her hand on my bare bottom.

Outside, the storm continued, soaking the grey city, washing from it the stink of smoke that clung to its walls and sidewalks.

Brygitta shifted uncomfortably. "Do you mind if I turn on my side? It's a bit crowded up here."

I shook my head. She pulled up her panties and pulled down her skirt and shifted onto her side so that her spanked bottom was pointing toward me. Instinctively, I shifted so that I too was on my side. I pulled up my panties though it stung my bottom to do so. Then she snuggled up against me. I fancied I could feel the warmth of her spanked backside though the cloth, and my groin stirred.

Brygitta giggled, and we snuggled together through the storm.

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