Never too old


never too oldBoth girls shifted uneasily in their seats at the back of Billy’s car.

Tammy glanced at her watch. Eight minutes past curfew. Perhaps she should have phoned.

“Late for something?” Mandy asked hopefully, herself now 38 minutes late.

“No I was just…” She was too old for a curfew anyway, Tammy thought, dismissing Mandy’s question.

“I mean it is a school night…” Mandy ventured nervously.

“Christ Mandy we’re 18, school’s so last year,” Tammy scoffed.

“Is Mandy going to get grounded?” Steve mocked in a teasing voice. Billy sniggered as he hit the gas and the horn at once.

Mandy considered her father’s belt and thought, I wish, as she blushed and fixed her eyes on the back of the seat in front so that she wouldn’t see Tammy’s sideways smirk.

The police siren startled them all.

“Quick lose the beer,” Steve said in a panicked voice.

As it turned out the beer wasn’t all that was lost. Billy couldn’t find his licence or remember the plate number of his father’s car. The boys were taken in and Tammy and Mandy got a ride home in the patrol car.

“Shit, my father’s going to kill me,” Mandy wailed close to tears.

“My mother won’t sweat it,” Tammy tossed back with more confidence than she felt. It had been a while since she’d had a session with her mother’s hairbrush. She was 18 now.

Tammy’s confidence melted as they pulled up outside Mandy’s house. Mandy’s father stood on the doorstep like statue with his arms folded across his chest. “Get in here,” he growled, “you ain’t gonna sit down for a week.”

Mandy blanched scurried out of the back of the police car and across the lawn into the house.

“Thank you officer, I can take it from here,” Mandy’s father called over with a grudging wave.

The trip from there was the longest four minutes of Tammy’s life.

“You going to catch it too?” The officer said sympathetically.

“No way,” Tammy blushed, “I’m far too old.”

The police officer pursed his lips and nodded, not at all convinced.

Tammy saw the front room curtains twitch as the car pulled up, but unlike Mandy’s dad, no one came to the door.

“I had best see you in,” the officer said in a gravelly authoritative voice.

As Tammy walked to the door ahead of the officer, her stomach turned summersaults, which seemed to get more vigorous after she rang the bell. Trust her to forget her key, she cursed.

Her mother looked calm as the door opened. “I trust there is no problem officer,” she said in a steely voice.

“No problem ma’am, it’s just that a girl is never too old to be escorted home after dark.” He saluted and then placed a paternal arm on Tammy’s shoulder.

Tammy could have sunk into the ground as her mother produced the hairbrush and snapped it against her palm. “You are right officer; a girl is never too old.”

9 Responses to “Never too old”

  1. 1 paul1510

    short, but not too sweet. 😉
    At least for Mandy and Tammy. 😦
    Those three words could well form the central tenet of the philosophy of this thing we do. 😀

  2. 2 Paul Little

    Nice if police officer could have wittnessed the forthcoming spanking

  3. 3 fatherjim

    Very cute story. As I personally know a 21 year-old young lady that got spanked by her father with the sole of her own shoe while she lay prone and quite “undraped”, and an eighteen -year-old who’s father took a belt to her undraped behind for smoking in the house, and a married 26 year-old that got held upside down and spanked by her father at a family gathering, there is some credence to the claim. I also knew a younger couple that the in-laws thought nothing of sending the young wife, probably 28 years-old at the time, to the corner for time-outs, at least, that’s all she admitted to me! It was clear she “respected” her in-laws authority over her, even though married and 28!

    Thanks for sharing!


    • 4 DJ

      You should tell us more Jim

      was this close to home? 😉

      I was at a family gathering a few years back (not mine) and a 32 year old was told “you are not too old young lady” as is often said in banter – but the woman in question, having had a few drinks, blurted out “you’re kidding right” she was really blushing – her father said something like “well its been 9 or 10 years now, it must be time” but I didn’t catch it all. But its sounds as if at least one 22 or 23-year-old was on the receiving end at one time or other.

      Thanks one and all 😉


  4. 5 George

    Wise parents never believe such a silly excuse like “too old for DD”.
    “NEVER too old” is the right answer for many many atitudes.

  5. 6 Joanne


    • 7 DJ

      Hi Joanne,

      first ofa ll thanks for commenting here. 🙂

      but second – you don’t need to shout.

      Out of interest – what decade was this and what region of the world?

  6. 8 PDBB

    I was left in the care of the single mother, a close friend of the family, when my parents went on a combined business/pleasure trip for three to four weeks in the summer one year. She had a son, a year younger and an older daughter Carol, 18 or 19, who I had a crush on. I thought she was the *perfect* woman, pretty and had a quick wit (bordering on sassy). Their mother was an older copy of her daughter and also intrigued me because of her looks and the fact that she frightened me for years due to her dominating nature. I was warned that Mrs. S… had my families permission to *keep me in line*, which was code that she could punish me. It was enough of a warning that kept me very obedient.
    Then one weekend Mark and I got into some minor trouble together, a childish prank at the local park and we were punished by not being let out for a day and had to be in bed early. But Mrs. S had a place to go with friends and told an unhappy Carol to stay home and watch us, seeing to it we were in bed by eight.
    Shortly after the mother left, Carol told us to get dressed(as we were already in our pajamas) that if we stayed out of the way, we could come with her to a party as her mother won’t be back until close to one o’clock. She had girl friends pick us up and we went to an *open house* party. There was beer and whiskey and lots of food and no adults in sight. Mark and I ate and drank (a little) and we both were having a good time. They allowed us to act as DJs and select the tunes. Things were going fine until neighbors called the police and people scattered like a classic *raid* when they came. There were others that the police grabbed and *rounded up* and we were among those.
    We were taken to police station and things were sorted out. Parents were called. it was about one o’clock that Mrs. S was finally reached and was told that the they would drop us off at home.
    The art is probably as good of a representation of our greeting at the door, save for the fact that Mrs. S had a belt in her hand.
    She sent us up stairs to get ready for bed and grabbed Carol by the hair and dragged her into the living room. Mark ran up stairs and I *hid* at the stairway to see what was going to happen.
    Mrs S was almost six feet tall and a bit taller than her daughter. Both women were dressed *to go out*in dresses high heels and stockings. Mrs. S dragged her crying and begging daughter ( who continued to protest?) insisting that she was too old to spank but had her argument as well as her begging – ignored. Mrs S put her foot on a chair and pulled Carol off her feet over her raised knee. Carols dress was pulled over her head and she was tipped forward. The spanking/strapping went on and on as red welts mounted on the white thighs not covered by the thin nylon. Carols panties had ridden up an exposed more of her bottom as there was no sign of the beating stopping. I was getting a *treat* of a *leg show* from both pretty woman. I carefully ran up the stairs when Carol was put down and lectured. She was crying so bitterly and ordered to stop and pay attention. In our bed room Mark, who was crying out of fright and I heard the sounds of more screaming and the distinct sound of a bare bottom hand spanking.
    Sunday morning three of us were awakened early and told not to bother getting dressed. Carol, Mark and I had breakfast (Carol walked very stiffly and sat down very gingerly) and after, we cleaned up and were marched into the living room and dining room with our faces in the corner with a warning that if she heard a sound out of us or left the corner without her permission, we would be the sorriest children in the world! Carol began to cry. Bed time, she said, was eight o’clock for all of us until further notice. We were all sent to bed early for the remainder of the week.
    I accidentally walked into the bathroom on Carol one morning during that time. She was getting ready for work. She was just in panties and a bra and had black and blue discoloration down to her knees!

    [Edited for youth references and naming people (outing)]

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