I gasped in shock when Noelle landed another spank on the opposite cheek. It stung more than any of the others, due to the fact that I didn’t expect her to hit me again. “Noelle, stop!” I exclaimed. “I said I’m Miley!”
That had been the whole point of ‘confessing’ that I was our bratty thirteen year old neighbor. So I wouldn’t have to suffer any more over Noelle’s lap. This was a nightmare for so many reasons. The pain itself was pretty bad, as I had literally never been spanked before and Noelle didn’t seem to be pulling her punches. Then there was the personal embarrassment, as this was the furthest anyone had ever gone after mistaking me for a younger girl. Worst of all, however, was the fact that my step-sister was watching and making zero effort to help. So far, she had only done the opposite.
“I heard you,” Noelle calmly said. WHACK. The intensity of the spank didn’t match her tone in the slightest. My renewed attempts to squirm off her lap and avoid more punishments that I didn’t deserve were met with a barrage of slaps all on the same cheek. “Hold still, Miley!”
For a moment, I tried even harder to escape. My right cheek was on fire and Noelle was still spanking it without any sign of letting up. “Stop! Oh my God, STOP.” I writhed over her legs, not thinking about the fact that my pleas might come across as whining and my movements were objectively immature. My protests fell on deaf ears as Miley’s babysitter continued believing she had the right girl, and the toned brunette was more than capable of holding me in place with just one arm.
Eventually, I gave in. It was so counterintuitive when my reflex was to get away. However, it was pretty clear that my way wasn’t getting me anywhere. So, against my instincts, I went completely limp on her lap.
“There.” WHAP. “Was that so hard, Miley?”
Squeaking from the harsh spank that punctuated the dozens of faster ones on the cheek she hadn’t left alone in quite some time, I meekly shook my head. I was scared that my voice would crack if I tried to speak, as I was still doing everything in my power not to cry. One or two tears had naturally escaped from the nonstop spanking, but I refused to let what was left of my dignity take another hit.
In fact, Paige had never seen me cry. Like, ever. Thanks to my size, I refused to show weakness around most people.
Noelle didn’t seem to have a problem breaking me of that. “Now, I need to even you out,” she said, “I’m going to do the same to the other side, okay? Then we can be done.”
Wait, what? I immediately tensed up at the implication. “Noelle-” I began, my voice about as weak as I expected.
She barely let me get that far. “Hold still. Behave.” Cutting me off, she gave a quick spank to the not so sore cheek. “Can you manage that, Miley?”
I wanted so badly to argue. To find a way off the girl’s lap and back to my room. To avoid yet another round of spankings to my mostly exposed ass. Instead, I nodded. As long as she thought I was Miley, there would be no mature conversations to be found. Especially not with my sister right there to dismiss my truths. As painful as it was, and as painful as it was going to be, I knew that allowing myself to be spanked was the only way to move on. All I needed was my driver’s license, and the only way to get that was to be free of Noelle’s lap.
“Good.” Noelle adjusted my body from my former attempt to escape. “For your information, Miley, it’s your own fault that I’m here. I only get hired when parents are desperate.” SMACK. “Because most babysitters would get in trouble for punishing difficult little girls like this.” WHAP. “Even if they do deserve it.”
Blushing as a tiny yelp escaped my lips, I focused most of my attention on staying still when every spank made me want to do the opposite. There was more to come, too. She hadn’t gotten to the nonstop barrage my other cheek had already taken.
Resting her hand on my less sore side, she explained things a little more for me. For Paige, too, as Noelle clearly wasn’t aware that Miley didn’t really have a sister. Apparently, Noelle specialized in doing whatever it took to teach girls how to behave when parents didn’t know where else to turn. She made the point that it didn’t matter that she was telling me exactly why she was here; that’s how confident she was in her abilities. In terms of corporal punishment, there were all kinds of waivers and permissions that ‘my parents’ had signed. Noelle was within her rights to discipline me however she wanted, save for the methods that had been marked as unacceptable by Miley’s parents.
“Not that I’ll share that list with you, of course.” Noelle said, “But spanking? Very much allowed. And, if you behave from here on out, you won’t have to find out what else your parents signed off on.”
The whole situation had already been wildly unfair and humiliating. But this newest revelation? FUCK. I was being punished by Miley’s ‘last resort’ babysitter, when I wasn’t actually the girl who had scared off the rest of them. And for the time being, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Admitting that I was ‘Miley’ didn’t seem to be helping my case, either. Noelle seemed determined to put me in my place. Trying to backpedal now would only take away whatever grace I had earned with my submission.
“Now, what was your name again? Alyssa?”
Yes. Alyssa, the eighteen year old ballerina.
“N-no,” I muttered, “It’s Miley . . .” The thirteen year old brat.
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Stories of Age/Time Transformation