© December 2022 by Blondie.
This is a work of fiction and is fantasy only. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For ages 18 and older only.
Chapter 1: The Setup
Chapter 2: The Stripping
Chapter 3: The Substitute
Chapter 4: The Shaming
Chapter 5: The Sadists
Chapter 6: The Schoolgirl
Chapter 7: The Spandex
Chapter 8: The Schoolyard
Chapter 9: The Sheet
Chapter 10: The Showdown
Chapter 11: The Swimsuit
Chapter 1: The Setup
Hi, my name is Andrea. I just ran across this site last week, which is fortuitous, because there is something that occurred years ago—a memory that I'll always cherish—that I think will be ideal material for this platform.
I'm sure that it is a memory that my brother does not cherish and is one that he would love to forget. But that will never happen, for at least a couple of reasons. One, the mental and emotional trauma that he incurred was too severe for any mortal to remove from their consciousness. Second, the event was a turning point in our relationship, in that I went from being the longtime victim of his obnoxious behavior to suddenly gaining the upper hand, a situation that I would take full advantage of for years to come.
* * * * *
My younger brother's name is Andy. I don't know what possessed my parents to name him Andrew after naming me Andrea. Whatever. All that matters for this story is that Andy was quite the brat when we were growing up. And much to my annoyance, it seemed that his brattiness was all too often directed at me.
Though his annoying behavior was often at my expense, it was never anything major. Although the time he walked in my room without knocking when he was twelve and I was thirteen was more than annoying. I was standing there in only my bra and panties. I screamed at him, and he stood there just a bit longer than he should have, leering at me before he turned away and left with a shit-eating grin on his face. When I told our parents about it, he only received a trivial admonition.
"It's polite to knock on someone's door, Andy," was all our mother said.
"Yes, Mom, sorry, I just forgot," replied Andy as he looked at me with a smirk.
And that was the thing. He almost always got away with his mischief and misconduct with a slap on the wrist (or nothing at all!), and it bothered me to no end. I wanted to see him punished for the way he treated me, but rarely did that come to pass.
Only one time did I see him punished to a point that I found mildly satisfying. He was going back and forth about something with our mom. He was being his usual bratty self and was giving her some attitude. She reprimanded him for his 'tude and he called her a bitch. I don't know what got into him, because he always seemed to know just how far he could push her without getting in trouble, but he crossed the line that time. I'm thinking retrospectively here, but he was only eleven, was naïve, and probably didn't understand the significance of what he had said. That lack of understanding would be remedied forthwith.
"What did you say?!" said our surprised mother and she grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him across the living room.
"Sorry! I didn't mean it!" tried Andy, but it was too late. She pulled out a chair from the adjacent dining room and forced him over her lap. "No! Please!" he shouted, and I was loving it. "Not in front of Andrea!" he pleaded, but she paid him no mind. She swatted him as hard as she could about a dozen times. She was small of stature and not very strong, so I don't think he felt much through his denim pants. But she left an impression in a better way. When she let him up and sent him to his room, he had tears of shame trickling down his cheeks, and, equally satisfying for me, his face was beet red with embarrassment. He had to walk past me and my grinning face, and when we made eye contact it was a delicious moment for me.
I remember thinking—and still do—that it would have been considerably more delicious had she pulled his pants down and spanked his bare bottom in front of me. But there was no such luck.
So, for the first thirteen years of our sibling relationship, I had to cope with my brother's bratty behavior toward me, and with the frustration of him never having to face the consequences.
But, thanks to Mia, a devious and cunning friend of mine, that was about to change—in spectacular fashion.
* * * * *
Mia was over at my house one Wednesday evening in late May. We were in my room doing our math homework together when Andy pulled one of his typical antics. Only this time he was unaware—as was I at the time—of my friend's shrewdness, and especially her moxie.
Andy barged into my room—without knocking, of course. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked as he surveyed the quiet scene.
"We're doing homework," I responded without looking up. "Please leave us alone. And you're supposed to knock."
"Oh, really?" said Andy. He then tipped my math book over that I had propped up in front of me. "There, I knocked over your book. Are you happy now?"
"Get out, you little brat!" I shouted.
He turned around and walked out giggling as I got up and closed the door behind him. As I came back to my desk I looked at Mia, who had a disgruntled look on her face.
"What a little shit!" she said.
"I know. You wouldn't believe some of the crap I have to put up with." I responded.
"What about your parents? They let him treat you like that?" asked Mia.
"He's a sneaky little devil. He's very careful not to annoy me in front of our parents. He always gets away with it."
"What else has he done?" asked Mia.
"Well, just last week he took my phone and hid it. When I asked him about it he said he could probably find it if I gave him five dollars."
"Whaaat?"
"I know. So I decided to go tell my dad. Andy heard me telling him, so he snuck into the kitchen and put my phone on the counter. When my dad called him into the living room and questioned him about holding my phone for ransom he said he was just joking and that he thought he saw it on the kitchen counter. My dad went into the kitchen, brought back the phone and said, 'Here you go, honey.' Andy just smirked at me and went to his room."
"What an asshole," said Mia. "And he just barges into your room without knocking? Does he always do that?"
"Oh, yeah. One day last year he came in and he saw me in my underwear. I could have been naked! And instead of apologizing and leaving right away he hung out for a couple seconds and took a nice mental picture for himself."
"Okay, that does it," said an exasperated Mia. "We need to do something."
I just looked at her and shrugged my shoulders. "Good luck with that," I said. "I've been wanting to get back at him for years."
"Well, you leave it to me, Andrea. We're going to teach that little shit a lesson. Preferably one he'll never forget."
My eyes widened. "Really? Like.....how? What do you have in mind?" I asked hopefully.
"Give me a moment. I'll think of something. Maybe we can do something at school."
For some background, Mia, Andy and I were all in the same 8th grade class, even though I'm a year older. Long story, but we were living overseas while I was supposed to be in the first grade. I was being home-schooled by my mom. After a couple of months my dad got transferred back to where we are now. My mom was offered a job she couldn't turn down, and it was too late to enroll in the school we wanted, so I was held back.
We attended a parochial school (St. Veronica's). We usually had a nun for our teacher, but Sister Mary Joseph had to have a medical procedure done and was unavailable for the remainder of the school year. A layperson, Miss Hanover, took over for the rest of the year. Miss Hanover also happened to be the principal of the school.
Also, Andy's seat was right behind me in the middle of the room, and Mia was situated directly to Andy's left. You'll see as this unfolds why that is relevant.
Anyway, Mia was deep in thought for a bit, and I kept quiet to let her hatch her plan. For a reason unbeknownst to me at the time, her eyes eventually focused on a back scratcher that was lying at the end of my desk. It was one of those wooden thingies, with a long handle and a curve at the end in the shape of a person's fingers. I think you know what I'm describing.
"Could you hand me that back scratcher, please?" asked Mia. Perplexed, I handed it over to Mia. She looked it over, then reached her arm out while holding it, then gradually broke out into a sly grin. "I have an idea," she said. You could almost see wheels turning in her head as she worked out her scheme.
"Tell me!" I said. I had instinctively moved to the edge of my seat in my excitement.
"Well," she said. "Andy sits behind you, right?" It was a rhetorical question.
"Go on," I said eagerly.
"What if he was to take this back scratcher—in the middle of a lesson—to take this back scratcher, reach forward with it, catch it on the hem of your skirt and pull it up?"
Now even more perplexed, I drew my head back with a quizzical look on my face. "But....why....how are you going to....I don't think he would ever do that."
Mia looked at me and smiled wickedly. "But Miss Hanover doesn't know that," she said.
I guess I was a little slow on the take. "But how....how do we get him to.."
"So, I'll bring the back scratcher to school with me," she interrupted. "At some point when Miss Hanover isn't looking, you can scream out. You'll have to pull your skirt up to make it look good. By then I'll be out of my chair acting like I'm fighting Andy off and taking the back scratcher away from him. He won't know what the hell's going on. It's pretty funny, when you think about it and put yourself in his shoes.
"Meanwhile, Miss Hanover will be wondering what the commotion is all about. One or both of us will tell her what that rascal Andy did. She'll see your skirt hiked up, and that's all the proof she'll need. He'll be in deep shit, and he won't know what hit him. Of course he'll deny it, but he's outnumbered, and the evidence is there. Who do you think she's going to believe?"
When Mia was done, I was momentarily speechless. I was just looking at her, wide-eyed and agape. I then broke into a grin. "Oh my God, you're terrible!" I finally said.
"I know, right?" said Mia with a grin of her own.
"How do you come up with this shit?" I asked. "I love it!" I paused, and said, "And you know what? I think it might just work!"
"I absolutely think it will work," replied Mia.
"But...." I was thinking on the fly. "I don't want to get him in too much trouble. And I wouldn't want our parents to get involved."
"Well, that's a risk, but a calculated risk. Think about it, though. Even if that did happen—and I don't think it will—after all he's done to you over the years, he would deserve whatever punishment your parents give him. But like I say, I'm reasonably sure that won't happen. Miss Hanover has a history of doling out punishments without getting the parents involved. She prefers to handle things in-house. And as you may have heard, sometimes the punishments can be pretty embarrassing."
"Really?" I said. My hopes were rising by the minute. "I didn't know that."
"Oh, yes. Did you see that eighth-grade boy walking around in the girls uniform one day last year? That was her doing."
"Wow, she made a boy do that? He must have been mortified!"
"One hundred percent. I only saw him briefly in the hallway—he was probably hiding out somewhere whenever he could. He was kind of a big kid, and the uniform was pretty small on him. His face was flaming red from the humiliation. I broke out into giggles when I saw him, and I wasn't the only one."
"I'm so sorry I missed that!" I laughed.
"And I heard of one instance when a kid got sent to her office and she put him over her knee and spanked him like a little boy. There were a couple of girls listening at the door and they said he was crying like a baby."
"I wonder if she...?"
"If she pulled his pants down?" interrupted Mia, obviously aware of what I was thinking. "Unclear. One of the girls said it sounded like slaps on a bare ass, but the other girl wasn't so sure. Either way, it left an impression, 'cuz I hear the guy was still blubbering when he came out, and they said his face was flaming red."
"Oh, Mia! Can you imagine if we somehow pull this off and she does that to Andy?"
"Oh, we're going to pull it off alright," said Mia. "There's no telling what she'll do, but I guarantee it's not going to go well for Andy."
"So we're really going to do this?" I asked, though I was pretty sure of the answer.
"He deserves whatever happens to him."
"Okay, then. I guess we're really doing this," I said, still a bit incredulous about what we were planning. "When should we do the dirty deed?"
"You have a problem with tomorrow?" asked Mia.
"Oh, my God. Tomorrow it is!" I replied.
I was so excited that I jumped up and gave Mia a hug. She hugged me back, still holding the back scratcher. When we separated, I looked down at the implement, smiled, and shook my head. "It all starts with a back scratcher," I said.
"No, it all started years ago when your asshole little brother started treating you like shit. Now it's payback time."
I nodded in appreciation, thanking my lucky stars that I had Mia on my side.
* * * * *
Before she left, we went over the plan one more time.
"Remember," counseled Mia. "We do it when she's not looking. I'll signal you when it's time. You need to let out a good shriek. Act like you're shocked and shaken up. I'll take care of the rest. Oh, and you'll have to hike your skirt up as high as you're comfortable with to make it look genuine."
"Oh, I'll hike it up alright. In fact, I'll take it completely off it that's what it takes."
"I don't think that will be necessary," laughed Mia. "But if your panties happen to be showing, all the better."
We both laughed and gave each other another hug before Mia departed, back scratcher in hand. Interestingly, Andy was lurking in the kitchen at the time and must have seen what Mia had been holding.
"What's with the back scratcher?" he asked after she had left.
Oh, if you only knew, dear boy!
"She has an itch," I responded.
An itch to teach you a lesson you'll never forget!
I couldn't wait for the next day, and I can't wait to tell you all about it!
