"Are you sleepyheads going to lie around all day?" asked Mrs. Vanderhooten, poking her head inside.

I lay next to 13-year-old Marcella Vanderhooten on her bed.

Marcella's window opened over the backyard where Mr. Vanderhooten labored over a lawnmower. Birds chirped. Down the street, children squealed. A dog barked.

"We're swapping music, Mom," said Marcella, as if our iPods and my laptop weren't proof enough.

"When you were younger," said her mom, folding her arms, "you only stayed in bed all day when your father spanked."

"Really?" I giggled. "My folks haven't spanked since I turned 12."

"Goodness!" Mrs. Vanderhooten chuckled. "You're overdue."

"Yeah!" I teased back. "I've turned into an awful brat."

I suspect Mom and Dad would probably agree.

Stepping to the window, she called down. "Daniel, when you're done, would you mind coming up here and spanking Grace?"

"Why?" he called back.

"A long story. Just do it."

I laughed. "That's why I like you, Mrs. Vanderhooten. You kid around."

She winked. "Be good or I won't tell him I'm joking."

– – – – –

"Let's get this over with," said Mr. Vanderhooten 20 minutes later, opening Marcella's bedroom door.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" demanded Marcella as he stepped over to her bed.

"Doing what your mother asked," he replied, guiding me up and over his lap.

"Mom was kidding, Daddy! Ask her!"

"She went shopping," he replied, pulling down my panties. "Left a note on the counter."

"Daddy, STOP!"

"Marcella, don't get in trouble," I suggested. "We'll straighten this out when your mother gets home."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

– – – – –

"I'm so sorry, Grace," said Mrs. Vanderhooten, putting away groceries as Marcella and I told her what happened.

"It's not your fault," I replied. "It's nobody's fault actually. Especially Mr. Vanderhooten. He just did what he was supposed to do. Don't tell him, please."

They agreed.

"Well, after two years of no spankings," Mrs. Vanderhooten asked, "how does it feel now?"

"Pretty much the same," I replied evasively, rubbing my behind.

– – – – –

"Thanks, Mr. Vanderhooten," I said as I prepared to leave. "I haven't been spanked in a long time."

I expected Mom's car to pull up outside any minute now.

"You're welcome, Grace," he replied, looking up from his magazine. "But I never learned the reason why."

Marcella glanced knowingly at me and her mother.

"A long story," I laughed. "Let's just say I needed it."

– – – – –

"So," asked Mom as we drove home, "how was the sleep-over?"

"Mom," I said, "I know Dad didn't want to stop spankings when I turned 12. True, some teenage girls don't get spanked, but others do. Some parents stop and then start up spankings all over again."

Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Mom, how open-minded are you about starting up spankings again?"

"Funny you should ask," she said, eyes on the road. "Mr. Vanderhooten called earlier, saying his wife said to spank you, but Mrs. Vanderhooten had gone shopping. He asked my opinion."

"What did you say?"

Mom turned to me and smiled.