by Tarabeth



"Cunt! Cunt! Cunt! Cunt!"

"What? I reclaimed it, Cunt!"

I shook my head at her. Really what kind of person would cast a foul—mouthed brat to perform Reclaiming Cunt in the Vagina Monologues? Well not me for sure. But obviously the director in our local V—Day production thought differently, and I can see her point. My Katie was perfect for the role, and the dear woman didn't have to listen to the word 'CUNT' being shouted in her house for what seemed like every moment of every day for the last six weeks.

When the neighbors complained—and those would be the neighbors to the right, the neighbors to the left and the neighbors behind us-I told her Katie had to turn on the fans, and the radio if she was going to be practicing her monologue. She protested; I swatted. She relented, or so I'd thought until I got out of my car this evening to hear, "C, U, N. C, U, N. C, U, N! N! N! N! N! N! N! N! N! N! CUNT! CUNT! CUNT! CUNT!" The neighbors filed out through their front doors towards me.

"I'm so sorry," I told them. "I'll take care of it right now."

I walked through the front door, and Katie made a beeline to try and get the white noise up and running. She didn't make it in time; she was interrupted by me taking hold of her hand and pulling her towards the couch. I sat and undid her pants. I quickly pulled them down and guided her across my lap. "Is it nice to shout 'CUNT' from the top of your lungs, causing the neighbors to complain?" I asked.

"Nice?" she said. "No, but it is a hell of a lot of fun!"

With that, I slipped my hands into the waistband of her panties and slid them down. I landed a very firm swat just as she was starting to laugh at her own humor. Her laugh did not last long, because I rained down a series of very hard swats.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she cried. "Teej it's for charity. You know that this is a huge fundraiser for the local women's shelters."

Oh, my Brat. She was right, but that wasn't going to save her butt. "I don't think that raising money for charity usually involves tormenting the neighbors with shouts of the rudest term for the female genitalia that exists."

I heard a frustrated humph come from her mouth as she realized she was not going to talk her way out of this spanking.

I stopped the spanking momentarily to reach under the couch for the paddle. I have found that it is during this small break in a punishment that Katie often becomes the most remorseful. Her tears begin to flow a bit faster, her body starts to shake, and the beginnings of soft sobs can be heard. I used the paddle to turn her butt an angry red, dropping it to the floor when I had finished.

She turned in my lap, and clutched at me while she cried out her misery. "Cunt, that hurt," she softly said.

I rolled my eyes and kissed her softly. I wouldn't trade her for the world.

~ Tarabeth

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