Recently, my wife, Christina, and I were talking about things we did in high school. We knew one another back then because we were from a small town, but we weren’t really friends. She is a year younger than me.
I mentioned that I used to see her sometimes at the Johnson girl’s house. I told her I thought they were kind of trouble-makers. Christina was always more of the type that followed the rules, and I always thought it was odd she hung around with Sheila and Cathy Johnson. Sheila was a year younger than me, and Cathy was two years younger.
My wife commented that she was always on good behavior when she stayed with the Johnson girls because, she didn’t want any part of the strap that hung on the wall in their home. I was kind of dumbfounded by her saying this. Her comment just came out of nowhere in the conversation.
I asked what exactly kind of strap it was. I didn’t think I heard her correctly. She said it was a long leather strap, much wider and thicker than a belt. “Maybe a razor strap with no handle, or something,” she said. It hung ominously on the kitchen wall.
I told her it was probably some kind of strange wall decoration.
She said, “No, pretty sure Cathy and Sheila’s stepdad used it to whip their asses.”
I said, “Oh, that can’t be true. Surely it was a decoration or something.”
My wife said, “Nope. I asked Sheila once what it was and she kind of avoided the question and changed the subject. That confirmed what I suspected. Then, once I spent the night there when I was maybe seventeen and I actually saw what it was used for.”
By this point, I was real interested in my wife’s story, but I didn’t want to let on like I was overly interested. I asked, “What do you mean you saw what it was used for?”
She said that her, Cathy and Sheila always stayed up all night long whenever she spent the night. They would gossip and listen to music. She was always friends with Sheila. Cathy always just hung around and tried to fit in. Late into the night, about 2.00 am, they were thirsty and there were no sodas in the refrigerator. There was only water. Cathy suggested sneaking out and running a couple of blocks to the gas station to get fountain drinks. My wife said she and Sheila were absolutely against the idea, but Cathy insisted.
Cathy snuck out the window and ran to the gas station while my wife and Sheila stayed in Sheila’s bedroom. As soon as Cathy got outside and started running to the gas station, Cathy and Sheila’s mom opened the bedroom door. Cathy had obviously made too much noise and their mother came to see what was going on.
She was really mad when she found out Cathy had snuck out. She yelled for Cathy’s stepdad and told him Cathy had gone to the gas station. My wife said she could see the fear in Sheila’s face when her stepdad came into the room. He went to the window, closed it and locked it. He said Cathy would have to come to the door to get back in. He left the room and went to the kitchen. My wife said Sheila looked scared to death, even though she hadn’t done anything.
Soon, Cathy came running to the window and saw it was closed. She motioned for us to open it up. Sheila shook her head and pointed to the open bedroom door. With that, Cathy’s smiles and laughter turned to fear. Then she realized the lights were on in the rest of the house and her parents were likely up.
Her stepdad heard the commotion, opened the back door of the house and yelled for Cathy to get inside. My wife said Sheila told her Cathy was definitely “going to get it.” They could hear Cathy’s stepdad yelling at her about prowling the streets in the middle of the night and sneaking out. Sheila suggested to my wife they go along and watch.
They peaked around the corner and saw Cathy crying her eyes out while her stepdad was reaching for the leather strap. He told her, “She knew the rules and she knew the consequences. Now get to it.”
Cathy turned and faced the kitchen table and pulled down her shorts and underwear.
My wife figured this had happened several times before because, when her stepdad said she knew the consequences she appeared to know that meant to face the table and drop her shorts without being told. At that point, Sheila went back into her bedroom and covered her ears. My wife said that part of her wanted to do the same, but part of her wanted to see what was going to happen, so she stayed peeking around the corner.
The stepdad pushed Cathy over the table and swung the wide strap hard. The strap was nearly as wide as Cathy’s small rear end. He whipped her at least ten times, really hard, and told her she better not sneak out again.
My wife hurried back to Sheila’s room before she was seen, and saw Cathy going back to her room across the hallway, carrying her shorts and panties. Sheila told my wife she didn’t understand why Cathy never learned. She would do the same stupid things that she knew was wrong, get an ass whipping for it, and then a few weeks later do the same thing again.