A Not So Thankful Marcia

Marcia Brady was very, very upset as the family prepared to have their Thanksgiving dinner, with many relatives present. Although she was very happy to have all her grandparents, and many aunts, uncles and cousins, this had caused a problem. Marcia had been asked to sit with the younger children, at the kids' tables. This was despite the fact that she was now a sixteen year old, and the second oldest nonadult present at the gathering.
Greg, her older brother, was at one of the other kids' tables. Well, that might be all right for Greg, she thought, but Marcia, being a young lady, wasn't going to stand (or sit) for it. She protested loudly.

"But, mom, it's just NOT fair. I mean, why should I have to sit with all these little brats, and have to help cut their turkey and ham into small pieces, and make sure the food goes into their mouth instead of the floor, and HAVE to listen to all the kiddy talk. I want to speak with my aunts and uncles about the world political situation, or the latest fashions, or find
out all the juicy family gossip. I'm sixteen now, and I SHOULD get to sit where I want." Marcia made sure that the entire family heard her as she complained to Carol, her mother.

Carol replied, with a noticeable edge in her voice, "Marcia honey, you know we only have so much room at the big tables in the dining room. We do have a very large family, and there are lots of adults present. Now, you've never minded before eating with your cousins; why should today be any different. After all, you are older, and more mature, so you should be expected to keep the young ones supervised. You know, help out all of us
adults." Carol gave Marcia "the LOOK," hoping this would persuade her.

But it didn't! Marcia simply picked up on Carol's argument, using it to her advantage. "Yes, MOTHER," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I am older and more mature now. Much more so than I've been in the past. And I shouldn't be expected to do the job of all you adults, in keeping these juveniles in line, I don't think. After all, there are more than enough of you to spread around. Why should I be punished at lunch, just so all of you
can enjoy yourselves."

Carol, taken aback at first by this outburst, regained her composure, as the entire room fell silent, listening to this little drama play out. She stood up from her chair, folded her arms, and icily said, "Marcia, would you like to continue this little discussion in MY bedroom?" All of Marcia's brothers and sisters knew what this meant, and silently prayed Marcia would come to her senses; after all, a holiday was no time to have "parental discussions."
Carol then said, "Because if you don't get quite, sit down and behave yourself, that's exactly what we're going to do, young lady."

"Yes, Mother, I would like to continue this conversation. I believe you are treating me like a little girl, and not a young lady. I have to take a stand somewhere," Marcia announced. This was greeted with silent amusement and incredulous disbelief around the tables. Jan's jaw almost fell off, her mouth dropped open so wide. Greg simply put his face in his hands, and wondered what his sister had eaten already, because he wanted to make sure NOT to have any of that. Mike's mother said, "I think that would be a LOVELY idea, Carol. If Marcia thinks she's being treated like a little girl, perhaps you could clarify things for her. Uncle Emmitt stifled a laugh. Alice stopped midway from the kitchen, and almost dropped the salad she was bringing into the dining area. Still, Marcia was undaunted, as she looked at her mother. "I really feel that you don't pay me enough attention, Mother. I should get more respect and consideration around here."

Carol, walking towards Marcia, said "Well come along dear. I will certainly give you a lot of attention in a few minutes, I promise." As she walked by, Carol grabbed Marcia's hand, and led her towards the bedroom. She said over her shoulder, "Would you all please excuse us, momentarily. It seems we need to have an immediate, mother-daughter discussion. Please start eating without us; we'll be finished soon."

As they entered Carol and Mike's bedroom, Carol said to Marcia "What in the world has gotten into you, Marcia? I cannot believe you talked that way out there. That was very rude, and disrespectful, young lady, and you're going to get punished severely for it. I'm going to roast your bottom, just like Alice roasted the turkey, little girl! And you had better be glad your father had to stay outside with our guests, or your bottom would be in for
much worse than it's going to receive now."

Marcia only now began to realize her mistakes from before. "Oh Mother, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me out there. I shouldn't have ever said what I did. Please, forgive me, Mom. I promise I'll go back outside and sit at the children's table without griping. I really am sorry; honest."

"Oh, you're going to go back out to the children's table, all rightie, missie. Whether you're sitting there or not, I won't guarantee, because you just might not want to be sitting. And if you are, it's going to be very uncomfortable, Marcia; and not just because you have to listen to doll talk, or cut up pieces of turkey, either! I am very disappointed in you, young
lady. You said I treated you like a little girl. Well, I'm about to treat you like a little girl, in ways I'm certain you wish I wouldn't. NOW, Get my Hairbrush from the Dresser, Marcia. You're about to have your bare bottom spanked!"

"B..But, M..Mom, I....I'm too ol..", Marcia started saying, but then stopped as she noticed the fierce scowl on Carol's face. She sadly walked over to the dresser to retreive her mother's solid, wooden backed hairbrush, which was used much more often for other task than brushing hair. "I really am sorry, Mom," Marcia said, hoping one more apology might delay, or even cancel, the impending, painful encounter between her bottom and Carol's
brush.

Carol had already sat down on the bed, and simply pointed towards her lap, while reaching out to take the brush from Marcia. "I'm sure you are, honey. But not nearly as sorry as you're going to be in about fifteen minutes, when you're outside with all your relatives, and a blazing, tender bottom. Now, across my lap, LITTLE GIRL!"

Marcia dreaded this moment, but knew better than to protest any longer. She resignedly laid herself across Carol's lap, and stretched out across the bed. Already, tears were coming from her pretty eyes. Her long blondish hair fell down around her shoulders as she "assumed the position", with her buxom bottom sticking up into the air. Carol immediately began to bare her bottom, flipping up the short miniskirt in the back, exposing her panties.
She then slid Marcia's panties down in back to around her knees, having Marcia rise up off her lap for a moment, exposing two fleshy mounds which were already quivering with dread. Presently, they were pale, but that was about to change, dramatically, as Carol painted that feminine backside with her hairbrush, a bright, fire-engine red color.

Marcia shuddered as she felt the coolness on her naked bottom, and wished, against hope, that the noise from out in the dining area would drown out what was happening in the bedroom. She knew her mom's spankings were always red hot, and dreaded everyone hearing her being punished, and her crying as a result, almost more than the spanking itself. Sadly, she realized, that the kids at least would probably be quiet for the next little while, wanting to hear what was happening. And even if they weren't, Mom could really smack that brush against the bare bottom hard, and it really made an explosive noise.

Carol began lifting the brush up into the air, and slamming it down onto Marcia's unprotected bottom, with great force. She attacked first one cheek, then the other, alternating back and forth, and covering the entire portion of Marcia's rear end. Particular attention was given to the sensitive sit spots on either side, where Marcia's thighs met her buttocks; even Marcia's upper thighs were exposed to the reddening, warming effects of
the brush.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

This continued for a full five minutes, and Marcia received well over a hundred smacks with that hairbrush. She was in too much pain to bother counting, and Carol really wasn't that concerned with doing that. Marcia was sobbing, and bawling, by the time the spanking was over, and her bottom was indeed a ripe tomato reddish color, shaking around like the cranberry sauce slices on the dinner tables. The temperature back there would have indeed been a wonderful "bunwarmer" for the rolls, for the midafternoon snack that most of the men would be wanting. Carol's arm was tired, and getting sore already, so one can only imagine what Marcia's bottom felt like.

It was indeed blistered, and blazing. Marcia was sure she was on fire, and needed a cold shower very, very badly. The humiliation she would experience when going back out to the dining area would be the ultimate degradation, she was certain. And she really didn't have much of an appetite any longer. This "discussion" had ruined that for her. But, as Carol helped Marcia to her feet, and pulled her panties back up for her (which increased her
physical agony considerably), came the news Marcia was dreading. "All right, honey, now that you have indeed been treated like a 'little girl', let's go back out there and enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner, shall we? And please turn off the waterworks with the tears; you'll make the food soggy, not to mention frightening all the 'children'. Now, keep a stiff upper lip, and let's go on outside."

Marcia, as she was slowly walking out, still sniffling, and rubbing her sore fanny as much as possible, before getting in front of the other family members, decided that this holiday might NOT be such a day to be thankful for, after all.