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Tracy looked around the basement that Penny had just offered as a safehouse. The gas masks, non-perishable foods, and Russian language books were a bit strange, but it would do. It was definitely better than jail.
"It's very well-insulated," Tracy said to Penny with a shrug and a weak smile.
"It won't be where you're going! The police are on their way!" Mrs. Pingleton declared, suddenly entering the basement.
"Mom, please don't send my best friend to the big house!" Penny pleaded.
"Penny, hush!" Mrs. Pingleton said firmly, grabbing her daughter by the arms. She moved Penny to stand in front of her and held her there.
"You haven't heard the last of me, Mrs. Pingleton. Things need to change, and I won't stop trying to change them. I don't care how long it takes," Tracy said with determination.
"Good! You'll be waiting twenty to life!" Mrs. Pingleton replied sharply before turning to Penny. "Penny, get the jump rope."
"Mom, not the jump rope!" she exclaimed.
"Don't you touch my canned tuna," Mrs. Pingleton said to Tracy, pointing a finger at her.
Then she slammed and locked the door, leaving Tracy to be taken by the police.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tracy Pingleton, you are absolutely, positively, permanently punished," Mrs. Pingleton said as she and Penny entered Penny's bedroom. "You will stay in this room indefinitely, and you will do nothing but listen to scripture. But first, you need to have some respect beaten into you."
She roughly shoved Penny in front of her and into the room, eliciting a yelp from the young girl as she did so. Then she turned and locked the door from the inside with a key, which she then tucked away in her pocket.
Penny's bedroom was small but comfortable. There was pastel, flowered wallpaper on the walls; a lamp with a frilly, pink shade and a 45 player on the beside table; a twin bed with a white, twisted, metal frame; a standard bedspread that she would soon be crying into; and a large window through which she wished she could escape.
She backed away from her mother, fear in her eyes, and voice already shaking.
"Mom, please. I was just trying to help my friend. Please don't do this," she begged.
"Penny, you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew she was trouble, and you knew it was absolutely forbidden to bring her into this house. Especially when she's running from the police!"
"She was falsely accused, Mom! She didn't do anything wrong! She's just trying to make things better!" Penny said emphatically.
"That girl is a troublemaker and a bad influence!" Mrs. Pingleton shot back. "You are not to see her again. Now lift your skirt and bend over the bed!"
Penny looked at her mother with defiance, but the quivering of her lip gave away just how scared she was.
"Now!" her mother barked, and Penny quickly complied.
She turned and dramatically threw herself over the bed in one fluid motion, reaching back to toss her long, red, plaid skirt up over herself before planting her chin on her folded arms with a huff. She wore simple, white panties that covered her entirely. Of course, Mrs. Pingleton would allow nothing less.
Her mother quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing Penny by the hips and forcing them up so that her legs were straight, knees locked, and she was forced to prop herself up on her elbows rather than lying flat on the bed as she had been. Her mother gave her one sharp slap on her exposed bottom once she was in the appropriate position.
"I told you to bend over the bed, not throw yourself over it like a brat!" she snapped.
Penny squealed at the smack but refused to say anything despite the tears already welling in her eyes.
Her mother walked to the closet and opened the door. Hanging on the inside of the door on a single hook was a plastic jump rope. It was long, black, and about the diameter of a pencil.
Normally, Mrs. Pingleton would just spank Penny with her hand when she needed discipline. The jump rope was reserved for particularly bad offenses. It was kept here so that it would be a constant reminder of what would happen if Penny stepped too far out of line. Of course, it hadn't worked well to deter her as of late. This lesson would have to be particularly memorable.
Mrs. Pingleton removed the jump rope from its hook and crossed the room back to Penny. She set the jump rope down next to her daughter. Then, without warning, she grabbed the waistband of Penny's panties and yanked them down to her knees.
"Mom!" Penny gasped in surprise, starting to stand up.
Mrs. Pingleton wasn't having it though. Anticipating Penny's response, she put a firm hand on her daughter's upper back and pushed her roughly back down.
"No, Penny! You've had this coming ever since you started watching that hedonistic Corny Collins show. Hand spankings over your panties don't seem to be enough to deter you, so keeping them up during a punishment is a privilege that you no longer have," she said harshly.
Penny let out a small sob, the gravity of the situation really sinking in. "Mom, please. I'm sorry," she tried.
"It's too late for that," Mrs. Pingleton replied coldly.
She picked up the jump rope, stepped back from Penny, and wrapped it a few times around her hand so that only an eight-inch loop hung down. Without another word, she let the jump rope fly, striking Penny's bare bottom with a CRACK!
Penny shrieked in pain as a line of fire ignited across her bottom. Tears immediately filled her eyes, and she trembled, awaiting the next stroke.
The next two came in quick succession.
CRACK! CRACK!
The first came from the right side, and the second from the left as her mother wielded the implement in a figure-eight pattern. Angry welts began to rise up immediately, stretching from the top of Penny's bottom to the tops of her thighs. The length of the jump rope ensured that it covered a considerable amount of skin with each lash.
Penny completely broke down after the third hit, sobbing openly. She kept her legs locked in position but her upper body slumped down as she buried her face into crossed arms on the bedspread. She barely had time to fully register the pain of the second and third strokes before her mother began lashing her rhythmically with less than a second between hits.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Penny screamed and sobbed harder. "Mom, please! I'm sorry! Please stop! I can't- AH! It's too much!" she cried.
Her mother paused for only a moment.
"Will you ever sneak around and break rules again?" Mrs. Pingleton demanded.
CRACK!
"AH! No, I p-promise!" Penny cried.
"And will you spend time with Tracy Turnblad?"
CRACK!
"Aaaaah," Penny moaned in agony, "No, I won't. I won't, I won't…" she repeated weakly.
"Good."
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Penny screamed out with each of the final three lashes before burying her face in her arms again, her body shaking and heaving with sobs. Raised welts criss-crossed all across her bottom and upper thighs. Her entire backside was angry red, and there was already a small amount of bruising beginning to form.
Her mother let her stay like that for just a moment before setting the jump rope down on the bed next to Penny. Mrs. Pingleton reached down and roughly yanked Penny's panties back up over her lower half, eliciting a muffled whimper from her daughter, before flipping her skirt back down into place.
"Get up," she said roughly.
Penny didn't move, continuing to cry quietly into her arms.
"I said 'get up'!" Mrs. Pingleton commanded, giving a sharp swat to Penny's still upturned backside.
Penny yelped and quickly stood up. She turned and faced her mother, looking at her pitifully with tears still running down her face. She was only up for a moment before her mother grabbed her roughly by her upper arms and forced her down to sit on the bed. Penny cried out in pain, her sobbing beginning anew as she struggled to stay in place.
"Good girl," her mother said flatly.
Mrs. Pingleton picked up the jump rope and began to wrap it around Penny's upper body, securely knotting it in place. Then she took the other end and expertly tied it to the bedframe.
"You will stay there until I say otherwise," she said.
Penny sniffled in response, looking pathetically at her mother.
"I will be checking on you regularly. If I find that you have moved a single muscle, we will repeat this lesson. Understood?" Mrs. Pingleton said firmly.
"Yes, ma'am," Penny replied in barely more than a whisper.
Mrs. Pingleton gave a curt nod, satisfied with Penny's answer. She turned on read-aloud scripture on the 45 player by Penny's bed. Then she left her there, crying, helplessly tied, and locked the door behind her.