Cynthia’s Mexican Adventure


Cynthia takes a trip without her brother’s permission.  Upon arrival to the foreign land, she plans to enjoy a game of Dance Fever, but then gets accused of breaking it.  The police are unhappy and agree that instead of going to jail, she should be spanked and turned over to her brother (who spanks her more).  This is a weird story… that’s your forewarning.


Once upon a time there was a girl named Cynthia. She lived in the land of Hippopotamatude, a country close to Mexico. She lived with her mother and father, the king and queen of their country. Because her parents were always so busy, Cynthia was often left in the care of her older brother, Brandon.

Cynthia was somewhere between a woman and a child at the age of 13. She often strayed off alone, but Brandon made sure she didn’t go too far.

One day, Cynthia met a donkey who told her about the exotic and neat things that were in Mexico. He told her about their great technology including a game that must have been sent from the gods called Dance Fever. Cynthia was so intrigued by what the donkey told her that she knew she must go right away.

However, one thing stood in the way: Brandon.

“No, you can’t go to Mexico,” said he.

“But why? It’s much more advanced and would be a great learning experience!”

“I said no,” he huffed and walked off.

Cynthia folded her arms and pouted for two and a half minutes, then realized that she didn’t need her brother’s permission to go. The donkey could take her!

So she skipped out of the castle and found the donkey. “Will you take me to Mexico?” she asked, putting on her most adorable face and batting her eyelashes.

The donkey was taken aback by her forwardness, but could not decline her request. “Of course, my lady,” he said in a thick Mexican accent.

The ecstatic girl hopped on his back. “Thank you sooooo much, Mr…. um, Mr…”

“Burro. Señor Burro is my name.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you Mr. Señor Burro.”

So Señor Burro hiked through the tall mountains, weaved through the roads, and finally, three hours later, arrived at the gates of Mexico.

“Well, here we are,” said Señor Burro.

The little girl jumped off the donkey clapping her hands in excitement. “Very awesome!” she exclaimed, hugging Señor Burro before departing.

“Be careful,” he warned her, “and don’t drink the water!”

Cynthia waved goodbye and walked through the gates. She immediately noticed the contrast between this land and hers. First of all, they all spoke Spanish! How would she ever understand them? Luckily, she knew some from her older brother, who’d traveled to Mexico plenty of times. There were also a lot of people walking around, and even more donkeys. Police were scattered throughout the streets, often whistling, for what reason, Cynthia did not know.

She wiped the sweat from her brow and took a few steps forward. What should she do now? She sighed and headed in the direction of all the people. Everyone gave her a weird look, but she didn’t notice. She was too busy gazing at the unfamiliar land.

Cynthia walked and walked. She ambled down the tiny alleyways and hiked up the mountains. Finally, she saw what she had been waiting for: Dance Fever. She pushed the glass door open and hopped inside. There was a big line to the game, but she didn’t mind. She stood at the end and waited patiently, watching everyone else play.

Finally, it came to be her turn. She inserted some change in the machine, but it wouldn’t take it. Glaring, she kept inserting different coins. It still would not take her money. Cynthia became very frustrated, yelling obscenities at the machine and eventually kicking it and very hard at that. Now, while the Mexicans were advanced people, the machine was still unlike those that we have today. It could not withstand such abuse and as Cynthia kicked, Dance Fever collapsed and was no longer usable. A gasp fell across the room. The young girl looked back to see ghastly expressions and mouths hanging open.

“¡Ella rompolo!” one of them yelled, then all of a sudden there was a big uproar. People were screaming and cussing, then began throwing stuff at her until finally a policeman came in.

“¿Qué pasa aquí?” he asked.

Everyone began shouting again until he finally put pieces of the store together, figuring out what had happened. He shook his head at the girl then seized her, much to the approval of everyone.

When outside, he stopped Cynthia. “¿De dónde eres, chichita?” he asked.

She bit her lower lip, thinking that he was asking her where she was from, but unsure. Taking a chance, she answered, “Hippopotamatude.”

He nodded then kept leading her away from the now-destroyed game. “¿Y sabes qué es difícil para una niña de Hippopatmatude a sacar de cárcel?”

She gave him a blank look, not understanding a word. Finally, after trying to figure it out and not succeeding, she said, “no entiendo.”

The officer nodded, taking her to the Mexican jail. When they arrived, the policemen talked amongst themselves in fast Spanish. Cynthia just looked at the ground nervously, wondering what was going to happen to her.

“¡Chichita!” one yelled, catching her attention, then said something to which she responded with a confused. “¿No hablas español?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Entiendes ‘cárcel’?”

She racked her brain to figure out what it meant, then realized it was the Spanish word for “jail!” She gulped and nodded.

“No cárcel para ti, pero nosotros vamos a darte nalgadas, ¿entiendes?”

She understood the part about no jail, but that’s about it.

Instead of letting her answer, the office continued. “Después, me voy a llevarte a tu casa en Hippopotamatude.”

She nodded, still uncertain of what was going on. The first officer, from the arcade, sat down on a chair in the middle of the room. He looked up at her, motioning for her to come towards him and saying, “ven.”

She took a step forward. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, then finally over his lap. She wasn’t expecting that and let out a slight yelp. In turn, he swatted her backside a few times. She kicked and squirmed, begging for him to stop and not even realizing he couldn’t understand.

When she thought she’d had enough, she reached her hand back to block.

“¡Quita la mano!” the officer shouted.

The scared, crying little girl moved her hand as ordered, wishing the spanking would stop already. “Please!” she begged. “I’m sorry!” she assured him, then reached her hand back again.

He paused long enough to say, “quita la mano,” again, then grabbed her hands, restraining them so he could finish her punishment.

When he decided that he’d given Cynthia enough, he stood the poor girl up. A second officer then repeated the procedure, then a third, then the final. By the end, Cynthia was a sobbing wreck. Her eyes were red and puffy and her bottom throbbing. She rubbed it gently until an officer dragged her outside. He found his donkey, sat the girl on the back, then hopped on himself. Cynthia barely endured the three hour long donkey-ride on her sore backside. However, she was more worried about what Brandon would do when he found out.

The two arrived at the gates to Cynthia’s castle. The guards allowed them through and one summonsed Brandon to come outside.

Cynthia’s older brother was livid when he saw her with the Mexican police officer and donkey. The two men chatted in Spanish about the incident and punishment, then the officer explained how fortunate Cynthia was to not be in jail. Brandon listened carefully and nodded every so often. Then he lifted his siter from the back of the donkey, swatted her bottom three times and ordered her to apologize. She did as told, not wanting her angry brother to have to repeat himself. The officer accepted her apology then let the donkey lead him away.

Brandon grabbed his little sister’s upper arm with his left hand and spanked her as she stood there for about a minute, while lecturing. “How dare you defy me and go to Mexico after I told you no!” he yelled. “It is dangerous, especially for a young girl. And to top it off, you made trouble with the police! I am NOT happy with you.”

She wanted to point out that it was obvious he wasn’t happy, but was crying too much. Her bottom was still hurting from the previous spankings and Brandon definitely wasn’t helping!

He finally stopped. “Pick a switch for me then go to your room. I’ll take care of it shortly,” he ordered.

A trembling Cynthia wiped the tears out of her eyes and shuffled to the forest behind her castle. She was still crying when she found a switch her brother would approve of. Carefully, she cut the limb and weakly ambled back home, one hand trying to rub the sting out as the other held the next implement of her punishment.

Brandon was in her room a few minutes after she arrived. “Skirt up and panties down,” he told her, taking the switch.

Defeated and not up for fighting, Cynthia did as told. He then leaned his little sister over the bed. He spanked her with the switch, not saying a word. He spanked for what felt like hours but was really only about ten minutes. Cynthia was apologizing and crying, pleading for him to stop.

“Are you ever going to defy me?” he asked.

“Nooooo!” she promised.

He continued the spanking for a few more swats, then stopped, staring at her poor battered backside. He shook his head. “Don’t you EVER do something like this again,” he told her, then threw the switch down and left.

Cynthia cried into her hands for a while then changed into a nightgown and fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

And though Cynthia was in pain, they still lived happily ever after.

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