Old fashioned punishment

The tension in the farmhouse kitchen was thick enough to **** on. Shark leaned against the chipped countertop, arms crossed, her green eyes narrowed behind her glasses as Margot bustled about, slamming porcelain cups onto the table with deliberate ****.

"Still got that city stink on ya," Margot muttered, not even looking up as she poured boiling water into a cracked teapot.

Shark scoffed. "Yeah, well, at least I don't smell like mothballs and chicken shit."

The spoon Margot was holding clattered against the counter. Elaine, perched primly on a rickety wooden chair, barely blinked from behind her steaming cup. "Girls," she murmured, her voice smooth and drowsy, "must we?"

"Don't you girls me," Margot snapped, rounding on shark with a glare that could curdle milk. "This little brat—"

"Oh, fuck off," shark shot back, pushing off the counter. "You invited us, remember? Or did dementia finally kick in?"

Margot's face purpled. The veins in her neck stood out like ropes. "You disrespectful little—"

"Emma," Elaine sighed, rubbing her temple. "Darling, please."

"No!" shark threw her hands up. "Why the hell should I? She’s been on my ass since we got here!"

Margot’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Because this is my house, and you will mind your elders!"

Shark barked a laugh. "Elders? You’re just old, Auntie. Doesn’t make you wise."

Something in Margot snapped.

Her voice dropped into something low and dangerous, her countryside accent thickening. "You dare?"

Shark didn’t flinch. "Yeah, I dare. What’re you gonna do, huh? Spank me?"

The words hung in the air like a dare.

Margot moved faster than shark expected.

One second, shark was standing there, smug and defiant—the next, Margot had her by the arm, yanking her forward with surprising strength. Shark stumbled, her glasses slipping down her nose as Margot spun her around and shoved her face-first over the kitchen table.

Elaine gasped. "Margot—!"

"Stay out of this, Elaine," Margot snarled, hiking up shark’s shorts with one rough tug.

Shark’s brain short-circuited. "H-hey—!"

The first smack came down hard on the seat of her shorts, the sound sharp and humiliating in the quiet kitchen. Shark yelped, more from shock than pain, her face burning as Margot’s calloused palm cracked against her again.

"Still got that smart mouth?" Margot hissed between spanks, each one punctuating her words. "Still daring me?"

Shark kicked, her sneakers scuffing against the worn linoleum. "Fuck—ow! Let go—!"

Elaine stood abruptly, her chair scraping back. "Margot, enough!"

Margot didn’t even glance up. "She asked for it!"

Another smack. Shark ’s thighs stung, her face pressed against the sticky tabletop.

Her faces burning in shame and her teeth gritting in anger