KDPierre

 An Age Thing

The shower was winding down. Only a handful of friends and relatives remained. And after an afternoon of wine and gifts….. and complete absence of men, the conversation got pretty racy. One of the gifts given earlier had been a copy of 50 Shades of Grey. At the time of its unwrapping, the sight of it alone had caused a brief ripple of laughter and teasing for the bride-to-be, but now it was a topic of conversation. Eileen was more focused now than on any other bit of gossip dished about prior. Much of the conversation was speculative: who would do it? Who wouldn’t? Which role would you take on if you did? But no one seemed to have any actual experience nor deep desire to try it for real, until Eileen somehow admitted that she wished she could experience being spanked. That got some chuckles and teases until a relatively new face in the crowd, Kayla, the younger friend of the Maid of Honor merely replied, “Then why not just do it then?”

“It’s not so easy,” Eileen confessed. “You have to find someone willing to take on the other role. It’s not a solo activity.”

“Nothing fun ever is,” a tipsy cousin chortled as everyone laughed again at the naughty innuendo. But Kayla’s eyes focused in on Eileen like a hawk’s on a rabbit.

“I’ve done it,” Kayla admitted soberly, “it’s no big deal. It’s just a spanking….it’s not some major commitment like choosing an insurance policy. Besides, it’s fun.”

“Really? You’ve done it for real?” another lady asked in surprise. “Does it hurt?”

“Oh, I’m sure it does,” Kayla grinned.

The confused lady squinted. “You sound like you’re only guessing, but if you’ve done it….” she paused with a tilt of her head, “how could you not know?”

“Because it doesn’t hurt me,” Kayla laughed.

“Oh, I get it,” the tipsy cousin squawked. “You are the one who gives the spanking! Well that’s perfect. Then you could spank Eileen,” she blurted tactlessly.

Eileen blushed and Kayla noted the reaction. To save the moment, Kayla quickly turned the awkward suggestion into a joke. “Perhaps, but this is a shower, not a Birthday party, so no butt-smacks today. Eileen is safe.”

Again the ladies laughed and turned the conversation to another topic, but Eileen could not concentrate on any other subjects. Her thoughts were fixed on spanking, and Kayla, whose casual confidence extended well beyond her apparent age, which to Eileen’s estimate could not be much more than 21 or 22. As the party broke up Eileen watched Kayla intently and was rewarded for her patience when eventually she saw the girl alone in the foyer. She quickly approached her and thanked her for saving her from any further embarrassment.

Kayla responded in her matter-of-fact style, “It was nothing. Half of them won’t even remember the conversation considering all the wine they had.”

“Well, thanks anyway.” Eileen turned to leave wishing she had the courage not to. 

“All kidding aside, if you really want to scratch ‘spanking’ off your bucket list, give me a call. Like I said before…it’s no big deal, and I like doing it….boy or girl.” Kayla offered as she took out her cell phone. “What’s your number? I’ll send you a text and then you’ll have me in your messages.”

Despite her embarrassment, Eileen did as Kayla suggested, which told Kayla everything she needed to know. It would not be long. Eileen might agonize and stew for a few days but eventually she’d call. And a couple of weeks later that was exactly what she did. They agreed to meet at Kayla’s apartment on a Saturday afternoon when neither had plans. And as Eileen deliberated over every detail and every nuance, Kayla remained steady and casual throughout the conversation, a trait that gave Eileen courage to pursue her strange desire. 

As discussed, Eileen showed up exactly at 2:30 just as Kayla suggested. She had decided to wear a skirt and blouse thinking of the practicality of the choice. A lifted skirt would just be so much easier. So it came as a bit of a shock when Kayla eventually instructed her to remove all of her clothes, right there in the living room. Her mouth fell open, but surprisingly no protest issued forth. Instead, Eileen did as she was told and found herself facing this confident young spitfire without a stitch to conceal herself. On the opposing wall hung a large mirror in which she could see the back of Kayla’s lean, angular body facing her own pale, matronly one. The reflection was unforgiving. In her mind, Eileen had been able to rationalize this encounter so that her own years did not seem to matter. It’s a common phenomenon that as adults, people tend to retain the self-image they developed in college, and since Kayla seemed to regard this situation as appropriate, Eileen let herself be lulled into that same casual sense of appropriateness. But that damned mirror did not share in their view. It coldly reflected what appeared before it: a naked woman in her 40’s, whose body had begun to soften, slope, and spread, at the mercy of a clothed 21-year-old in her tight and youthful prime. Eileen blushed at the indignity of the brutally, day lit image.

“Follow me,” Kayla ordered politely and Eileen let herself be led to Kayla’s bedroom glad to remove herself from the mirror’s field of view. Her mind was spinning. Forgetting her age once again, she now just envisioned the act. She anticipated the pain, fearing it and desiring it in alternate intervals. However, as soon as she entered the room, the shock of the mess therein almost made her forget why she was there. There were clothes and packages everywhere. Kayla herself had to step through it all as if she was negotiating a minefield. Eileen said nothing and emulated Kayla’s navigation of the mess, watching the backs of Kayla’s sandaled heels as she saw her own bare feet intersperse themselves between a rubble of clothing.

Finally Kayla made it to her bed and sat, but not without first sweeping a pile of underwear and socks onto the floor. She then indicated that Eileen should place herself across her lap. More mindful now of the mess than the impending spanking, Eileen complied and found herself face-down and vulnerable while her downward gaze was treated to the sight of a jumble of clothing. A tangled ball of discarded panties loomed about a foot away taunting her with a promised scent she thankfully could not catch despite reflexively trying. 

When Kayla placed a hand upon her lower back and warned that the spanking was about to begin, Eileen suddenly felt foolish. Why was she here? Was her desperation so overwhelming that she had to rely on this much younger, utterly disorganized, and sloppy ‘kid’ to experience the loss of control she so desired? It was crazy. In her fantasies, she had always envisioned a disciplinarian in the mold of distinguished college professor, a graying male wearing a tweed jacket while demonstrating impeccable posture. Someone with maturity, intelligence, and who possessed enough secure confidence in their own self-discipline to be only too suited to share that guidance with those less self-possessed. Despite her gender and age, Kayla seemed to possess that character at least, but in light of this, Eileen’s admiration and respect were shaken. But before she could ponder this twist of fate further, a loud clap shot through the air producing a shocking sting in Eileen’s virgin buttcheek. And almost immediately thereafter another sting pulsed through the other.

The two slaps may have answered Eileen’s initial curiosity, but what followed satisfied her long-suppressed need. Kayla expertly punished the offered posterior with enthusiastic gusto. Dozens and dozens of hard slaps echoed through the room as the punishing impacts reverberated through the chubby, un-toned muscles. Eileen reacted as could be expected until her resistant energy was steadily spanked away. Then she just gave in, absorbing the intensifying pain gratefully and submissively. No longer a desperate anachronism, Eileen felt more now like a child, albeit a husky one, over the lap of an angry mother or aunt.

Afterwards, Eileen no longer questioned her decision, nor the abilities of her disciplinarian, but rather felt urged to try to repay her for the experience. Before she could speak, however, Kayla roughly ordered her to a corner so as to stand with her crimson throbbing bottom on display. Looking again at the room Eileen had another thought and boldly suggested a counteroffer: rather than merely stand uselessly in the corner, how would Kayla like if she were to act as a housekeeper and clean up the room? Ever practical, Kayla found it a great idea and agreed, with the condition that in keeping with the flavor of being on display in the corner, Eileen would have to clean the room, just as she was……naked.

Within an hour and a half, Eileen, expert straightener and compulsive neat-freak, had the room looking crisp and sharp. She even had a load of laundry already churning in Kayla’s small apartment washer. Before leaving, Eileen made Kayla an offer. Until she could find someone to take charge of her the way she wished, meaning within the context of a romantic relationship, would Kayla be willing to go on disciplining her in exchange for her housekeeping talents? Kayla needed no encouragement. The thought of a regularly-cleaned apartment coinciding with a regularly-spanked maid seemed too good to be true. A mutual bargain both practical and fun. So, with a nod, smile, and hug, it was agreed that they would make this a regular routine. Each Saturday Eileen would come over and be Kayla’s “butt-roasted maid”. 

The arrangement had gone on for about three weeks when one Friday evening Kayla got a text from her sister, Ashley. She was grounded yet again because their mother had walked into the nightmare that Ashley called a bedroom. In a flash of utter devilish brilliance, Kayla had an idea. The sisters texted back and forth until a devious game plan took shape in Kayla’s head. All that Ashley had to do was see to it that their mother would be out for the day and Kayla assured her that all would be made right with her room, though Kayla did not divulge how this miracle would transpire. Ashley figured she could suggest that their mother go out without worry and that when she returned her room would be as tidy as could be. A trade-off their frustrated mother would hardly refuse.

When Eileen arrived on Saturday, Kayla greeted her at the door and told her there would be a slight change of plans. Eileen’s face sunk in disappointment for despite the sting of Kayla’s expert spankings, she had grown to eagerly anticipate them, craving the burn in her behind as she worked. Kayla assured her that she’d still get her wish. “I just have a different room for you to clean today. And you are to do it first. Consider it a special favor for me. If you do a good job, you’ll be rewarded with a very thorough session across my lap afterwards.”

Eileen agreed finding the request both reasonable and intriguing. A short drive later they arrived at the home of Kayla’s mother. As planned, she had gone to the mall for the afternoon, leaving only Ashley at home …ostensibly to clean. Eileen entered and was introduced. Ashley was a typical 16-year old: petite, cute, a bit spoiled, and utterly addicted to both her Smartphone and Ipod. Kayla led Eileen to the offending room and laid out her challenge. Eileen could not believe the mess, but figured she would be appropriately rewarded for her duties and so she dove right in and started straightening without complaint or even comment. All the while she worked the sisters gabbed, and texted, and tweeted and giggled over Instagrams and gossip.

Two hours later, the girls were interrupted by a sweaty, panting, but beaming Eileen who announced to them both that the room was as good as she could get it. The two darted to see and cackled maniacally over the transformation. Ashley hugged her sister and thanked Eileen for the help. She asked how she could repay her but Eileen said demurely that Kayla would take care of it and not to worry about it. Something in her tone and the look on her older sister’s face made the teen suspicious. “What’s with this deal? Just exactly what kind of arrangement do you two have?”

Kayla chuckled, “a rather unique one but it isn’t any of your concern.”

Eileen looked over at the girl and said softly to Kayla, “it’s OK, you can tell her if you want. I don’t mind.”

The concession made Ashley even more intrigued, “OK now you’ve gotta spill. What’s the deal?”

Kayla then informed her sister of their special arrangement, but to Eileen’s surprise, the girl hardly seemed phased. 

“I knew there had to be some weird catch to all this” she had exclaimed, “leave it to you Kayla, that is just so frikkin’ awesome.” Turning to Eileen, Ashley asked bluntly, “so you clean up in exchange for being spanked, huh?”

Eileen nodded, now becoming more embarrassed.

“What, you like it?” she probed.

“I guess you could say that.”

“But you’re like so much older than my sister. Wow, that’s got to be like really embarrassing.”

Eileen swallowed and took a breath and then confessed honestly, “yes, it’s true. I am older than her, quite a bit older in fact, and yes, even though I admire your sister’s strength and confidence enough to have her be in charge like that, I will admit her age makes my situation even more embarrassing than it might be if our ages were reversed.”

“Then you know what? You should let me spank you!”

“What?” Eileen gasped.

“Yeah, it’s perfect! It’s my room you cleaned, and that is sort of the arrangement you have now, right? It will be my way of thanking you. And if being spanked by Kayla is embarrassing to you, imagine what it’ll be like getting a spanking from her younger sister!”

“I don’t know…..”

“Kid’s got a point there, Eileen. I hadn’t thought about it before, but I like it.” Eileen looked over at Kayla in surprise. She had fully expected her to come to her defense and dismiss the idea as ridiculous, but here she was endorsing it. The look amused Kayla making her laugh at the irony of Eileen’s new predicament. “Oh yes definitely. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Kayla turned to Eileen, “Eileen, I expect you to obey and do as I say in this. I am going to let Ashley give you a spanking today as repayment for your work and I want you to cooperate and show her the same respect you give me.” Turning to her sister she continued, “and you, Ashley, need to understand that even though Eileen has done you a big favor by cleaning your room and has done nothing wrong, you need to spank her as though she was a really naughty girl who misbehaved. No going easy on her, OK?”

“OK, Kayla, but to be honest, I hadn’t planned on going easy on her at all,” the eager girl grinned.

“Good. OK then what do you have around here that would work nicely on her butt? Do you have a hairbrush that would work?”

“I have this one,” Ashley offered, showing her a light plastic brush.

But Kayla frowned. “No, that’s no good. What about in the kitchen? Does Mom still have that oversized wooden spoon?”

“I think so. I’ll get it.” The teen returned with a small but heavy wooden spoon with a flattened back about 3” in diameter and handed it to her sister. Kayla struck it against her palm with a smack, and shook the stung hand with a smiling nod of approval. Eileen watched these events unfold as if she was in a dream, eyeing a spoon much heftier than the ones she was used to. Her rational mind seemed unwilling to accept that she was about to be spanked by the girl whose room she had just so diligently cleaned. Part of her rejected the notion as silly, while another part began to worry about the ordeal. She wanted to maintain something of her dignity even within this crazy situation, hoping to somehow endure the proposed spanking with an air of calm, submissive acceptance, but she worried that the practical result of hard wood energetically applied to her bare backside would not allow her this dignified stoicism. She pictured herself instead wriggling, moaning, yelping and kicking, while this cocky teenager laughed at her predicament. The thought was mortifying. And yet when told, she found herself obediently approaching the seated smug girl without protest. 

Yet, when Ashley looked up at her and snapped, “Come on, let’s get going.” Eileen froze. She heard the words but could not move. “You’re only going to make me mad,” Ashley teased. “If you think you were going to get it before, just wait until you see what happens if you don’t get moving ASAP!” It surprised both Eileen and Kayla how effortlessly Ashley was able to transform from the appreciative recipient of Eileen’s housekeeping to the eager spanker of her behind.

Eileen suddenly had a revelation. As strange as this situation seemed, it actually made sense in a lot of ways. Given her situation and arrangement with Kayla, this indignity was indeed logical. She may have been the oldest person in the room, but she was also the most submissive. How could she imagine any reversal of the situation with Eileen as the mature disciplinarian teaching Ashley the responsibilities of keeping a tidy room? This seated teen, despite her tender years had more confident dominance in her than she possessed, and given the situation, that fact determined the appropriateness of whatever followed. She searched her feelings and found not even a trace of desire to have Ashley over her lap, and yet Ashley’s face displayed a bold eagerness to spank her. She was a fraction of Eileen’s age and yet clearly in control. It was at that moment of revelation that Eileen calmly undid her jeans and slid them down along with her panties, kicked them aside and climbed over the waiting girl’s lap. Ashley looked like a kid who had been given a slice of birthday cake that was way bigger than she had imagined. 

“Okay, here we go,” she announced and began to spank the offered bottom. Kayla said nothing at first but seemed disappointed with her sister’s technique, however, when Ashley literally paused to answer a text, Kayla felt compelled to intervene.

“NO, no, no,” she critiqued. “You can’t text through a proper spanking. Put that away or I’m putting an end to this.”

Ashley looked up innocently, “What?”

“You are in charge right now. You need to act like it. Focus on what you’re doing. And what’s with this half-hearted spanking? I think Eileen put a helluva lot more effort into cleaning up your mess than you’re putting into this spanking you seemed so eager to give.”

“Hey, I’m smacking her. Look, her butt’s already pink where I hit,” Ashley defended indignantly.

“Barely pink. Put some muscle into it. You should have her kicking and yelping, not laying there like a corpse. Sorry Eileen,” Kayla added sincerely as she looked her in the eye.

“Hey, this is my first time. Sorry I’m not an expert,” Ashley pouted.

“Hey, you’re right. Sorry sis,” Kayla softened as she approached the pair. “OK, look at this,” she directed as she roughly grabbed and shook a handful of Eileen’s fatty buttcheek, “you have a lot to work with and it’s well padded,” she added as she slapped the flabby mound to demonstrate. “You can hit a big soft bottom like this pretty damn hard without doing it any real damage.” She took the spoon from her sister and gave a forceful smack that made Ashley’s eyes go as wide as Eileen’s. “See? Like that.” 

“That hard?” Ashley asked in surprise.

“Hell yeah, sis. It’s a spanking. Make it hurt. Eileen won’t be mad at you, will you Eileen?”

“No, Ma’am,” Eileen replied embarrassed to confirm Kayla’s statement.

The older sister then handed the spoon back and gave Ashley a brief tour of Eileen’s posterior, indicating where to hit and where to avoid. Ashley now realized she had a pretty broad field from top of the cheeks all the way to Eileen’s thigh-tops. The only spot she had to be careful of was near the tailbone, which given Eileen’s fat bottom, was pretty protected. Besides, there was a lot of surface to sting without even venturing close to it. “Tailbone’s off-limits, but you don’t have to worry much about that. See this spot here?” Kayla asked as she rubbed her hand over Eileen’s lower bottom. “This is the part of a bottom that you sit on. This is where you want to concentrate your smacks. It’s far from the tailbone and right where poor Eileen is going to feel it every time she sits today….and if you do a good job, even tomorrow. You can spank all around those big cheeks for sure, but this spot here is where you want to really roast her good.”

Eileen blushed as her anatomy was so clinically explained and was truly stunned when Ashley turned to her without any of her prior teenage attitude and asked, “hey, Eileen, you obviously heard everything Kayla told me. Is that all OK with you? Is that what you want me to do?”

The sincerity of the girl’s question touched her. She thought a moment then replied, 

”Ashley dear, you suggested this idea. It seemed like you wanted to spank me.”

“I do.”

“Then do it. Kayla just taught you how and I think that for me to still be here in this position should answer your question. I can’t tell you that I want you to spank me the way Kayla said because once you start I won’t. If you do a proper job, I’ll be wishing I never agreed to this. But……I am still here. Does that explain things better?”

The girl nodded, “yes, I think I get it. But now,” she added with a devilish grin, “I think you’re going to get it even more.”

Ashley then resumed the spanking, this time without her cell phone and with a lot more enthusiasm. Eileen started kicking almost immediately. The newfound freedom to guiltlessly cut loose and unleash her mischievous side was thrilling for the teen. She imagined Eileen as the embodiment of every adult authority figure she had ever had to submit to and unleashed her revenge into the innocent woman’s jiggling, quivering, ever-reddening bottom. Initially Eileen managed to remain pretty composed, ouching and clenching as would be reasonably expected, but as the girl continued, she inevitably abandoned her stoicism and dignity plaintively wriggling as she loudly moaned and whimpered on the verge of tears. 

Hearing the desperate reactions, Ashley shot her sister a concerned ‘is what I’m doing OK?’ look. Kayla read the expression and broke into a huge grin nodding while responding with a ‘thumbs up’ gesture. Reassured, Ashley indulged her dark side even more as she now verbally tormented her victim as she continued to spank. “How’s your bottom feeling?” she teased, “it’s looking pretty red.”

Taking advantage of the situation, Kayla joined in, “you’re right, sis, that’s some spanking she’s getting. What do you think it’s going to be like for her to sit on that butt?”

“Oh I think it would be pretty stingy.”

“Well I think you still need to hit harder.”

“Is that true, Eileen? Should I spank you harder?” Ashley asked the moaning victim.

“No please,” Eileen panted breathlessly between swats, “my bottom is on fire.”

“I said I think she should hit harder, Eileen. Are you contradicting me in front of my sister?” Kayla feigned outrage causing her sister to snicker.

“No, no, Ma’am. I’m sorry, Ma’am. Ashley, listen to your sister.”

“But I’m asking you.”

“Then ‘yes’. Yes, dear, spank me harder.”

“OK, if that’s what you want.” Ashley then really laid in hard landing fast brutal wallops that sent wobbly shockwaves through the massive cheeks. Eileen wailed honestly, the tears now flowing freely.

“Give her about a dozen more like that….all in those lower spots I showed you…… and then stop, ok, kid?” Kayla suggested in a serious, but gentle voice.

Ashley did as directed, marveling not only at the explosive sound of her strikes but at the ability of her victim to willingly stay in place despite what had to be excruciating pain.

Once finished, Eileen lay almost motionless on Ashley’s lap. If it wasn’t for her back heaving with each deep breath, she might have appeared unconscious. The last dozen blows forced warty nubs to bloom across Eileen’s swollen, multicolored backside. The perimeter or each plump mound was as pink as the center of a medium rare steak as were the tops of her thighs, while the lower two thirds of the beaten orbs were a painful mix of deep watermelon red and purplish bruising, with a dusty whitish patch of hot dry skin directly in the spots hit most often. The tender crescent where thigh met buttock was also a darker pink, but more noticeable than color was how much that sensitive strip seemed to swell in comparison to the other areas. As Eileen caught her breath, Ashley could not help but touch the beaten cheeks. She was amazed to feel the stark difference. Initially baby smooth, doughy, and almost cool to the touch, they now felt weird, oddly fake, like an underinflated pool toy left out in the sun. She found the transformation fascinating and felt a strange wave of personal satisfaction as having been the author of such a profound change.

Eventually all parties recovered and Eileen got off of Ashley’s lap, though she moved clumsily as if a bit drunk. Her face was red and wet from tears. Kayla offered some tissues from a nearby box. Ashley appeared a bit uncomfortable at Eileen’s appearance, since she herself had found the situation quite humorous. How could such a thing be anything other than funny? And since Eileen wanted the punishment Ashley never imagined that she’d end up crying. Ouching and clenching, sure….that only made sense, but a fully wet face? “Are you OK?” she asked her sniffling victim.

Eileen nodded. “I’m OK dear. It was just a hard spanking is all.”

“Sorry…” Ashley began to apologize, but Eileen stopped her.

“Sweetheart, it’s OK. You did a great job…..for a first-timer, you spanked like an expert. You must be a natural. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And as long as you say you’re OK I will admit it was a lot more fun than I even thought it would be.”

“Would you want to do it again sometime?” her big sister interjected.

An energetic “Sure!” was the immediate response.

“Well that would depend on Eileen.”

Eileen thought a moment appreciating that Kayla respected her enough to make this her choice. She looked at Ashley and recalled the embarrassment of being spanked by one so young and eager. However, ever-practical, Eileen smiled a bit devilishly herself and turned to Ashley. “You are a smart person, but this room that upset your mother so much was unworthy of you. Today I cleaned it because your sister asked me to, but rather than come here again to clean it for you, I have a counteroffer: two Saturdays from now, when you are no longer grounded, if Kayla agrees, we will stop by to pick you up on our way to her house. If your room is neat and everything in order, you can come with us to your sister’s. Once there, as a reward for your neatness, I will let you spank me again.....only then you’ll be able to use your sister’s paddle instead of the spoon.”

Kayla interjected, “and it’s a pretty nasty paddle too. What Eileen is offering is no small sacrifice. One clean room and you’ll be able to roast her butt even worse than today.”

“OK,” Ashley smiled, “I accept the challenge.”

“You think you can keep this room clean?” Eileen asked almost maternally.

Ashley smiled mischievously, “oh I think I can, but a better question is: do you think you can handle the spanking I’m going to give you when I do?”

Eileen blushed at the playful threat realizing there was probably more truth than bravado in the taunt and didn’t immediately answer. Kayla couldn’t resist taking advantage of Eileen’s sudden loss for words and answered in her place, “sis, you follow through on your end and I’ll see that Eileen holds up her end……literally.” To which everyone including Eileen laughed.

In the car, Eileen winced as she slid into her seat. “God, my bottom hurts!”

Kayla chuckled. “No surprise, Ashley gave it to you good….after a little bit of coaching of course.”

Eileen glanced sidelong at her grinning friend, “uh huh, yeah. Thanks for that bit of intervention,” she added sarcastically. “Just tell me you don’t have any more sloppy siblings in your family.”

Kayla laughed heartily, “No you’re safe on that score. Though For the first time I am sorry I don’t have a kid brother. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Ha…..ha,” Eileen responded with mock irritation at the tease.”

“Oh stop. You’d probably love it. But don’t worry, it’s only Ashley and me.”

“Believe me, that’s plenty enough for me,” the sore-bottomed passenger pouted as she wriggled uncomfortably in her seat. “I can’t believe how hard she can hit!”

Kayla nodded proudly, “yeah and those last few had to be brutal. They landed so hard they actually hurt my ears. I can only imagine how much they hurt your butt. You’re really going to have a hard time when I spank you.”

“What?”

“Hey I told you you were going to get a special spanking from me for cooperating at my Mom’s house, and I meant it. Just because Ashley spanked you doesn’t mean I’m not going to. But there is one bit of good news.”

“What’s that?”

“You remember what you told Ashley about her room? Well I have a surprise for you.”

When they arrived at Kayla’s apartment, Eileen was led to Kayla’s bedroom. She initially just assumed it was for her spanking, but was shocked when she saw the room was surprisingly tidy. No scattered clothes, no mess of any kind. Kayla beamed proudly, “ I began to like the way this place looked when you were done with it, and thought that maybe it was time I started to act a bit more responsibly myself. When I heard that Ashley got grounded, I felt a bit immature at having the same problem myself. So I cleaned up on my own and vowed to keep the place neat…..maybe not as perfect as when you are done with it…but I think it’s an improvement.”

“It’s amazing,” Eileen gushed, “I’m so proud of you!”

“You’re a good influence on me Eileen. And you’re a good friend.”

“Thanks.”

Then changing to a less sentimental tone, Kayla grinned, ”but good friend or not, I still owe you a spanking. You think that butt of yours can handle another round?”

“I don’t see as I have much of a choice. You are the boss when it comes to this, but don’t think I’m not more than a little nervous.”

"It’s OK, I won’t kill you,” Kayla laughed, “but other than that I make no promises.”

Eileen frowned playfully as she stripped for her friend. But as she placed herself over her lap, she felt a wave of pride and admiration, she was proud of herself for actually having positively influenced and helped both Kayla and Ashley with their neatness issues, while admiring the two young girls for their strength and confidence in being able to confidently take charge of her as disciplinarians. Strict and guiltless. Eileen could still feel the heat emanating from her sore bottom and waited for Kayla’s promised spanking with a simultaneous contradiction of fear and desire. “Kayla, I…I…have to admit I’m a bit scared.”

“It’s OK, Eileen, I understand. This is probably going to be very difficult for you. But since you don’t really get spanked for misbehavior but more a reward, you should take some comfort in knowing that because you have done so much for us, I feel I owe you the sorest butt you’ve ever sat upon. Kind of my way of saying ‘thanks’.”

This time Eileen’s tears started to trickle before the first swat ever even landed, however, once the spanking did begin, they flowed freely throughout.

-------the end

Deep Pockets

The best thing about the prospect of babysitting Erica Smithson was the eight foot pool table that occupied the center of their family room. The worst thing was that, other than Erica who was only thirteen, there was no one to play with while there. Fran pondered this cruel fact while deciding whether or not to take the sitting job. Eventually she rationalized that even a 13 year old opponent was better than none when you had no table in your own home….and with school finally out, Fran welcomed the few extra bucks for summer vacation. It would be like getting paid to play her favorite game, with the only downside being not having someone she knew to play with. 

Fran loved pool. She first learned to play on her uncle’s table, using the bridge for every shot just so she could reach the cue ball. She loved the clarity of the geometry and physics involved long before she knew what geometry and physics were. Later she just played wherever she could, vowing that one day she’d have a table of her own. Then, through word-of-mouth, this sitting opportunity presented itself. She didn’t know much about the Smithsons except they had a table and she didn’t. The truth was the Smithsons had a lot of things her family lacked, with money occupying the crucial top slot. But since rich people went out and needed reliable sitters, fate provided the desperate pool player an opportunity too good to pass up. 

Fran decided to be completely honest with Mr. Smithson when she agreed to sit for Erica and asked outright if she could use the table while there. Mr. Smithson merely asked if she had played pool before and if she could promise that no harm would come to the table, either in the form of a gouged felt or spilled drink. The eager sitter-to-be informed him that she had been playing since she was little and promised she’d be careful, vowing no beverages would even enter the room let alone rest upon the table. Satisfied by the response, Mr. Smithson gave his permission fulfilling Fran’s wish.

---------

On the day of the sitting job, Fran quick-marched the two blocks to their home, met with the Smithsons, and took note of all the necessary contact information before the couple left. Once they did, Fran eagerly approached Erica, who was swishing her finger across the screen of her cellphone and asked if she’d play pool with her. The brooding brunette looked as if she’d been asked to cut off her own fingers. “Oh god no,” she groaned. “I hate that stupid table.”

“But it’s beautiful,” Fran praised. “I’d give anything for a table like that, but we have no room for one,” she admitted omitting her unspoken thought: ‘and no money for one either.’ Erica returned to her cellphone unimpressed. “Oh, please?” she cajoled.

The girl looked up with a cold stare and said, “it won’t be any fun for me at all. Besides, you’re older than me and I’ll lose every game.”

“Alright it’s true I have played a bit here and there, Erica,” Fran conceded, ”but I’m not that good. I think we’d be evenly matched. I mean you do have your own table! I’m sure you’ve played on it at some point.”

“Sure, I have. But I don’t really like it. It’s kind of boring.” Erica shrugged in mocking pantomime, “hit the ball, put it in a pocket, hit the ball, put it in a pocket……ugh!” Fran scrambled to think of some way to entice the girl into playing and suggested competing for some sort of stakes to make the game more appealing. “Like what?” Erica frowned with a raised eyebrow. “Money? Because I don’t have a job. You’re at least paid to babysit. I don’t even get an allowance and yet my parents are willing to give you money. I don’t even know why you’re here. I’m definitely old enough to not need a sitter.”

Hearing the rich girl complain about money and her situation irked Fran a bit. Maybe the brat didn’t get an allowance, but it sure looked like she got whatever she wanted just for the asking. And maybe she was too old to need a sitter, but obviously her parents had their reasons, so here she was. But still eager for the game, Fran buried her annoyance and continued, “well, we don’t have to play for money and we don’t even have to play for stakes that are evenly matched. Since I’m the one who wants to play and you don’t, I’d be willing to slant things in your favor to make playing more fun for you. And if we do something like that, maybe I won’t seem so much like a sitter, but just someone to play pool with and have some fun?”

Upon hearing this, Erica perked with mild interest. “What did you have in mind?” she asked flatly.

Unfortunately Fran didn’t have anything in mind, just a concept. So she ran a whirlwind of possibilities through her head. “How about if I let you have any sort of snack you’d like if you play?”

Erica smiled ever so slightly, “maybe. What else?”

Now Fran thought furiously over how she could sweeten the pot beyond a treat. “I don’t know, Erica. I’m open to suggestion though.”

Erica put down her phone and bore her brown eyes into the blue ones of the girl who was supposed to be in charge of her, amused at how desperate she seemed. “Well,” the girl offered in a slow suggestive tone, “what if there was some sort of penalty for each time you missed a shot?”

Fran hesitated at the suggestion, “I don’t know about that. Like I said, I’m not that good.”

“OK then, what if instead of a penalty for every time you missed, there was a penalty to you for each ball I sunk?”

“Well, if we’re going to play 8-ball, that might not be so bad,” the sitter reasoned. “At best….or worst for me….. you’d only get to sink a total of eight balls even if you won. But what sort of penalty did you have in mind? Something like a ‘Truth or Dare’-type thing? Because just because I get paid for tonight doesn’t mean I want to gamble that money away. I need it.”

Erica scrunched her face in thought, “no, I don’t want your money. But I also don’t think if I’m trying to concentrate on my game that I would want to have to think of some new question every single time I get lucky enough to put a ball in…………..even though I do like the idea of a dare. I just don’t want to have to keep coming up with a new one every time.”

“A repeatable dare? I can’t think of much that would work being done over and over,” Fran doubted.

“Oh, I can. What if whether I win or lose, each time I sink a ball of mine I get to smack your butt?”

“What? Like a spanking?” Fran eyed the girl with a quizzical look.

“Not a whole spanking, just a few whacks per ball, but you’d get them every time I make one.”

Fran started thinking that this was now getting a bit weird and started to shrug off the idea. But seeing Erica’s face simply revert back to its original disinterested blankness at her hesitation made her rethink her stance. Perhaps it would be worth the risk. “That would make you want to play?” she asked.

“Yeah, the treat you offered plus the penalty smacks and I think it might be worth my while,” the mischievous imp grinned with taunting hesitation.

“Well, it’s not like you have anything to lose.”

“True. Except my time. Oh and speaking of losing, don’t expect me to accept any sort of penalty if I lose. Like I said, you’re way older than me.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t even suggest it. You are right. In fact,” Fran impetuously offered, “I’ll tell you what. In 8-ball, any player can end up scratching at the end and losing, even after clearing the table like a pro. I could lose like that. And I’ll tell you what….if I do, I’ll accept any additional penalty of your choice.”

“Hmmm,” Erica smiled visibly warming to the mounting offers, “we could be very close to a deal here. So let’s get this straight. All I have to do is agree to play and you’ll get me the treat of my choice?”

“Within reason.”

“Rita’s?” Erica suggested.

“I think a gelati or flavored ice is very reasonable, so yes,” Fran consented.

“Ok, so I get Rita’s and you have to accept butt smacks for every ball I make and an even bigger penalty if you scratch?”

“Yep.”

“How many?” Erica asked eagerly.

“How many what?”

“Smacks, silly.”

“I don’t care. You decide,” Fran suggested now more focused on getting to play than the price she was willing to pay for doing so.

“OK, how about 10 per ball? And 50 for a losing scratch?”

“Deal!”

The game began with Fran executing a fine break. She practically sighed with joy as the expensive Belgian balls careened off the rails and clacked off each other. No old table she had ever played on before had such wonderful action. She was in pool-player’s heaven, totally unconcerned about her opponent or the penalties. Once or twice, when Erica made a shot, she merely turned, bent slightly, and let the smiling girl slap her rump a few times. It was kind of cute and funny, and hardly stung at all. Eventually the game drew to a close as Fran focused on the eight, which had fortuitously positioned itself very near a corner pocket. It required only a gentle tap from only about a foot away to safely sink it and win. 

“That was fun,” Fran jubilantly exclaimed as the ball dropped in as intended!

“For you maybe,” her youthful opponent frowned sullenly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I hoped you had fun too because I’d love to play another game.”

“No way! That sucked.” Erica scowled. “You practically ran the table and what? I only got to smack you like 20 times….. and over those jeans I think it hurt my hand more than your butt! I’m just going to go on my laptop for a while.”

“Oh, please, Erica, just one more game,” the excited sitter begged. But as the young girl turned away, Fran couldn’t help blurting out, “we can even change a few things so they’ll be better.”

“Like what?” Erica turned with a doubtful, deadpan stare.

“Um, OK, you say you only sank two balls and only got to spank me 20 times. What if we double the penalty to 20 per ball, and…….” Fran sighed, “you don’t have to just use your hand. If there’s a hairbrush or something around, you can use that so you don’t hurt your hand.”

“Maybe,” Erica wheedled, “but giving them over your jeans was really lame. That denim is like armor. You never even felt those slaps. Even with a hairbrush, if we do this it’s gotta be bare butt or nothing.”

Fran blinked at the prospect of offering her naked behind to this girl she barely knew, but the desire to play pool trumped her modesty. “OK,“ she agreed nervously at first, then strangely felt a bit proud of her decision. Somehow the idea of having to expose herself to this younger girl, with her dark eyes and determined expression and let her spank her, seemed naughty and brazen. 

“And one last thing: if the ball penalty is doubled, then the losing penalty gets doubled as well. And not just for a scratch, but for losing in any way. And…” the young girl bargained, “I get a double-sized gelati from Rita’s, not just a regular.”

Fran agreed to the harsher terms and the girls had another deal.

The second game started similarly but soon took on a slightly different aspect as Erica cooly sank three balls in a row after Fran’s break, missing her fourth shot by a narrow margin. Erica said nothing, but gave her opponent a ‘come on, let’s go’ look. The girl’s expectant face now brought their verbal agreement into a reality that embarrassed Fran more than she thought it would. Her stomach fluttered oddly as a wave of dizzying heat pulsed though her face. Almost numbly, she found herself unhitching her jeans before her turn and bending over a nearby sofa back in a compliant trance with her naked posterior in full view. Erica, using a wooden hairbrush she retrieved from her mother’s dresser, then spanked that bare bottom, not even slightly pink from the earlier twenty, with sixty crisp wallops that echoed through the vaulted room. Fran twisted a bit and ‘ouched’ to each smack, too late realizing that what she agreed to was no fluffy token penalty but a real spanking.

“There, that’s better,” Erica commented with a rare smile, “now your bottom looks like it’s been spanked.”

“It feels it too! Holy crap, those stung,” Fran forced a smile in return as she zipped up admitting the hairbrush on a bare butt definitely made a difference. She then refocused to sink two more solids before Erica sunk two more of her stripes, resulting in another painful trip over the sofa, until Fran managed to finally clear the table of her targeted solids. Now she concentrated solely on the eight-ball. She missed sinking it twice before finally succeeding on her third attempt. After her missed attempts, Erica had slowly sunk an additional ball on each turn, adding even more spanks to Fran’s coloring bottom, before leaving only the nine on the table when Fran finally won. Fran’s excitement over winning eclipsed the honest sting in her bottom, though she had certainly paid a much dearer price for this game than the first. “Good game, Erica. That was close. You only lost by one ball. But even though you lost, you still get a double-sized treat. How about we go right now? I may be victorious but my butt could definitely use a break,” she joked as she rubbed her bottom for emphasis. “You’re pretty deadly with a hairbrush.”

The two girls walked the three blocks to the shop and, true to her word, Fran bought her opponent a big vanilla and root beer gelati. She even bought herself a lemon ice. As they walked back home Erica spoke between slurps, “thanks for the gelati, Fran.”

“Hey, it was all part of the deal. You earned it and you played pretty good in that second game. And this time you even got to give me a pretty good number of smacks before we were done. I don’t remember ever getting a spanking that bad as a girl. What I think it was like over 100?”

“Yup. 120 to be exact. And giving them so you actually felt them was more fun too,“ she admitted with a bit of enthusiasm. 

“Changing the rules like you did really made it more interesting for me. And that game was pretty close.”

“Yeah, you did pretty well.”

“I’ll bet if we played again I could win,” Erica bragged with cheerful optimism.

“Well, it’s early. I guess we could play again, but I think my butt has had enough for one day. Wanna just play for fun?”

Erica reverted to her pout, “heck no. The only reason I played at all was because you made the stakes fun for me. But nevermind, it’s OK if your bottom’s too sore. I understand. I’ll just hang out for a bit and watch TV.”

Seeing an opportunity slip, Fran rethought things and figured another game might not be so bad. Sure the spanks would sting but it was certainly nothing she couldn’t handle. “No, let’s play. My butt isn’t that delicate. Same stakes as before….minus the Rita’s obviously.“

“OK, cool, but since that last game was so close can we up the penalty if I win?” Erica suggested eagerly.

“Honey, I know it’s all too easy for me to screw up on the eight. I think the penalty is fair at 100.”

“OK, then, Fran, what if we leave the scratch penalty at 100, but if I win by sinking the eight-ball, you know…. like a true win, your penalty is 200?”

Fran was hesitating with a twist of her lips when Erica amended the offer. “OK, what about if there’s no penalty at all if you scratch, but if I win by sinking the eight it’s 200?”

Fran immediately liked that option. Based on how Erica had played, Fran figured she could beat her on balls and would probably only lose if she scratched and therefore agreed. The worst might be another 100 spaced out whacks for the individual balls pocketed, and those weren’t so hard to take in small doses and despite the genuine sting, Fran inexplicably found the prospect of being spanked again by her youthful opponent oddly appealing. The fact that Erica was younger and more petite made her submission to the spanking seem deliciously wicked. “OK, but let’s finish our ice first. It’ll give my butt some time to cool down too,” she joked while secretly thinking, ‘so you can warm it back up again.’ And while Fran did not wish to lose and suffer the big penalty, she also found herself strangely hoping Erica would manage to keep the game as close as the last one. It was as if the seemingly innocent bet had awakened something deep within Fran that didn’t feel innocent at all. She was now not only looking forward to another game of pool, but more spanking as well.

Once the treats were slurped down and gooey fingers washed, the two girls went back to the table. “You won, so you break,” Erica shrugged as she chalked her own cue stick. Fran aligned the cue ball off-center and struck hard sending the tight triangle of multi-colored orbs scattering and rebounding off all rails until the red three, dawdling uncertainly near the corner pocket, finally fell in. On her second shot she called the seven in the side and Erica interrupted. “It’s your call, Fran, but just because a solid went in doesn’t mean you have to play another. The stripes are set up way better.”

Fran frowned suspiciously at the advice. “But then you’ll already be up one and that seven is just begging to go in. I think I’m just going to take it.” Fran aimed carefully on the easy shot hoping to set up for the five next. She made the seven with no problem, but her set-up for the five was sloppy and she had to aim at a steeper angle than she would have liked for the side pocket. The shot looked good at first but the orange sphere nicked the protruding bumper and bounced away.

“Good try,” Erica said in consolation as she lined up her shot on the nine, “but when you shoot for the side you have to remember not to aim at the pocket but at the opening between the rails, otherwise you end up hitting the closer rail and missing like you did.” Erica then pulled back and rocked her right arm forward sending the cue ball to greet the nine. In it went while the white cue ball rolled into position on the 15 as if controlled telepathically. In went the 15. Fran stood in a numb trance as she watched Erica slowly and methodically clear the table of striped balls. Each shot clicked off like the measured working of a clock, setting up each subsequent shot until only the eight remained. After each shot, Erica got into position for her next one before the cue ball even stopped rolling only to have it arrive inches in front of where her chalked tip was already waiting. Calling the corner, Erica then executed a precise delivery of ball to pocket with the cue remaining very squarely on the table. “Not for nothing, Fran, but I told you the stripes were set up really good. You should have listened.”

Fran seemed to be in a state of shock as she realized she had been sharked. Erica did not gloat however as she approached her babysitter with a friendly outstretched hand. “Come on, “ she said in a gentle whisper, “we may as well head up to my room where we can do this right. I owe you a total of 360 smacks and that’s going to take a while. It will probably just be easier if you just take off your jeans and panties completely and lay across my lap on the bed. Just because your butt’s going to end up really sore doesn’t mean the rest of you has to be uncomfortable.”

Fran listened to the calm, soothing voice as she accepted the offered hand in a daze and let herself be led to her earned consequence. She could think of nothing to say in protest. Her young opponent was behaving with slick professionalism, neither celebrating nor teasing. Fran had been completely taken. Once inside the girl’s bedroom, Fran wordlessly kicked off her sandals and pulled down her jeans and panties together and tossed them aside as she watched both herself and Erica in the large mirror atop the girlish dresser. She could see the girl in a 360 degree view with her back to her and her smirking reflection beside her own in the mirror. What a comical tableau. Here she was, an athletic and responsible High School Junior, mere weeks away from becoming a senior, standing half naked in the room of a mere kid she was supposed to be watching, and instead, that same kid was now digging through her drawer in a dresser littered with Hello Kitty figurines. She thought back on her bizarre desire to be spanked some more by this girl and now she was about to get her wish in spades.

Fran was barely surprised when Erica found what she was after and turned with a broad smile, armed with a polished wooden paddle that seemed to have seen its share of action. “So all that time you were using your mom’s hairbrush, sitting up here was your very own paddle? I suppose you sharked me on the spanking part too?” Fran asked without anger.

Erica nodded, “yeah, I’m afraid so.”

“So,” Fran began nervously as the full reality of how thoroughly conned she had been now set in, “the smacks from before? Nothing compared to what I should expect now, huh?”

Erica shook her head in amused sympathy, “nope, as stingy as those earlier smacks might have felt at the time, they were just part of the set-up. The real spanking has yet to begin and this time you are really going to feel it. I got this paddle off the internet. Does quite a job. Now come on over.”

“So you’ve done all this before I take it?” the defeated sitter inquired as she resolutely shuffled to the seated victor.

“Uh huh. It’s kind of fun and adds a whole new level to the game. Pool’s so boring otherwise,” the young shark admitted without guilt as she patted her lap indicating that the older girl should now climb across it. “The best part is when the person starts to promise me anything if I’ll just stop spanking.”

“And I suppose that’s of no use?” Fran asked while placing her pink cheeks in further jeopardy, feeling a bit foolish as her long body dwarfed that of the girl about to do the spanking.

“No, not at all, I actually make everyone the same deal,” Erica sighed casually as her left hand nudged Fran’s top higher up her back before resting on her victim’s bare waist. “I’m willing to end the spanking any time before the full amount is given, provided they are willing to show me a very …..um…..intense level of respect instead.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you can spare your butt a lot of pain if you’re willing to kiss my feet and suck my toes for the entire time until my parents get back.”

Fran blinked at the self-assured arrogance, then snarkily replied, “I don’t suppose you get many takers on that generous offer.”

Erica laughed at the sarcasm, “aww don’t be that way. You’d be surprised. Girls tougher than you have left here with the taste of my toes in their mouth. But the funny part is not one of them ever agreed to do it early on and really save their bottom. Only after they are red and raw and feel they can’t take another smack, do they suddenly become so willing. They start out just like you, all acting like there’s no way they’d do something like that….but after some time over my lap they all end up doing such an eager job. It’s really hysterical.”

Fran shuddered at the thought and steeled herself for the ordeal to come, inwardly cursing her own naivete but determined to retain her self-respect for the full dose owed her. “Don’t be surprised if I upset your record,” Fran snapped.

Erica just snickered, “you’re all the same! So predictable.”

“You’ve really done this that many times?” Fran inquired suspiciously.

But Erica replied with the calm of someone with nothing to prove, “quite a few. I started playing for spanking stakes just over a year ago….with sitters like you, with friends. The foot thing started out because one girl my own age was being a real baby about the spanking and I wanted something nasty to offer her as an alternative. I read about people making others kiss their feet and it sounded like a really demeaning thing to make someone do, so that’s the choice I gave her. I was pretty surprised when she agreed right away. I guess her butt was just too delicate for the spanking she was getting. Anyway, I don’t know whether she was grateful for the spanking to end or whether she just liked my feet, but she was very enthusiastic. And as much as I enjoyed spanking her, I had to admit that seeing this girl from my dance class with my toes in her mouth was pretty intense. And once I got to feel what it was like, I was hooked. I’m telling you, there’s nothing better than getting your toes sucked. In winter it feels warm and cozy. In summer it’s nice and cool and refreshing.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Fran replied with annoyance.

“Well, you should try it………. if you ever get the chance,” the seated disciplinarian suggested sincerely and without malice. 

“Now are you all settled and ready?”

“Uh huh,” Fran grunted.

“Hey, I’m not big on the whole’ Miss’ or ‘Ma’am’ thing, but considering the position you’re in, you could answer with a bit more respect.”

“Sorry. I’m ready, Erica,” the older girl responded blushing at having be put in her place by someone so young, and angry that she knew Erica was right to correct her. ‘Considering the position’ the younger girl did deserve her respect. Fran wasn’t sure why she felt so conflicted, why she was acting so bitchy. Part of her accepted that, regardless of the con, Erica had not cheated. She had won her right to spank fairly. And that……heck…… she even wanted Erica to spank her. But part of her was resisting as well, embarrassed at being at the mercy of the girl she was supposedly in charge of for the day, jealous at the girl who seemingly had everything, and yet, slowly realizing that while her wealth might have been an undeserved perk of the family she happened to be born into, her ability, confidence, and mischievous charm were all aspects of who Erica essentially was.

The spanking began with Erica burning the paddle into the older girl’s plump seat with such crisp authority, that Fran simply could not help but cry out. Erica spread the sting around but kept returning to the two same spots on the under-curve of each buttock, extending ever so slightly onto the upper thigh. The paddle stung much more than the hairbrush and Erica was spanking harder as well. After only a dozen swats, Fran began to think that she truly might not be able to make it through the whole ordeal. She had hoped she could handle the entire punishment and not wimp out, sure she could take the 360 even if it meant a very sore behind, if for no other reason than to prove this devilish con artist wrong. It was devastating to later realize that this mere girl had so thoroughly mastered the insights into the human mind and knew exactly what choices people would eventually make once their bottoms were sufficiently punished. For Fran it took just over 200 paddle-strokes. 

The spanked sitter wasn’t sure how she felt about conceding little more than half-way through her earned penalty. Would it have been better to have just agreed to the requested act of deference from the start and had a mildly-stung bottom from the earlier game or should she feel that at least she resisted the degrading fate for as long as she did even though her behind was now a throbbing mass of agony? Fran preferred to console herself with the latter even though she knew that Erica probably preferred the latter as well. Either way, Fran couldn’t even claim an honorable handling of the situation. She had not rationally changed her mind and then calmly requested Erica’s earlier offer. After the spanking reached a point where each smack just exponentially fueled the fire in her wriggling seat, Fran just blubbered like a child and pleaded for the trade, kicking wildly as Erica continued to spank as she taunted her victim with questions like: “are you sure?” and “Is that what you really want?”

Fran’s replies were not calm assents but plaintive assurances that she wanted nothing more than to kiss the girl’s feet just so long as she stopped the spanking. She didn’t even retain enough pride to blush when the girl giggled at her begging. But true to her word, Erica did stop and let Fran up. She said nothing. Just scooted herself back towards the pillows against her headboard as she retrieved the remote to her TV and turned it on as she used opposite feet to push the shoe off the other. She left her socks for Fran to remove and then just laid back and watched her shows as Fran approached the sweaty extremities. 

The hot day had not been kind to Erica’s cooped-up peds and her moist feet emitted a yeasty odor not unlike sourdough before being baked. Fran instinctively bristled at the aroma which triggered a snicker from her tormentor, but not wishing to return to her former position over the girl’s lap, she took a breath and very tentatively delivered the first of many kisses. Erica’s toes wiggled under her lips like pink grubs. Then as she grew accustomed to their odd fragrance, Fran progressed from lip-kisses to submissively using her tongue to lick their musk away. At least they didn’t smell like an open bag of Dorito’s the way her brother’s would after a game of one-on-one. Nor were they grimy or unkempt. They were actually kind of cute. Having money must have ensured frequent trips to a nail salon as evidenced by the professional polish adorning the perfect toenails. Even Erica’s little feet were prettier than her own. “Is this girl going to outdo me in everything?” Fran wondered while probing the nooks, as salty as vinegar chips, between Erica’s toes.

It was a long while before they heard a car pull up. Fran’s saliva had bathed Erica’s toes for so long they were now both odorless and pruney. “Your folks are home,” Fran stated flatly.

“Yeah, OK, you did your part. You can go,” the contented shark announced with an air of disappointment, then added, “whatever you may think, Fran, I did have fun with you today. I’m going to tell my parents to ask you to sit the next time they go out.”

Fran nodded at the offer. “Maybe,” she replied, surprising herself with her willingness to possibly put herself in this same position again. “See ya,” she blushed as she left Erica’s room feeling as though her mouth would never be fresh again.

Downstairs she met the Smithsons and Mr. Smithson paid her for her time asking if everything had gone well and if Erica had behaved herself. Fran assured both parents that everything went just fine and thanked them for the use of the table. Mr. Smithson offered her a ride, but it was barely 11 and only a short walk to her house. It was an excuse Fran devised so she wouldn’t have to sit just yet. She was afraid she’d be unable to avoid wincing as she slid into the passenger seat and did not wish to display that embarrassing reaction in front of Erica’s father.

Heading home, she wondered if the Smithsons were aware of the shark in their midst but realized it didn’t matter either way. Erica had played her as perfectly as she executed a bank shot, though oddly, Fran did not resent her for it. Despite the cruel chafing making her wince as she walked the two blocks home, she envied the girl. Though young, Erica was a prodigy of human nature. And though it cost her a raw bottom, Fran not only got paid for her time at the Smithson’s but learned a lot there as well. She leaned you should always look at the whole table after a break and not just the easiest shot. She now knew how to properly aim for a side pocket. She learned that you should never assume a person with a table in their home isn’t a proficient player despite whatever they may claim. She learned about sharking, and spanking, and doubted she’d ever forget what one particular thirteen-year-old girl’s smelly feet tasted like at the end of a long summer’s day.

Epilogue:

When Fran’s cell phone acknowledged a text from Erica Smithson rather than a call from Mr. Smithson, she blinked in surprise. The text simply said, “Hi its me Erica. I know i told you i was going to ask 4 u again as a sitter but my parents decided that since i was home alone during the day i could be trusted to be left alone if they went out. Sorry. No more sitters for me. Would have liked to have seen you again hope ur good.”

The brief missive affected Fran unexpectedly. After their last encounter, she wasn’t sure she would ever want to go back there, but now that the possibility of sitting for Erica was suddenly eliminated, she found she was disappointed. She tried to put the text out of her mind and did not reply, but the darned thing haunted her for days, days in which strange and shocking ideas tormented her. One late morning, after a week of confused anxiety, Fran texted Erica back.

“Sorry for not answering sooner. Can I come over to talk?”

Fran was startled when she received a reply mere seconds later.

“Yes im home just ring bell”

Erica smiled warmly at her guest and let her inside where the central air-conditioning refreshed Fran after her walk.

“Hey, sorry about the sitting thing not working out. I know you probably could have used the money,” Erica started.

“No, it’s good. You definitely don’t need a sitter,” Fran smiled knowingly, acknowledging the young girl’s maturity.

“Well, I’m not even sure you’d have agreed after the last time,” Erica sighed, “and I don’t think if you did, you’d let yourself be sharked again no matter how much you love pool.”

“No, you definitely wouldn’t fool me a second time. I know you’re way better than me,” Fran began, then with a short reflective pause continued, “but that’s what I’ve been thinking about.”

“What?” the former shark asked bluntly.

“I was wondering if maybe you could teach me to be a better player?” Fran stalled before continuing, “I don’t really have a lot of money to pay you for your time, but I was thinking that without new sitters coming over, given your………..interests,” Fran emphasized the word with obvious innuendo, “you might be willing to have me compensate you for your time with the sort of attention you like so much?”

Erica’s mouth slacked, then firmed into a smile, then twisted into a grin of evil delight. “Hmmmmm, such an interesting and unexpected idea. It’s very tempting,” the girl admitted.

Fran then blushed and shuffled nervously, looking about evasively before summoning enough courage to continue. “I was also thinking that since you have certain interests and talents beyond just pool, you could be a very motivating teacher,” the older girl stated trying to hint at what she was too embarrassed to say outright.

The clever brunette nodded at the vague but clear suggestion. “You are right. I do have ways of making a student try their hardest,” she chuckled. “So is this your offer?” Fran could only nod. Sensing her difficulty, Erica summed up the proposal instead. “So, what we’re looking at here is the possibility of meeting a few times a week, probably around this time when we have some privacy, to learn the finer points of pool. In exchange for my services, you are willing to indulge my weakness for a certain attention paid to….these,” Erica stated as she pointed to her wiggling toes. “And you agree to my rules about how I am willing to teach you and that my method of motivating you to learn will involve a certain paddle in my dresser drawer?”

“Yes, Erica, that’s what I’m proposing…..if you’re willing.”

Erica tossed back her head with a silent open-mouthed smile. “You do realize that no matter how hard you work or how fast you learn, the odds of you leaving here without a very red bottom are pretty slim?”

Now it was Fran’s turn to laugh. “You think I don’t know that?”

“You know, I’m not sure how I feel about this idea of yours,” Erica began. “I’m not sure if your offer is because you are so desperate to be the best pool player around that you’d do anything, no matter how unpleasant, to learn. Or,” she paused with a raised eyebrow, “if maybe, these conditions you are so willing to put up with are not just for my benefit?”

“Does it matter as long as we both agree on them?” Fran asked.

“I think it does,” the brunette admitted.

“Really? So what would you think of me if I told you that ever since that day you sharked me, all I’ve wanted to do was come back and have you spank me again?”

“If it was true? Besides being honest I’d think you were very sweet.”

“That’s me …..one big gooey pot of honey,” Fran snickered to hide her embarrassment.

“You know…” Erica sighed, “that day you asked me if I had pulled that con on a lot of others besides you, and I told you I did. But what I didn’t tell you was that of all the butts I spanked, yours definitely was the prettiest. And when the chances of getting another sitter to con disappeared, I wasn’t that disappointed because I kept thinking that I really wasn’t interested in spanking anyone else. All I hoped for was another chance with you…..and now…..here you are.”

Fran’s intensive training in the game she so loved began that very day and continued throughout the summer. Erica made her run drills and taught her all the ways a player could impart “English” on the cue ball to help set up the next shot. Any error was punished with hard application of Erica’s special paddle to her pupil’s unprotected behind since each session began with Fran stripping bare for her training. Each lesson concluded with the student spending a half hour at her teacher’s feet. By late August Fran had progressed from a decent casual player to one with knowledge, skill, and unflappable calm. Her “final exam” from Erica had consisted of various difficult shots from banks to slices on balls butted against rails. The hardest test was executing a delicate, table-long kiss shot while being furiously paddled. But Fran merely let her bottom absorb the blistering impacts while focusing Zen-like on a smooth stroke thereby passing Erica’s challenge.

Her ‘graduation gift’ from Erica consisted of a symbolic treat of lemon ice at Rita’s, followed by one of the longest, but provocatively sensual spankings Fran had ever received. Her eyes were already teary when, after she was let up, Erica presented her with a two-piece, Lucasi cue stick. Fran’s jaw fell open causing Erica to blush and admit, “look, don’t get all crazy, it’s one of their cheaper ones, but…. it is still a Lucasi.”

The intense and strange training that summer had produced a fine player while solidifying an unusual friendship. And before school resumed in September, Fran had not only mastered her game, but had memorized the shape of every one of Erica’s toes, every nuance of nail and cuticle, and every subtle shift of skin type from soft instep to polished ball and heel. When spanked, she obediently endured whatever punishment Erica inflicted without a single complaint admiring her young teacher’s strictness and even looking forward to her discipline. Sometimes, when her spanking was over, Fran would just remain contentedly still across Erica’s lap. She found she liked being there. What once felt ungainly now felt right. She even liked to think that laying there like that, lap to lap, red bottom on display, demonstrated her appreciation to the young disciplinarian who had confessed her fondness for her posterior by providing herself as a sort of visual treat. And while their fondness for each other remained innocently confined to the limited terms of their agreement that summer, it did not remain so in the years to come. Fran learned that there was something deep within her that Erica understood better than anyone. A love of pool was not the only affinity they shared, and the seeds for a different love were already poised to germinate in time. 

In the years to come, any attentive fan of the game might see a serious and deadly calm newcomer rise through the ranks in Vegas or Atlantic City. She would be come to be known as Fran Durbin, “the Ice Queen”. What very few would know, however, was that underneath that impeccable black pants suit glowed a pair of pink and stinging butt-cheeks, courtesy of a unique, pre-tournament calming technique employed by her coach and lover, Erica Smithson. She too could always be seen in attendance…….that young brunette in the audience whose face radiated love and pride……watching every shot with a paddle hidden in her handbag.

--the end

The Delta Tau Solution

It had been a full year that Melanie had been away at Duke, with only occasional visits home on holiday breaks and the odd weekend. Katie thought for sure she would be home for spring break but her sister had opted instead to spend that time in Florida with some of her old high school friends. Katie missed her sister and sulked about her room thinking how much emptier the entire house felt without her. She thumbed through some old magazines then made her way over to the television, now so uncharacteristically silent. Alongside the monitor sat Melanie’s Wii, and beneath it a collection of games. One in particular caught Katie’s attention: Just Dance. A smile spread across her face as she tilted her head back with a sigh of nostalgia. At the height of its popularity that game was an incessant soundtrack through the now somber house, and probably through most houses containing a teenaged girl. However, it was impossible for Katie to even look at that game without thinking of one particular party just prior to Melanie’s graduation from high school. It was not surprising that party had imprinted its details so clearly in Katie’s memory since it forever changed the way one particular group of people all regarded one another for a long time thereafter.

Just before prom Melanie had decided to have one of her ‘girls’ night’ parties while their parents were away. Katie, being the oldest was ostensibly left in charge, though at 22 she had no real interest in being in the midst of the cackling chaos that inevitably ensued. Still, Katie was always grateful that her sister, though occasionally rambunctious, was not a troublemaker. She didn’t need to be overly concerned about any of her gang sneaking into their parents’ liquor cabinet. The only aggravation was the noise....and good old “Just Dance” certainly boosted the decibel levels. Katie sat on her sister’s bed and recalled that party in detail.

-----------------

Counting Melanie, there were six girls jammed into one room, Deidre, Melanie’s best friend since Kindergarten, the blonde twins, Kim and Taylor, tiny Sidra, and the newest addition to the established gang, Sasha. Sasha had been in various dance companies since she could walk and naturally found “Just Dance” to be a rather simplistic game, something Katie herself could relate to. Katie had been doing some online browsing on her laptop when she heard the usual raucous from her sister’s room escalate into what sounded like a full-fledged war. Yelling “knock it off” through the wall worked for about 30 seconds before the riot resumed. Annoyed at the disruption, she got up and stormed into her sister’s room.

“What the hell is going on in here?” she demanded.

The group of girls stared back red-faced and sweaty saying nothing until Sasha spoke up. 

“They are mad that I keep winning their stupid dance game,” she explained aloofly. But as soon as she spoke, the accusations began to fly.

“That’s not it! She’s cheating!” Deidre accused.

“I am not!” Sasha countered angrily.

“Yes she is,” Taylor and Kim chorused.

“She keeps bumping into us and we lose points,” Sidra explained.

“I’m just doing the moves and this room is not exactly an auditorium,” Sasha defended.

“You’re doing it on purpose just to win” Melanie accused.

Katie shook her head. “Girls, it’s just a stupid dance game. Who cares who wins?”

“We care because of the pictures!” Sidra blurted without thinking as the other girls all looked at her as if she had just leaked Top Secret files to the press. Katie saw the reaction and immediately knew something larger than the pride of winning a Wii game was at stake here.

“What pictures?” she asked sternly to a roomful of suddenly silent statues. “I said, ‘what pictures?’” she looked directly at Sidra, but the girl having realized her blunder remained silent with downcast head. Katie rolled her eyes in frustration. “OK, girls, here’s the deal: someone either tells me about these pictures, or the party’s over and you can all go home. And I’m not kidding, as I’m sure my sister knows.”

Melanie stepped forward and with a sigh explained that they had all agreed to play for ‘truth or dare’ type stakes where the winner of each contest could take a cellphone snapshot of the loser doing whatever humiliating thing they told them to do. Sasha had won every match and now had a phone full of embarrassing snapshots of every one of them, all involving some degree of nudity. Turning to Sasha with a frown Katie asked her bluntly about her intentions with the pictures.

“I wasn’t going to do anything with them, but since I’ve been accused of cheating and treated like a criminal by my so-called friends, maybe I’ll post them all on Facebook,” the girl snapped sarcastically.

“I want you to delete them,” Katie replied.

Sasha refused firmly. “I won them fair and square. Those were the stakes we all agreed to. No one was forced into this.” 

“Well maybe this party is at an end then,” Katie threatened. 

But Sidra spoke once more, “please, Katie, it’s true we are all upset about the pictures now. My parents would kill me if they saw the one Sasha has of me, but Sasha is right about what she said. We would have acted just the same as her if we had won, but what bothers us is that we all feel we lost because of how she played. Yes we are embarrassed about the pictures but angry that she got them by cheating.”

Katie looked accusingly at Sasha, “you know when I was in Delta Tau, we had a remedy for anyone caught cheating. The cheater would be bent over a sofa arm with her bare bottom on display and all of the other girls would take turns teaching her a lesson with a rather nasty sorority paddle. Maybe 10 good swats from everyone here would be a good penalty for a cheater as well? I still have my paddle hanging right on my bedroom wall.”

Sasha looked coolly at her and replied, “that penalty sounds fine to me………for a cheater. The only problem is: …………I ………didn’t………… cheat!”

Katie looked deeply into Sasha’s defiant eyes and began to wonder if perhaps the adamant girl was telling the truth. She had been a dancer as well and knew that you trained hard to make your moves large and energetic. None of the other girls were accustomed to that level of intensity when dancing and perhaps they just felt frustrated. Maybe the match-up between a trained dancer and a group of amateurs who just liked dancing didn’t leave the other girls much of a chance and it didn’t seem likely that someone who had been dancing since pre-school would have to cheat to out-dance them. But Sasha’s dancing was no secret and they all agreed to the challenge. The problem now was what to do about those pictures. She thought a bit about the situation while watching the worry and hope in the other girls’ faces and the angry defiance in Sasha’s. It was then that Katie had an idea.

“Sasha, suppose you and I have a ‘dance off’? Best three out of five. The other girls pick the songs. If there is any cheating, which I doubt there will be, it will result in the penalty I just described. If you win you can take an embarrassing snapshot of me to add to your collection, but if you lose you delete the ones you have. What do you say?”

Sasha smirked at the offer. “Deal,” she replied with a nodding approval of the terms.

The girls became excited at the challenge and hoped their savior could save their pride. They eagerly picked the songs they felt would be best suited to Katie and eagerly anticipated the outcome. The contest began with the pressing of a start button and the two combatants were off in a frenzy of flamboyant gyration. The scores remained very close throughout. Sasha won the first dance as Katie was still getting used to the game but Katie came back to win the second. The third went to Sasha who now only needed one more to win the contest. However, much to Sasha’s surprise and the delight of the room of girls, Katie managed to draw on her past experience to win the final two dances in a row even if only by a few points. Each contestant however, acknowledged that the other had danced fairly and competitively. To the cheers of the room Katie watched as Sasha deleted each picture from her phone.

As the two caught their breath, Sasha turned to Katie, “that was pretty close.” Katie nodded admitting that it was. “How do you feel about a rematch?” Sasha suggested.

Katie made a wry face of evasion prompting Sasha to blurt out her terms. “Oh come on. Same rules, and if I win I get that snapshot of you that you offered before.”

“And if you lose? What then?” Katie inquired. “The pictures have all been deleted. What could you possibly offer? I certainly don’t want some snapshot of your butt or boobies in my phone.”

“But they would!” Sasha eyed up her friends and surveyed their faces. “Since my dear friends here all think I’m some horrible, nasty monster who would cheat just so I could embarrass them all, how about if I lose, I’ll agree to let each of them take their own snapshot of me doing whatever they say? That’s five different poses on five different phones against your one on mine.”

Upon hearing this, the girls cackled with excitement chanting, “yes! Yes! Please, Katie, go for it! You can do it!”

Hearing them all cheer her on gave her an ego-boosting, heroic rush. So, buoyed by the accolades, she agreed once again to be their champion so they could have their silly revenge on Sasha, who seemed quite eager to risk her modesty for a picture of her. The songs were chosen and the two again proceeded to compete to the cheering of the others. Katie was now really getting into the rhythm of the game and found this round to be easier and more predictable. She handily won the first dance by quite a few points. The next dance was closer but Katie won that one as well. As the pair took a breather before resuming the girls began to tease Sasha.

Kim spoke first saying that seeing her lose would be sweet revenge but having her pose for her cellphone would be even sweeter. Her sister, Taylor joined in evilly pondering aloud what she might have Sasha do in her picture, though she seemed stumped on an actual idea.

“I know, I know,” Melanie offered excitedly, “since she’s so darned flexible, why not have her spread her legs and bend way over with a sign that says, ‘I’ve been a real....’ with an arrow pointing you-know-where!”

Everyone laughed at the suggestion as Sasha blushed worriedly.

“Knock it off you girls!” Katie warned realizing that Sidra’s earlier comment had been right on the money. These girls were just as eager to embarrass their friend as she had been with them. “Don’t listen to them,” she said to Sasha.

Sasha replied, “look, I know you need just one more win, but don’t think I’m going to cheat to do it. If I lose, I lose. I’m not afraid of them or their ideas.”

“I truly doubt you would cheat, and I don’t think you did before. Just do your best. It’s not over yet,” Katie encouraged her opponent in a tone that made Sasha scrunch her brow in confusion. The girl looked into Katie’s face briefly, searching for whether her opponent was being sincere, employing some strange mind-game tactic to throw her off, or something else.

The game resumed and the dancing began just as energetically with the score remaining close until Katie intentionally slowed her pace and Sasha pulled ahead at the very end and won. In the next game, Katie employed the same strategy and held back pretending she was getting winded. Now tied, the last dance began with Sasha feeling she could indeed still win this, a feeling that grew as Katie’s score fell behind substantially after she reversed a move and received no points for it. When that move repeated later, she reversed it again and Sasha pulled ahead decisively just as the final seconds ticked off the screen. Sasha had come from way behind to win as the room groaned in disappointment.

“Well you won,” Katie admitted panting with sweat. 

“It would appear so,” Sasha conceded suspiciously, “but I didn’t win honestly.”

“You cheated?” her friends asked in near unison.

“You all heard her. Get your paddle, Katie,” Kim declared eagerly, “cheaters must pay the price, right girls?”

The crowd all assented and squealed and clapped at the prospect of roasting their friend’s behind.

“OK, Sasha, let’s go! You admitted to cheating so let’s get those bottoms off and get ready to have your ass beat but good,” Melanie ordered.

But Sasha remained calm and said, “I didn’t say I cheated,” then paused and looked over at her panting opponent, adding, “Katie did.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. She lost, and we didn’t see her cheat,” Melanie argued.

“I did. As a dancer I can tell, but she didn’t cheat to win. She threw the game. She lost on purpose. Don’t ask me why.”

The room stood with their mouths agape as Katie looked over at Sasha and bowed her head with a flush of embarrassment. She never thought her ruse would be noticed. She just didn’t like the way the other girls were tormenting Sasha and figured it was worth one stupid picture to save the girl from having five embarrassing snapshots of herself in the hands of her gleefully vindictive friends.

“I don’t believe it. You’re just saying that,” Melanie snapped defensively.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Sasha suggested with placid certainty.

Sidra very gently approached Katie and looking up into her eyes asked, “is it true?” All Katie could do was nod in assent. “But why?”

“I had my reasons,” she responded.

“Well, that doesn’t count, you can’t punish someone for cheating to lose,” Deidre rationalized.

“What about those people who get caught throwing a fight or horse race, or ball game? That’s always a big scandal,” Kim responded.

But Melanie rose to defend her sister. “Yeah but that cheating is bad because people profit from it. Katie didn’t get anything out of losing. In fact she now has to let Sasha photograph her.”

But it was Sidra again who spoke in a slow, hesitant explanation, “cheating is cheating, ladies. I hate to say it, but it’s only fair that Katie suffer the penalty she herself suggested. We were all very eager to punish Sasha when we thought it was her. How can we just say ‘forget about it’ just because it’s Katie?”

It was then up to Katie to speak. “It doesn’t matter why I did it. Sasha and Sidra are both right. I did cheat and therefore I do technically deserve to suffer the penalty we all agreed to. I would have insisted on it if it had been Sasha.... just as you all would have. And don’t forget, if it wasn’t for me throwing the game, you’d all have gotten to have your revenge on Sasha, and now you won’t. Think about that little fact while I take a shower. Remember you all, I’m a big girl, I knew what I was doing and I’m willing to accept my punishment for it..... but not as a sweaty mess. Melanie, you know where my paddle is. Go get it. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Katie went off for her shower shaking her head at the irony of the recent events. She had stepped in to quell a riot. She managed to spare a bunch of graduating senior girls the embarrassment of having revealing snapshots of themselves circulated around the school. She dispelled the accusations of Sasha cheating, and intentionally prevented her suffering embarrassing exposure at the hands of her friends by losing to her on purpose and now she was going to be subject not only to that same embarrassment but also a very painful penalty she herself suggested. Truly, no good deed goes unpunished. Still, she figured her willingness to take her punishment might be a good example for the others about accepting responsibility for one’s actions. 

As she showered however, her resolve to submit to the group’s punishment began to falter as she began to think not in general theoretical terms, but in terms of what very soon would actually happen to her. There were six girls in that bedroom all waiting for her. One was her own kid sister and the others were all people she knew to some degree. All of them were four to five years younger than her. Not one was old enough to drink. Heck, Sidra only got her driver’s license last month and could barely see over the dash. She ran the roster through her head now picturing herself at the mercy of each one individually rather than just seeing them as a homogenous group. After all, that is how she would be punished, not 60 swats from a nameless collective, but 10 swats apiece from six very real and different people. She thought of each one in turn.

Of course, there was her sister, Melanie. Katie could not help but appreciate the kick she would get on having the upper hand for once...and what an upper hand. Katie may have bossed her kid sister around over the years and teased her on occasion. She even played a few pretty cruel practical jokes on her, but she sure never had punished her in any way. Now despite all of her education and maturity, she would be presented to her sister in a manner so flagrant and vulnerable that neither her degree nor her extra years on the planet would help her in any way. Still, Melanie was her sister, and not a mean person. Despite being older, Katie felt oddly comfortable with Melanie spanking her. Perhaps it was just a way of evening out any old issues from their past or maybe it was just about trusting one’s own family to be fair. 

Then she thought of Deidre, Melanie’s long-time friend and remembered her as a mere child. She had taken the pair places when she got her license and they were only 12. Katie always felt as though Deidre looked up to her in a way, as a sort of big sister. She wondered if ten hard smacks could forever change the way they regarded each other. Would Deidre still respect her once she had suffered the indignity of a paddling gauntlet....especially if she herself was one of the spankers? Still, getting spanked by Melanie or Deidre didn’t seem so bad when she considered the twins.

There was Kim: brash, loud, and immature. Not a bad person, but not someone she held in high regard, and her vain, shopaholic sister, Taylor was even worse. Cute as a stuffed animal and almost as intelligent, it would probably take her a minute or two to figure which end of the paddle to hold. And yet, once she figured it out, Taylor wouldn’t need a high I.Q. to have Katie begging for mercy. That image was mortifying. She imagined the indignity of losing her composure while that giggling fluff-brain just blithely slammed that paddle into her jumping butt. She tried not to think about the twins anymore and shifted to Sidra.

Being from a different country but yet surrounded and influenced by American culture, Sidra was an experiment in sociology for Katie. She truly wondered what the girl would do once she held the paddle. Passive and shy on one hand, Sidra was also the one who advocated punishment when the others seemed reluctant. She was probably also the smartest and youngest of the clan and certainly the smallest, being a full foot shorter than her, and though 17 she looked 14 at best. However, Katie knew from her sorority days that even a frail girl could inflict a lot of sting if she chose to. The question was ‘would Sidra choose to?’ Either way, for some reason, while being spanked by the twins seemed humiliating because of how Katie regarded them, there was something about getting spanked by Sidra that prompted a red-faced flush whenever she thought about it. It wasn’t because of her age or diminutive stature though. Picturing the girl, Katie suddenly figured out what it was. Though polite, Sidra’s reserved calm seemed somehow ....aloof. That was it. Though the girl would never come out and say it, somehow she appeared to regard herself as a station or two above those around her. That’s what was embarrassing about being spanked by her. While the others might spank her with ‘that’s what you get’-fairness or even ‘better you than me’-glee, Sidra might well be thinking that it was only proper for Katie to be punished by someone of Sidra’s status. The others might enjoy the temporary opportunity to have the upper hand over someone older, but Sidra would see herself as naturally having always had the upper hand, with this spanking being the simple proof of it. The worst part was when Katie tried to imagine herself and Sidra in any sort of disciplinary scenario, she honestly couldn’t picture their roles being any different. It was as if something deep inside Katie recognized Sidra’s unspoken birthright of superiority as disturbingly genuine.

Then finally there was Sasha the toughie. To Katie, if there was anyone in that room she could picture being truly comfortable with a paddle in hand, it was Sasha. It would not surprise her if that girl hadn’t already spanked someone at some time. Dancer or not, she was no girlie-girl. As Katie thought about the lean, toned, spitfire with a dancer’s muscled behind, she had a revelation. Could Sasha be a Lesbian? She couldn’t be sure, but the more she thought about it, the more she recalled some circumstantial clues. Perhaps that was why the girl wanted the revealing pictures of the others and of her. Not to blackmail or send to others, but for her own….’enjoyment’. Katie now wondered what thoughts would be sailing through that girl’s head once she was bent over bare for her.

After running through the line-up, Katie realized she had put herself in a position much more complicated than some basic exercise in ethics. She showered off the sweat and re-emerged refreshed and ready to suffer the consequences, though with a lot more personal attachment to her plight than before.

Upon entering the room, Katie also noticed that the atmosphere had shifted dramatically in her brief absence. The solemn shock over the turn of events had worn off and the girls no longer seemed reluctant about what was to transpire. In fact, despite the previous division of opinion, they all now seemed uniformly happy about it, especially her own sister who now took charge of the proceedings. Hearing Katie enter, Melanie turned, “oh there’s the big cheater. About time.”

“I’m here as promised. Did you ladies all talk this out? It was pretty quiet and divided in here when I left,” Katie replied with a tilt of her head.

“We did talk it over when you were gone,” Melanie explained, “and we are all pretty much in agreement that it’s only fair that you be punished for cheating, even if you cheated to lose. We also said that even if you threw the game, Sasha still won by virtue of your disqualification for cheating. So after we are all done...you still owe her that snapshot. So, if you are ready..... Deidre, will you pile a couple of pillows on the end of the bed for my sister to bend over?”

Deidre jumped to the task cheerfully and Katie shed her robe and obligingly bent over them. Initially she felt a wave of shame at being naked in front of all these young girls, even if they were all female. It wasn’t about common gender. This was not some changing room with everyone in some state of common undress during some competition or recital. That she was certainly used to. Here she was the only one naked, and not because she was merely changing costumes. She was the ‘naughty girl’ about to get it.

“Now girls,” Melanie began as her sister nestled into place, “we all agreed on what needs to be done here. I know Katie is my sister and she’s older than us but she admitted her guilt and has to take her paddling no different than if it had been any of us. Remember, this is a punishment. It won’t do Katie any good if you approach this like it was her birthday and she was getting her birthday whacks for luck. Spank her like you mean it, and if any of you aren’t sure what that means, please observe as I will go first to demonstrate. Before we begin, do you have anything to say, Katie?”

“No, Melanie, I think you covered it pretty well.”

“So are you prepared to be properly spanked?” Melanie asked with a slight twinge of gleeful malice.

“Yes, I am.”

Melanie aligned herself to her sister’s bent bottom and measured out the proper distance for a swing to cover both cheeks at once. The paddle was certainly long enough for such application and its handle lengthy enough to be held comfortably with both hands. “Here we go,” the eager sibling warned as she cocked back and swung hard. The paddle landed with an explosive ‘splat’ causing a jelly-like wobble across the ample bottom as Katie gasped aloud. Melanie then repeated the process nine more times, each time with vigor, before calling Deidre over and handing the paddle to her.

Deidre had known Katie for years but did not hesitate to deliver ten fierce swats before handing the paddle off to Kim. Thus it followed down the line, Taylor next, then Sasha, and finally shy, peaceful Sidra. Katie had wondered how this reserved young Indian girl was going to act once it was her turn, but having considered the girl’s sense of natural superiority, she was not at all shocked when Sidra delivered her ten with just as much force and enthusiasm as her colleagues.

After sixty hard swats, Katie’s bottom was understandably sore, but she chalked it up to experience and, as she stood up, good-naturedly complimented the group on their spanking proficiency. “You all would make fine Deltas,” she joked rubbing her bottom as she motioned for her sister to hand over her robe. 

Melanie’s eyes sort of went a bit wide with a ‘what do you mean’ expression as she walked over to her sister and whispered, “Katie, it’s fine if you want a stretch but you need to get back into place, we aren’t done.”

“What do you mean?" she asked.

“We are taking this very seriously, sis. Ten swats from each of us for cheating, but according to Sasha, you cheated twice. You still have another round coming.”

“You mean you all decided that it’s one punishment for each instance of cheating?” Katie asked worriedly. All of the girls nodded in assent. Katie looked over at her sister with a suspicious squint. “I suppose you suggested that?” 

“Actually, sis, it was Sidra. I was the one dissenting vote,” Melanie shrugged. “I thought one round was enough, but the majority rules you know.”

Katie turned to the young Indian girl who very calmly explained that to her mind, each time Katie did something specific to throw the game she was making another separate and willful decision to cheat. Since Sasha noticed two instances there would have to be two separate punishments.

Katie rolled her eyes and asked, “and what if Sasha missed one? What then?”

Sidra blinked innocently as if the answer was obvious, “then there would have to be another round of punishment for that instance as well. ”

“Why? How many instances were there really?” Melanie asked.

Katie held up four fingers as she pursed her lip, cocked her head to one side, and put a hand to her bare hip. Initially everyone was quiet as they saw Katie’s expression of resigned defeat. She didn’t utter a word but her face clearly said: ‘you got me……and I am so screwed’. Katie just looked at her sister as she twisted her mouth on one side, “looks like I’m in for one heck of an evening.” All of the girls could not help but laugh at the remark and Katie’s reluctant acceptance of her fate.

Obediently she resumed her place at the foot of the bed and waited. Like a train carrying punishment, each girl became a car that passed Katie’s waiting station to deliver their load of spanks before circling the track again. For whatever reason, not one girl, including Melanie who had voted against the multiple punishments, ever eased on their punitive responsibilities and long before the last paddle-swat landed, Katie was a teary, butt-sore penitent issuing frantic apologies to unsympathetic ears. Each swat triggered a high-pitched yip and, either a lengthy clench resulting in a pair of tightly-bunched buttocks, or a twisting shift of weight from leg to leg that splayed the throbbing mounds to shamelessly reveal all that resided between them. 

As she laid there panting with her bottom quivering involuntarily, she heard a crinkle of paper and saw Sasha approach from behind. 

“One more thing, I’m afraid: our bet.”

Katie nodded, “what do you want me to do, hon?”

“Pretty simple, really. Just stand by the wall with your butt facing me and look at the camera over your shoulder while holding this behind your back. Just don’t cover your bottom with it. Hold it above it at your lower back, OK?”

Katie had to laugh when she saw the sign. In black marker Sasha had printed: ‘Cheaters never prosper’. “Fair enough. Oh and shall I pout or smile?” Katie asked playfully.

Sasha laughed at the question then replied, “ oh, pout.....definitely.”

Once the picture had been taken and shared with the group, Melanie handed her red-bottomed sister her robe. “You want to hang with us?” she asked hopefully.

But Katie just smiled and shook her head. “No sis, I’ve had enough excitement for one evening. I’m going to bed. Besides, I believe it’s customary after a spanking for bad girls to be sent to their rooms?”

The group all exchanged their ‘goodnights’ with the chaperone-turned-victim, exchanging friendly hugs before Katie turned slowly and shuffled achingly to her room.

---------------------------------------

Katie was resting on her bed listening to the chatter next door, assuming a good bit of the giggling was at her expense, when a tap came at her door.

“Come in,” she responded curiously, only to see Sasha enter with a squirt bottle of body lotion in hand. 

“Peace offering?” the girl suggested shyly as she tentatively held up the bottle.

Katie smiled at the gesture and the awkwardness of the offer. The little toughie didn’t seem so tough now. “Sure,” Katie replied reaching out for the lotion.

“Um, mind if I......?” Sasha volunteered with hopeful eyes.

Katie smiled realizing her earlier speculations on Sasha’s proclivities were probably true. She thought about whether she should accept or if it would be sending the wrong message. But seeing the girl’s puppy-dog expression Katie just nodded and watched her visitor break into a smile. Katie rolled over as Sasha approached and sat beside her on the bed. Tentatively the girl raised the back of Katie’s robe exposing the chastised bottom-cheeks.

“Wow, you really got it from us, huh?” Sasha breathed in a combination of awe and sympathy as she gingerly explored the damage, amazed at the leathery warmth her fingers discovered.

“You could say that.”

“Does it hurt?” Sasha asked.

“You could say that as well,” Katie quipped.

“Well maybe this will help,” the girl offered as she pumped out a long, cold noodle of cream onto each burning cheek. Then, ever so gently she massaged the cooling lotion into each swollen bun. “Better?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, thanks,” Katie winced. Even Sasha’s delicate ministrations stung.

After a slight stretch of quiet rubbing, Sasha said, “I’m sorry about mentioning the cheating. I never thought it would have resulted in something like this.”

“It’s OK, Sasha,” Katie acknowledged, then continued in a more playful tone, “but you didn’t seem to mind that much when you had that paddle in your hands.”

Sasha laughed at the accurate observation, “OK,” she admitted with a chuckle, “yeah, you’re right. I have to confess, even though one part of me felt a bit sorry for you, another part enjoyed paddling you. I was pretty pissed that you made me delete those pictures. But now seeing your butt all swollen and red like this, I feel bad again.”

“Don’t be. You did what you were supposed to do.”

“Well, I also wanted to say that if you want, I’ll also delete the picture of you.”

Katie rolled over and looked Sasha in the eye. “If I let you keep it, will you share it or keep it to yourself?”

“Other than the girls already seeing it, I will keep it for myself. I’ll even transfer it from my phone so it won’t be seen by accident.”

“Then keep it as your trophy and souvenir.”

“Thanks,” Sasha blushed adding, “um, if you’re feeling better I guess I’ll head back to the party now.”

“Go have fun,” Katie smiled, “and thanks for the lotion,” she added as Sasha made her way to the door, prompting the girl to give her a cute smile over her shoulder as she exited.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, reminiscing a year later, Katie also recalled how after that night, she had become progressively more curious about what might have been said during her shower that turned that divided roomful of squabbling young ladies into a cohesive pack of gleefully determined disciplinarians. About two weeks after the incident, she recalled being so consumed with curiosity that she forced down any self-conscious hesitation and just put the question directly to her sister figuring that Melanie, having had the most drastic change of heart, would be able to reveal what happened to so thoroughly change her thinking along with Deidre and Sasha. 

When asked, Melanie had simply admitted that it had been Sidra who persuaded them to see that carrying out the punishment was the proper thing to do. Sidra had also pointed out that she felt that Katie seemed to exude a need for discipline and that it would be beneficial for her to be held accountable. Melanie added that in the middle of Sidra’s logical explanation, both Kim and Taylor just blurted that “besides all that, having the chance to really paddle someone will be fun.”

Melanie smiled in recollection when she told her sister that when Sidra heard the twins’ comic interjection, rather than chide them, she had grinned and admitted, “and that is another good reason.”

Sidra had obviously been dually persuasive since the girls certainly seemed to take her punishment both seriously and with a sense of amusement. Even after that day, Melanie’s gang sort of unofficially adopted Katie’s ‘Delta Tau Penalty’ as the understood consequence for cheating. During that summer vacation they even saw fit to employ the punishment again when Kim and Taylor conspired to sneak each other cards during a game of 500 Rummy and were caught. Katie recalled with a smirk how Melanie had knocked on her door that day to borrow her paddle. Once told the reason, Katie, recalling the girls’ comment, mischievously agreed to lend it out…………provided she too could join in. Melanie had agreed instantly saying that with two of their gang being punished there would have been only four disciplinarians. Now Katie would make it five and each cheater would get an even 50 swats. Even now, Katie chuckled to herself recalling the satisfying sight of the two twin ditzes squealing and hopping about while being paddled side-by-side.

After that no one else ever dared cheat at anything and Melanie’s circle went on as always. However, as in all lives, with graduation came some changes. Eventually Sasha came out as a Lesbian, hooked up with a girl from across town, and slowly drifted away from Melanie’s circle. Katie still speculated to what prurient use her picture had been put to since that day and if Sasha had ever truly figured out her reason for throwing their contest.

Deidre and Melanie remained inseparable with Deidre even attending the same college. Ensuing disputes over boys, school, music, or any other fleeting topic, could never divide them for more than a day. 

The twins were now attending a community college and were going to join Deidre and Melanie in Florida.

Lastly, Sidra was excelling at her studies in Biology at the local college not wishing to live away from home. 

Katie looked at her watch. 3:25, Sidra would be just finishing for the day. Katie took out her phone and quickly texted:

“hi, know you wanted me to finish your taxes by today but got distracted sorry”

A few nervous minutes later, Katie’s phone signaled receipt of a reply:“you promised me. what happened?”

Katie replied “nothing bad just lost track of time”

Sidra’s next texts were brief yet spoke volumes: “very disappointed. leaving here soon. wait for me”  then right after, “you know better”

Katie read the texts with a flushing face as she left her sister’s room and her reminiscences and strode down to the front door and unlocked it before heading to her own room. There she resolutely placed both her pillows atop each other on the center of her bed, unhooked her sorority paddle and placed it at the foot of the bed, stripped off her clothes, and flopped herself over her fluffy, pillow mountain. There she waited listening for the inevitable sound of the front door being opened and light but determined footsteps on the stairs and thought that a lot indeed had changed since that day a year ago. Maybe her paddle had only been used one other time by the group on the cheating twins, but it certainly wasn’t idle after that.

A few weeks after the spanking for cheating, Katie began to have strange thoughts. She couldn’t explain why, but she found herself drawn to the thought of being punished again. However, Katie still felt the same mix of feelings with regard to the girls in Melanie’s circle. Simply cheating at some game and getting paddled by the entire group did not hold any appeal, but the idea of being accountable to perhaps one person and suffering punishments solely at their hands intrigued her. And for Katie, there was only one person to whom she felt truly subordinate: Sidra. Having always been guilty of procrastination and loss of direction, Katie had found in Sidra someone who would, without guilt or eroticism, impose strict but fair discipline to keep her focused. When Katie had boldly approached her with her thoughts, Sidra reacted as if Katie had finally understood and accepted their inescapable roles. Sidra set up a basic arrangement of obedient service in exchange for discipline and direction. When warranted, she simply spanked the older, larger woman with the determined conviction of someone who truly believed in her inherent right to do so. Ever fair, every spanking she delivered was deserved and, ever strict, every single one had left Katie in tears. 

Sidra not only believed in spanking hard, but enjoyed doing it. She had told Katie right from the start what to expect if she disobeyed and she was faithful to her warning. Katie recalled the first time Sidra chose to punish her and how she blushed in shame while her diminutive, young superior scolded her, exuding calm authority through those intense brown eyes. Guilty and humbled, Katie trembled nervously as the petite disciplinarian calmly explained her intent to paddle the misbehaving woman-child until her posterior was raw. Then Sidra, beaming with satisfaction, did just that. Today would be no different. Katie shivered a bit at the thought. There really wasn’t a way out. She was guilty and would soon pay the price because Sidra was coming over very soon and she didn’t seem pleased. There would be no easy way to sit tonight, Katie thought as she once more recalled the party and that one fateful punishment for cheating that had opened a door to ongoing accountability and a series of punishments all delivered with that very same Delta Tau paddle.

----------the end