We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Program

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Hi!

It’s me, your friendly neighbor spanko. I wanted to share something exciting! I’ve decided to start a story account with patreon.

You can find that here.

My current plan is to offer early access to patrons, as well as additional mini-stories in addition to my regular posts.  All of these will eventually be public, but I don’t have a timeline for when.  Half of them feature Paul and Edith, two regular characters. The other half are completely random people and circumstances. All of them are exactly 200 words. There is, in fact, a full length Paul and Edith story waiting for you there right now!

I fully support people charging for their work, but for now I think this is the best option for me. If I can get enough support, I can prioritize writing more, which means I can continue putting out quality stories involving TTWD, as well as listen to readers more and explore some ideas and requests you have for the blog.

SO. If you have enjoyed what I’m doing here and would like to contribute, please check out my page and think about subscribing. I sure would appreciate it.

And stay tuned for a mini-story preview!

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State Fair

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Well you have finally done it. I don’t know what possessed you, but you went and found my very last nerve. Right before the young man behind the counter starts to scoop your ice cream into the cone.

“Wait! Never mind, sorry, I need to cancel the order. We’re going to have a spanking instead.”

Your mouth falls into a perfect circle as you gasp, but I have had it. The college kid behind the counter doesn’t seem phased at all; I think he might even approve. Of course, he saw the way you were acting in line. If he knew you had been acting this way all day, he might even have applauded.

As it is, he grabs the five I throw on the counter for his trouble and nods his thanks, then moves on to the next customers. I grab your forearm and move on to my new task: finding a place to deliver on this spanking.

“Wait,” you hiss, resisting my tugging a bit as we exit the shop and the shock wears off, “you can’t–”

I stop, transferring your captured arm into my left hand and then planting five hard swats on your bottom, even as you try to hop away. Your yelp attracts more attention than anything, but by the time most people have turned in our direction, I am already in your ear.

“If you didn’t want a spanking, you should have behaved yourself. This was supposed to be a nice day at the fair, but you have been a brat since we got here and it’s past time I did something about it. Now, you can walk with me to the restroom, or I can put you over my knee at the next available bench.”

I step back to look at your face; your mouth is a hard line and you don’t respond. Good enough. I’d rather you say nothing than get yourself in more trouble with a smart response. In no time we are in the large family stall; by some miracle we have caught it right after the midday cleaning and with no one in line. I lock the door and hang my backpack on the hook, then dig around for my hairbrush. It was an afterthought as I grabbed us waters and sunscreen. I sure am glad to have it right now.

“Turn around and grab the bar,” I tell you, gesturing at the wall.

“You don’t have to…” you say, voice trailing as your eyes find the implement. I finally see a hint of remorse in your eye, but it only irritates me further and your hesitation inspires me to skip ahead.

“Actually, go ahead and take your shorts down. Then grab the bar.”

Your mouth goes hard again and you look affronted; somehow you manage to do as you’re told in a jerky defiant manner that reassures me that I am doing exactly the right thing. When you are bent over, I come up behind you and slide your underwear down in one swift motion. You let out a squeak and reach back to grab them, catching yourself before you quite get them and returning your hand to the bar. It isn’t out of respect for me– you just don’t want me to think you care at all about what I’m going to do.

You are going to care in just a second, though. I encircle your waist with my left arm and then tap the hairbrush on your bare bottom with my free hand. Tap, tap, tap and then splat, and it is the most satisfying sound in the world. It’s only going to take me a couple of minutes to change the entire course of your day. I plant the wooden rectangle over and over again on your bottom, steadying you when you start to wiggle and gasp.

“Don’t you let those hands loose or I’ll spank your thighs, too,” I tell you right before I flick my wrist a little harder. The pop of the brush remains steady and your yelps grow louder. With every passing minute, I spank you harder, until I finally lend all of my concentration to making sure you feel this well into tomorrow. “I’m sorry,” you finally say, twisting your hips back and forth, “Really.  Ow. I am. I’ll behave. Please.”

Your sentences are choppy and punctuated with the many inarticulate noises you make under the falling brush. “You’re damn right you are going to behave. I don’t want any more complaints about the heat or the lines or whatever else you’ve decided is going to ruin your day. You aren’t hotter than anyone else and no one here is skipping the line on roller coasters.” I’m not letting up with the brush as I fuss at you, and your bottom is showing signs of the damage. Good. I hope your attitude is undergoing a similar transformation.

“Please,” you eek out, and I can see sweat marks on the metal where your hands have shifted under your death grip. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry enough to behave yourself when we’re finished here?” I say unsympathetically.

“Yes!” you cry out. Good. That is what I wanted to hear. I deliver a few more blistering swats, then stop and pull your underwear up. The moment they encase your now swollen bottom, you pop up, jumping in place as you desperately try to rub the sting out. I cross my arms, brush still in hand, and watch you dance in place. When you catch my eye, you stop hopping and look sheepish. “I’m sorry,” you say, and I believe you.

“I should hope so,” I say aloud. “I can put this away now?” I ask, gesturing with my hairbrush. You flinch like I’m holding a snake, then nod pitifully. “Pull your shorts up,” I tell you as I turn to put it in my backpack, which I then take down and put on.

When I turn around again, you are just finished buttoning. I open my arms and you shuffle over into the hug. I rub your back during the embrace, but we don’t stay that way for long. I think we have monopolized the bathroom for our fair share of time, and sure enough as we exit, a line has formed. Not one person looks irritated, though. In fact, I watch several of them scan our faces, always landing on you before the sympathy shows. Glancing at your hangdog expression, I suppose it is obvious who did what to whom in there.

“Still want ice cream?” I say, absentmindedly rubbing your back as we meander around the grounds. You nod meekly, and I smile. I should have done this the moment we got here. Next time, I’ll know better. Next time, we both will.

New Car

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The votes have been cast and we have an official ending! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read them both and give me your thoughts, everyone who supports my writing through Patreon (alternate ending still up there, along with bonus mini-stories), and everyone who reads the things I write. It sure is a lot of fun. 💕

Danny whistled as he circled Ben’s new Mustang. “Yours? Officially?” he asked, running an appreciative hand down the hood.

His brother nodded, grinning at Danny’s obvious appreciation for the machine. “They just put it on the lot this morning. I still can’t believe it.”

Emma was more skeptical than her boyfriend: it looked like a pile of junk to her. “Does it actually run?”

”It runs!” Ben said defensively. “The engine was completely overhauled, so all the work is in the body, but Dan and I can do most of that ourselves.”

“And Oliver is as into cars as you two? He wanted this thing?”

“It was under budget for what we talked about,” Ben said, not exactly answering her question. “Practically a steal. And it meets all the legal safety standards.”

“Not us you have to convince,” Danny said, shaking his head as he stood, having finished examining some detail that was unfathomable to Emma but clearly a thing of beauty to the Kendrick brothers. His hands were now in his pockets, his eyes on the car still. “Think he’s going to let you keep it?”

There was a beat of silence and then Ben asked reluctantly, “Do you?”

Emma scoffed and Danny smiled grimly as Ben let his facade drop.  They all knew he had gone rogue with this purchase, and no innocent act was going to fool anyone present.

“Maybe,” Danny answered finally, but Emma just shook her head, not quite so convinced. It went without saying that whether he would be able to keep it or not was secondary to other consequences Ben would soon be facing. There was a rock in his stomach that seemed to be growing.

“Are you going to help me fix it up if he does?” he asked Danny hopefully, trying to stay positive.

“Oh absolutely,” Danny said, as Emma exclaimed at the same time “Of course he isn’t!” This was followed by a shocked, “Danny!”

He shrugged his shoulders, holding his hands up innocently as he looked at his girlfriend. “If he gets to keep it anyway…”

“Alright alright,” she said, but then she looked back at Ben and said “but you know you shouldn’t be allowed to.”

“You just don’t appreciate her like we do!” Ben said, looking so stricken that Emma finally broke and grinned.

“If you say so. Good luck then. You’re gonna need it.”

~   ~   ~

Ben glanced down at his phone for the hundredth time, except this time when he looked back up, there was Oliver, pulling into their apartment complex. Ben stood on the sidewalk, near their one reserved spot, and smiled as his boyfriend got out of the car. Oliver returned it, slipping his keys into his pocket and then putting his arms around Ben’s waist and kissing him. “Well where is it?” he asked.

Ben’s smile tightened as they shifted to stand side by side, and he pointed toward the car, which was nestled among those of their neighbors. He could only stand Oliver’s confused scanning eyes for a moment before he blurted, “It’s the blue one.”

“The blue… oh my god Ben. You didn’t.” Oliver turned from the Mustang to Ben and then back again, eyes wide with disbelief now. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“Surprise?” Ben said weakly. Most of his initial excitement about the purchase had dissipated as six pm had drawn nearer. It hadn’t stopped him from unnecessarily and lovingly detailing the car that afternoon, nor did he find it any less beautiful right now, but…

“Benjamin Ryann Kendrick, tell me you did not buy that heap of metal currently sitting in our parking lot instead of the Accord we looked at last night.”

“So they had sold the Accord right before I got there,” Ben began, using his most persuasive voice. “And they had just gotten this one, like this morning, and it’s the car I’ve wanted since I was a kid! It was just fate, Ollie.”

“Fate?”

“Yes, we were meant to have this car,” Ben said excitedly, latching on to Oliver’s one word response with more enthusiasm than it warranted. “Come on. It’s really not as bad as it looks.”

“Ben…”

“And I know it’s old but it’s up to date as far as safety is concerned. I mean it doesn’t have some of the features we talked about, but…” Ben faltered as Oliver turned away from the car and toward the apartment building. “Wait, don’t you want to see it?”

“No, I do not,” Oliver said firmly, taking a hold of Ben’s bicep and marching him forward. He seemed to have packed away all of his shock for the moment. “I want to see you in the corner.”

“Danny says he’ll help me fix it up, and it’s gonna be beautiful by the end of the summer, you’ll see and you’ll fall in love with it!” Ben said, not resisting but talking as fast as he could as they entered their unit.

“Danny approves of the car?”

Ben flushed, faltering. “Yes? Kinda? He likes the car. He didn’t exactly approve of it but he said if you let me keep it…”

Oliver released Ben’s arm and locked the door behind them, then turned to look into his boyfriend’s hopeful eyes. “Where are you supposed to be?” he said.

Ben sighed, and said “The corner, but Ollie—“

“Then you need to be in the corner. And I wouldn’t be worried about the car right now,” he finished firmly.

Ben opened his mouth, looked at Oliver’s face, and shut it again before walking to the living room corner. He folded his hands neatly behind his back, trying for once to be good about the command. Still, a noise of protest escaped when he felt his shorts and underwear being yanked down a moment later.

“You better enjoy the feeling of a cool bottom while you can, little boy,” Oliver said as he walked back away. “Do not move.”

Ben let his head fall against the corner, but otherwise did his best to obey.

~   ~   ~

It was the longest seventeen minutes of Ben’s life. He struggled to be still, but managed, so long as one viewed him with a squint. He was so desperate to keep his new prize that he barely registered what was going to happen to him when he got out of the corner.

That changed when he was finally called to the couch, where Oliver sat waiting with the hairbrush already in his hand. Ben flushed as he was forced to waddle his way over to him, legs tangled as they were in his nearly-discarded clothing. Oliver didn’t have so much as a hint of sympathy in his eyes, at least not that Ben saw in the seconds before he landed belly-down across his waiting lap.

Oliver adjusted Ben brusquely, then patted the boy’s bare bottom with the business end of the brush. That was all the warning Ben got before Oliver brought the implement down hard on his left cheek, then his right. Ben shrieked, unused to the feeling of wood on a cold bottom. The only effect it had on his predicament was that Oliver seemed to grasp him more firmly around the waist with his left arm.

“Ollie,” Ben said with a gasp, no follow up thoughts planned.

“Don’t you Ollie me, Benjamin Kendrick. I can’t believe you bought that thing. We had a plan. We had done research.”

“Ow, I know,” Ben gasped, legs kicking wildly but staying clear of the hairbrush’s intended target so far. “I’m sorry!”

“You are only sorry because you think you might get away with it, but I am going to show you what actual remorse feels like.”

Ben’s feet drummed against the floor as Oliver continued to spank him. He could feel his boyfriend’s disappointment, and somehow that made it even harder to be still. He knew he deserved it, but every swat was a brutal reprimand of his poor impulse control.

When Ben lost agency of his legs, Oliver secured them. When he could no longer keep his free hand out of the way, Oliver captured it as well. Oliver had used every second of Ben’s corner time to compose himself, and now he spanked his boyfriend with hard, intentional swats.

“I’ll take it back!” Ben eventually shrieked.

“Oh you bet your sore little backside you will take it back,” Oliver replied, laying into the younger man’s sit-spots. “And you will never forgo your good judgement like this again. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, I hear you,” Ben gasped. His bottom ached, and he could feel tears threatening. He didn’t care about the car any more, something he would have believed impossible an hour ago. He only wanted Oliver to stop spanking him.

And then, miraculously, he did.

”We are not finished,” Oliver said sternly above him, before Ben had experienced any true respite. Still, there had been a brief moment of relief and a glance at the other side of this nightmare, and he felt it being taken away just as quickly.

”Yes, sir,” he choked out, throat closing as his eyes welled with tears. Sore and sorry as he was, Ben understood that he had earned this punishment, and he wanted Oliver to know that he knew.

His wrist was released, and then a gentle hand on his back gave him the small reassurance he needed.  “Good,” Oliver said as he also freed Ben’s legs. “I want you to stand up and put your hands on the coffee table.”

Ben shuddered as he brought his hands to his face. He hadn’t been in this much trouble in years, since before he had even met Oliver. He slid to the ground, pausing to look up at his boyfriend as he knelt beside him. Oliver placed a hand on the back of Ben’s neck, kissed his forehead, and then stood.

Ben blinked as a fresh tear rolled down his cheek. Oliver had not looked angry, but he had not looked sympathetic either. He had looked determined. Ben didn’t know what was coming next, but he knew he had better be in position when Oliver came back. Slowly, he stood.

No amount of remorse could keep him from whimpering when he saw Oliver walking back in with the bath brush from their shower in his hand. “Please, Ollie, I’m so sorry, it was a dumb decision, I should have called you, I won’t do it again— ”

“Hands on the table, please.”

Ben, who hadn’t even realized he’d stood up, looked down at his hands as though they had betrayed him. Slowly, large round eyes still focused on his boyfriend, he bent back over. He kept Oliver in his sight until he had walked behind him, then let his head hang. Now he could see his bunched up shorts and underwear around his ankles, and then Oliver’s shins.

Ben shuddered again. He had only experienced the bath brush one other time in his life. It had left an impression.

He felt the tap of the thick wooden implement on his bare bottom, and even that was painful after the hairbrushing he had just received. “Ollie…” he sniffled, but whatever else he was about to say was cut off by a hard swat to the center of his left cheek.

Ben yowled as he danced in place, quick little stomps although his hands remained anchored. Oliver spoke as he prepared to land a similar swat on the boy’s right cheek.

“You cannot make big decisions like that without me.” The brush landed again with a thwack and the accompanying yell.

“And you knew better.” Thwack.

“We are going back to the dealership tomorrow, where you will apologize for all the hassle you are causing, and we will find out what can be done.”

The brush landed again at the tail of his sentence, and then again immediately after. He gave Ben a dozen more swats, lecturing him the entire time, before he finally put down the bath brush. Every one of them was powerful and deliberate, and Ben cried out pitifully every time. He managed to stay in position, but he thought later that might have had more to do with his brain’s inability to process movement than it did his own will.

The moment he was allowed, he collapsed into Oliver’s arms. He abandoned the tangle of his clothes, wanting nothing to touch his freshly spanked and terribly sore bottom. Oliver soothed him quietly, and put them both to bed early that night.

~   ~   ~

“Yours? Officially?” Danny asked, hands on his hips and one eyebrow raised at his little brother.

“Officially,” Ben said, smiling. “Oliver said so this morning.”

Emma looked skeptical as she opened the back door and slid into the driver’s side seat. The top was down, and she looked at Ben as she got settled. “Just like that?”

“Of course not!” Ben said defensively. “He wore me out the moment he got home, and made me take it back. The paperwork was so much of a hassle that he changed his mind.”

“He changed his mind because of paperwork?”

“I think he also fell in love with it when he drove it to the dealership,” Ben said, grinning sheepishly. “He missed the exit on the way there, I bet on purpose. I got lucky that it was a good morning to have the top down.”

“He is a person of refined taste,” Danny said, beaming as if he himself had just gotten a new car. He winked at a Emma, who pantomimed gazing at him over sunglasses from the backseat. “Think we can handle all the repairs?”

There was a beat of silence and then Ben asked reluctantly, “Do you?”

Emma laughed and Danny smiled broadly. He circled the car again, surveying the damage.

“Maybe,” Danny answered finally, but Emma just shook her head, not quite so convinced. They all knew it didn’t matter. The Kendricks were going to love every second of working on this car, and there would always be something to do.

“And he really just let you keep it, after everything yesterday?” Emma asked, having a hard time believing it.

Ben blushed, but answered honestly. “No, he spanked me again when we got home, he said so I didn’t get the impression that this was going to be a regular thing. Getting what I want this way and all. Which I don’t, by the way!” he clarified as Danny gave him a look. “I was ready to give it back. But it was a lot of paperwork and we would have lost money. I have about a million rules and restrictions around it.”

She winced at him sympathetically. “He spanked you again on top of yesterday?”

“Yep, used the hairbrush and everything. Would not recommend,” Ben said. “I’m not sure I will ever sit comfortably in this thing.”

“Well come sit uncomfortably for a minute,” Emma said impishly. “I wanna go for a ride.”

Ben grinned as he dug the keys from his pocket, then looked immediately abashed. “Hold on, I have to text Oliver first.”

Underneath a Magic Moon

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She was at it again.

The man shook his head as he checked his traps, sturdy metal cages that should be full of crabs this time of year. Instead he found seashells and old bottles, little dolls made out of seaweed, and a pretty bit of old coral.

It was harmless enough, but it was just the newest of a long line of small sabotage that had been plaguing him that summer. He often found his lines artfully tangled these days, or things missing or rearranged on his small dock. He had taken to keeping his belongings far from shore, where she couldn’t get to them.

And he felt confident that there was a “she” out there among the waves, causing small headaches for him and others that season. Some said it was a ghost and called holy men and women to bless their nets. Others pretended it was just the strong currents, ignoring the obvious when it bothered their sensibilities.

He knew the work of a mermaid when he saw it, though, and he was growing tired of her tricks. Tired enough that he had asked the Elders for help that very morning, in fact. He felt in his pocket for the small leather pouch that he had been given, the one that promised a chance to sort things out with the trouble-maker.

He was going to sort her out alright, he thought as he walked back toward his modest home. He hoped again that the magic would work as he settled himself to wait for night to fall.

~   ~   ~

When he first saw the shimmer of her tail break the surface of the midnight water, he was almost too transfixed to move. The leather pouch disarmed the glamour that usually shielded the merfolk from human eye, baring their own desires to be seen.

The moon was full and bright, the sky cloudless. His new trap was set, and his hopes high that her curiosity would get the better of her and her hubris make her reckless.

The tinkling of bells a moment later alerted him of success, and he stood and grasped the heavy rope that would haul her up to him. The cage was heavy, filled as it was with the impish creature, but his arms were thick with muscles from many years of physical labor on ships and shores.

Soon it dangled above the waters edge, just a few feet in front of him. He secured the line and then looked at his quarry. She hadn’t spoken, but instead crossed her arms and glared at him with each heave-ho, seeming completely unfazed by her predicament. He anchored the line, then crossed his own arms and looked back at her, raising an eyebrow.

”You have been causing quite a bit of mischief around here lately,” he said calmly. Her tail, which had blended in almost seamlessly with the ocean waters, now glittered softly against the gray metal. She leaned against the bars and looked away, clearly mad at herself for being caught so easily.

“It was only a bit of fun,” she said, still not looking at him. She didn’t seem to fear him, which he appreciated, and which confirmed his suspicions that she had been watching him for a long time. He had no intentions of harming her, nor did he seek to gain anything from her capture.

Except peace, of course, and the promise of undisturbed nets and traps in the morning.

”What is happening?!” she exclaimed suddenly, her composure momentarily  gone. He looked at her fin, which seemed to be dissipating in a cloud of blue-green smoke. There was a second satchel affixed to the bottom of her cage, and it appeared to be working.

”It’s temporary,” he said as he walked toward her and unlatched the door. Her eyes were wide, watching the wiggling toes that now appeared out of the mist. He stepped back as the door swung open. She glanced at him, then turned her body toward the opening and slid on the wet metal until she sat on the edge of the still-dangling contraption.

First one foot and then the other stretched out, until both of her feet were planted on the dock. With a little jump, she moved forward, and then she was stumbling like a baby calf right into his arms. She released a peal of laughter, then stepped back, looking down as she said, “These are my new legs.”

She stood there, naked and beautiful in the moonlight, and he smiled at her and repeated, “Those are your new legs. Don’t go far, though. They won’t last.”

There was a second of warning in the impish grin she flashed his way, and then one of her new feet shot out and kicked him in the shin. It was enough for his quick seaman’s reflexes though, and he caught her arm before she could dive back into the waves. The pain broke the spell of the moonbeams and magic, and he remembered why he was here.

She shrieked as he hauled her back toward the land, to the sturdy chair that had been his resting place that night. “Yes, those are your new legs,” he said, taking a seat. “And this…” he paused as he tugged her across his lap, “this is your new bottom.”

He released her arm and wrapped his own arm around her middle, capturing her as securely as the metal bars had before. She beat her fists against his thigh and kicked her feet wildly, but he was weathered and strong and unperturbed as he patted her round bare backside with his hard calloused hand.

”You have caused a lot of trouble for me, little fish,” he said, not unkindly. “And for my neighbors. For my friends.”

”It is my sea and I will do what I want there!” she screeched. He managed to secure her left wrist as she flailed, pinning it to her wiggling hip.

”That, I am afraid, is where we disagree.”

Without further warning, he brought his hand down on her backside. A shower of saltwater rose as her bottom bounced, and she shrieked again loudly. He paid her no mind. Her new legs kicked and split, following the twisting of her torso as she tried to protect her new bottom, but he was undeterred. She would leave his lap when he felt sure the price of her pranks was too high for her to attempt them again. He considered whether she would feel the impact of a sore bottom when she returned to her natural form. He wasn’t sure, and so redoubled the force behind his swats.

Her defiant yells began to slip toward the direction of wailing, and he paused, resting his punishing hand on the round meat of her thigh and looking at the damage he had caused so far. The rest of her dripped with water, luminescent in the night light, but her backside was now dry, the luster of a spanked bottom clear even under the moon. He secured her more firmly against him, lowering his left knee and raising his right. She beat the sand with her free fist and yelled, “Let go of me!”

“Not until we’re finished here. Then you can scamper back to the water’s edge. Until then, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

Instead of answering, he felt a sharp pain erupt on the back of his calf muscle. A quick holler escaped his mouth and he jerked his leg, then he shook his head at her audacity. He slipped his right arm under her thighs, lifting her easily. In seconds she had been redeposited over his left knee, her legs pinned by his own strong limbs, and her wrist moved to the small of her back. Still without saying anything else, he gave the backs of her legs a few pats and then began to spank them with vigor, up and down and back and forth, spanking her thighs until they matched her glossy bottom, and then he began to spank her bottom and legs indiscriminately.

She dug her toes into the sand and he could hear her trying to catch her breath between howls. He felt sure a solid minute passed before he began to make out a word from her garbled noises. “Please,” he finally heard clearly.

It was a start. He delivered a few dozen more swats– he wanted it to be clear that this spanking was not hers to control– then slowed, then stopped. This time he absentmindedly ran his fingers over the hot skin of her bottom as he spoke, and she whimpered. “Are you ready to listen now?”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper so quiet that the waves almost lapped it up before it reached his ears. He heard it, though, and nodded resolutely.

“Good,” he said. “You will find some other way to occupy your free time than to run amok here. It is tricky business, depending on the sea to keep you fed, which you should well know. There’s no one here on these shores that can afford to be missing a day’s haul because you are feeling bored and devilish. Is that clear?”

He felt the muscles of her stomach clench as she swallowed a sob. He did feel sympathy for the creature, and didn’t think she meant real harm. Still, she needed to understand that her impulses had consequences beyond her momentary glee. Not wicked, but wayward. He patted her bottom as she answered him with another whisper. “It’s clear.”

“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll just be finishing up here.”

He took full advantage of her position as he began to spank her again, delivering hard and fast swats with a hand that seemed to land like a paddle. A lifetime of battling cages, battling winds, battling great fish on occasion, made him perfectly suited to delivering a memorable punishment to the mermaid’s poor bruised bottom. Her crying was quieter than her yelling had been, and her feet moved only in small jerky movements now.

When he finally stopped, he was confident this night would not slip from her memory any time soon. He freed her legs and arm, leaving her horizontal across his sturdy lap for a moment as he rested a comforting hand on the small of her back and used the other to rub her bottom gently. He admired the way the moon illuminated her naked body, how even in the fine light it was clear that she had been verily spanked. He thought this night would not soon slip from his own memory.

He guided her up after a moment, so she was sitting on his lap, feet dangling and one arm draped lightly around his shoulders. She used her other hand to wipe a few tears from her cheeks; he noticed they glistened in the same subtly beautiful way her fin had earlier in the night. Even sniffling as she was, he saw her observing her own toes as she first stretched, then wiggled, then curled them. She seemed unbothered by her nudity against his clothed body, and he appreciated her lack of inhibition.

“I’m not sure that these legs make up for the vulnerability of having a bottom,” she said in a small voice. He smiled, and said back, “We keep our bottoms safe by minding our behavior, and you could do the same.”

She smiled, and even now as her bottom surely throbbed, he noticed the impish gleam returning to her eyes. “I suppose I could try. I would have liked to explore these legs a bit more.”

He heard the regret in her voice, and looked down. A fine mist had settled along the lower half of her body, evaporating this time to leave her returned to her natural state. He followed her gaze as she looked wistfully inland. Then he looked back at her tear stained face and said, “Perhaps next time instead of giving you a spanking, I will give you a tour of the island. The spell will work again.”

She blushed, smiled, and nodded. He watched her bite her lip, clearly struggling to get something else out, then she said, “It still hurts. I can still feel it.” Another tear traced the tracks on her cheek.

“I hope you keep it in mind the next time you are feeling naughty.”

She nodded, sniffling, and he wiped a salty drip from the end of her nose. “Are you ready to return home?”

She nodded again, and he slipped his arms beneath her as her grip around his neck tightened. He walked with her in his arms to the water’s edge, and then kept going, until his waist was submerged and he could lower her gently into the waiting sea. She didn’t turn to wave as she swam away, but he saw her surface once more, illuminated by a distant puddle of moonlight, and then she was gone. He wondered if she would return, if he would get to learn more about her.

He hoped so, but only time would tell.

New Car?

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Hello and happy Saturday! Doing something a little fun if you are bored! I wrote a story about our sweet impulsive Ben and the troubles that befall him after a rogue purchase at the car lot.

I wrote two endings, and you can read them both if you are signed up (or want to sign up!) for my Patreon account.

https://www.patreon.com/theshadowsplay

It’s pretty easy and pretty cheap and you don’t have to commit. You do get to choose the fate for one bratty boy (plus there are additional mini stories there that don’t make it to the blog).

And! I have a new story for here that will be up this afternoon.

For now, here is the beginning of New Car! Whichever ending people decide will be posted publicly in a couple weeks. 🙂

~   ~   ~

Danny whistled as he circled Ben’s new Mustang. “Yours? Officially?” he asked, running an appreciative hand down the hood.

His brother nodded, grinning at Danny’s obvious appreciation for the machine. “They just put it on the lot this morning. I still can’t believe it.”

Emma was more skeptical than her boyfriend: it looked like a pile of junk to her. “Does it actually run?”

”It runs!” Ben said defensively. “The engine was completely overhauled, so all the work is in the body, but Dan and I can do most of that ourselves.”

“And Oliver is as into cars as you two? He wanted this thing?”

“It was under budget for what we talked about,” Ben said, not exactly answering her question. “Practically a steal. And it meets all the legal safety standards.”

“Not us you have to convince,” Danny said, shaking his head as he stood, having finished examining some detail that was unfathomable to Emma but clearly a thing of beauty to the Kendrick brothers. His hands were now in his pockets, his eyes on the car still. “Think he’s going to let you keep it?”

There was a beat of silence and then Ben asked reluctantly, “Do you?”

Emma scoffed and Danny smiled grimly as Ben let his facade drop. They all knew he had gone rogue with this purchase, and no innocent act was going to fool anyone present.

“Maybe,” Danny answered finally, but Emma just shook her head, not quite so convinced. It went without saying that whether he would be able to keep it or not was secondary to other consequences Ben would soon be facing. There was a rock in his stomach that seemed to be growing.

“Are you going to help me fix it up if he does?” he asked Danny hopefully, trying to stay positive.

“Oh absolutely,” Danny said, as Emma exclaimed at the same time “Of course he isn’t!” This was followed by a shocked, “Danny!”

He shrugged his shoulders, holding his hands up innocently as he looked at his girlfriend. “If he gets to keep it anyway…”

“Alright alright,” she said, but then she looked back at Ben and said “but you know you shouldn’t be allowed to.”

“You just don’t appreciate her like we do!” Ben said, looking so stricken that Emma finally broke and grinned.

“If you say so. Good luck then. You’re gonna need it.”

She Says

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Late, again.

I told her I was going to leave work on time, promised her even, and I believed it when I said it.

I should have believed her when she said there would be consequences if I was wrong. She doesn’t even smile when I walk in the door, just points to the corner. I try to look as sorry as I feel, start to murmur, “But…”

She snaps her fingers and says “Now.” Shoulders sagging, I set down my briefcase and trudge over to what she has designated “my” corner. Sometimes I am not on my best behavior here, but she has her hairbrush sitting next to her on the sofa. I don’t want to invite any more trouble, so I stand very still. Mostly.

And I did mean to be on time! I always do. I love coming home to her. But there always seems to be one more thing that needs my attention, five more minutes of paperwork, just that last little task…

Of course, I try to explain all of this to her a few minutes later, when I am standing at her knee with my pants around my ankles. She isn’t sympathetic, and I have to stand there in my underwear and button down shirt, face burning as she scolds me. She says I need to budget my time more wisely during the day. She says I need better boundaries. She says we’re going to work on these things together. This makes me gulp.

Mostly all I say is “Yes, ma’am,” but I can feel myself becoming more sullen. I’m home now, and we’re going to waste our whole evening on this.

“Excuse me?”

Uh-oh. I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud.

“I guess we are finished talking for now. Get over my lap.”

I’m embarrassed by the whiny sound I make here, but I do as I’m told. It takes a minute to get fully settled, but the moment I am, she yanks my underwear down to the middle of my thighs. I groan when I feel her warm hand resting on my cool bottom. It’d be nice if we could just stay like this, but her other arm is wrapping around my middle and then the warmth is briefly gone and replaced by the sting of her palm.

She is thorough! I’m usually pretty good at being still– she expects me to be, so I had to figure that out early on– but she doesn’t make it easy. I never know where the next swat is going to land, but in her own haphazard way she manages to cover every inch and then some. She is quiet until she decides to heat up the tops of my thighs, too. Then she starts to lecture me about my attitude and how it better change along with everything else. I say “yes ma’am” whenever it’s quiet, but it’s hard to concentrate over the building pain.

Her hand is nothing compared to the ivory hairbrush. When I feel her reach for it, I can’t help but clench my bottom. I know exactly how much damage that thing can do. She saves it for when I’m in trouble, but that happens more often than you might think. This brush and I are not exactly strangers.

I buck under the first few licks, before I can get my body under control. When the devilish round oval hits the tops of my thighs, I say, “Please!” without thinking, then groan because I know it isn’t going to do any good. She has made it clear on many occasions that she’ll stop when she is good and ready and not a second before.

Today, she isn’t ready for ages. My knuckles are taut as I grip the couch cushion, and the toes of my shoes press against the floor. By the time she is finished, my bottom feels like it must be twice as round as it usually is, and I know when I look in the mirror, I will see imprints of the hairbrush in places. She presses against the new bruises and I yelp, but she will not be rushed. As I lay there catching my breath, I reach back and grab the folds of her long skirt, needing something to hold on to.

“Are you going to be late tomorrow?” she asks, more gently than she has spoken to me since I got home.

“No, ma’am.”

“Good,” she says, “because next time I am not waiting. Next time, me and my hairbrush are coming to your office.”

My heart thumps loudly in my chest, and I say “Yes, ma’am,” once more.

Would she really come to my office? The thought makes me clench again, but this time the contracting muscles hurt and I wince. I don’t think it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I think from now on, I will try harder to be home on time.

Priorities

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“But Caroline, did you see how nice the shelves looked?”

“Yes, I did. They look very nice,” Caroline said from her spot on the sofa, not looking up from her book.

“And if you open the desk drawers, they’re all neat now! I threw out a bunch of stuff and added some organizers, and I dusted…”

“Thank you. Your corner time is not going to start until you stop talking,” Caroline said this time, attention still focused on her paperback.

Sadie stomped her foot, turning her face back toward the corner where her toes had stayed pointed as she tried to sway her girlfriend.  She stopped talking, though, and after a few seconds of silence, Caroline reached over to tap the “Start” button on her phone’s countdown clock. There was no talking in the ten minutes that followed, but Sadie struggled to stay still, antsy as she was.  Caroline cleared her throat, once, which stopped the biggest offenses. Still, the younger woman’s feet never managed to stay quite still and her fingers twitched often.

“Come over here, please,” Caroline said when the timer buzzed. Sadie flopped around, leaning back against the wall of the living room and looking at Caroline dejectedly.  “Isn’t corner time enough?”

“I’m beginning to think my hand is not going to be enough,” Caroline mused. That got Sadie moving faster than she’d have liked to admit. She had no interest in feeling their punishment paddle on her bottom today; her girlfriend’s hand hurt plenty. Once by her side, Caroline reached over to tug the flowery summer shorts down from Sadie’s waist. The girl crossed her arms again and looked at the ceiling, trying not to be embarrassed. She would rather have been naked than to be standing there in her pink underwear and t-shirt, and ankles trapped by her newly lowered shorts. She felt so undignified.

Of course, Caroline wouldn’t give her the luxury of a quick transfer to her waiting lap. Instead, she made Sadie stand there as she questioned her. “What did I ask you to do today, Sadie?”

Sadie sighed and said, “You asked me to find my social security card and passport, but–”

“I asked you to find your social security card and passport,” Caroline repeated back to her, not letting Sadie finish her thought. “Did I ask you to clean the shelves?”

“No, but–”

“Did I ask you to re-organize the desk?”

“No, but Car–”

“No, I didn’t. Please put your hands on your head.”

Sadie’s face radiated heat as she did as she was told. Her shirt lifted, exposing a thin line of her belly as she looked down at her displeased disciplinarian. Being scolded was quickly taking the wind from her sails.

“I appreciate you and the things you do around our home to keep it clean and tidy. However, I asked you to prioritize something today.  You may have started out on mission, but you allowed yourself to get distracted over and over again by tasks you enjoy more.”

Sadie let out a small whine, but Caroline kept going.

“I texted you several times to remind you to stay on track, and you assured me you were. We came up with a long list of places you could look today. How many places are checked off of that list, young lady?”

Sadie, still blushing furiously, said, “Three.”

“That is not acceptable,” Caroline said sternly. “And I expect you to do better. Get over my lap.”

Sadie practically dove across the couch at the command, desperate as she was to hide her face in her hands. She squealed as Caroline’s hand made contact with her panty-clad bottom, the initial sting of a spanking somehow always more terrible than she was prepared for.  “Ooo” and “owww” and all manner of small unintelligible noises came from her mouth as she wiggled her hips and kicked her feet.

There was a pause in the onslaught, though it didn’t bring much comfort to the girl being spanked. Caroline grabbed her underwear on each side and whisked it purposefully down to join her shorts. The older woman ran an appreciative hand over the pretty blushy cheeks in front of her, patting one and then the other as she prepared to continue.

“I know you’re worried that we won’t be able to find them,” she said when she did bring her palm down again, resuming her steady pace and ignoring the renewed squirming. “And that you would rather avoid looking than to be disappointed in yourself for having lost them.”

“Caroline!” Sadie whined, mortified to be so seen.

“I know you, my girl,” Caroline said sympathetically, her attention still focused on delivering a thorough spanking as she lectured.  “There is nothing to be disappointed about, though. If we can’t find them, we will get them replaced and we will find a new spot for them and keep them there. And we won’t beat ourselves up about it. We will just try to do better.”

More pitiful noises from Sadie, mingled with the sharp smacking sounds of a hand colliding with a bare bottom.

“But we can’t make anything better by ignoring it. Do you understand me?”

“Aaahh, yes ma’am,” Sadie whimpered.

“Good,” Caroline said, pulling the girl in closer as she prepared to finish the spanking. “I feel pretty confident that you’ll be able to find them when you really look.  Unfortunately for you, you will now be looking with a pretty spanked bottom to keep you company.”

Sadie squealed, embarrassment that quickly gave way to gasps of shock at the hard onslaught of swats that followed. Her legs scissored wildly as they rained down, and then, just as suddenly, it was over.

She moaned softly as Caroline ran gentle fingers across and around her bottom, swiping a few stray tears from her watery eyes with her own finger. When she felt a tap on her leg, she lifted her pelvis automatically, allowing Caroline to slide her underwear back up and over her round bottom. She was unsurprised to feel her shorts being tugged off immediately afterward, and was prematurely abashed as she thought about searching the house this evening with her spanked backside peeking out from under her cotton underwear.

At least Caroline would be around, and Sadie smiled a bit impishly to herself at that thought. She could have done without the hot bottom, but she would have the small comfort of company.

Summer Is Canceled

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Oliver could not believe what he was hearing. He stood in the kitchen of his childhood home, where he had just finished cleaning up after making himself lunch. He and Ben often came by for family dinners, but tonight his boyfriend had work and couldn’t make it. Oliver had come in early to spend some time with his sisters before their parents got home.

What was supposed to be a nice surprise was turning into a disappointing afternoon, though.  Jessica had just finished her freshman year at the community college in town, and Sunny had recently graduated high school and was planning to join Jessica in the fall. Both still lived at home and were best friends, still sharing the same room they’d had since they were small children. And what they were discussing now had Oliver clenching the dishtowel he had been about to put away.

They were going over plans for the weekend, which apparently included using the new fake IDs Jessica had just procured for them, along with complaints about the bouncer who had confiscated their old ones. He didn’t like the sound of that at all, though more upsetting were the many moments flooding his consciousness now: all the times he had comforted Jessica when their parents had been upset about her grades, defending her to them after hearing promises that she was really doing her best. Sunny’s grades had suffered this year, too, and Oliver had chalked it up to senioritis time and time again. He felt he was getting a clearer picture now and he did not appreciate the new news.

“Girls,” he called sharply. “Come to the kitchen.”

He hadn’t planned to eavesdrop and didn’t want to continue doing so now.  The house became eerily quiet in the wake of his command, and then he could hear the shuffle of two sets of tennis shoes headed his way. Jessica walked in first, bangs falling into her eyes and hands dangling defeatedly down by the long purse she carried, the thick green strap crossing her button-down blouse. Sunny walked in with her chin pointed at the ceiling, eyes rolled and hands holding the ends of her two long braids.

“Hand them over,” he said, holding out his palm.

“Hand what over?” Sunny said, gesturing with her arms that she was confused by the question.  Oliver focused his attention on his youngest sister, jaw clenching and un-clenching, then said, “Would you like me to wash your mouth out after I’m finished spanking your backside, Sunny? Or before?””

The girl’s eyes widened further, counterfeit innocence replaced with genuine horror. It hadn’t been very long ago that he had last followed through on that same threat, and she had no desire to revisit the experience. Still, they had paid for these and hadn’t even gotten to use them yet! She felt frozen, but she didn’t have a lot of options. She let out a frustrated sigh and then said, “No to both!” as she grabbed the ID from her back pocket and shoved it into Oliver’s hand. She crossed her arms and glared defiantly up and away, trying to keep the angry tears that had pooled in her eyes from dropping.

“Jessica?” Oliver said sternly, turning his gaze to her.

She took a deep breath as her eyes darted around the room; she looked desperate for a way out of this but was coming up empty.  “Can’t we just…” she began, hands grasping the strap of her purse as she tried to find something Oliver would accept. Patience wearing thin, Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath of his own as she trailed off. When he opened them again, he was looking right into his sister’s eyes. Now it was Jessica who was flooded with bitterness, seeing that she wasn’t going to win this fight. She pursed her lips and then dug through her bag, digging out the fake and handing it to her brother.

Oliver slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked back toward the stove, reaching for the beat up coffee tin that was probably as old as he was and the large wooden spoon that resided there. At times it had been the most-used item in their kitchen, despite rarely seeing the inside of a pan or bowl. Both girls felt their stomachs drop as he turned back to them. “Upstairs, both of you. Right now,” he said, walking toward them and in that direction himself.  “Go on.”

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A few minutes later, Oliver sat across from his sisters in their room; he was on Jessica’s bed and they were on Sunny’s, in a scene that felt all too familiar. He leaned over, elbows resting on his knees and spoon grasped loosely in his right hand.

“I’m not happy about the fakes.  They seem like a silly risk when you’ll be able to drink at any campus party anyway. And clearly you don’t recognize how generous it was of that bouncer to merely confiscate the old ones.  That night could have gone very poorly. And more than anything, I’m disappointed in the way you’ve both behaved this past year.”

Sunny interjected indignantly, “You don’t even know what we did last year!” She let herself fall back on the bed, dejected.

“Sit up, Sunny,” Oliver said sternly.  She did, slowly, and he continued. “I didn’t like what I overheard, and yes it gave me some insight into your social lives. No, I’m not going to argue with you about it. The thing that disappoints me is not that you like to party– I hope you’re being responsible about it, but that is a different discussion.  I’m disappointed that you are letting that take top priority while both of your grades slip. Jessica, you are off to a rough start at the new school, and Sunny, you didn’t exactly finish strong.”

Both girls stared awkwardly away, mouths tight as they absorbed the criticism. Neither of them was happy to hear it, but they couldn’t exactly deny it. They’d had very long talks over the kitchen table with both parents at the end of term about their report cards. No one had gone to bed happy those nights.

“I’m also tired of the sighs and the eye rolls. I’m tired of the attitudes in general. I don’t deserve them and neither do Mom and Dad. Most of all, I’m tired of talking. Sunny, let’s get this done.”

The younger girl flopped back on the bed again, never one to be graceful about accepting a punishment. She seemed to feel that she had nothing else to lose, and so would often show out before a spanking. If she was honest with herself, it was the burst of nervous energy that would explode in her chest when suddenly there was nothing else between herself and the trouble she was in. Not knowing what else to do with it, she had always been prone to physical tantrums. Oliver wasn’t phased.

“That’s two, one more and I go get the soap I mentioned earlier.”

For the second time, the threat sent Sunny scrambling; in seconds she was over her brother’s lap. He flipped her short skirt up, revealing green underwear with dancing middle fingers all over them that made his eyes roll. He pulled her securely against him, and then brought his hand down hard on her left cheek, then her right. Soon she was squealing and wiggling, and he had no intention of slowing down any time soon.

“I don’t know what happened to my sweet baby sister but I want her back and I want her back fast,” he lectured, pausing only to yank her underwear down to her knees.  “You are too smart to be blowing off school for weekday parties.”

“I still made As and Bs,” Sunny yelled at him, kicking her feet at the bed.

Oliver brought his palm down harder on her reddening bottom and said, “If you were a C student who brought home Cs, I would be happy to see them. But you’re an A student who bought home mostly Bs and a C, to be precise. And you told me you were trying but I don’t think I believe that any more.”

Here he paused, reaching over to grab the wooden spoon. As he patted it on her bottom, he asked, “You wanna tell me how next semester is going to be better, Sunny?”

The girl groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over her head, refusing to reply.  As Oliver lifted the spoon into the air, he looked over to Jessica, cocking one eyebrow as she made guilty eye contact. He was sure she could read his thoughts– You are supposed to be a good example for her— as he brought the spoon down hard on their little sister’s already sore bottom. Sunny bucked, but Oliver didn’t leave much of a pause before he brought it down again, quickly finding a rhythm and doing a thorough job of blistering the younger girl’s behind and the tops of her thighs. He intended this to be one of the harder spankings she’d gotten, and she was beginning to show evidence that he was getting there. 

Her scrambling became more desperate, and soon the pillow from her head had fallen to the floor as her hands tried to weasel their way across her bottom. He gathered them up easily, using the break to also throw his leg across hers. “You earned every bit of this spanking, young lady,” he said sternly as he prepared to continue.

“You’re so mean!” she said pitifully, shrieking at the end as the spoon landed once again. “I’m sorry, Ollie!” she said immediately, tune changing with the fresh sting.

“I think you’re sorry to finally be called out for the way you’ve been acting, Sunny Kim. And I think you’re going to be sorrier still if we have to have any more talks about your attitude in the near future.” He kept bringing the spoon down on her bottom, knowing that she was going to hate what was coming next, but not wanting her to argue.

“I don’t want to find out news by overhearing you two. And clearly you can’t be trusted to pass things along on your own. So you both are about to spend the summer on lock down, and it will stay that way until I feel more confident that next semester is going to be better than this last year has been.”

“Ollie no!” Jessica said, her hand going to her mouth, which remained open after her exclamation. A sob shook Sunny’s body, and Oliver was sure that being on restriction had just reached a place in her that no amount of spanking would have gotten to. Still, the spanking was going to re-enforce it.

“Absolutely yes,” he said, still flicking the spoon down across Sunny’s bottom. He was almost finished, and wanted to make sure every inch was going to be sore well into the weekend. “Do you hear that, Sunny? And do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she said, voice filled with sadness as visions of her perfect party summer slipped from her reach. “I understand, Ollie. I’m sorry.”

Oliver set the spoon aside, then pulled the girl’s underwear up before scooping her into his lap.  She threw her hands around his neck and cried into his shoulder as he rubbed her back and tried to keep some weight off of her bottom. He had no regrets about paddling her, and no qualms about the spanking he was about to give his other sister, either. Still, there was room for sympathy, and he thought she deserved a little.

He cuddled her for a few minutes before gently urging her off his lap; she stood shakily and looked sadly at her sister as she walked back to her bed, sitting gingerly again. She wanted to curl up under the blankets and pretend the last hour hadn’t happened, but she knew she wouldn’t be allowed. Not until the entire punishment was over. Oliver gestured for Jessica to come over to him.

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While Sunny was always the more vocally defiant of the girls, it was Jessica that caused the most trouble for Oliver once she was across his knee. The same stubborn resistance that kept her mouth shut when Sunny couldn’t help but answer his questions sarcastically would become the guardian of her howls. He would get them– he always did– but she didn’t make it easy.

It wasn’t long before Oliver was reaching for the wooden spoon a second time, then making sure Jessica was snug against his body. He could feel her rigid breathing as she tried to tune out what he was about to do. Oliver let the spoon snap down right as she began to suck in another slow breath; the jerky disruption he saw it cause encouraged him to continue. He was unpredictable with the wooden oval, leaving prints all over her bottom and thighs

“I do not expect you to float through school, Jessica. I hope that is clear,” he began to scold as he paddled her. “I don’t think I have unreasonable expectations. I want you to have fun, but not so much fun that your college career is a waste of time. Is that clear?”

She didn’t answer, wrapped up as she was in her breathing exercises, and so Oliver brought the spoon down especially hard several times. Her attention returned to him immediately and she let out an involuntary cry.

“I asked you a question, young lady,” he said, continuing to spank her as he talked. “I want to see more effort from you. Do you understand me?”

“Fine, yes, I understand!” she answered, voice strained as she tried to hide acknowledgement of her current situation.

“I’m not entirely sure you do, but you will. You two can have your dinner standing up while I talk to Mom and Dad about some of this behavior and what we plan to do about it.”

Oliver heard a sniffle from Sunny, but he kept his attention on the sister currently over his knee, who was now gasping as she tried to keep her hands forward.

“I better see some improvement in your attitude starting right this second, and in your grades from week one.”

”You will,” she said finally, feet kicking suddenly in a last grasp for control before her hand flew back to try and cover her aching bottom. Oliver snatched up her wrist, encouraged by the break in her stoic demeanor.

“You told me repeatedly that you were doing your best, and I believed you,” he continued. “I will not be so naive next time. Until you can find your way back to your own healthy standards, I’m going to expect you to meet mine.”

Jessica gave a frustrated growl that turned quickly into a screech. The screech was followed by a sudden flood of “please, Ollie,” and “I’m sorry, I’ll do better!” cries, and Oliver knew they were finally finished. He delivered a dozen more searing swats, the final two hard on her thighs, and put the spoon away. The moment her underwear were back in place, Jessica rolled toward him, up to fling her arms around his neck. Her tears didn’t come until the spanking was over, and now they streamed down her face. He rubbed her back as he held her, letting out a sigh. They may not be able to see it, but he had just committed himself to a more difficult summer as well. He held no illusions about his sisters’ potential for bad behavior, and had a feeling that they would be plotting something before the season was over.

After a few minutes, he shifted to allow Jessica to lie on her bed, belly down and hands reaching back to fan themselves delicately along the obviously spanked cheeks that peeked from her underwear. Sunny shifted to lie down as well, though she had pulled her skirt back down. It didn’t quite cover the tops of her burning thighs, and he suspected Jessica would find herself in the same situation. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He never policed what they wore, but he wasn’t going to be less thorough because they were drawn to short jumpers.

Oliver kissed their heads, and reassured them quietly that he loved them and wanted what was best for them. He was sure both would be napping in a matter of minutes, worn out from their punishments. That would give him time to catch their parents up, then he could wake the girls before dinner. As he left their room and closed the door, he sighed, wishing they didn’t want to grow up so fast. He hoped that a pair of sore bottoms would remind them that, to some extent, they weren’t allowed to.