Date: Wed, 4 Sep 1996 21:55:29 -0400 X-Sender: teddyt@teddyt.pop.crosslink.net Mime-Version: 1.0 To: laura@netgate.net From: Ted Subject: Spanking, the Maid Spanking, the Maid (f/m, m/f, F/m, F/f) The middle-aged man with impeccably brushed salt-and-pepper hair, perfect posture and rolling baritone loved strolling through the row of antique shops on the edge of the city's barrio. Finally, he found what he was looking for. A beat-up old sofa that obviously had been on intimate terms with more than one family in its long life. The fabric, the bowed frame, the dank aroma led the man backwards. Backwards in time. He began humming. A childish refrain long chanted on playgrounds everywhere. *** "What'cha doin', Bren?" Teddy challenged as he leaned over the girl's back fence. "Just hangin' 'round," she replied archly. "I like it when you *hang around*," said the cowlicked, freckled imp with eyes of blue and tongue of silver. "Fact, I luvvv lookin' up your school dress when you hang from the monkey bars." He grinned, too pleased with himself to have realized he would never get to peek that way again now that he spilled his secret. Too smug to understand that his admission jeopardized his own well-being. "You do not," she sang back, not having remembered him peeking but also uncertain of who was down below when she was swinging, flipping and twirling in anticipation of being selected to the 1964 Olympic team. "Do, too!" the 9-year-old boy trumpeted, crinkling his nose and springing over the fence. "White on Monday, blue on Tuesday, pink on Wednesday, yellow on Thursday and red on Friday!" She blanched. Teddy knew the contents of her entire second drawer from the top! Even though the next Mensa meeting wasn't for another week, Brenda Harris knew how to get even. She decided not to give her tormentor the satisfaction of her shame. Putting her hands to her face as if she were about to cry, Brenda dropped them quickly and shot him her best tattle-tale glare -- chin out, lips tight, eyes on fire. In the same microsecond as he pleaded, "Don't tell," Brenda spat out everygirl's threat: "I'm tellin' on you, Teddy, and you'll get a spankin'!" "But you were showin' off!" He was backed against the fence. "What'll you do if I don't tell?" Brenda asked, raising the stakes. "Will ya show me .... y'know??" If only these two could have been at the negotiating table in Geneva, perhaps there never would have been a Cuban Missile Crisis or the Berlin Wall. "If you don't tell, then I won't tell about the day you didn't wear any panties!" Teddy countered. "And, I guess, um, y'know, I guess I could show ya." Suddenly she smacked his shoulder and stomped. "Don't you dare say I didn't wear panties! You're nasty!!!" Her condemnation was music to his ears. It was then he suspected that Brenda did, indeed, like him. "Heyyyoowww!" he responded to the smack, quickly following up the bargaining. "I have an idea! Maybe cuz you didn't wear panties and would get a lickin' for that, and maybe cuz I peeked and I'd get a spankin' ... maybe would could give EACH OTHER a little spanky." Her squeal and giggle sealed the deal. "But I get to spank YOU first," she insisted. "And it has to be on the ... bare!!! "Gee whiz, Bren, that isn't fair," he protested, but not too hard. "I mean, what if you do it and then run away?" "Cross my heart and hope to spit and eat the stuff from your mother's zit," she promised solemnly. They flew through her back yard and took the four steps down to her basement door in one hop and a skip. It was damp and musty, as all basements are, and he realized he had never been invited down there before on the few occasions he had been invited to play at all. She made a beeline to that couch, the one that was always advertised late at night on TV -- the indestructible Herculon fabric that would close up like a Venus fly trap when you stuck a ball point pen into the foam rubber. The one with houndstooth pattern in '50s black and white. "OK," she said matter-of-factly sounding uncannily like Mrs. Harris. So much so that it was clear Brenda had memorized this scene many times before. "Get your shorts down ... and your underpants, too." Slowly, haltingly, furtively, Teddy turned away from her and let his shorts fall. Then, even more slowly than his dad picked up a check when dining with friends, Teddy slid his underpants down, getting through the ordeal by pretending that it was a visit to the doctor and that the nurse was still in the room. Yes, he was scared. But he was also ever-so-slightly eager to find out what would happen. Brenda was scared, too, and it was up to the instigator to move the action forward. "My mom makes me go over her knee," he stammered. "Do I have to do that?" "Of course, silly! That's how *everybody* gets a spankin'!" "Unh, uh," Teddy argued, not noticing Brenda's amazement at the sight of his pink erection, thicker than the thickest pencil in art class! Much longer than her own forefinger. Showing off his grasp of current affairs as well, he explained, his hands gesturing like lecturing professor and his cocklet pointing north, that Brian gets put over the couch, and Scotty has to lean over a chair, and Tina has to put her hands on her head while her dad paddles her panties. "Wow," she exhaled, truly impressed for the second time in less than a minute. "Can we get it over with quick," he asked, looking worried for the first time, and a slight bit outlandish as he hobbled toward her, his underpants constricting his ankles. It was the first and only time he ever actually heard a girl go, "tee hee." "I'll decide how long," she said, trying out the role of mom and kind of liking it. "How many spanks do you think you deserve for being bad?" "But I didn't mean it! You were showing off your panties!" She remained impassive, till he offered an opening bid. "Five," he said, scowling. "In your father's overshoes, Barf Face!" she stung him, forgetting that she was obviously going to get what she gave and that Ted was bigger and meaner. "OK, Mister. You will get 10," she announced. "Yeah, then you get 10, too!" he said. "Nuh, uh! Peeking is worse than no panties." She ended the most scintillating debate since the last Republican platform committee hearing by fluffing, straightening and refluffing her denim cowgirl dress. "Get over my lap this instant, Theodore." He shuffled, grunted and sighed, wondering if this was the end of the world as he knew it ... or just the beginning. She giggled again. "Teddy, you got a chubby butt!" "Pleeeeze, get it over with!" he implored. As he teetered over her lap, he grabbed her ankle an instant before her hand smacked down sharply on his chubby left cheek. She spanked him again on his right cheek and then quickly on the same spot. The first two felt strangely pleasant, and the breeze from an open window high above cooled his bottom. But the third smack was delivered with all the ferocity this pixie could muster and Teddy, emitted his first yell. By number six he was bucking wildly. At number seven she giggled again and teased that she could see her hand prints on his backside. He was threatening mayhem on her by spank number eight. Suddenly, as he twisted, Brenda grabbed onto his personal pommel. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but spank number nine produced a moistening of his eyes and number ten, in conjunction with her nervous clenching of his shaft, produced a swelling pride at the end of what she could only call his dingie. Then she raised her hand high in triumph and smacked his tushy as hard as she possibly could. He bit his lip raw, trying not to yell, just in case the maid was in the kitchen directly above. He lay over Brenda's lap, his ass on fire, his penis twirled around her little finger and his eyes wide open to a future few men could ever imagine. Gingerly, he arose, trying gauchely to hide the erection between his folded hands. She stared at the mystery of the male body as he pulled her up from the battered old sofa. "Come on, Bren. It's your turn," Teddy choked, both from excitement and from a spanking he would never admit was harder than what his own mother gave him. The words of everyboy came easily to his lips: "Pull your panties down." "No!!! I don't wanna!!!" "You better, young lady!" he said, painfully reaching down to vocal cords still years away from tenor, much less baritone. He wrestled her to the couch till her dress rose above her slim hips to reveal her Minnie Mouse panties. Wasting no time, he pulled Brenda over his knee, his lips curled down in a pout of self satisfaction and little Teddy still at attention. "You're gonna get it, too!" Brenda played her part to the hilt, whining, "But don't you peek at anything!" Like having sex, there are no instructions, but somehow Teddy had no trouble knowing what to do next and how to do it. In excruciatingly slow motion, he tugged and rolled, scrunched and twisted until her panties meandered down and Minnie's hands pointed south. Brenda's tiny buttocks were clenched tight enough to turn coal into diamonds. It was then that Teddy found that the sound of his own voice in command was every bit as exciting as the actual sensation of feeling curved hand splatting across smooth bottom. "All right, Brenda. I am going to give you a good hard spanking, now." She drew in her breath and closed her eyes, jerking forward at the first whap. Teddy meant what he said, and in no time he had his hostess mewling and sobbing, rubbing inadvertently against his boyish flagpole. Brenda was almost brave when her own dad spanked, but this time, be it from discomfort or from embarrassment, she began kicking. On the playground, Teddy might have seen all the sights he could only have dreamed about. Now he was gazing at the universal wonder of the world. In all his travels in later years, there would be no vista -- not the Cathedral of Notre Dame, not Buckingham Palace, not the Sistine Chapel -- that would fill him with as much awe as this little slit of heaven. Trying to sound stern, Teddy continued the tongue lashing as well. "I hope you have learned a lesson young lady!" And he would spank. "You were a naughty little girl!" And he would spank. Finally it was over, and with uncharacteristic generosity, he began rubbing her pink tushy as Brenda cried softly. A hush fell over the dark basement, an unseen presence. But not for long. "Um, Bren?" "Huh?" she answered. "Is that your maid over there at the bottom of the stairs? Is that a belt?" "I think we're in trouble, Teddy. Run for it!" She scrambled off his lap and Teddy tried to bolt from his starting blocks, but then came the realization first stated by Confucious centuries ago: "A girl can run faster with her dress up than a man can with his pants down." He clattered to the linoleum tile, hoping to pass out. He might have willed himself unconscious, but he woke up soon enough and he was lying across the maid's white apron. The yowls from the belt-licking sounded far away at first, but then he realized it was he who was sounding the distant tocsin of boyish indiscretion. He looked sideways through tear-filled eyes and called out, "Brenda! Don't leave me here! Come back! It was your fault, toooooooOWWWWWW!!" She had reached the door, but then turned back a step, calling out, "Maria! Please stop! We were just playin'! Don't hurt him!" Teddy was crying and tensing every muscle, enduring this impossible dream. But when he heard Brenda's entreaty of loyalty, what passed for his heart filled with like. Maria was unmoved, but Brenda scooted over and grabbed her arm in mid-lick. "It wasn't HIS fault! It was MY idea, Maria!" The maid stopped just long enough for Teddy to tumble to the floor. Maria stood up grimly and advanced toward a frozen little girl. The boy knelt on the cold floor rubbing his hot bottom and sobbing. He crawled on his knees back to the couch just as Maria had plopped Brenda across her lap. He took his coconspirator's hands in his and squeezed tight. "Plllllleeeeze, not too hard, Maria!" she pleaded. "We're sorrrry!" With each thwhack of the belt, Teddy clenched Brenda's hands in his, till his knuckles ached. The sound of her father's belt on her bare bottom cracked through the basement, but Brenda cried as quietly as possible. The children did not know how long it would last, so Teddy began diversionary movements, stroking her tear-streaked face and pushing the hair out of her eyes. He whispered to her that it would be over soon and that he would still like her. Then, turning to Maria, he began bargaining again. "Seņorita, you won't tell our moms will ya?" As she shook her head, "no," Teddy noticed that the woman of dispassionate mien and strength of arm was actually quite beautiful, though her work fashion of tightly-bunned black hair and formless white uniform was designed to instill both productivity in the Harris household and discipline in the spoiled only child. He saw the high ridge of Mayan cheekbone, her dolorous brown eyes, the resoluteness of her puffy lips. And he saw from her scuffed and battered shoes that she was a woman who needed every penny she earned just to survive. And the maid had work to do yet. After a last splat from the strap, she let the girl slide off her lap. Teddy picked her up and hugged her as Maria straightened her apron and strode back upstairs. She was sniffling; he was chanting softly: "I see London, I see France, I see Brenda's underpants!" "I guess I like you, too," Brenda told him. "You were actually sortta nice," she sniffled, as he hugged. "But that doesn't mean you're my boyfriend," she spat, recovering her composure quickly. "And you ain't my girlfriend, neither!" he snapped his head. He was still rubbing his own bottom, then began stroking hers. She complied with his touch and bent slightly at the waist. He let his hand rest on this pedestal of paradise. *** Judge Theodore Tose was sitting on that couch in the antique store when the hand of the proprietor upon his shoulder roused him from his reverie. "We are closing, sir. Perhaps you can come back tomorrow." "Ah, yes. Thank you. Of course I'll be back, Maria." ###