Subject: Legacy of Love (sp,F/f,nc)kfr
From: Kfry2k@aol.com
Date: 25 Oct 1997 09:59:57 -0700
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction depicting a teenager being spanked. If you are not of legal age stop reading now. Any similarity between characters depicted in this story and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Becky Harmon dodged through the door of the General Store just as the storm broke. A brilliant flash of lightning stabbed the sky, followed by a huge clap of thunder, partially muted as she slammed the door behind her. Dust swirled in the street outside as the storm front struck, bringing pelting hailstones and torrential rain. Fascinated by the violence of the storm's onset, Becky shivered a little. Through the beveled glass of the door, she watched as the dust turned to mud before her eyes, rainwater cascading off the store's ornately decorated porch roof.
"Hello, Becky." A familiar voice said behind her. "Just in the nick of time."
Becky turned, surprised, to see a pleasant-looking fortyish woman regarding her with amusement, hands on her hips. Her right hand held a feather duster, giving her a motherly appearance.
"Hi, Mrs. Wilson." Becky replied brightly. "Gosh, look at it come down!" she added, glancing out the window.
"Yes, it certainly is a gully-washer, isn't it?" the older woman agreed. Turning to her dusting, she offered "Stay as long as you like, dear, no sense getting soaked."
Becky nodded, remembering to say "Thanks, Mrs. Wilson."
She wandered around the store, looking at this and that, killing time. The place had the unmistakable smell of age, born of old wood that needed painting, and the impregnated clay dust carried in from outside by generations of feet. Dry goods, kerosene, putty, pickles soaking in brine, a thousand different aromas all said "Country".
As Becky toured the shop, she came across an area which tempted her sorely: the candy shelves. Her mother was not well, being a partial invalid. Since her father died, her mother had done her absolute best to raise Becky and her brother. Her needlework and sewing helped supplement her late husband's estate, meager enough, but there was seldom money for luxuries. Now, Becky regarded the caramel bars with a longing born of too much month at the end of the money. Mrs. Wilson was busy at the other end of the store, Becky noticed, glancing nervously about. "She won't miss just one little piece." The girl reasoned silently to herself. Against all she had been taught and believed in, Becky wrapped her hand furtively around the candy, palming it somewhat clumsily. A thrill went through her as she noticed Mrs. Wilson heading her way. "Oh, please!" she wailed silently, "I hope she didn't see me!" Thoughts of recent rumors came to her, unbidden and unwelcome.
"Did not!" "Did too!" the argument raged, one young boy against another.
"My cousin saw it, I'm telling you!", the first boy declared. Confronted with the idea of a witness, the second youngster became less certain, saying
"Really? Honest Injun?" interested now in what promised to be a chilling tale.
"Cross my heart and hope to die!" the first boy said, crossing his chest in the universal sign of total commitment. That tore it. The second boy, now totally convinced by the childhood oath, remarked "Wow!" who woulda' guessed? So what happened?"
The first boy looked around, nervously. Matters like this needed to be discussed in private. "Well," he said, "my cousin told me about two weeks ago, his next-door neighbor's kid got into some trouble. That's when SHE showed up." The conversation continued, the boys unaware that another pair of ears were listening. Becky was nearby, out of sight, as the two boys talked. It seemed that Mrs. Wilson was reputed to be some kind of community disciplinarian, taking charge when parents couldn't do the job themselves.
"Yeah," the first boy went on, "my cousin says the kid got it good, too!"
"Golly!" his companion remarked, gulping a little. "I'm not going in there anymore. Gosh!"
Becky had smiled to herself at the time, but she wasn't smiling now. There was a definite look of concern on the older woman's face as she drew closer to Becky, who stood now with her hands behind her, hiding her pilfered prize.
"What do you have there, my dear?" the shopkeeper inquired, a stern look on her face.
"N-nothing!" Becky offered nervously.
"Don't fib, dear." Mrs. Wilson ordered. "Hold out your hand."
Becky tried the ancient stall, holding out the empty hand for examination. The woman gave her a reproving look, followed with the sharp command,
"Both hands, right now." Her foot tapping the floor, she was growing impatient. Realizing she was done for, Becky's heart sank as she held out the candy, looking guiltily at the floor and blushing with shame.
"Well." The woman said flatly, taking the candy from the girl's outstretched hand. "Did you intend to pay for this?" Becky shook her head sadly, on the verge of tears. "I - I can't, Mrs. Wilson." The girl admitted ruefully, a single tear running down her cheek. "How very pretty she is." The older woman thought. Even in tears, Becky was lovely, with soft brown hair framing a classically cute face, with a youthful body beneath, on the threshold of womanhood.
"Don't worry, my dear," Mrs. Wilson said meaningfully, "You shall, you shall."
Crossing to the phone on the wall, Mrs. Wilson picked up the earpiece and spun the crank, speaking a few short words into the mouthpiece and waiting, eyeing Becky as she did so. The nervous teenager stood nearby, wringing her hands and shifting from one foot to the other. Thunder pealed again, bringing a renewed downpour. The afternoon light was fading, made even more somber by the dark storm clouds racing by.
"Hello, Amanda?" Mrs. Wilson inquired. "Meredith Wilson. Yes. How have you been?" "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." The woman's face sobered as she glanced at Becky, obviously wrestling with her conscience. "Listen, Amanda...., I have some distressing news. No, no, nothing like that. It's about your daughter Becky." "No, she's all right, but I'm afraid I've just caught her stealing." Glancing again at the now mortified teenager, she nodded as she said, "Yes, that's what I thought, too." "Yes, I believe that would be best." Her voice grew fainter, as she spoke in low tones for several minutes, while Becky strained unsuccessfully to hear. Pausing for a minute, she looked thoughtfully at Becky, then stated firmly into the phone, "All right, Amanda. Don't you worry about a thing, I'll take care of it. Yes. You're welcome. Good-bye."
Hanging up the phone, Mrs. Wilson looked sternly at the pretty girl before her. Becky felt as if she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She tried to summon up an apology, but the words wouldn't come. Waiting miserably, she stared at the floor while the older woman let her stew. Finally, Mrs. Wilson spoke:
"Your mother seems to feel that you need a good licking, and I agree with her."
Becky's head jerked upright at the words, wanting to protest, but unable to.
Mrs. Wilson crossed to the front door and locked it, reversing the sign to read "Closed". Walking back to where Becky stood, she said,
"Come with me, dear." Taking Becky by the arm, she lead her into the rear of the store, into her living quarters. At a less troublesome time, Becky would have marveled at the wonderfully tasteful and ornate furnishings. There was elegance and softness everywhere. Oriental rugs, beautiful table lamps and warm wooden furniture with brocaded upholstery. There was more to Mrs. Wilson than met the eye, Becky thought silently. Suddenly, she wasn't afraid any longer, just ashamed and saddened by her own poor behavior. Sitting on the nicely padded sofa, Mrs. Wilson motioned for Becky to sit down. Pausing for a long moment, she turned to consider the pretty girl's face, holding her eyes for what seemed like an hour to Becky. The silence was broken with a simple statement.
"In just a minute or two, I'm going to give you a spanking."
She looked in Becky's eyes for a sign of fear, and found resignation instead.
"You understand why, don't you?" the woman asked. Becky nodded, replying with a simple "Yes, ma'am."
"Your actions, if not corrected, could result in the most severe consequences later in life. Neither I nor your mother wish to see that happen." Meredith continued, taking Becky's hands in her own.
"The lesson will be painful, but you'll thank me for it, someday."
Becky nodded, tears flowing freely now. Mrs.Wilson released the girl's hands, ordering her "Stand up, dear." The girl stood, now showing some trepidation.
"Turn over my knee." The woman told her, and Becky obeyed, laying across Mrs. Wilson's ample lap. She hadn't been spanked in ages, and this was very humbling to her. Her heart pounding with anticipation, the pretty teenager waited while her skirt was lifted, then felt a cool rush of air as the shopkeeper took her panties well down. Her bottom bared, Becky blushed, her modesty compromised. The blush soon spread to her behind, as Mrs. Wilson's hand smacked it sharply. A slight gasp escaped Becky's lips as the spank landed, stinging her more than she expected. Another spank followed, and another, and after that many, many others, making the poor girl squirm and kick. She cried like a little girl, bawling and sobbing as the older woman's firm palm smacked her bottom endlessly, intent on teaching the teenager a well-earned lesson. Becky's free hand, trying to protect her blazing behind, was held out of reach by Mrs. Wilson's left. There was nothing to do but take it, and take it she did, spank after hard, stinging spank.
At long last, it was over. Becky lay across Meredith's lap, sobbing, while the woman stroked her hair gently.
"There, now," she said. "The first part of your punishment is over." You can get dressed and go home to your mother. I suspect she's very worried about you."
Clothing replaced, Becky composed herself while Meredith Wilson watched with satisfaction. As the well-spanked teenager left, she was puzzled by the older woman's remark: "The first part of your punishment...." Shrugging her shoulders, she headed for home, not very happy about having to face her mother's disappointment over her actions.
The storm had passed, leaving everything fresh-smelling and sparkling. Becky tenderly rubbed her backside, which glowed with an inner heat from the spanking. She thought about what to say to her mother, but found no adequate words. Thoroughly miserable, she mounted the porch steps and went inside.
"Ding-Dong!" the doorbell rang demandingly. "I'll get it!" Becky shouted, walking to the vestibule. Her mother had been very quiet about the afternoon's episode, not having much to say, but showing obvious disappointment with her daughter's conduct. She had nothing at all to say about the spanking, just a thin smile of gratification. Peeking out through the curtains, Becky's heart froze when she saw Meredith Wilson standing on the porch. Pulse hammering, she hesitated, then knowing she had no choice, opened the door.
"H-Hello, M-Mrs. Wilson." She said in a subdued tone, "Won't you come in?"
"Thank you, dear." The woman said, striding purposefully into the hall. She carried a flat box, about three feet long, covered in embroidered velvet. Becky stared at it, wondering if it was a sewing project for her mother. Leading her into the living room, she introduced her:
"Mrs. Wilson, this is my mom."
The shopkeeper regarded Amanda Harmon, consigned to an easy chair, her legs inadequate for use since an accident several years past.
"Hello, Amanda. It's been a long time." The woman said pleasantly. "I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances."
"Thank you for coming, Meredith." Becky's mom said gratefully, and thank you for caring."
The pleasantries done, Meredith Wilson turned to Becky and ordered,
"Draw the curtains, please, dear." As Becky obeyed, the beginnings of real fear began in her heart. "What was Mrs. Wilson up to?" She wondered. Her answer came quickly, as Meredith removed her gloves and hat, then laid the flat box on the sideboard. Watching in astonishment, Becky saw the older woman open the hinged box, taking out a slim and wicked-looking cane, with a crook at one end. It was about two and a half feet long, three-eighths of an inch around, and very flexible. A look like a frightened doe came over the girl's face as she watched the visitor swish the cane. It made a sound that went right through her, from top to toe. Looking at her mother for aid, she found a sympathetic, but resolute expression. It would do no good to appeal to her, she knew. Swallowing nervously, she awaited her fate, trembling in every limb.
"Come here, dear." Mrs. Wilson summoned her, gently. What Meredith had to do was necessary, but unpleasant. Putting her arm around the girl's shoulders, she explained;
"This will be the second part of your punishment. In order for the lesson to work, it has to hurt past the point where you can easily forget it. The spanking I gave you this afternoon was simply a prelude, something to make you think. Do you understand?"
Becky nodded, sniffling, a huge lump in her throat. Meredith Wilson was so kind, even though she was about to hand out a licking. It made Becky want to bawl like a baby. Meredith continued, softly,
"I want you to take off all your clothes. Don't worry," she added, "your little brother has been sent to his room. After you've undressed, I want you to bend over the back of the couch and place your palms on the seat." Waiting a moment to make sure Becky understood, she then announced,
"You're going to get twelve hard, stinging licks with this cane," brandishing the wand for emphasis, "right across your naughty bare bottom." Becky's eyes teared more freely now, as she imagined the awful ordeal. Meredith went on,
"It's going to sting, and burn, and smart like nothing you've ever felt. I'll do my level best to see you feel each and every lick to the fullest. You are to count every lick, loud enough for your mother and I to hear. You are to keep your hands flat on the sofa seat. You are to remain in position. You may cry and kick all you wish, but that is all, do you understand?" Becky sobbed openly, wishing fervently that she had not submitted to temptation that afternoon. Meredith then warned the forlorn girl,
"If you fail to obey my orders, I will start from the beginning. We will continue for as long as it takes, until you've had the full twelve licks, properly received and counted out loud, so I suggest you concentrate on your task."
Becky looked crushed, like a condemned prisoner, staring disconsolately at the floor in front of Meredith, who stood holding the cane in both hands.
"Now undress and take the position I described to you, and be quick about it.", the older woman ordered, giving the cane a swish.
Removing her clothing, Becky soon stood naked before the two women, shivering with the chill air and the fright which beset her. Dutifully and tearfully, she bent across the sofa, her hands flat on the seat. It was very uncomfortable, and she was aware that the skin of her well- rounded bottom was stretched tight. A small moan came from her mouth, revealing her distress. Meredith walked around behind, taking up a position directly behind and to one side of the girl. Becky was dimly aware of a faint whistling sound, and then a firebrand scorched her bottom, bringing a gasping "Ahhhh-owwww!" from her lips. The sting amazed her, taking her breath away. Just in time, she remembered Meredith's orders.
"ONE!" she shrieked, sobbing.
The number had barely left her mouth when the cane bit into her quivering bottom again, right across the part where the legs join it. "Owwww-woww!" "Oh, God!" she howled, then,
"TWO-WOO!" she bawled, her right leg kicking involuntarily from the biting sting.
Desperately wanting to grab her blazing rear, she gritted her teeth and concentrated on keeping her hands on the couch. The cane whipped her bare bottom and upper thighs with a vengeance, striping the creamy smooth skin and leaving behind a deep, burning ache that got worse with each stroke.
Meredith knew her job, taking just enough time to make sure the girl knew when each lick was coming, and felt it to the utmost. A long time later, the full twelve had been delivered. Well before then, Becky had resolved that she would never steal anything again, ever.
The punishment over, Meredith Wilson left, having been thanked by Becky's mother. While applying some cooling salve to the girl's welts, her mother said that she was very lucky, to have someone care about her as much as Mrs. Wilson. Becky never forgot the awful lesson of Meredith and her cane, and they became great friends as well as neighbors. Becky graduated from college, taking up teaching right there in her home town. Mrs. Wilson passed away, and her infamous cane was willed to the local schoolmarm, Rebecca Harmon. It's only rumor, of course, but all the local kids know the truth about Miss Becky and that cane, and they treat her with respect.