Trading Post

Owed

I picked this up after a break, I did change the previous chapter to work with future ones, so here’s the revised last chapter with more to come!   Chapter 19: Thanksgiving When Thanksgiving break arrived, Mia invited Rachel to come home with her to meet her parents. On the long drive, Rachel’s nerves hummed quietly. Mia kept the conversation light at first, then turned more serious as the miles slipped by. “So… you already know my dad wears diapers like I do,” Mia said, eyes on the road. “But there’s more. He breastfeeds from my mom. He doesn’t eat solid food at all—he only nurses or takes bottles. It’s completely normal to me, but I wanted to warn you before you saw it.” Rachel was quiet for a moment. Then a warm, unexpected flutter stirred in her chest. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you for telling me.” Mia exhaled in relief, her own diaper growing noticeably wet. She hadn’t realized how much tension she’d been carrying. A short while later, she pulled into a gas station to change. While Mia was inside, Rachel sat in the passenger seat, her mind spinning with new thoughts.  Thoughts of closeness, of nursing, of wanting. When they arrived, Alex and Alice greeted them with warm, joyful hugs. Rachel immediately noticed the subtle outline of diapers on both Mia and her father. It should have felt strange. Instead, it felt… right. Inside the house, conversation flowed easily until Alex gave Alice a familiar, longing look. “Mia, Rachel… is it okay if I nurse?” he asked politely. “Of course,” Rachel replied, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. “Mia told me. It’s totally fine.” Alice smiled warmly and unbuttoned her blouse. Soon the soft, rhythmic sounds of suckling filled the living room while the rest of the conversation continued as naturally as before. Rachel watched quietly, that same warm wanting blooming deeper inside her. Later that night, in Mia’s childhood bedroom, Rachel curled against her girlfriend. “Hey, Mia?” she whispered. “Have you ever thought about the breastfeeding part of your parents’ relationship?” Mia turned to face her. “Honestly? No. Diapers felt right for me, but that never did. Why?” Rachel hesitated, then spoke softly. “Seeing your dad today… It made me want to try it. With you.” Mia searched her eyes for a long moment, then pulled her closer. “I’m willing to try if you are. I know my mom induced for Dad. I could do the same for you.” Rachel’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “Thank you.” She swallowed. “And… I’d really like to start changing you. Like your mom does for your dad.” Mia grinned, a playful spark returning. “Oh? You want this sexy diapered butt all to yourself?” “Absolutely,” Rachel laughed, already sliding her hand down to cup Mia’s padded bottom. Their laughter melted into kisses, then something deeper. Rachel’s hand found the warm, swollen front of Mia’s diaper and rubbed gently. Mia lowered the strap of her tank top. “Here,” she whispered. “Try.” Rachel latched on, sucking with slow, rhythmic pulls. No milk came yet, but the comfort that washed over her was immediate and profound. Mia stroked her back, eyes half-closed in quiet bliss. “This feels good,” Mia murmured. “It feels right,” Rachel whispered around her nipple. “Welcome to the ‘feels right’ club,” Mia teased softly. “Now you get why I love diapers so much.” They fell asleep like that, Rachel’s mouth gently around Mia’s breast, her hand resting protectively over her girlfriend’s padded hip. The next morning, Rachel woke first. She looked at her sleeping girlfriend, soaked diaper sagging between her legs, and felt a powerful surge of tenderness. She quietly gathered supplies and began changing her. Mia stirred, blinking sleepily. “I must’ve been soaked.” “You were,” Rachel said with a soft smile, wiping her clean with gentle care. “When I’m done, I’m going to help your mom with breakfast.” Mia closed her eyes again, sighing happily. “You’re the best, you know that?” Thanksgiving dinner was everything Rachel had hoped for. The table was filled with traditional favorites, roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. Mia’s grandparents welcomed Rachel with open arms, and were eager to hear about their granddaughter’s first semester of college. Throughout most of the meal, Alex sat close to Alice, nursing contentedly while everyone talked and laughed around him. After dinner, Mia and Rachel helped clean the kitchen and put away leftovers. At one point, Rachel brushed past Mia and discreetly felt the front of her diaper. “Mia… I think you need a change. Can I check?” Mia blushed, the new dynamic still feeling fresh and intimate. Alex caught the moment and gave his daughter a knowing smile. “Hey, I hear it all the time, kiddo. Don’t worry about it. Actually, I think I need a fresh diaper too.” That evening, the family gathered to watch the Thanksgiving classic Planes, Trains and Automobiles. While Alex nursed again, Mia gently lowered her shirt and guided Rachel to her breast. Rachel felt a rush of emotions, excitement, and nerves all flooding together.  Alice glanced over, a little surprised but mostly pleased. “Look at my girls,” she said warmly. “If you ever need tips or help, you know who to ask.” The simple offer meant everything to Mia and Rachel. It was a clear sign of love and acceptance. The next morning, Rachel latched on again as the sun rose, nursing quietly. Afterward, she changed Mia’s heavy morning diaper. “Funny how you always seem to need a change first thing,” Rachel teased. “Shhh… just get to it,” Mia replied, blushing but smiling. Soon they packed their bags and prepared to head back to campus. Mia felt a pang of sadness leaving her parents. Rachel, meanwhile, felt deeply loved and respected in a way she never had before. After tearful goodbyes and tight hugs, the two climbed into the car and drove off, their new life together continuing to grow, one loving, intimate step at a time Chapter 20: Mia and Rachel Get Married Three years later, the couple had graduated college and settled into a small, cozy apartment just outside the city. Rachel had taken full responsibility for Mia’s diapering needs, carving out a dedicated corner of their bedroom with a changing table and neatly organized supplies. In turn, Mia breastfed Rachel multiple times each day. Though Rachel wasn’t fully dependent on Mia’s milk for nutrition, she cherished every feeding for the deep comfort and connection it brought them both. One quiet evening at home, Rachel proposed. Mia was lounging on the couch in nothing but Rachel’s oversized hoodie, her diaper noticeably wet and messy. Rachel approached, knelt on one knee, and took Mia’s hand. “Mia, you make me the happiest person alive,” Rachel said softly. “Will you let me take care of you, and let you take care of me, for the rest of our lives?” Mia’s eyes filled with happy tears. She pulled Rachel into a fierce hug and whispered, “Yes. A thousand times, yes.” On the morning of the wedding, Rachel changed Mia on the bed of their hotel room. She took her time, wiping her gently, powdering her thoroughly, and taping the fresh diaper with loving precision. “You’re going to be my wife in just a few hours,” Rachel murmured, leaning down to kiss Mia’s stomach, just above the diaper’s waistband. “And you’ll be mine,” Mia replied, reaching down to stroke Rachel’s hair tenderly. The ceremony was held outdoors at a lakeside venue, surrounded by vibrant autumn leaves. Close family and friends gathered to celebrate. Alex walked Mia down the aisle, the quiet crinkle of his own diaper hidden beneath his tailored suit. He hugged his daughter tightly before placing her hand in Rachel’s. “You’ve always been perfect, exactly as you are,” he told Mia, voice thick with emotion. The ceremony was intimate and simple. The women exchanged heartfelt vows, rings were placed on their fingers, and the officiant pronounced them married. They sealed their union with a deep, joyful kiss as their families cheered. At the reception, laughter filled the air as friends danced, cake was cut, and toasts were raised. Halfway through the evening, Alice noticed Mia shifting uncomfortably while mingling with guests. She approached quietly. “Time for a change?” Alice asked. Mia nodded, blushing. “Yeah… I need one pronto.” “Meet me in the bathroom down the hall,” Alice said. “I’ll grab your father and I’ll take care of both of you. Rachel looks like she’s enjoying catching up with old friends.” Alice motioned for Alex to join them, and the three slipped away. In the spacious family restroom, Alice laid out a changing pad. Mia and Alex settled side by side on the floor. “Very glad for the help,” Alex chuckled. “Between this suit and your dress, we would’ve made a mess trying to do this ourselves.” Mia laughed along with him as Alice efficiently changed her very wet and messy diaper, carefully holding up the hem of Mia’s wedding dress. Once both father and daughter were freshly changed and powdered, Alice smiled. “Go back and enjoy the party, sweetheart,” she told Mia. “I’m going to nurse your dad, then we’ll join you.” Mia hugged her mother tightly. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.” Left alone, Alice and Alex shared a quiet, intimate moment. Alex latched on eagerly. “I was starving,” he admitted when he switched sides. “I could tell,” Alice said warmly, rubbing his back. “I was feeling so full. This feels much better.” When he finished, Alex gazed up at his wife from her breast. “I can’t believe our little girl got married today. We should be so proud.” The celebration wound down late into the night. The newlyweds were sent off amid cheers and hugs from friends and family. Back in their hotel room, exhausted but glowing, they finally had a moment alone. “Come here, my wife,” Mia said, pulling Rachel close. “I need you to nurse, we’re way overdue.” Rachel didn’t hesitate. She lay down on the bed and latched on with a contented sigh. As she nursed, her hand slowly drifted to Mia’s diaper, gently rubbing the front. “You’re pretty soaked,” she murmured around Mia’s nipple. “I’ll change you after this.” “And help me out of this dress,” Mia added with a laugh. “I love it, but I’m dying for pajamas.” They completed their familiar nightly routine: a final diaper change, soft pajamas, and a show playing quietly on the TV. Rachel eventually drifted off, still suckling at Mia’s breast. Mia carefully eased Rachel’s mouth away, then gently stroked her sleeping wife’s cheek. “I love you,” Mia whispered. Even in sleep, Rachel’s lips continued to make soft suckling motions. The sight filled Mia with overwhelming contentment. Their life together was just beginning, built on deep love, trust, and mutual dependence. She couldn’t wait to see where it would lead. Chapter 21: A New Generation  Three years after their wedding, Rachel and Mia were expecting. Mia gave birth to beautiful twins, Lily and Noah. Pregnancy had been difficult for Mia, but her abundant milk supply and the constant comfort of diapers helped her through the challenges with the support she needed. Once the twins arrived, the new moms settled into a loving, busy routine. Rachel continued nursing from Mia every day, often with one of the babies latched on beside her. Rachel also took on most of Mia’s diaper changes, frequently handling double,  even triple, diaper duty with a smile. Even before the twins were born, Mia and Rachel had spent many evenings discussing parenting philosophies. One principle anchored them both: they would always respect their children’s bodily autonomy and allow them to develop at their own natural pace. The twins grew quickly. One peaceful afternoon when they were three, Noah sat on the living room floor building towers with blocks while Mia nursed both Lily and Rachel. It had become a normal, tender scene in their home. Lily eventually pulled away from Mia’s breast, wiped her mouth, and looked up at her with a thoughtful expression. “Mama, I’m done nursing. I’m big now,” she said matter-of-factly. Rachel unlatched from Mia’s other breast and glanced at her wife. Mia gave a small, understanding nod. Mia smiled warmly at her daughter and stroked her hair. “Okay, sweetheart. You can stop whenever you want. It’s always your choice.” Rachel reached for Lily’s hand. “I’m so proud of you, Lily. You listened to your body.” Lily never nursed again. She had self-weaned at her own pace, and both mothers were deeply proud of the autonomy she had shown at such a young age. Noah, however, was different. When Lily weaned, he showed no interest in stopping. At three and a half, he still nursed several times a day, especially when he was tired or seeking comfort. Mia and Rachel supported him fully and without question. One afternoon, while Rachel was changing Mia on the family changing table, Noah toddled in, his diaper sagging heavily between his legs. “Mommy, change me please?” he asked Rachel. “Of course, buddy,” Rachel said warmly. “Let me finish with Mama first.” She neatly taped Mia’s fresh diaper, then lifted Noah up onto the table for his turn. Later that evening, the whole family cuddled on the couch watching Finding Nemo. During a quiet moment, Mia asked the twins gently, “Do you two want to try using the potty sometime?” Noah shook his head firmly. “No thanks. I like diapers.” Lily looked up. “Not yet. Maybe one day.” “Then diapers it is,” Rachel said with a soft smile. The children were never pressured. The potty was always available, and they were gently invited to try it whenever they showed interest, but the choice remained entirely theirs. Lily gradually began wearing training underwear on some days, while Noah happily stayed padded and completely unconcerned about the potty. As the movie played and the twins nestled closer, Rachel rested her head against Mia’s shoulder, one hand gently rubbing Mia’s padded hip. In the soft glow of the television, Mia looked down at their little family, Lily proudly in her big-girl underwear, Noah content in his thick diaper, both children safe, loved, and free to grow in their own way. Rachel whispered against Mia’s ear, “We’re doing this right.” Mia turned and kissed her softly. “We are. This is our family… exactly as it should be.” In that quiet, perfect moment, surrounded by the gentle crinkle of diapers and the sound of their children’s laughter, both women felt a deep sense of peace.

THE PLOT CONTINUES TO THICKEN, AS A NEW PLAYER BECOMES A PLAYER. Part 4 Fred Dobbs, the hotel manager, watched Jennifer cross the road and enter the YWCA with keen interest.  He was somewhat let down that the woman's daughter had obviously escaped the promised spanking, but, when he saw Jennifer returning and read the determined expression on her face, he was certain that proper retribution was soon to follow. And follow, it did. Before Jennifer had even finished re-crossing the street, Fred had called his subordinate and excused himself for a break.  He slipped upstairs and, using his passkey, let himself into the suite adjoining Jennifer's room.  There was a double-doored connection between the two rooms that, when closed, afforded a great deal of privacy, but, once one of the doors was opened, the sounds from the adjoining room left little to the imagination. He pulled up a chair, leaned his ear to the door, and listened. He didn't have to wait long to be rewarded on his hunch. He heard the entire exchange concerning the computer use and leading up to the moment Barbie's pants were coming down. But what he heard next sent him for a loop. Just as Jenny started to unzip Barbie's pants, Barbie decided enough was enough.  "Look, this just isn't right.  You can't do this!  Jennifer, you simply can't treat your mother like this!" "Oh, you really did it now, Barbie!  What did I tell you about using my first name?" SMACK! SMACK! "Okay!  I'm sorry!" "I'm sorry, what?" "I'm sorry...Mother!" SMACK!  SMACK! SMACK! "Alright, alright alright!  I'm sorry, Mommy!  But, please, just pull my panties back up. They hardly offer any protection, and it's not right for you to see me this way." "If I remember correctly, 'you're never too old for a spanking,' and 'naughty girls get spanked BARE.'  Right?" "Yes, M-mommie!" "Good.  Now, before I start, let's get something straight. You made a deal, and you're going to stick to it, whether you like it or not. I can call Paddywell any time and drop you off there. Got it?  I'm sure they can come up with some ways to make your weekend much more unpleasant than what I have planned for you. So, you behave yourself and act the dutiful, obedient daughter you are supposed to be, or, so help me, Daddy and I will be visiting you   ; on weekends and holidays at Paddywell!" Fred Dobbs was beside himself. The wheels in his brain were spinning. "So, I have two little fakes, do I? Well, we'll just have to see what we can do about that."  As hotel manager, he was of course very familiar with cheating spouses who used the hotel as a love nest, and, with this familiarity, there came a certain amount of boredom, more often than not nowadays.  But here was something new...different...exciting.   It intrigued him and practically demanded he assume a part in this unusual and compelling psychodrama. "Now, Barbie, I'm going to put you over my knee and hand-spank you soundly. If you behave -- and take your spanking like a good little girl -- I may go easier on you, but, mark my words, one sign of obstinacy out of you, and I'm going to take this slipper and give you the tanning of your life, young lady!  Am I understood?" Barbara sniffed back a developing tear, and, with her head down in shame, she replied,"Yes, mommie!" Fred was then treated to quite an audio show. The spanking started slowly at first, and all that was heard was the smacking sounds of Jennifer's hand on Barbie's upturned bottom. But, by the twentieth smack, Barbie was beginning to sound desperate.   Soon, each swat produced a squeal of anguish...and, soon after, sobbing and downright pleading. He yearned to open the inner door a crack and get a look of the goings-on, but he feared discovery and an untimely end to Barbie's ordeal. He was hoping against hope that she would rebel and so suffer the slipper, and, sure enough, the next smack produced a squeal followed by a string of invectives that would have made a sailor blush. "That is quite enough, Jennifer; I AM your mother!" Barbie managed to choke out between sobs. "I will not get back over your knee. This farce has gone on more than long enough!" "Oh, so the little girl decides when she's had enough punishment, then? NOT!  I'm sorry, but you brought this on yourself." Barbie let out a shriek, and a brief struggle ensued, but it ended with the sharp sound of leather on skin. Barbie howled! "Now, about that language! When we get home, you're going to tell Mr. Peepers just how you were properly punished and ask for his forgiveness. If I even think that you are holding back, so help me, I'll let him punish you, himself!" All the while, the sound of tanned leather connecting with female flesh filled the room in counterpoint to Barbie's screams of pain and outrage. "Now, open your mouth!  Yes, that's it, and hold this bar of soap in there. No, don't even think of spitting it out. If you do before I'm finished, I'll start all over again, and I swear you won't have a heinie left to sit on!  Now, let's get on with it!" Fred was thrilled. This pseudo-girl, whom he had thought just a brat, was now getting the licking of her life from her very own daughter, and, he was hearing every detail. Barbie, for her part, was experiencing the worst day of her life. Standing naked from the waist down, she realized that her dampening crotch was right at Jenny's eye (and nose!) level. Then, the spanking! Omigod!  First of all, how could she ever face her daughter again?  And second.... She tried to be brave, but she hadn't counted on Jenny really doing it, really skinning her ass like she had done to her in the past.   She had not counted on the pain. She knew that giving birth to Jennifer HAD been worse than the hand-spanking, but she wasn't so sure about the slippering. She was reduced to carrying on like...well, like a child. She begged, promising anything to stop the spanking...to get out of the deal. And, in the end, she became what she was being punished for seeming: a snivelling brat who deserved everything she was getting. She had even sworn like a stevedore, and now had the soap in her mouth to prove it. It all was so disgusting, and she wasn't sure just how much more she could take. Jennifer was all business. She wasn't going to let her mom off easy. She had a job to do, and her mother had a lesson to learn, and both were going to be accomplished. No, she wasn't hitting her mother with ALL her strength, perhaps, but she wasn't loafing, either. She wanted the lesson to last. After all, how often would she get this chance? Barbie's screams of pain, now muffled by the bar of soap and her constant gagging, eventually died down to a muted sobbing. The smacking sounds continued for a while, but, much too soon for Fred, the spanking eventually came to an end. All in all, it had been a most enjoyable interlude, and he now found it difficult to stand up.  He'd have to take care of that little problem before he could go back to the desk. He heard Jennifer order Barbie to spit out the soap, rinse, and spit again...then go to the corner. He quietly closed the adjoining door and let himself out, quickly making his way to the restroom to relieve his obvious condition, and thence back to the front desk. After a few minutes' corner time, Barbie was summoned to the bathroom.  Jenny had one more humiliation for her: Barbie was going to get shaved. As Jennie prepared and laid out the shaving things, she began to get a squirmy feeling. She had an idea that she was going to enjoy this perhaps more than she should.... Some time later, bare as a baby and pink as a watermelon, Barbie again stood in the corner, mourning the loss of the last vestige of her womanhood.   ******************************       Perhaps half an hour afterward, the manager looked up to quite a delightful sight. Barbie stood at the counter.  Her face was a mask of misery, eyes red and swollen.  She was a girl (well, a woman) in obvious discomfort. She was blushing furiously.  He tried to act as if he had no idea of her condition and looked from Barbie's pained expression to Jennifer's triumphant one. He liked the contrast. "May I help you, young lady?" Barbie colored even redder, if that were possible, and, sobbing and hiccupping, she told her story of woe, including every detail. Fred, of course, knew everything she said was true, yet did his best to seem amazed and sympathetic about Barbie's situation, and he looked genuinely concerned throughout her apology and confession.  But he also, from time to time, expressed disbelief or feigned misunderstanding and compelled Barbie to repeat some of the most humiliating parts. In the end, he assumed a judgmental manner and a patronizing tone of voice. "Well, young lady, I see that your mother has done the right thing and, I hope, has taught you a very valuable lesson.... I can't, however, just write off those computer charges. After all, you DID use it, correct?" Stricken, Barbie turned to Jenny with pleading eyes. Jenny just snapped at her, "Don't you look at me, young lady!  You made the choice -- so deal with it!" Barbie looked back to the manager.  Inside, she was seething. If this had happened last week, when she was in her crisp business suit and wearing her doctor's name tag, this man would have been falling all over himself to grovel at her feet and write off the stupid nine dollar charge. Now, just because he thought her a child, he was making her jump through hoops and treating her like dirt. "But I have no money, s-sir. Maybe I could earn the money...clean some rooms or something." "No, I'm sorry. There are all sorts of hotel regulations about that sort of thing.  Liabilities.... Nope, you'll just have to pay." Jennifer interjected, "Sir, my m- my daughter has been rude and disobedient. She has been properly punished by me, but perhaps what you had said earlier could be of some help. You remarked that discipline should be thorough to be effective. Perhaps if you yourself made certain that the discipline was thorough enough, then you could see fit to waive the fee?" Throughout the earlier spanking, Fred had kicked himself that the rooms did not have surveillance cameras.  But if what she seemed to be implying.... "Well....  It's highly irregular, but I think I see your point. Take the charges out of her hide, so to speak. Not a bad idea. You do realize, however, that I'm on duty and can't leave the desk. She'd have to be punished right here, right behind the counter." Getting your bare bottom spanked in private by your daughter is devastating, but getting it spanked in public by a total stranger that you already totally dislike is worse, especially if it's a bottom that's already so sore that sitting will be a torment for days. Barbie looked back and forth between the two and shouted, "NO FUCKING WAY!" One glance at the look on Jenny's face told her that she had, once again, gone too far.  Jenny reached into her purse and pulled out the slipper and the dreaded soap. "Sir, I believe my daughter will be needing these to pay off her debt!" Fred just smiled and guided Barbie back around the counter.  He pulled a straight back chair away from the night auditor's desk and placed it with its back to the counter.  There was method to his madness. The security camera would capture this Kodak moment for future viewing, and he could relive every bit of this little minx's punishment again and again.  He sat down, his back to the counter, and dragged Barbie to his side. As he began to undo her shorts, she started to protest. He looked to Jennifer and said, tartly, "I believe all spankings should be given on the bare, don't you?" Jenny smiled. "Of course, proceed!" As he slowly and painfully dragged Barbie's pants and panties down over her still-tingling bottom, he began to lecture her. "Now, young lady, I can see from the condition of your little red caboose that your mother did a good job.   It's obvious she truly cares about you. I'm half-tempted to let you off this time, but I feel it would be a wrong for you to miss out on this learning opportunity. So, I'm going to compromise. I'm going to put this bar of soap in your mouth and give you only nine swats of the slipper, one for each dollar you owe. If you hold the soap, the debt will be paid, but, if you drop the soap, we'll start all over again at 'One.' Understand?" Barbie was now pants down, prone across this loathsome man's lap. All she could do was nod her head in agreement and wait for the worst. She didn't have long to wait.  Her butt was already sore, and Fred was a grown man, so the first swat stung so badly that she spit out the soap. "Well, that one doesn't count. Keep that up, and we'll be here all day!" The spanking started again. Barbie was beside herself, screaming, gagging on the soap, and writhing in pain and humiliation.  But now, no matter what, she wouldn't again let go of that hated soap. In the middle of it, a woman came into the lobby and, startled, stood quietly by and watched.  Soon after, a businessman and his wife came in.  They watched four swats before the wife made a disgusted face and left with her husband in tow.  Finally, as the last three swats were administered, a middle-class family of four -- husband, wife, son, and daughter (who would turn out to be 19-year-old twins) -- walked into the lobby and also stood quietly, observing the finish. Jenny had noticed all these arrivals and had smiled at each in turn. Fred pulled the sobbing Barbie to her feet. She was totally oblivious to the fact that she was standing there, pants and panties at her ankles, her hairless crotch on display, sobbing and gently nursing an obviously well-punished behind while a number of people had gathered to watch.  At last, despite her tears and blubbered apologies to the manager, she finally became aware of the onlookers.  She let out a squawk and bent over, trying to hide herself...not very successfully.  For that matter, the spectators had already seen practically all there was to see. Their individual reactions, however, would remain to be seen. Jenny thanked Fred for disciplining her daughter and dragged Barbie back to their room. Barbie was devastated.  All of those people had seen her bare from the waist down...had seen her spanked...and had seen her almost cum in the process.... Meanwhile, the woman that had come into the lobby had actually come to complain about her room -- she had found a gum-wrapper under her bed.   But, as she watched the weeping Barbie limping away, she abruptly changed her mind and decided that everything was just fine after all.  When Fred asked if he could help her, she forced a smile, shook her head, and scurried back to the safety of her room (where she spent some "quality time" with herself). The middle-brow family checked in, somewhat nervously.  As they made their way toward their rooms, the father was overheard to hiss, "You kids, I don't want to hear any more bickering -- and you will not trash this room."  He turned to his wife.   "And this time, you leave the towels and stuff here." The rest of the family chirped unanimous agreement. About a half-hour later, the businessman who had been in earlier returned and inquired as to the reason for the young girl's punishment.  Fred shrugged, smiled, and mentioned it was because of unauthorized use of the room computer.  The man just nodded in approval and checked in.  As he finished, he laid a crisp new hundred dollar bill on the counter and asked, "What time do you get off tonight?" Fred looked at the hundred and then at the man.  "Ten o'clock. Why?" "That hundred says my wife will commit the same offense by 10 tonight, and if her bottom looks like that young lady's by 11, there'll be another hundred for you.  Okay?" Fred nodded, picked up the bill, folded it, and put it into his pocket.  Grinning broadly, he thought, "This is going to be one hell of a memorable night!" Meanwhile, in their room, Barbie was back in her corner. She was furious with Jenny for subjecting her to such public humiliation -- and with that wretched man, too.  And she was certain the threat about Mr. Peepers was not an idle one.   Of course, she was also afraid of getting another damn slippering if she stepped out of line.  She spit...again. She knew she'd be tasting soap for days. How had she gotten herself into this mess? Jenny, in the meantime, was thinking about dinner and decided that they would eat in the hotel. So, about 7 p.m., the two made their way to the dining room, which was just off the lobby. Barbie was mortified; her bottom was so sore that she had been forced to bring along one of the large foam pillows from the bed.  She quickly put it on her chair -- out of sight, she hoped -- and gingerly lowered herself onto it.  But it took several minutes of fidgeting and a stern threat from Jenny of another public spanking to finally get Barbie to sit still and look over the menu. She chose inappropriately, however, and Jenny had to correct her order from lobster, etc. to mac and cheese, a peanut, butter sandwich, milk, and jello. Whether it was the hours of crying, or the energy she had expended struggling through her spankings, Barbie was famished. The kiddie's meal was almost too much for her to bear.  She was just about to cry. Jenny looked at Barbie and, with the cold conviction of a mother who knows what's good for her daughter, ordered her to sit up straight, quit acting up, and eat her meal. Barbie grudgingly sat up and ate her kiddie food in silence. The family of four that had witnessed the spanking came in just as Jenny and Barbie were finishing.  The boy saw the pillow first and pointed it out to his sister.  She giggled and told her parents. Soon the whole family was rudely gawking at Barbie, and she knew it. "Mom, can we go?  They're laughing at me." "Now, Barbie, if you hadn't misbehaved, they would have nothing to laugh at.   Besides, it's probably good for them to see what happens to kids when they're naughty. Gosh, you act as if they'd never seen someone get spanked before." Truth be told, they hadn't, until today.  In fact, they had never been spanked themselves. Unfortunately for both them AND their mother, that condition would soon change.  If no one else had been favorably impressed by the show, the father certainly had been, and he used what he had learned on all three of his family that very same night.  And the night after. The drive back home was the quietest and pleasantest part of the trip. After Jenny finished her surf n' turf, she lingered a while over after-dinner coffee while Barbie just sat and stewed.  She asked permission to go pee, but that was denied. Another cross to bear. She knew that all those people thought she was just a naughty little girl who was getting exactly what she had deserved. If they only knew the truth, that they had witnessed a full-grown, professional woman spanked on her bare bottom, they would have been flabbergasted. She hated the way they looked at her and smiled their superior, knowing smiles.   They were relishing the thought of her sore, red behind.  She mentally relived what that bastard manager had done to her and squirmed at the memory.  He had had spanked her so hard, and he'd enjoyed it. His thick hard-on had pressed against her stomach...and she wondered, momentarily, what it might look like...if it was really as big as it had felt. He had spanked her mercilessly, and then had the gall to wink at her as she and Jenny passed the desk on their way to dinner. Barbie hated the fact that she had been manhandled so easily, both by him AND by her own daughter.  But, even more, she hated "corner time."  That half-hour standing in the corner was awful.  It seemed endless, and endlessly boring, with nothing to do but re-live the pain and humiliation over and over again. Though, if it was such torment (and it WAS), why was she so wet between the legs? No!  She refused to think about that. Besides, some of this -- much of it -- was sort of her own fault. She knew that she should have been able to act with maturity -- for example, to watch her tongue rather than cussing out Mr. Peepers like a common guttersnipe.  She also knew that she deliberately called Jenny by her first name in a stupid attempt to prolong her superior status, and she had intentionally chosen to use the computer knowing it would leave Jennifer no option but to punish her. She had to admit that she had misbehaved.... Yes, just like a naughty child, she had "asked for it" and had gotten it. Ever since this damn arrangement had begun, she had been acting more and more viscerally and less rationally. She knew from training and experience how to analyze problems and manipulate people. Why couldn't she seem to utilize those skills now? Was she reverting to adolescent behavior just because people were expecting it of her?  Or was there a darker reason? All this actually hurt worse than either spanking.  Later, after she had been put to bed, she continued to stew about it, fruitlessly, and finally cried herself to sleep....

I'm Chris my little is 4 my middle is 11 I'm abdl ask away looking for a full time mommy

Finger licking I'm sure ?