The Magic Boxx stories.

[cute little kokiri girl]

Hey there everyone I'm here posting another group of stories here, also a little bit of an edit here/revision I forgot to mention that the magic boxx was originally owned and some of the stories were collected and some were written by person named Alec Leamus, the magic box was originally was not really an abdl site it was a place for AR mistaken identity, some of the stories I feel do have some abdl theming.

Anyway I'm posting the stories I can gather that were on that site on here just like I did with the Baby Tali Stories. But here's the thing I may need your help if you know a story that was on that site or if you know where I can find some of those old stories I encourage you to DM me or post those stories on here. And finally like with the Baby Tali Stories I am not the author of any of these stories, I am simply a guy trying to do story preservation so these stories don't get lost to the sands of time that is the internet, so if there's a story that ends on a cliffhanger or there is a story you don't care for there's nothing I can do.

[cute little kokiri girl]

Alice’s Second Chance, Alice’s second childhood.

By derry.

PART 1 

Mom was a good woman. Dad is a good man. Yet my little sister, Alice was, by age 18, a total spoiled brat and a delinquent. She could easily also have ended up being a killer. It is certainly arguable that she deserved to be sent to jail.

Now Mom did not believe in hitting children and she did not. She did, however, understand that the word ‘NO’ needs to be heard and understood by children. She never hit me but I knew what was right and what was wrong. I knew that I could not have everything I want. I guess I might have preferred a brother but I was quite happy a few weeks after my 10th birthday when Dad said: “Roberta you’ve got a little sister, we’re calling her Alice Joan.”

I do not have a conscious memory of my early childhood. I think, however, that maybe Alice got more of her way than I did. I do not think I was jealous. However even by the time Alice was six I thought there were worrying signs. Then it happened. Mom was in a bank. Someone tried to rob it. A frightened security guard did not aim properly. Mom died. I carried on my education. I was already doing well. I got both athletic and academic scholarships so I was able to get to college and do well in Computer Science without any special help from Dad.

It is true that Mom’s death caused real trauma to little Alice. It wasn’t a picnic for me. Dad reacted by trying to be nice to his little girl. I seemed to be coping so was left alone. So little Alice got everything she wanted.

I do not know how many au pairs they got through. I think that, by the age of 10, Alice had in effect the ability to sack a hard working adult who did good house keeping but tried to set limits. I later heard that from age 14 to 17 Alice had minor scrapes with the law. Dad was always able to talk the cops or the prosecutor out of causing any real consequences for Alice.

My aunt Christine, who taught in a state where the paddle is allowed in school, had often said: “Alice needs to be spanked, spare the rod and spoil the child.” When I was 16 and Alice 6, I thought my Aunt was crazy. By the time I was 20 and Alice age 10 was being a total brat I thought that maybe Aunt had a point. I was at college by then. It was at college that I got my first experiences of spanking. I thought that to get on, I needed to pledge this fashionable Sorority. Part of the initiation was submitting to a spanking, in front of some Sorority sisters. I wanted status and popularity so I let I happen.

I did not like the idea of being spanked, but I thought that the advantages of Sorority membership were worth it. It was MUCH worse than I thought. For a start there were over 40 drunk or high college girls there to watch. The next thing was that Jane Graham, one of the few women I have ever met who was both taller and stronger than me, took charge. She unbuckled my belt and pulled down my pants. Next she sat on a chair that had clearly designed mainly with across the knees spanking in mind. Next Jane told me to put my hands behind my back.

I obeyed her.  I had heard as rumour that this ‘bondage’ was a part of the ‘initiation’. I expected a token effort. I was wrong. Ms Graham tied my hands very tightly indeed. I actually thought that this discomfort would likely be worse than the actual spanking. I turned out to be wrong The next bit was a huge shock. My panties came down too. I said:

“Hey I never said you could do that, Stop!” My words were ignored. One hand firmly held one of my pinioned arms, I still felt unsteady and unsafe. The first few spanks, with Jane’s hands hurt a bit more than I expected. Then she picked up a huge heavy hairbrush. WHAP! It hurt like hell. WHAP it hurt more. I started struggling and kicking but, strong and athletic though I was and am it was useless. Inside a minute I was actually crying. I think she carried on the spanking for about three more minutes.

I was VERY glad when it was over. I found out that nobody was allowed to pledge this particular sorority until they had been persuaded to really cry during a spanking. At the time of my spanking I doubt that the hairbrush had ever been used to brush hair. Now I am strong and athletic. I keep my body in a good state. So when Ms Graham moved on I got nominated to take charge of the spankings. Most of the kids who were pledging were really nice. I found it hard to put all my strength into hurting them. A few were incredibly arrogant and I actually found I LIKED hurting those girls.

The next year I left the sorority. I had spanked a dozen new pledges. This was normal. After the spanking, new pledges had to recite a long oath. Now one girl, Amy, had a speech problem. She failed to recite it properly. I was told to spank her again. I did. Then Amy tried again to speak the words. She again failed. I was again told to spank her. She was already crying. I felt a third spanking of Amy would be cruel and unfair. Forty or fifty sadistic co eds yelled for more. I was not prepared to do that.

I walked out of the Sorority House never to darken its doors again. I held Amy’s hand. I also took with me the hairbrush. It was an incredibly heavy wooden thing. It had plainly been made mainly for hurting rather than tidying hair. I got the back of the Sorority hairbrush disinfected. I then found myself using the hairbrush to, err brush hair. I attended all my sister’s birthdays. Until she was about 15, brattily though she BEHAVED, my little sister LOOKED quite adorable.

She has those girlish freckles and cute, curly red hair. She was always a pleasure to see. She combined an angelic face with devilish behaviour. Then it all changed. Alice wanted to be called A-J, rather than her real name. When I saw her at the party ‘A-J’ was all ‘Goth’. She got her hair treated to be straight. She had it dyed jet black. Then she got into make up. Most of her face was made up as very white. However the make up around her eyes was blood red. Her lipstick was jet black.

A-J had her lower lip pierced. The jewellery she wore on her lower lip and ears were solid silver skulls. Most of her clothes were also jet black. She usually wore black pants. However sometimes she had a short black skirt and blood red stockings or panty hose. Dad had some financial problems. Some of it was the amount of money he had lavished on meeting his little girl’s every whim. He looked like he might go bankrupt. Alice got very poor SAT scores. She was not to graduate High School.

She did not seem to know what she would do. I need you to understand that Alice did not have a learning disability, except maybe laziness. She was allowed not to bother so she did not bother. It all changed one April day. I am shocked that Alice was able to buy booze so easily. Despite her efforts with push up bras she had rather modest breasts.

Mom and dad made an interesting looking couple. She was just under six foot. He was just over five foot. By the time she was 18 Alice and I were in some ways more remarkable. I am just OVER six foot and Alice just UNDER five foot.

Alice had access to Dad’s SUV. Given her height, even with skyscraper footwear, it was amazing that any bar would admit her but she managed to get lots of beer. God was smiling on Patrick and James Holly that Sunday afternoon. Patrick was on a bicycle with his 1 year old son at the back. They had no chance of seeing the car Alice drove far too fast, the wrong way on a one way street... Alice actually drove her car off the road into a field. She hit the front wheel of the cycle.

Patrick and James were thrown off. Luckily there was lots of cut grass. Their injuries were slight. Alice could easily have died herself but she was helped out by a cop before the car exploded. When she was arrested Alice was, as usual, dressed Goth. She had black pants and a black sweater. This time her lipstick was red, but incredibly vivid blood red.

The silver skull stud was still in her lips. The rest of her face was made up white as a sheet and her hair died black as coal. Her bra was designed to give an impression that she had more than was the actual case. Silver skulls also dangled from her ears. I heard that her lawyer had difficulties in getting Alice to change her appearance for her trial, or rather her guilty plea.

I saw her there. She looked about 14, maybe younger, and very innocent. It shows how misleading appearance can be. Now Patrick Holly, the adult victim, deeply believed in his view of Christianity. He urged forgiveness. So Alice was only sentenced to ‘time served’ about 5 weeks, plus a 7 year driving ban. Still of course Alice had a felony conviction.

Her brief period in jail prevented her High School graduation. She had zero prospect of college and very little of getting any reasonable job. Dad’s debts meant that he had to sell his home. He found a job at a small hotel in Montana. It included accommodation, but not for Alice, who was still calling herself  A-J.

[cute little kokiri girl]

Part 2

I was doing okay. I had just bought house jointly with Aunt Christine, mom’s brother Bob’s widow. I was making reasonable money but property prices were very high in the town I worked. Plus Christine had just found a new teaching job in the same place. It made sense.

The day we signed the papers on our new home Christine told me of her lovely visit with her friend Brian, a divorced father and his incredibly tall, clever and cute 11 year old daughter, Molly. We had nice home and good jobs. Alice, on the other hand; was a homeless, jobless and desperate ex con. She asked for my help. I felt she had caused her own problems.

Yet I could not say ‘no’ to my desperate sister, despite her behaviour. So she moved in. Christine and I made it clear that we expected her to find a job. A-J lost her first waitress job and did not seem to be working too hard to find another. Her room was a tip. She was acting like a total brat for the first week of that summer.

I was relieved that she gave up the ‘Goth’ image. However, she quickly found an almost equally frightening alternative. It was the ‘bimbo’ look. Her bras were even more pneumatic. Her beautiful red curly hair had already had all the black dye taken out. However she again arranged the hair to give a false impression of height. And it was again dyed, this time blond. The bimbo look was less unpleasant to look at than the Goth version.  

I feared she was more likely to get herself pregnant (or be it with male help.). Her skirts and dresses were always well above the knees. She wore stockings more often than pantyhose. Christine was studying and preparing for her new post as deputy Principal at the local Junior High. She was hoping to write a book. One Tuesday things seemed to be going wonderfully. I thought that Alice was finally going to take responsibility.

I was going able to save the extra cost of gasoline. Not that this was high, what with my hybrid car. Christine drove me in to the next town. But first we had to go to get Alice to the bus stop. If she was going the same way we were I would, of course, have driven her all the way. I had given ‘A-J’ money for her lunch and the bus fare so she could look for a job. I was hoping she would start to learn adult responsibility. She was indeed dressed as a modest, sober job seeker when I dropped her at the bus stop. For instance her skirt went well below her knees.

Christine did some research with actual books and doc-uments at a local library. I did computer work. A job I thought would take 6 hours was over in less than half an hour. Christine had also found the information she wanted quickly. So we had a lovely lunch. During the lunch I met a lady I knew. She was Dr Mina Shah. Mina worked both as a General Practitioner and a Paediatrician.

Just before I left for college Mina had treated both me and little Alice. She asked about Alice. I told the good doctor that Alice had behaved very badly, but that I thought that she had now learned her lesson. Then Christine remembered a lovely old movie in the listings for the TV that afternoon. So we drove home looking forward to a pleasant, relaxing afternoon. Christine and I were feeling good as we drove home.

As soon as we reached the house we had the first shock. Christine’s car was gone. It had sentimental value for my aunt. It was also a classic with some financial value. My new home mate was very smart but not wonderfully organized. She literally did not remember the licence plate number. She was asked about it by the cops when she phoned. She agreed to ring them back. CRASH!

I heard loud noise loud noise. My Prius had been rear ended in the driveway. I wondered about the damage. Then I saw Christine’s classic car, also a little damaged. The driver’s door of Christine’s car opened. Out came A-J. She was NOT dressed for a job interview, well not for any job I’d want her to apply for. Her dress scarcely covered her butt. I saw a man who seemed well into his 20s get out of the passenger door.

I was incredibly angry. I thank fate, God, or whatever for something on the table. It was my hairbrush. I saw it just as the front door was opening. For 7 years I had used the implement I had taken from the sorority for my hair. Now I decided to return to its original use. I yelled as she opened the front door. ]“You stupid little brat. You know it won’t be legal for you to drive for years. How could you?”

Then I took full advantage of being the stronger and bigger as well as the older sister. I dragged Alice to the sofa and across my knees. I did not need to pull her skirt out of the way. It was so short that my target was clear. In a second Alice’s sensual sexy panties were around her knees. Then I too hold of her hands with one hand and grabbed the hairbrush with the other.

“What are you doing you …?” A-J could not think the right word. “I’m going to SPANK my naughty LITTLE sister. Something that’s long overdue.” The young man saw the first half a dozen blows. He saw Christine who had come down stairs. The man said: “I’m sorry, if I’d known she was that young I’d have never kissed her.” He then left. Within a minute Alice was crying and kicking desperate to escape.

“This is child abuse, you can’t…” I ignored it and the spanking went on for half an hour. She was almost out of tears when I finished. She was also totally defeated. “Now, go to the corner, and leave your panties where they are. Oh and keep silent!” Alice obeyed. Then I talked to her. “Now Alice Joan you are 18, so what I did could not be child abuse. If you want to call the police, that’s fine. I think I will get a fine for a minor assault. But you, well you’ll go to jail for driving illegally and using a car without permission.”

From that day, Alice’s life then changed totally. We did some research. Firstly we removed most of her intimate hair. Then we found a specialist bra shop. A-J had worn bras designed to give maximum emphasis to her chest. All those bras were given to a good will shop. Instead we found ‘training bras' tending to flatten her front. We also found folk who would fill in the ear (and other) piercings.

During those trips Alice wore rather childish pink overalls. They turned out to be a disadvantage when I needed to take her into the lady’s room to get to the bottom of a tantrum she was throwing. For the big shopping expedition we chose Saturday because we knew it would be crowded. Except when we were in the car or Alice was actually in a bathroom stall either Christine or I held Alice’s hand very firmly.

A lot of the time we both held hands with her. In department store after department store I came out with this line: “Alice is tall for a 9 year old, but still very childish. I am worried about her getting precocious. I think she thinks she should be treated as an adult. It’s not as if she’s mature for her age. Have you any suggestion? Think 7 rather than 11.” The 18 year old, dressed in pink elasticised pants and a pink sweatshirt just stayed silent.
 

[cute little kokiri girl]

Aunt Christine and I had taken our freckled little girl to a half a dozen shops and found quite a few suitable outfits for her. At the very last shop we visited we found an amazingly helpful, if very young, shop clerk. Norma Johnson was an African American who looked like she was still at school. She suggested a sailor type dress. It was sized for my sister but was not likely to be the first choice of many girls over the age of 4. It was quite short. I wondered whether we would get away with it.

“Do you have a fitting room for children?” Norma Johnson, who was indeed schoolgirl with her first Saturday job, smiled: “Well, they’re mainly for grown ups but I’d like to see how this young lady looks so I’ll take you there.” The room was bigger than I expected. It allowed the lady trying things on to be looked at by a friend or two before committing herself to the extent of going into the store in whatever it was she was trying on. Christine helped a reluctant Alice into the new dress.

I liked what I saw. Alice did look cute in the short childish frock. Christine took a photograph. It looked really amazing. I stood next to her. I wore heals and my hair right up. Together with my natural height advantage we really looked like a mother and a rather young daughter. The sales lady came in. “You look like a really nice little girl Alice. If your aunt buys you pretty dresses like this there is no risk of YOU growing up too fast, despite being so tall for a 9 year old.”

The clerk remarked. There was a slight problem. Christine saw it more clearly than I did: “Yes, but there’s something that worries me. The dress is so short. People get glimpses of her cute heiney and panties. Now there are so many men who have quite the wrong idea of little girls.” I was thinking along the same lines. There was an element of truth. I had a suggestion:

“Christine is right. It does suit Alice, but some guys see short dresses as sexual. Could it be in the same style, but just a little longer?” The clerk had another idea: “I see your concern. I have an idea, can you give me a minute.” The lady went out. She came back with some tights. They were pink and ribbed. Christine and I smiled. They seemed an ideal solution. Alice’s reaction was different “Are you blind you f****ing, n*****, bitch. I’m not a baby, I won’t wear toddler clothes.”

I was secretly pleased that her performance was so like a toddler, even including Alice stamping her feet. Christine apologized. “We are really sorry. We do not tolerate that kind of behaviour or language.” I noticed a bolt on the door and pulled it locked. We were going to need some privacy. Then I looked at my still angry 18-year-old sister. “Alice I think you have something to ask.”

“Not here, not in front of…” In thirty seconds I grabbed my sister, found the comfortable chair and had her across my knees. Up went the short skirt of her dress. Down came her panties, the ones with Minnie Mouse cartoons on them. Out came my hairbrush. There was one last bit of defiance: “You CAN’T, not here.” Then with all my strength I landed three heavy whaps on her bottom. She started to cry. I carried on with the whaps for about ten minute.

“Now young lady, stand in the corner there. Hold up your dress and leave your panties round your knees, then have you something to ask Christine.” The place had mirrors placed so that you could see how you looked from the back. We adjusted one. Alice could quite clearly see her pale pink left buttock and the other cheek as red as a rose. The clerk suggested that Christine and I try on some adult stuff so we could keep the dressing room. This worked out quite well. She also remarked:

“I wish a few more Moms were as good as you at letting kids know what is acceptable.” After the 4 minutes of corner time I told Alice: “You know what you deserve for defying your elders. I think you have something to ask Aunt Christine.. Alice obeyed, she asked: “Aunt Christine, I’ve been VERY naughty please spank me very hard.” Christine is left-handed. She borrowed the same heavy former sorority hairbrush. Again the 18 year old cried. After another 4 minutes of corner time. I said to Alice:

“Tell Ms Johnson here what happens when you use naughty words.” The subdued 18 years old said: “My mouth gets washed out with soap.” I said: “Since it was Ms Johnson here you were so nasty to, I think you should ask her something.” “Pretty please, will you take me to the rest room and wash my mouth out with soap?” Norma had a problem: “I would love to do it, but maybe not on company time.”

I gave her our address and phone number. “So if you came about half past seven, Alice would just be ready for bed. Then she could have the soap taste to remember all night.” Alice left the shop in her new dress and tights. We bought more in the same style. Dressed as she was and without any money or ID we felt that we no longer needed to physically hold her hands.

We found a children’s play area. Alice had to pretend that she really enjoyed using swings, slides and things like that. Maybe she did. Christine and I kept a good eye on her and we discussed our plans. “You know my Jane Alice would be 10, if she had not died.” I remembered. I had felt really sorry for my aunt who had lost her only child and her husband in the same year. At 49 she would now have little chance of having another baby.

The two girls had Alice in their name because of an ancestor who had been a real heroine in the 19th century not only fighting for suffrage but also teaching former slaves in Mississippi (a very dangerous job.) “So we could pretend she was the other Alice. She could start school as a 10 year old. She’d be believable. And she still has an incentive to get people to believe it.

“But I do not think we should tell her about our plans. And I know that Brian worries about Molly. She is very mature and responsible, but she is 11. He wonders how he’ll manage. Well my job does not start until fall. If Alice came with me I could keep an eye on both. I think it would be good to tell Molly that Alice is 9.” I had Alice Joan’s school reports from 8 and 10 years earlier. They showed her as being a potentially bright child who was lazy, disobedient and difficult.

Frankly they seemed to suit her very well. They were hand written, and not well. So changing the appearance of the years concerned was not hard. Christine, of course, still had Alice Jane’s birth certificate. It was not going to be hard to get the 18 year old admitted to 4th grade, if she seemed mature enough. But these were plans for the end of the summer.

After letting “the child” have some time “playing” we needed to buy some other things. Principally we needed some suitable soap. I checked on safety issues. There was an effective carbolic soap, which was really good at getting rid of germs and dirt but safe even if kids swallowed a bit. We also bought our child one toy to play with, a Betsy Wetsy doll.

Since Alice had behaved badly she would need to be sent to bed without supper. I ordered HER favourite pizzas, which were delivered. We also had coffee Ice Cream, which both Alice and I love. She stood in the corner silent whilst Christine and I gorged ourselves. Her tights and panties were down enough to show of her heiney, which was still fairly red. Her short dress was pinned up just to make sure. At 7pm it was bath time.

Christine insisted on supervising Alice’s bath time. By 7.30 the 18 year old was washed, dry and in her new ‘jamies, with feet on them and cartoon characters. I found a large plastic bib. I heard the doorbell go. It was Norma Johnson, the shop clerk. I led her straight up to the bathroom. Alice knew what she had to say and she said it. “I used VERY naughty words to you Ms Johnson. I need to be punished. Pretty please will you wash my mouth out with soap?”

Norma managed three applications with a VERY soapy washcloth. Then the child was in bed, to stay until 7am. She was NOT given a chance to rinse her mouth out. We had to organize things quickly. Christine packed what she would need. I packed lots of Alice’s new clothes. I booked the train trip. I double-checked. There were two advantages of going by train. The first was that it would mean that we would cause less pollution than going to Brian and Molly by plane. The other I will come to later.

Christine would stay with Brian for the rest of that summer. I would have to be home by Monday. We had breakfast and left just after 8am. A bit before 9am we had a visit to make. I held my sister’s hand. She knocked on the door. “May I have a word to Ms Norma Johnson?” A lady, her mother or grandmother, had come to the door. She called up “Norma!”

Alice curtsied to Ms Norma Johnson. I should add that I think Ms Johnson probably had just a Saturday job. She would have been 16 or 17. “Ms Johnson, I forgot to say thank you for washing my mouth out with soap. I do thank you. I really needed it and you were very good at it. I also want again to apologise for my language and behaviour.”

During the car journey to the train station I explained the situation: “Alice, for the rest of the summer you are 9. You can be 18 if you want us to call the police about your latest crimes. Now as a 9 year old you will refer to me, as Aunt Roberta and you will talk to your Aunt as Aunt Christine. For other adults you will say Mr or Ms or Dr or Reverend as the case may be.

“You also need to know that my hair brush and the rest of the carbolic soap are in easy to reach hand luggage.” We had reserved three seats on the train. Where we sat there was a little table. Alice was sat next to the window and therefore furthest from the corridor. The train was quite crowded. About half an hour into the trip my sister said: “Bobbi, I’ve got to get up.”

I ignored her. A few minutes later she said “Aunt Roberta, please.” I then whispered into her ear. I made clear what I expected of her. She changed her tone. “Aunt Roberta, Alice needs to go potty.” Christine got out of the outer seat. I took Alice’s hand and held it firmly. I carried a bag in my other hand. She guessed some of what was going to happen.

“Roberta, give me some dignity.” The rest room cubical on the train was relatively large. It was designed to suit the needs of handicapped people if need be.  It was also gave enough space for me to sit down and have Alice across my knees. First I insisted that Alice wash her hands after using the rest room then I said: “Now we need to deal with some disobedience. What have you got to say?”

I looked at her. My efforts had worked. “Aunt Roberta, I’ve been very naughty please spank me very hard.” I lowered to top of the toilet seat. I sat on it. She was dressed again in the sailor dress and tights. I pulled down her tights and then her cartooned panties. I carried on spanking until she cried. After the spanking I said: “Now someone needs to learn to address adults properly. You need to learn what you can say. Just a reminder about your disrespectful tongue.”

I then washed her mouth out with soap. I did not have the time to do as complete a job as Norma Johnson had the night before but I think she realized she would have to be careful of what she said. Once we had returned to our seats I said: “Why don’t you play with the lovely toy Aunt Christine bought?” So she had to spend a lot of the train journey feeding and changing Betsy Wetsy.

I was not able to stay for very long with Brian and Molly. I did have a night train to catch. However I heard some things explained to both of the little girls. “Molly, I know that you are only eleven but your father tells me that you are very mature and responsible for an 11 year old. Alice, I know that you are only a quarter of an inch shorter than Molly but you have been much less mature than most 9 year olds.

“So we are going to have to supervise Alice much more closely. Molly, we don’t want you telling tales for the sake of it but if Alice is difficult or disobedient we need to know. “Molly we know that your father is not sure about whether it is right to hit naughty children and that in any case you have never been REALLY naughty. Unfortunately, for a long time, Alice was VERY, VERY naughty and got away with it. So sometimes her aunt will have to spank her.”

It was Brian who carried on with the explanation “Aunt Christine does love Alice. She does not like hurting her but Alice needs to learn to behave like a responsible child or else she can NEVER be a responsible grown up.” Molly noticed several things. Firstly Christine supervised Alice in the bath. Secondly Alice had a bedtime, 8pm even though it was summer so there was no school. Thirdly that Alice’s footed pajamas were very childish.

Molly and Alice had to share a room. I heard that Molly only teased Alice a little but did enjoy being treated as in charge. We had discussed how to deal with Alice with her father over the telephone. He thought what we were doing was drastic but something drastic had to be done.

[cute little kokiri girl]

I went to collect Alice at the end of the summer. Christine explained: “Our little girl has behaved much better than before. I only need to give her seven spankings and three mouth soapings. I think that Molly was disappointed. She likes it when Alice is naughty because she gets to watch. “Alice has also had to write about five thousand punishment lines.” I had some accounts of what happened over the telephone.

To tell the truth I had found reading out loud very hard. I had to put a lot of effort into it. Alice had also found this hard. Her father had allowed her not to try. Now, Molly found reading out loud easy, easier in fact than ordinary reading. Of course Christine insisted that Alice and Molly take it in turns to read to the younger neighbor kids. It made the short freckled 18 year old feel inferior to the tall 11 year old.

Until that summer Alice had worn disposable contact lenses. She is very short sighted. We stopped buying those. Christine describes finding a particularly patronizing optician specializing in children’s needs. Instead of letters he used pictures of things like teddy bears, elephants, cars. He also offered styles of glasses which emphasized childish status.

Christine told me what she had said to Alice: “If you are a VERY good girl this summer you will get to go back to school. You may even graduate next year.” I arrived on the Saturday morning. Christine remarked: “Alice has been naughty. She borrowed one of Molly’s dresses without her permission. Have you got something to ask your big sister, Alice?”

Alice knew it was easier to ask for a spanking and get 1 than to be spanked for not asking for a spanking and to be spanked again for the original offence. “I’ve been a naughty girl. Pretty please spank me very hard.” Alice had graduated to a jumper style dress. It was more what you would expect for a girl between eight and ten. It went below her knees. She wore ankle socks rather than toddler style tights.

Once I had her in position I took my time pinning her dress and petticoat out of the way and pulling down her panties, still with cartoon figures on them, down to her knees. I noticed her butt. On the left hand you could see some evidence of what had happened over the last few weeks. The right cheek was almost as white as snow. After 10 minutes she was crying like a baby. Her right bottom cheek was a red as a rose.

We had a big lunch with all Alice’s favourite things. Alice did not get to eat anything; she stood in the corner with her panties around her ankles and holding up her dress and petticoat. We then told Molly her story. “So the naughtiest silliest little girl is really 18.” I smiled and said “Yes, she is. Maybe she should be in jail. And we still might have to call the police.”

Christine then explained: “You know that my own little girl died when she was a baby. My Alice Jane would be 10. She would start fifth grade. I’ve got her birth certificate. “In our school district you graduate from what they call elementary school at the end of fifth grade. We promised that Alice would get to graduate from school next year. She has been relatively good so she will have a chance to graduate from school, ELEMENTARY school, if you get good enough marks in the tests.”

To my surprise it was Brian who informed us of another need to punish Alice: “I understand that you think lying is a particularly bad habit in little girls.” Christine and I agreed. “Alice did you tell the truth when I asked you whether Molly had said you could borrow her dress?" The girl in the corner answered. “No, I did not.” Of course a mouth soaping was called for. I made a suggestion which Molly and Brian agreed to.

So I walked Alice up to the bathroom. I put the plastic bib on her. Molly, not quite 12, sat down on a chair. Alice knelt on the floor. She opened her mouth. Actually I think that Molly’s small hands made her more efficient at washing the lies out of our naughty young lady’s mouth. At the end of the proceeding Alice curtsied, apologised and thanked Molly for what she had done.

The train journey back was without incident. I showed Alice that I had put the heavy hair brush, a wash cloth and carbolic soap into a bag I carried. I put my hand onto the bag a couple of times when I worried. Alice spent the trip reading “Little Women”, “Good Wives” and other sequels in Louisa May Alcott’s series. Alice fitted into 5th grade surprisingly easily. We had some worries about whether she would reliably get to school.

As it happened the elementary school was in walking distance. Usually either Christine, who Alice now addressed as “Mommy”, or I could get her to school. There was one, particularly effective, status reinforcement. It was the fact that we always insisted on firmly holding her hand when we walked her to school. About a dozen other 5th grade Moms also walked their kids to school. Only one other mother insisted on holding onto her 10 year olds hand, and he had some other problems too.

We also made sure that Alice was collected from school and walked straight home. Much of the time Christine was able to do this. She could do her lesson preparation at home. Some days I walked her back. When neither of us could manage we asked Norma Johnson, the shop clerk who so approved of her discipline, to baby sit. One afternoon I was a little late. I heard Alice’s voice amongst other loudly singing:

“Cry baby bunting, Mommy’s gon a hunting…” Then too they yelled “How’s Betsy Wetsy, do you need your dydees changed?” Alice and four other girls were picking on a young girl who was crying. The victim of the bullying was Jessica Walker. It happened that her older brother, George, was in the class that Christine taught. We found out the whole story.

Jessica’s father had become very ill. She was worried he might die. One effect of the stress was bed wetting. A nasty girl called Ann, from Alice’s class saw Jessica’s Mom buying dry nites. Up until that morning we had thought that Alice’s behaviour was improving. I had thought of taking her to the mall as a kind of reward. Now we had found out what a vicious little bully she was that was out of question.

We telephoned George and Jessica’s mother. She agreed to our plans. Christine and I walked Alice to Jessica’s home. She knew what she had to do. She curtsied: “Jessica, I want to say I am very sorry for what I did. I would like you to visit my home at lunch time so you can find out how sorry I am.” George arrived at lunchtime. Just before lunch Alice said:

“I’ve been a VERY naughty girl pretty please spank me and wash my mouth out with soap.” Jessica got to watch whilst Alice went over first my knees and then Christine’s. She also came up to the bathroom and watched the mouth soaping. I had thought that Alice had learned her lesson. As instructed she said to Jessica: “And on Monday I will tell Ms Peters what I did and tell her about Barbara, Ann and Darlene’s role in the bullying.”

Jessica forgave Alice. We decided to let Alice eat with the rest of us. Again on Monday I was the person who was due to collect Alice from school. I saw her chatting and laughing with Barbara, Ann and Darlene in the corridor. I had a question: “Did you have a chat with Ms Peters?” She hesitated. “I err, I was going to but they’re my friends.”

I said clearly: “You lied, that needs to be dealt with here now.” I grabbed her hand and pushed open the girls’ restroom door. “You can’t, not here, not now. PLEASE!” I ignored her pleas. She resisted but it was not hard to get her into position. She was screaming kicking and resisting but the spanking went on. Barbara heard. She encouraged her friends to come in. A first grader also arrived and saw.

Jessica told me what happened the next morning. It as during registration Alice put her hand up. She told Ms Peters, in front of the whole class: “Ms Peters, I have been very naughty. I have bullied Jessica for something she cannot help. I made friends with Barbara, Darlene and Ann who joined in.” Now, as I said, this state did believe in occasional use of the paddle. Ms Peters had not used it before in her twelve years of teaching, but faced with such bullying she consulted the principal. All four girls got paddled.

It got better. I talked to the mothers of the other girls. The other parents did not believe in hitting kids. However each of them wore a t-shirt the following week saying: “I am a bully and a brat.” Best of all it meant that Alice had to find more suitable friends. One morning Alice insisted that she was very ill and could not go to school. I thought she was lying. I decided to take her to Dr Shah. I had phone ahead and was told that it would be okay. We had to wait most of the morning in a waiting room full of crying babies and their mothers.

The first thing the doctor said to my baby sister once she was sitting down in the office was: “I need to take your temperature…” Alice opened her mouth, reluctantly. “Not that way. You had better lie on your front.” She folded her arms and shut her mouth. I lifted her legs so that she went onto her back on the soft flat examining area; I pulled her cartooned panties out of the way. It was just as if it was time for a diaper change. This meant that the good doctor could do put the thermometer in the correct place for an immature person.

I thought I had turned things around Alice graduated elementary school. She was not at the top of her class. But well there were some very smart people in that class- for instance Jessica Walker. I guess she tried harder than her first effort at graduating elementary school but she still did not have the love of learning that I would have liked to see

Christine and I also insisted that Alice took her share in household chores. We were worried about too much water consumption so we did not buy a dish washer. Since Alice could not drive to the market and frankly could not be trusted to cook she did a lot of the dish washing. She also now knew that her bedroom would be regularly inspected. Alice also learned the proper use of an iron and a vacuum cleaner. She once said:

“You’re rich, why don’t you hire an au pair?” That caused one of the few spankings she needed the following spring. Children should NOT criticize adults and juvenile delinquents have no right to criticize anyone. I was making a lot of money. I was able to help Dad start a new business two towns away. He came to visit his daughters quite often. He never failed to say:

“Alice, you are incredibly cute.” When she once complained I bought a set of prison orange jump suits. Alice decided that Mary Janes and jumpers looked better on her. Alice did well in Junior High. We had chosen a small school which sometimes allowed kids to skip a year. To be fair to Alice, as she approached her 21st birthday, she was less boy obsessed than the other girls at the school. She did more school- work than other girls. (Nearly all the boys did as little school work as possible.)

The plan was that the year of her 21st birthday my sister would graduate from Junior High. We had made plans for her to be at a High school in a slightly different area. We did not want people to notice how little she was growing. I was glad we had a lot of money for another reason. I met a guy called Victor, during a business trip to England. I had thought he wanted marriage. It turned out that Victor wanted mainly to be a daddy. Although his condition did not impair sexual and reproductive functions Victor had barely a year to live.

Victor got to see Victoria. He only lived 3 weeks after her Christening but I was glad I planned to take a few years with my daughter rather than working outside. That summer I found I had to supervise two babies. Dad had done some research. He found a genuine and apparently safe medical process for helping breasts to grow. That was to have been Alice’s 21st birthday gift.

As things turned out quite different gifts were bought. As it turned out Alice would need to be treated that summer as MUCH less mature. Thinking back maybe Victoria was part of the reason for Alice’s regressive attitude, which we were to find out about. My own boobies, though larger than Alice’s had been less than impressive. Of course they got much better in preparation for Victoria’s needs.

[cute little kokiri girl]

Christine and I chatted about her ‘daughter’ Alice. She had a morning in. I was spoon feeding Victoria who was approaching her first birthday. Alice, along with the other children at the Junior High had taken the tests. She would indeed graduate from Junior High. I had found a High School where she would not be known. The ‘tall 11 year old’ would seem like a short 16 year old. All would be well.

I explained my feelings: “I have to say that sometimes I liked spanking Alice. I do not feel good about that, but on the other hand I think overall we have done a good thing. If we had done nothing Alice would have ended up in jail.” I have to confess that I was concentrating too much on my aunt and had forgotten how long I had left Victoria in the High Chair. I had stopped feeding her some, truth to tell, not very appetizing looking baby food.

Christine was about to go out. She had a job interview for Principal. Victoria pushed a bowl right onto Christine’s smart grey interview suit. It got worse. Victoria laughed and so did I. Luckily Christine just had the time to change. Then everything changed! I got a phone call from the school. Alice had been the ring-leader of a huge food fight. It also turned out that she had sold several of her friends vodka and hard cider.

Half of the girls in the graduating class were drunk. All the domestic staff, many students and several teachers had been assaulted with various items of food. Alice was VERY drunk. Christine had, quite rightly, turned off her cell phone because she had the interview. By the way I think that Alice was the only student in her year forbidden such a device. I drove to the school. I found it quite hard to get my very drunk daughter into the back of the car.

There was one bit of good luck. Brian and Molly had moved to our street. Molly was not going to start her new school until the fall so she could keep an eye on Victoria. Just after six that night I had sorted out Victoria. She had thrown up on her baby grow and soaked her cloth diaper. I was, of course, used to dealing with an infant approaching her first birthday. I went into see my soon to be 21 year old sister. She too had thrown up and wet her clothes and her bed.

The school did not want publicity. It was agreed that the delinquents would be allowed a graduation certificate but not to go to the ceremony. A report of their behaviour would be put on their permanent records. Also they would each have to personally apologise to the individuals they had thrown food at.

Alice Joan’s 21st birthday was in May 16th. We had originally planned it as a real celebration. For sure few 21 year old needed to be ready for occasional mouth soaping and spankings. On the other hand she had far more prospect of graduating not only High School but also, eventually, from college and finding a job than seemed remotely imaginable 3 years earlier.

Before the drunken food fight, we had planned to pay for a long vacation. Dad’s new business was going quite well. He had researched an effective and safe means of her growing her breasts, one of the things that most embarrassed her. Of course after what she had pulled in April that would be out of the question. Just after breakfast on May 16th we gave Alice some gift cards.

They contained the copies of certificates for what she would have received had she behaved well. Included were vouchers for a trip all over America and the breast treatment. All were stamped CANCELLED! I then said: “You won’t have the presents we were going to give you, but we have bought you lots of gifts.” I handed her the first gift. She opened the package.

“Thank you, but why would I need so many towels?” I should explain that Victoria’s British aunt had sent me three dozen ‘terry nappies’. They are the British type of old fashioned cloth diaper. They are basically 24 inch square towels. “They aren’t exactly towels, these go with them.” She opened the small package with large safety pins. “And these.” The waterproof baby panties, in Alice’s size with an allowance for the bulk of the diapers, were transparent.

“I will NOT put diapers on.” Christine then explained things: “You don’t have to. Of course babies do not diaper themselves. However 21 year old brats need special treatment. What do you say when you have been defiant?” Alice curtsied and asked for a spanking, Christine and I both obliged. During her corner time the door bell went. In came lots of young ladies. Molly was in front. Another new guest was Jessica. A dozen victims of the fight were there. They included Rosemary, a 12 year old.

As soon as the girls arrived I pulled a string. Down came a huge poster saying: “Alice’s baby shower.” Molly had opened a large gift. It was a diaper changing table. As luck would have it little Victoria’s diapers were also slightly damp. I changed my daughter’s wet diapers. Just before I started I lifted my 21 year old sister onto the larger changing table.

At the same time as I was unpinning Victoria’s single, slightly damp diaper Rosemary took charge of Alice. Molly lifted Alice’s legs. Rosemary slipped a diaper folded into a kite shape under Alice’s ass. Then she tightly pinned the diaper in place. Christine then explained: “Because Alice is such a large baby we will need extra absorbency.” Again Molly lifted Alice’s legs. Again Rosemary slipped the second diaper under the 21 year old. It was pinned in place. Then a third followed. On went the plastic panties.

The next gifts were a frock and a pair of blue tights. Alice could see that they were identical to those her little niece was wearing. I guess, with her dress being so short, Alice liked having the toddler style tights covering her new underwear. However the bulge under her tights allowed most people to guess at what was on underneath. “I know how Alice LOVES really SHORT dresses.”

I said as I buttoned her up at the back The next clothing gifts were different to Victoria’s. There were several pairs of mittens. They were so designed that once clipped in place the ‘child’ would not be able to use her hands to say unbutton clothes or unpin diapers or indeed feed herself. Lots of other gifts were bought. There were some adaptations to the single bed Alice had. There were boards at the end and bars for the side. It as turned into a crib. If need be there was also a section which could be sealed on top.

Alice’s bed, now crib was moved into Victoria’s room. “Molly is going to help with babysitting so she will be staying with us. She gets your room.” I explained to Alice. I also told her. “Until Victoria starts walking you will not. You are not to say anything except baby talk. Also your clothing will always match little Victoria’s.” Other gifts included an oversized netting style play pen. It was in a lobster pot shape. From the outside Christine Molly or I could pull a lever and the thing would be four foot or we could raise it to just over six feet.

With Alice’s short stature, her feet covered by the tights and the mittens she was just as safe in her play pen as little Victoria was in the much smaller pen next to her. Our guests joined us in the kitchen with Rosemary babysitting. The television had DVDs of tele tubbies to entertain Victoria and Alice. It was, indeed, Victoria’s favorite. I happened to know that teletubbies deeply irritated Alice. That made it a particularly suitable choice of entertainment for the two of them.

At about half past eleven Rosemary came into the kitchen. “Alice keeps fidgeting and I think that Victoria has wet her diaper.” I came into the front room. Alice said: “Roberta, please, I need to go to the bathroom.” I at first ignored her. Then I leant down and checked Victoria’s diaper. It was indeed a little damp. I talked to my 1 year old. “Who’s a little Miss water works, let's get you changed.”

I rapidly got Victoria out of her only slightly wet diaper and into a clean one. Then I addressed Alice: “I told you that you were to use baby talk. By the way you can go to the bathroom any time you like. BABIES go to the bathroom in their dydees. It is time for your first feed. I have some spare milk that Victoria does not need. I expressed it into a bottle.

“However because you have been naughty and pretended you can use big girl words we will fill your baby bottle with VERY soapy water instead.” Just before our main meal I fed Victoria. I believe that even up to and a little after a child’s first birthday it is good for babies to be fed properly. Molly sat on the sofa. She had Alice’s head in her lap. She fed her the bottle full of soapy water. At first Alice was fidgeting like anything. Then she stopped fidgeting. Molly remarked:

“I think baby Alice has her first wet diapers, shall I change her?” I smiled: “With real babies you change them as soon as their diaper is even a little bit wet. But Alice only ACTS like a baby. With Victoria we must make sure she never has a wet or stinky diaper for more than a few minutes. With Alice we can check her diapers whenever Victoria needs changing, but not at other times. If Alice is wet or stinky we can change the 2 BABIES at the same time. Otherwise Alice can stay in wet or stinky diapers for however long.”

Molly was not sure: “But might that mean that Alice will get diaper rash?” I smiled: “If she does, it will be a suitable part of her punishment.” In the kitchen I had been showing the girls how to cook a British desert called an apple crumble. It is easy to make and really yummy. I love it. So does Christine and of course Alice However the girls were also cooking vegetables. We chose the ones Alice most hated. They had to be thoroughly cooked.

Then they had to be blended. At a little after noon I undid the wrapping on a huge gift. It was a High chair designed for a baby of Alice’s size. However it had extra straps. The first of eight girls, all under 16, started spoon feeding the bigger baby. I had, of course, picked baby food that Victoria liked whilst I fed her. The two infants sat next to each other.

Molly and Rosemary made sure that Alice did indeed have to swallow lots of veggies that she did not like. However they managed to get a fair amount on her face and on her bib. The doorbell rang. The Pizza delivery man came. I am sure he saw Alice in her High chair sitting right next to Victoria. We all ate our Pizza and took turns in feeding both babies. Then we had apple crumble and Ice cream.

It was divine. We also fed little Victoria some of it. She loved it. Alice got a different desert, stewed prunes. Now you cannot possibly toilet train a girl of 11 months. However sometimes a mother can notice something. I noticed it. Very quickly I had Victoria’s tights and panties down and her diaper unpinned. I think the cold of the potty chair helped baby empty her bowels.

“Its going to be that much longer before Victoria’s diaper actually needs changing.” I said, after I had wiped her tush and repinned the still totally clean and dry diaper on my little one. Christine lifted Victoria into her small bassinet. I, being bigger and stronger, unstrapped Alice and lifted her into the larger bassinet. Just after I pulled the lever to make sure the netting went over Alice’s head I could see, hear and smell something.

“I think baby Alice has stinky diapers. Well it’s not change time yet.” Now we have quite tall fences in our back yard. I pushed the lobster pot play pen into the back yard and left Alice in very poopie diapers for nearly 3 hours, on her own. It was a nice day. We pushed the changing table outside. Alice had the embarrassment of lying right next to Victoria who I changed. Molly and Christine saw to Alice.

Had I been a judge I would have sent a person who had driven as dangerously as my sister more than three years in jail. She would expect to spend her 22nd summer behind bars. Alice did indeed spend the nights of that summer behind bars, or be it crib bars. We also added things to Alice’s feeds to make it easier for her to have soggy or stinky dydees As it happened Victoria suddenly started walking surprisingly well.

That meant that Alice was allowed to toddle rather than crawl. Unfortunately Alice had not understood that baby talk was compulsory. She had soapy water feeds more than my milk feeds. We found out that it was possible to buy oversized pacifiers. I bought some for baby Alice. This was not enough, Alice often refused to use her pacifier. Then I had an idea.

We drove Alice and Victoria to the beauty place we had taken Alice to all those years ago. We parked a little way away from the shop. Victoria travelled in the stroller. Both Alice and Victoria wore green corduroy jumper style dresses which tended to show off their diapers. They did not have tights because it was too hot. Christine pushed my daughter along in a stroller. I stood right behind my sister. I was so close behind that you had to look closely to see the toddler reins I held.

Both little girls had their hair put into pig tails with cute ribbon bows. However Alice needed some other treatment. When she had first came to see us she had her lip pierced. We had asked the beauty place to remove the piercing. Now we asked that the piercing be put back in place. However it was not needed for jewellery. Instead it provided anchoring for tiny rings which held the pacifier in place.

Alice spent the whole of that summer being treated very much the same way as Victoria. However there were some differences. Alice needed some little trips across my knees, Christine’s or Molly’s. Now Molly was not yet 15 and maybe not as strong as I was. However I think the shame of such a young teenager having the authority to spank her helped reinforce Alice’s status.

Now I had been lucky with a paediatrician. Mina Shah had helped to care for Alice both times she was a child the first time. Alice had been difficult and rude. Dr Shah also had a general practice. It was, therefore possible for the Paediatrician to look after the 18 year old treated as 9 year old and then a ten year old. Dr Shah was also a friend. She did a house call.

She checked over Victoria and she was fine. She checked over the 21 year old treated as a 1 year old. Again she was fine but for one problem Diaper rash. She prescribed some cream. I think the most embarrassing time for Alice was when she was invited to Maria’s birthday party. Maria was Rosemary’s sister. Maria was 4. Most of the kids at the party were little ones of her age. Some of them used as potty chair but most used ‘the big potty’.

They all understood that little Victoria needed diapers. All thought that Alice was very pathetic for needing diapers. During that particular party Victoria was dressed as she usually was in a short dress with tights covering her plastic panties and diaper. For Alice on the other hand we felt we could do without the tights so that her diapers were on even clearer display.

A few days later I took Alice, Rosemary and Maria out. Now Maria was quite short for a 4 year old. So having ensured that Alice was very wet before we went out I asked in little café- “Is there anywhere we could change Alice’s diaper.” During this trip Alice was wearing a jumper type dress which covered her diaper. The lady in the café had assumed that it wasthe smaller child who needed this attention. I then said loudly

“This way Alice, I think Miss waterworks needs changing.” Two weeks before school was to restart we stopped adding the stuff to her feeds. One week later we decided she could be potty trained. We had an oversized baby potty. For the first two or three days we left her in actual diapers and had her ask for the potty. I think this also helped with Victoria’s training. Alice actually cried as she got up and followed me to the rest room. Maria and Rosemary both laughed

Alice was indeed, just about, able to get out of diapers and go to High School on time. However even on that last weekend Alice had day time accidents. We decided that training panties were needed. We made them specially. Basically they were plastic panties with terry cotton linings. At night she absolutely NEEDED diapers until well after her first Christmas at High School. Dr Shah gave a note to allow Alice to avoid any activities which would involve changing in front of the other students.

Jessica went to the same school High School. It was not the one most of the kids from her Junior High attended. Jessica did NOT tell the other girls ALL the truth about Alice. They did not know about her criminal record. Jessica did not tell the other kids how Alice had spent the summer between Junior High and High school. Jessica did not tell them about Alice's particular underwear.

However Jessica did make sure that all the kids at the High School know how badly Alice had behaved and how little she was trusted. All the kids at the High School knew that Alice was collected and taken to school. Jessica, officially  a year younger than Alice and in fact six years younger was known to be baby sitting the High School girl with the troubled past.

Jessica keeping Alice’s previous accidents secret was quite ironic. Jessica did NOT forget to make sure that everyone in her class knew that Alice still got dragged across adult’s knees. Most of the kids at that school had been spanked in the past. I think that only 1 other child in Alice’s year still got spanked. Alice did graduate High School and got to college. The college was not far way but too hard to commute. In the summer between school and college Alice had worked in a clothing store. Norma Johnson had a job supervising,

I felt it was necessary that her employer knew the truth about Alice’s past. I gave her that information. I also leant her hairbrush. Ms Johnson got a promotion to another store near the college Alice was to attend. Ms Johnson agreed to look after Alice and offer accommodation. She kept hold of the hairbrush. Alice now looks like having a reasonable career. We make sure she always has a female boss who knows her history. The old sorority hairbrush gets handed from boss to boss. Alice is now very good at doing what she is told.

The end

[cute little kokiri girl]

Deedee.

By derry.

The young woman woke up. It was just after 6am. She felt disorientated. She did not know where she was. In a few seconds she realized. The bed was moving. She guessed, correctly, that she was in an old fashioned sleeping car on a train.

 Within a second of waking she felt an urgent need. She needed the bathroom. She ran out into corridor. It felt odd going out in public in her pajamas. She saw the bathroom. She sprinted to the door. She couldn’t remember anything. She did not know how she got where she was. She did not know her name.

She pulled down her pajama pants. She was just in time. She remembered a phrase, people talked of relieving oneself. This was a relief. Somewhere in her mind a phrase hit her. “I must get to Mommy.”

This seemed to make no sense. Then she looked in the mirror. She saw a little girl. She seemed to be about 12, maybe younger. She had almost no boobies. She looked down and noticed a lack of hair.  She knew this was wrong. She did not know why. She did not know ANYTHING .She started to cry. She did not know why.

**************

Four years earlier Deidre Brewster-Lodge had been a powerful and arrogant lady. In all her life she had almost never been told ‘no’. Deidre had been the very young very conservative chairman of the school board. Some people criticized her for not being a parent and not having ever looked after children. Deidre had never been close to her mother. Yet Anne was to give Deidre the opportunities she was really grateful for.

Anne Brown’s marriage to Walker Brewster-Lodge had been brief. She had been a pretty young thing. She was also smart. Anne had seemed to be an ideal ‘trophy wife’ for young Walker, a young man who seemed destined for great things. Walker had not achieved great things. His indiscrete private life had ruined any political ambitions he might have had. This promiscuousness had included a brief fling with his ex. The result was that Roberta, 16 years younger than her sister.

It had happened that Deidre had a job gap. She had an excellent post starting in September. Her contract ended in May. Anne had a particularly busy period at work- and needed to be away from home quite a bit, once for 4 weeks. So Deidre had the chance to care for her 12 year old sister. During those weeks Deidre put into practice her ideas about strict old fashioned discipline for children. She had felt that Roberta was rude. She was always interrupting. Deidre brought a heavy hairbrush.

Deidre had been determined to make her little sister learn her place.  Children, she felt, should be respectful of adults and understand their place. She found several ways of reinforcing this. Spankings were given for some quite trivial reasons, for instance not putting her breakfast cereal bowl into the dish washer before she started on her toast.

Deidre had really enjoyed spanking the 12 year old. Hearing Bobbi bawling and seeing her kicking helplessly gave the ambitious 28 year old real pleasure. She liked seeing the little girl’s bottom going very red. There were other ways of trying to break the spirit of the clever, and to other people, impressive 12 year old. One way she did so was to always call her ‘Bobbi’. The 12 year old had insisted that she was Roberta.

There was something else. This was a year after their father had died. This had upset Roberta far more than Deidre. One symptom had been bed wetting. Anne had told Deidre about this. That problem had started to go away a few months after the funeral. The stress and fear caused by Deidre brought wet sheets back. Roberta’s humiliation was worst one evening in late July.

There had been plans for a sleepover. Bobbi was surprised when Deidre let the sleepover happened happen Deidre had postponed a spanking. So just after tea Bobbi’s friends had watched her being pulled over “Aunt Deidre’s lap. She bawled and cried. She struggled and kicked.  A couple of her friends laughed.

There was one other thing. Anne had purchased what she called ‘protection’ for Roberta during the night.  Roberta’s mother was careful to refer to pads or briefs. She never used the ‘D’ word Deidre insisted that Bobbi wear a diaper during the sleepover. She made sure to let Bobbi’s friends know that she wet the bed and made sure to always use the word diaper.

*********

The train was approaching the Canadian border. It stopped at a station which was just state side. A railroad hospitality facilitator and a young man from the INS knocked on the door of the young girl’s sleeping compartment. “You must be Deedee Brown.”

 It sounded wrong but she did not know her name. A uniformed lady checked her purse. She found a passport. It was indeed in the name of Deedee Brown. “Your Aunt is on her way, you better get dressed.” As she used the tiny shower in the sleeping compartment, ‘Deedee’ was embarrassed to realize that she had not needed to run out into the public part of the train in her pajamas.

 The clothing in the young lady’s bag did not seem right. There were some cotton panties, a training bra, blue jeans, a t-shirt and a sweater. There were no pantyhose. Instead there were white socks. She looked for shoes. She was a little shocked to find that there were no shoes with proper heels.

 Once she was dressed the young woman looked in the youngster’s purse. She found a passport. It was for indeed for Deedee Brown. She looked at the date of birth. At first it looked as if Deedee was a 12 year old. When she looked at the month Deedee seemed to be 11, at least for the next three months.

The girl looked for make-up. She saw some that looked like it was for kids to play with. Still she applied it. There was a knock on the door. “I’m your Aunt Alice. I’ve come to take you home.” The phrase that kept going through her mind hit ‘Deedee’ again. She said it: “I’ve got to get to Mommy. Err my mother.”

 She looked up at her aunt. She had to look right up at the tall, stout, maternal looking lady who towered above her and had a really generous bust. “Your mother has to work away. You were told that. She has asked me to look after you. First thing first! We need to deal with the mess on your face.”

The tall woman grabbed the shorter one and pulled her into the bathroom area. She soaped a wash cloth ‘Aunt Alice’ was very rough as she thoroughly scrubbed away the make-up from ‘”the child’s” face.

**************

In the 4 years since she had baby sat her little sister Deidre Brewster-Lodge’s career had gone from strength to strength. For two years she had combined chairing the local school board, with sitting as her state’s youngest ever State Senator and running a very profitable insurance corporation.

The Security Insurance Corporation was profitable for several reasons. Its advertising was effective and seductive. During those insecure times lots of people wanted insurance when they took out credit. But the main reason it did so well was that its lawyers had worded policies designed to almost never pay out.

Several hundred thousand people had paid insurance when they purchased their homes. They were to find out that it did not help them when they were laid off of became too ill to work.

For two years Deidre Brewster- Lodge had been her state’s Education Commissioner. Thanks to legislation that Deidre had pushed through when she was a state Senator, this was now a powerful role.

Deidre’s political career had prospered for lots of reasons. She knew exactly how to reach Conservative religious voters. On the other hand the more moderate tradition in her party, which had once been so strong, were reassured by the knowledge that Deidre seemed to be close to her grandfather, who was a Republican from the school of Eisenhower, Rockefeller and Lincoln.

Though of course there were nannies and housekeepers; Jonathan and Sylvia Brewster-Lodge had taken the main role in raising little Deidre. In all her life nobody ever said ‘no’ to Deidre. On the few occasions people tried she shouted and threw tantrums. Seven housekeepers had been sacked for not meeting the needs of young Deidre. She had secured the sacking of her first servant before her 6^thbirthday.

There was just one area where Deidre did not get her own way at home. It was clothing when she was home. Her grandfather loved little girls. It was always wholly appropriate. Although there had only been a six year age gap between Jonathan and Sylvia he had felt he had a somewhat paternal role with his wife.

Since she had first left for college, Deidre had made sure to keep in good touch with her paternal grandparents. It was very rare for Deidre to be in the country and not spend the weekend, or at least Sunday, with her doting and influential grandfather. On those occasions the push up bras went. Deidre wore flat shoes. She always wore dresses. Sometimes, even after her 30^th birthday she would please her most influential supporter by wearing pig tails, a jumper and socks.

In a public context she was very different. Deidre wanted to remain sexy but be ‘one of the boys’. In a work, or political, context she NEVER wore a dress or skirt. She always wore heels, and usually lifts as well. Her hair was always up.

She found ways to make her breasts seem as if they were if not voluptuous at least average. Of course they were no such thing. Deidre preferred male colleagues. She found ways of excluding other women from contributing to meetings. One asset nature had endowed Deidre with was a large bladder and strong muscles in that area. Her treatment of Patricia Harrison, quite early in Deidre’s term as Education Commissioner was, perhaps, a little extreme but gives a flavour of Deidre’s way of doing things.

All this happened when Patricia was 7 months pregnant. Patricia had once told Deidre that she was uncomfortable about her talking about ‘potty breaks’. Patricia was originally from England and to her a potty was, a little potty chair, for a toddler being potty trained. Deidre had from that time onward referred to the bathroom as the potty whenever she thought it might be needed by Patricia and she might hear.

There had been a budget meeting. There were many items. There were four men, Deidre and a career public servant called Patricia. Deidre knew that Patricia especially disliked the item referring to requiring schools to acquire paddles from a corporation called ‘Wood Wonder’. Patricia did not think that paddles had any proper place in education anyway and she suspected that the corporation was not the most competitive provider even if such items were needed.

 A few years later it emerged from public documents that ‘Wood Wonder’ had indeed contributed a lot of money to Deidre’s exploratory committee for the governorship. A close look at their accounts showed money going in directions that were hard to follow. Significant quantities of actual cash found its way into Deidre’s own purse.

Ms Brewster-Lodge had arranged that the meeting room would be some distance from the women’s bathroom. She announced: “We are constrained for time. We cannot allow time for comfort breaks. I hope everyone has gone potty before we started.” Deidre smiled as she noticed Patricia’s face go red at her phraseology.

Deidre was very slow and particular about five apparently not contentious items. Just after Patricia left the room she speeded up the discussion. Decisions were made on buying thousands of paddles from ‘Wood Wonder’ and textbooks from a Texas based corporation had been made before Patricia got back.

 ****

‘Deedee’ had tried to tell her Aunt Alice some of her confusion. “I think I have am- err amnesia. I can’t remember anything but I’m sure I shouldn’t be treated like a child.” The younger woman heard her own voice. Even though she did not remember who she was her voice sounded wrong. The reply was: “Well don’t act like one.”

The young lady noticed that she did have some money in her purse. She was not sure what she would do but she was sure she did not want to spend time with this crazy ‘aunt’. She saw her chance. The young woman ran to the end of the railroad car. She opened the door and tried to run out. She misjudged things. She seemed to be even shorter than she thought. A conductor was able to stop her hitting her head on the ground.

 Aunt Alice was soon there to help her ‘niece’. She asked the porter for a favor “Can you keep an eye on our Deedee’s luggage? We need to go in there.” The younger lady was confused. She had just used the bathroom. Now the one train that had arrived was mainly used by BusinessMEN. The lady’s rest room was therefore empty.

 The younger woman felt her ‘aunt’ grab her by the waist. She had no idea what was happening. “What are you doing?”  She heard reply. “Giving you something you’ve needed for years.” Even as she went over the older lady’s lap the youngster did not guess. “Hey stop that..”  Yelled ‘the child’ as she felt her jeans being partially pulled down.  As her cotton panties were pulled away from her rear an awful thought hit the youngster.

 Seconds after the awful thought hit the girl’s mind Aunt Alice’s awful hairbrush hit her rear. Then again: WHAP. “Stop, that hurts..” WHAP WHAP!! WHAP!! “It’s meant to hurt." Said her aunt as she continued her work. “Stop right now you f***ing b****.”

 The girl heard her ‘adult’ language and her childish voice. She realized it sounded ridiculous. Aunt Alice seemed to ignore the protest. In seconds it was replaced by incoherent childish bawling. The young woman had no memory of who she was or what had happened. Even if her recall had been perfect she would not have been able recall being on the receiving end of a hairbrush spanking, or even the mildest hand chastisement over her clothing.

 As she cried and kicked the girl was aware of great pain and greater shame and humiliation. She heard a woman wearing heels walking just outside the rest room. She prayed that she would not be seen by someone else. On this occasion her prayers were answered. Half way through the spanking the pain took over from the embarrassment, she knew nothing except how much her poor tushie hurt.

Aunt Alice had only a limited amount of time. The spanking was over in less than three minutes. They had a plane to catch. To Alice it seemed to be only one minute, to ‘Deedee’ more like three hours. The girl thought her punishment was over. Then she felt her ear being grabbed. The tearful girl was taken to wash basins.

“Now we need to deal with a filthy mouth.” The youngster felt her nose being squeezed. As she opened her mouth a wet piece of soap was pushed in. Aunt Alice would have liked to have her niece standing in the corner with a soapy mouth for half an hour and for her to be seen by lots of other ladies. She had two concerns. She needed to get back to the hotel to collect the rest of her luggage and then to catch the airplane home.

She also feared that politically correct people would lie and call her a child abuser The girl tasted the foul soap. She was relieved the soap cake was removed. The taste was not to go away. She heard ‘Aunt Alice’ explain: "And you are not going to be able to rinse your mouth until we are ready to leave.” The girl was aware of ‘her aunt’ holding her hand at every moment. Once they reached the hotel room ‘Deedee’ saw the room door being locked.

 *******

 Although Deidre was on the ultra wing of her party she was capable of some bipartisanship. Governor Jack Blanket was a moderate, even conservative Democrat. He planned to run for re-election. He would have problems if he first had a primary contest.

 There was a lot of talk that, Mike Lubbock, the young, Popular Mayor of Eastbury might contest the nomination for Governor. Deidre feared Lubbock would be a  formidable opponent in the General election. He would electrify the Democrat base. Plus his biography, having been born in a trailer, might undercut some of her appeal to white skinned blue collar voters.

 She had heard, correctly, that he had a weakness for powerful athletic women.  It would not be easy to attack him on that. He always said what adults did in the bedroom was nobody else’s affair. Furthermore he had taken a very strong line both on rape and child sexual abuse. His City’s police force had been notably effective in this area. He was a single guy, and actually people finding out that he was neither gay nor a monk might help Lubbock.

 Now governor Blanket had a fixer called Peter Campbell. He would be a problem for Deidre Brewster-Lodge in the actual election but at this stage they had a certain common interest.

A women’s basketball team from Noverity a town in the Central Asian Republic or C.A.R was to visit Eastbury. Now Deidre had friends in some interesting places. There were executives in the luxury hotel chain that was sponsoring the visit. She also knew some people from the Embassy of the Central Asian Republic.

Via another friend, who had some difficulties with tax, Education Commissioner Brewster-Lodge also had some friends who were clever with documents. In early January the first part of her plan worked wonderfully. Natalie Navdotir did want some money and the chance of a place at the US College. The 20 year old did her part. She even told the Mayor that she was 23.

The 31 year old Mayor had a wonderful night. He wondered whether he might get away with marrying a foreigner, once he was in the Governor’s mansion. Then tragedy struck the Brewster-Lodge family. The death of her 78 year old grandfather had long been expected. Truth to tell Deidre had some mixed feelings. She lost a man who adored her who had told Deidre:

“My little girl can get to be President.” On the other hand she did not love her weekends at home. She knew that the pig tails and jumper pleased her sponsor. He even sometime called her ‘Deedee’. That had been a cute nickname, when she was 4. Deidre did not stay over with her grandmother during the funeral preparations. Her home was quite near and there were guests from all corners of the United States and several other corners of the planet.

People thought that the death of Deidre’s grandfather would give her a boost in the Republican Primary which might just last to the general election. The day after the funeral Deidre threw away the b- cup bras, the ribbons and the childish clothes. She also started making enquiries about various kinds of surgery.

Sometimes her room at her grandparents was more convenient than Deidre’s apartment on the other side of town. On one particular Wednesday evening it had another advantage. People would have thought it odd for Peter Campbell to visit Deidre’s apartment. If anyone saw the Democrat spin doctor visiting her grandmother’s place they might assume that it related to sympathy and condolence. It could certainly be spun that way, if any nosy person saw him there and mentioned it

Deidre knew that her grandmother usually spent Wednesday evenings with some friends playing bridge. Deidre truly did not understand how her granny’s enjoyment had been ruined by the loss of the man he had been with for better than half a century. Sylvia had made a brief visit to the local convenience store and went back to watch soppy sentimental DVDs in the hope that it would help her.

However Sylvia’s appreciation of “Love Story” was interrupted by the voiced she heard. Her granddaughter was talking to a guy. She did not at first recognize his voice. “Are you sure you have the goods on Lubbock?” There was a pause and then what sounded like it might be people having sex. Then she heard her granddaughter “Just let him see and hear this. Oh and then show him the passport. He’ll announce he is not running for governor or for re-election as Mayor.”

The man spoke again. “Why not just give it to the media?” Deidre replied: “That’s plan B, if he’s stubborn.” For a few seconds Sylvia wondered how come she could hear so clearly, and then she remembered- Harriet Douglas, Jonathan’s old PA Cared for her granddaughter, because her daughter had died in child birth. They set up a baby monitor.

Sylvia had meant to set it up both ways so that the little boy could hear his grandma saying reassuring things but somehow.... Sylvia could not concentrate on the movie. She thought more and more about her granddaughter. She knew how much her late husband had loved his little girl. She understood how he had managed not to notice Deidre’s more dubious qualities.

Still it was now clear to Sylvia that she had to find some way to prevent her own grandchild advancing further in her political career. On Thursday Sylvia had lunch with Harriet. Her late husband’s former PA had some interesting information for Sylvia. “She wanted to know about how to get a good boob job. She thought I had one. Actually I took heavy hormones but that was only I could really feed Jamie...

“She also wondered about either hormones or surgery to add an inch or so to her actual height. She said that it had to be subtle so folk would not quite see what had happened. She did want to have a husband but did not want anyone to see her without her bra until she had something more under there.

“Plus it would be easier if she were just a little taller. She could then look as good as she does now without such extreme heel... “She said that no American surgeon seemed to want to touch anything to do with her height.” Now certain things were not as they had seemed in the Brewster Lodge family.

There had been a reason why during diplomatic postings Jonathan had been able so much time for his granddaughter. Often embassy postings were for non jobs to give cover for other things. Actually Sylvia was the spy mistress, working mainly with female informants. The result of all this was that Sylvia was aware of what could be done and was done by various governments and less ethical surgeons in various lands. 

She had a very good understanding about how the mind might be manipulated. She also was aware that certain surgeons in certain places were prepared to use their skill in ways that would be illegal in America.

[Babytom3]

Pacing is quite fast in both

[cute little kokiri girl]

5 hours ago, Babytom3 said:

Pacing is quite fast in both

That is true, but again I'm not the author I'm just the guy who's posting these stories for story preservation.

[cute little kokiri girl]

For instance she had kept some contact with the Central Asian Republic. When Sylvia and Jonathan Brewster Lodge had first been there it had been in the small consulate in what was part of the USSR, the empire of evil according to some.

The new government of the C.A.R. was America’s ally in the war on terror. One man who had posed a possible threat to his government’s efforts needed minor face surgery following a beating. A side effect was that his voice was altered and sounded absurd, and almost girlish. Of course the side effect had not been an accident.

Sylvia had wondered whether publicity about Deidre’s plans for bodily enhancement could do her real damage in the election. She feared not. Then she wondered whether it would be worth her simply attacking Deidre publicly.

She started exploring open media approaches. It would be tricky. She had no proof of the blackmail. She was not even certain of exactly what Deidre would do. In the following few days there were to be developments that cause Sylvia, and some friends, to decide on a much more drastic approach to the Deidre problem.

******************

 Part 5

‘Aunt Alice’ kept referring to the young woman as ‘Deedee’. She had seen the passport. It still did not feel quite right. The older woman kept her large hand holding firmly onto the younger girl’s hand. She made sure to put the girl on the inside when they got onto the complimentary hotel transport to the local airport.

Deedee started noticing something. Suddenly her need was urgent. The bus was held up in traffic. She came near to panicking. At last the bus pulled into the airport parking. The youngster whispered to the taller, lady “I REALLY need the bathroom.” Her aunt embarrassed ‘the child’ She said so that other passengers could hear.

“You should have gone to the rest room before we left the hotel.” ‘The child’ did not understand what was happening. Yes she did feel the signal as her ‘aunt’ finished the packing. It did not feel all that urgent. She had no idea how come the need was now so desperate, but she knew it was. The airport was quite old fashioned in some ways. There were actual porters. The adult talked to one burly woman.

“Could you push the trolley with our luggage? This young lady has a habit of running away. I need to hold her hand.” She handed the stronger lady a $5 bill. After they checked in the luggage the older lady said:  “Well we better let you go pee pee.” The girl was horrified when her aunt stood right outside the end stall. “Now wash your hands.”

The smaller young woman was going to do that anyway. As soon as her hands were clean her left one was again firmly gripped by taller stronger lady’s right. Then they reached the departure gate and saw the craft that was to take her ‘home’ “Who winds up the elastic band?”  ‘The child’ thought her comment on the propeller driven airplane they would take back to the Westbridge airport was a clever joke

 The plane took off. As soon as the fasten seat belt signs were off Alice got up. She chatted briefly to the stewardess. “My niece has been very difficult. Can you make sure people keep an eye on her?” Whilst ‘her aunt’ was in the line for the bathroom a stewardess came around. She offered mainly tea and coffee.  One man asked for, and was given a tin of lager. The stewardess reached ‘Deedee’

“And what would you like, honey?” She replied: "A can of green stripe fortified lager please...” The stewardess laughed. “What’s wrong?” The lady explained “Well of course I can’t serve alcohol to a kid. I do not know what your family used to let you do but now...” The little one stood up and yelled right into the stewardess’s ear. “I’m not a kid, you stupid bitch!”

 A few minutes later Alice returned. She saw the stewardess. She was a lady in her late 50s who plainly took pride in her appearance and her job. She had a neat uniform with a label on it saying. Jenny, here to help.’ Jenny gave ‘Deedee’ a tray with milk and cookies. “I said I’m not a kid, you ugly old bitch!”

 With that remark she chucked the plastic cup of milk onto the stewardess dark green uniform. Alice then spoke rather loudly “Deedee your bottom now has an appointment with my hairbrush when we get home and your mouth with a bar of soap.” Several passengers cheered. ‘Deedee’ remained confused. She did realize that throwing the milk was stupid. Still she felt provoked.  Everything seemed very wrong to her. She was sure she should not be treated this way.

 The youngster grudgingly said: “Jenny, I’m sorry about throwing the milk. It was just that I don’t like being treated as a kid. I’m NOT a kid.”  There were no further incidents on the plane journey. Alice again kept firmly holding the younger girl’s hand after they left the aircraft. She was aware of being locked in the back of the car. Alice drove them to a mall. She kept hold of her niece.

Deedee was sure still she should not be treated as a kid. The jeans and training bra felt pretty bad. However what her ‘aunt’ bought for her was worse. There were several school uniforms. These seemed familiar, though she could not tell why. The jumper style dress was definitely for kids before their teenage years.

The training bra had seemed an insult to her breasts, which did look small. The under vest which replaced it meant that she might as well have been a 12 year old boy. Deedee had said: “If you think I’m putting that on...” Alice replied: “Well I can deal with misbehaviour here and now.” Alice patted her hand with the large hairbrush, which ‘Deedee’ remembered all too well. Alice then continued:

“This is an old fashioned town. They do believe in discipline for children.” The next visit was, in some ways even more humiliating. Alice purchased child’s car seat. She explained “This is about your safety. I did notice you not wanting to wear the safety belt and you are in the right height and weight range.”

They finally arrived ‘home’. Aunt Alice took hold of Deedee’s hand and led her to ‘her room’. It was very visibly a little girl’s room. There was a cabin bed. There were posters of boy bands on the wall. Aunt Alice brought in a large armless chair. “Now, we need to deal with the horrible way you treated the air stewardess.”

The struggle was very brief. Deedee yelled “I’m NOT kid you can NOT spank me.” Aunt Alice ignored her protests. She used all her considerable strength to hold the girl in place and land the hairbrush. Deedee saw herself in the dressing table mirror. The skirt of her jumper was pinned out of the way. Her panties were around her knees. She felt and saw her ass being struck by Alice’s hairbrush.

Deedee’s bottom started slightly pink from what had happened in railroad station rest room 6 hours earlier. Over the course of what seemed to Deedee to be a very long time her bottom became bright red. For a couple of minutes Deedee decided that she did want to react in a childish way, like she had for her first spanking. However, all too soon, she found herself crying and kicking.

 Alice would have liked to have continued the spanking for a longer time. It was clearly having a real effect on the child. However other things were needed. “Now, put your nose into that corner and make sure you hold up your dress.” Deedee was too scared to resist. She felt her panties being pulled right down to her ankles.

 It pleased Deedee that she could hear her aunt pulling down the boy band posters. She did not dare to look around. Towards the end she heard some camera clicks Corner time lasted half an hour. It felt longer to Deedee. She was shocked when she saw that the childish boy band posters had been replaced by other posters. The new posters had pictures alphabet bricks and characters from Sesame Street.

“Your punishment is not over; we need again to deal with your foul mouth.” Deedee was by then too scared to resist as her aunt took her hand and walked her to the bathroom. This time Alice used a wash cloth to literally scrub the inside of Deedee’s mouth. After the scrubbing a large cake of soap was put into the child’s mouth

“Now you need to write some punishment lines. You will keep the soap in your mouth until you have written 200 times ‘I am very sorry for behaving like a spoiled brat to Jenny the air stewardess and I deserved my spanking and mouth soaping’. Alice lifted Deedee onto a tall hard chair in the living room. Deedee’s whole weight was on her very sore butt as she wrote the humiliating lines.

After the first couple of lines Deedee felt her hands starting to ache. She had not been used to doing much more than signing her name other than with a computer. Three quarters of the way through her punishment lines Deedee heard something more. “I am going to send an apology letter to Jenny. With it we will send your punishment lines and some pictures.”

 Everything FELT wrong. Yet the humiliated youngster knew she had no choice. It appeared that she had failed at least twice in running away. Aunt Alice had told Deedee that she had invited the neighbours for supper and that Deedee should set the table.  As instructed Deedee set places for seven with space for a chair.

 Aunt Alice explained more to her newly discovered niece: “Deedee, what really ought to happen is that I should send you to bed early and without supper. However since I invited the neighbours in you can eat with the more civilized people.” Alice instructed Deedee to rearrange the places at the table.

“This end is for the grownups and this for the children.” Deedee was surprised when it turned out that the chair was not a wheelchair but a high chair on casters. There were two other adults. One of them was Mrs Brown. It was made clear to Deedee that ‘Mrs Brown’ was the correct form of address. Mrs Brown had a daughter called Roberta. Both seemed slightly familiar to Deedee, who still did not know who she was and remained unsure of her ‘real’ name.

The other neighbour was Mrs Harrison. She had three daughters. Diana, aged 16, Eloise aged 12 and Beatrice, aged nearly two. Mrs Harrison also seemed familiar. Eloise and Diana were allowed to call Mrs Brown ‘Anne’. Roberta was allowed to call Mrs Harrison ‘Patricia’. Everyone called little Beatrice, Beeby.

It was a fish dinner. Diana, Mrs Brown, Aunt Alice and Mrs Harrison had sushi. Roberta had a vegetarian version of sushi, Eloise and Deedee had alphabeti veggies and fish fingers. The same food, with the fish fingers cut up was given to Beeby. Eloise and Deedee both resented this. Eloise said it was not fair, and did so quite loudly. Deedee thought better of provoking her aunt. 

For desert Diana, Roberta, Aunt Alice, Mrs Brown and Mrs Harrison had splendid soufflé. The little ones who included Eloise and Beeby as well as Deedee got jell-o and ice cream. Deedee desperately wanted to know who she was. So she listened to the conversation quite intensely. It turned out that Aunt Alice was also Ann Brown’s aunt- and therefore Roberta’s great aunt.

“I have agreed to care for this young lady for a couple of weeks. After that her grandmother will be able to take charge “I know you do not love my approach to child care. However Deedee’s Mom wanted me to care for her. She explained that her father had died. Unfortunately the other Mrs Brown had let my brother mix with very irresponsible people.

“Deedee spent years being told she could do what she wanted. I do not think that anyone had told Deedee ‘no’ in the last 10 years until her Mom made a brief attempt to take charge. “Your Mom has some large debts. She has found some well paid, but intensive work overseas. She would not cope with a brat as well.

“If someone had used their hand, or even the naughty step when this young lady was younger...” Deedee felt embarrassed at being pointed at. “I might not need to make so much use of the hairbrush...” Two other people had really strong memories of  “Aunt Alice”. There had been one other summer where Roberta’s Mom needed a baby sitter. “Aunt Alice” really scared Roberta. It was true that she had actually been really naughty when it happened. She had let a frying pan catch fire.

However, in Roberta’s memory, two minutes of Aunt Alice’s spanking was worse than half an hour from ‘Aunt’ Deidre. And the spankings Roberta had received from her tall strong aunt had lasted much longer than two minutes. Deedee was sent to bed at half past eight. Everyone else stayed up, not only including Eloise but also little Beeby.

 Deedee had some more shocks when she got into bed. As well as the childish posters in her bedroom two other pictures had been put up. They were on the board at the end of her cabin bed. There was little light in the cabin bed so the little one not get too scared. It perfectly illuminated to photos on the board at the other end of her bed.

One picture showed Deedee’s mouth full of soap. The other showed her in the corner, dress held right up and panties down, bottom rose red. As she was being tucked into the childish bed Aunt Alice had some further bad news for Deedee. “I want you to think about this. You are owed two spankings. One will be in the morning for asking for alcohol, which was wrong.”

“The other spanking will be for being so stupid as to think that a responsible person would serve a little kid drink.” Deedee found it hard to get to sleep. She was scared and worried. This was wrong. She had noticed her aunt putting a lock on the window. Deedee had no memory of it but it seemed that she had climbed out of her window to run away that morning.

The girl without a memory was sure that things could not get worse. When she woke up she found that they could. She was lying in liquid. For half an hour she could make no sense of it. Finally she realized it. Her ‘jammies were soaked as was her sheet because she had wet the bed.

Just after 6 am, which felt very early to Deedee her aunt came in. “Out of bed, child!” Deedee hesitated. She was scared and embarrassed. Her aunt bent down and pulled her out. “So you wet the bed do you child. So you’ve more in common than a rhyme with little Beeby.” Deedee’s response was: “But I’m not a bed wetter.”

Aunt Alice responded: “Well look at your’ jammies.” Deedee cried. She could not remember who she was or where she was from. Still she was sure that this was wrong. On the other hand Deedee did remember waking up the previous morning. She realized that she might have had a narrow. She also felt that she came near to disaster at the airport.

Deedee found herself rinsing and scrubbing her pajamas and her sheet. For breakfast Deedee was given a brand of cereal which was clearly marketed to kids, and usually kids younger than 11. Then Aunt Alice announced: “Last night I told you what you deserved this morning. Have you anything to ask me?”

Deedee said nothing. “I’ll give you a clue. Go to my bedroom and fetch my hairbrush.” Deedee paused for half a minute. “Do you want more spankings for being disobedient...” It was all wrong but she had no choice. The small frightened person went down the hall and brought the hairbrush down. When Aunt Alice sat down and patted her lap Deedee went over her knees.

 In half a minute she wished she had resisted “Little children...”  WHAP “Should never...” WHAP! “Try to get alcohol...” There was a little more scolding but mostly it was spanking. Deedee bawled and kicked. Aunt Alice wondered about restraining the child’s legs but felt it better to leave things as they were. She correctly guessed that this involuntary reaction added to the kid’s well deserved shame and embarrassment.

 After twenty minutes of intensive spanking Deedee was ordered to a corner of the living room. Again she was told to hold up her dress and leave her panties around her ankles. There was a knock at the door. “Stay where you are unless you want another spanking right now in front of guests...” Aunt Alice offered her three guests tea or coffee and cookies. They discussed babysitting arrangements.

Eloise would make sure that Deedee got on to the right school bus. They would be at the same school in the last year of elementary school. Roberta and Diana would keep an eye on both Eloise and Deedee.  When the summer break started, which would be in one week they had agreed things with Mrs Harrison, whose husband was abroad.

 Roberta and Diana would be paid to watch both Beeby and Eloise. Alice would pay them to keep an eye on Deedee.. The next question surprised, but also pleased Alice. Roberta’s query was this: “If Deedee is very naughty am I allowed to spank her. I know that we would not do that to Eloise, but then she would not be such a problem.”

The answer was a big shock to the young lady holding up her dress and showing off her very red bottom. “Of course, responsible older children can discipline youngsters including you, Diana and if appropriate Eloise. It has been a bit of a problem because it is hard to spank in public places nowadays. I have had sometimes to postpone spankings. The best time is right after the naughtiness.”

Deedee started to cry as she heard the rest of her fate. Having an adult hitting her was painful and humiliating. But now she would have kids in charge and they too would be allowed to spank her. There was one other humiliation. Aunt Alice talked to her niece “I think you should get into the habit not only of asking nicely when you need a spanking but also of curtseying to say thank you. Have you anything to say.”

 Deedee did not want any more spankings so she did a not very neat curtsey and said: “Thank you for my spanking, I really needed it.” Deedee heard Roberta giggling as she thanked her aunt. It got no better for the person in the corner. Aunt Alice authorized and advised about washing Deedee’s mouth out with soap if she either lied or used nasty language.

 Aunt Alice then talked to Roberta: “Do you know where we can get a rubber sheet, that young lady wet the bed last night.” It turned out that there was an old fashioned shop which sold all kinds of children’s clothes just at the other end of their street. They would not need to drive. So, a little later that morning, Alice took her new troublesome niece on a shopping trip.

Deedee’s hand was, as usual, firmly held. Alice had asked Eloise to put Deedee’s hair into pig tails. Eloise was very pleased to oblige. The pink and white ribbon bows looked cute. You could easily imagine Deedee as a rather tall 7 year old. The clerk suggested goodnites when Aunt Alice explained the problem.

“So this lady thinks that diapers are what you should wear at night. Well if you wet twice in a week  it will be night time diapers for you for the next month.” Eloise was also in the shop. She mentioned: “Beatrice is getting toilet trained. It’s going very well. Mom thinks that cloth diapers make that much easier.” Deedee felt still smaller. She was required to carry the package with the childish sheet whilst her aunt held her other hand 

   ********

Deidre Brewster-Lodge in fact started to have a National reputation. Her policy of encouraging the use of the paddle and strict discipline in her state’s schools was popular with a significant proportion of voters, and a majority of the conservative base.

There were lots of people to advise her on the curriculum. She had accepted their advice and was able to implement the changes on most areas. Calculators were banned. In math there was a bit emphasis on both mental and paper and pencil arithmetic. Deidre of course would have been lost without her calculator.

The fact that she would have struggled to write a coherent paragraph without a word processor and spell checker did not stop Deirdre changing the English curriculum to include including grammar and lots of hand writing. There was also to be an emphasis on reading aloud.

The education Commissioner had been forced to back down on the changes she wanted to the history curriculum. She had made concessions on biology, actually Deidre Brewster-Lodge believed in evolution but it did her no harm with her base supporters to seem to be fighting for equal time for ‘intelligent design’.

Deidre Brewster Lodge had been unable to attend a fund raiser on the other side of the state. The organizer, Alice Brown mentioned how much she liked Deidre’s education. Changes. Deidre that she was in fact her great Aunt, although only 4 years older than Deidre.

Deidre felt certain of getting both the nomination and winning the election for Governor. She was a bit concerned about Mike Lubbock. He could be quite an effective kind of populist campaigner. However when he discovered his mistake in sleeping with that tall attractive girl from the former Soviet Union he would never want to run. She knew there would be a risk if there were an investigation. Still she thought that Campbell would be blamed if things came out.

On Friday evening Deidre Brewster Lodge saw her grandmother. She asked about shopping.  Sylvia was quite tired. She did have some things. Somehow or other Deidre was able to bring up the subject of the protection Sylvia had needed since the birth of Deidre’s father and the death of his sister on one terrible day more than half a century earlier.

Except when her grandfather was about Deidre had made sure to talk of  ‘diapers’ rather than briefs or any of the other commercially used terms for ladies with major bladder problems. Of  course with her grandfather out of the picture Deidre felt less reason to be sensitive. Deidre had stayed over partly because she was expecting to meet Peter Campbell.

The big headline news was the death of Mayor Lubbock of Eastbury. His car had hit a wall. The report said that he must have been tired after working very long hours. There was some comment on the need for drivers to be careful to avoid drowsiness. Pter Campbell arrived. Grandma seemed to be enjoying a long breakfast.

Deidre had some work to do at her office. She wanted privacy. She went to her bedroom at the other end of the large house. Amazingly the one way baby monitor was still in place. “I am not a hypocrite. I cannot say I’m sorry he’s dead. Especially after what he had been up to.  I am wondering about rubbing it in. I mean if we let the media see what Mike Lubbock saw it would also destroy his reputation and damage his wing of my party.”

Sylvia Brewster Lodge remained surprised at her granddaughter’s apparent closeness to this well known, if behind the scenes, Democrat Party fixer. She then heard Deidre’s voice “Just to check you did NOT try to copy any of this stuff did you?” There was a pause. Sylvia correctly guessed that Mr Campbell was nodding.

“Good I’ll get rid of the evidence.” Campbell was unhappy. “If you do that some other Democrat lefty might try to take Lubbock’s mantle and call him a martyr. Surely we need to curb stone his reputation.” Peter Campbell and Sylvia Brewster Lodge were both shocked at the Deidre’s next revelation... “Well if the press checked up they would find that the name and photo on the passport had been adjusted.

Natalie Novdotir is 20. We used Valentina’s passport to make it look like the sleazebag had slept with a 14 year old.” That was the point at which Sylvia decided on some drastic action against her granddaughter. Her thoughts in fact included murder. Then she got some other ideas. As Education Commissioner Deidre had not only promoted the paddle in public schools but also acted as witness in the physical punishment of a number of young women, some nearly adult.

 Sylvia had overheard the obvious pleasure her granddaughter had experienced at the pain and humiliation of less powerful folk. A drastic plan emerged in her mind to arrange the most suitable punishment for Deidre.

 Sylvia worked quickly. She made an international telephone call. She booked a flight. She was in the Central Asian Republic that evening. Various experts with all the knowledge both of US and former Soviet methods of adjusting minds were happy to talk. There was also a very special team of surgeons. She also contacted her other granddaughter and her ex daughter in law’s family.

[cute little kokiri girl]

PART TWO

Aunt Alice had made it very clear that she felt that Deedee deserved a spanking for her stupidity in asking for alcohol on the plane. Deedee wanted to keep the number of spankings to a minimum. Therefore just after supper, thankfully without any other witnesses, Alice’s niece curtsied and said: “I was naughty for being so stupid as to think that adults would serve me alcohol. Will you please spank me?”

The next twenty minutes was just as painful and humiliating as the morning spanking had been. This time Deedee made no effort to try to behave like a big girl. She was bawling after fifteen seconds and kicking after less than a minute. Deedee’s arms started to ache when she was sent to the corner and required to hold up her skirt. Just before she went to bed Deedee again curtsied and thanked her aunt for the spanking.

Sunday was not particularly eventful. The Church she was taken to was a Catholic one but it seemed to be surprisingly trendy. This did not please Deedee but she did not comment on it. What really pleased Deedee were events which did not happen on Sunday and Monday mornings. On each of those mornings she woke up desperately needing the bathroom. On each of those mornings she got there so that the waterproof sheet turned out to be redundant.

Deedee felt humiliated that Eloise seemed to take charge of her in getting onto the bus to school. The girl was only 12. Deedee did not FEEL like an 11 year old. Deedee was sure that she should not be back at school, certainly not as a pupil. Still he had no alternative but to accept her situation. The rules at the school were very strict. Commissioner Brewster-Lodge had heard a lot about abuse of bathroom passes.

So they were abolished in public schools in her State. Boys and girls had to use restrooms before lessons started, at recess or at lunch time. Mostly Deedee managed at school. However there was one nasty incident. Towards the end of that morning there was a mental arithmetic session. Deedee had a calculator. She used it. Miss Parker saw her.

“Deedee, cheating is not acceptable. Come into my office.” Deedee did not disobey when told to bend over the desk. The six strokes of the paddle onto thin summer skirt and panties did hurt quite a bit. It was embarrassing. On the other hand it was both less painful and less humiliating than her trips across her aunt’s lap.

Deedee felt safe that Monday night. After her aunt had left her room, Deedee removed the waterproof sheet. Unfortunately she woke up in a wet bed and wet pajamas. The rest of Tuesday was uneventful. There were three scares for Deedee. At morning recess, lunch and afternoon recess Deedee desperately needed the bathroom. She ran to join the waiting lines. On each occasion she got there in time, usually just in time.

Deedee was surprised to find her aunt at home instead of at work when she got home. Deedee was walked up the street to the kid’s clothing store. Aunt Alice picked out a packet of goodnites. Aunt Alice made sure to call them diapers, and to insist her niece used the same word. Deedee was walked back up the road, carrying the carton of diapers without any way of hiding them.

The goodnite was wet on Wednesday morning. There was a math test late on that morning. It was long multiplication and division. Deedee was really struggling. However she was sitting just behind Eloise who seemed to understand this stuff. She hoped that she was not noticed as she leaned over to see what her neighbor was writing down.

Miss Parker again saw Deedee cheating. “I will not tolerate cheating for a second time. You will move your seat to that desk...” The teacher pointed to an empty desk the front. “And after this you will see Miss McReady... Miss McReady was the deputy principal. She was also the girls’ Physical education teacher and games coach. She was a tall strong former professional tennis player aged 29.

In the corridor outside Miss McReady’s room there had once been two fire places. This created alcoves which provided corners. Four other young ladies had their noses in corners. Deedee joined them Deedee had to wait for twenty minutes for her paddling.  She heard several girls crying out. At last it was Deedee’s turn. She went into the room.

Deedee removed her skirt, as instructed. She was relieved to be left in her panties. They might not protect her bottom much but were important to her dignity. “Miss Parker tells me that you cheated twice. That is very serious. I think that you deserve twelve strokes of the paddle.” Wood Wonder had manufactured a very long very heavy wooden object. Actually it had not hurt as much when Miss Parker had paddled her simply because Miss Parker was not so strong.

After the third blow Deedee cried out. On the seventh something else happened. Deedee had been aware of an urgent need for the bathroom for over 90 minutes. Suddenly she did not need it any more. She soaked her panties and left a puddle on the floor. “Deedee, you may think that this performance might reduce your punishment. You are wrong. Stay where you are.|”

Miss McReady rang Nurse Cooper. “I am afraid Deedee has wet herself like a baby. Could you come and help us?” The nurse arrived. She had baby wipes and several pairs of panties. All the spare underwear the nurse had in stock was in the form of thick terry cotton trainers. Deedee was required to clean up her puddle but the nurse made sure that her own private area was cleaned properly. She felt like a baby.

Deedee thought that there was one advantage to her new humiliation. These panties were thicker than the standard ones and might offer her a degree of protection. After the nurse left Deedee got two shocks. “I need to punish you for your naughtiness just now. I will start your twelve paddle blows again.

And you will not use your naughtiness to reduce your punishment.” Deedee felt her humiliating training panties pulled down. Deedee cried and yelled as she felt the heavy paddle hitting her now unprotected bottom twelve times. Every girl in Deedee’s class had heard about her ‘accident’. She got a few comments and giggles.

The last lesson on Wednesday afternoon was English. They were reading Tom Sawyer. The teacher, Miss Jackson, chose the new student. Lots of kids giggled as the Deedee repeatedly made mistakes and stumbled over her reading. There was more bad news for Deedee. When Aunt Alice got home Eloise told her that Deedee had cheated in tests twice.

Aunt Alice announced: “Cheating is like lying. You know what happens when you lie.” Her aunt led Deedee to the sink in the kitchen. Roberta, Eloise and Diana watched as Alice thoroughly scrubbed the inside of Deedee’s mouth with a very soapy wash cloth. The neighbour girls also heard Aunt Alice after she had finished the mouth soaping.

“And you can now go to bed without any supper.” It was only just after six thirty. Thursday was without incident at school. On Friday they had a history lesson and discussion. This was an area where Commissioner Brewster-Lodge had not been able to change the curriculum. They were discussion the New Deal. Deedee was sure that what the teacher was telling her about how a great President FDR was, did not tell the whole story.

There were other kids who disagreed with Ms McMichael. Deedee’s disagreement was in a different form: “Why don’t you stop telling kids so many lies you idiot?” It did not help Deedee’s credibility that she sounded like a littler girl than the other 11 and 12 year olds in the class. Deedee was unlucky. Principal Patterson, aware of the controversial nature of history lessons, was listening at the back of the class.

He walked to the front of the class: “I think you should apologise to Ms McMichael.” Deedee did not apologise. Principal Patterson walked Deedee to the office of Deputy Principal McReady. The tall athletic deputy principal remembered her last encounter with Deedee. “I think you should go potty first, Deedee.”

It was humiliating to be talked to like that. However it was less bad than the likely alternative. Just before the first Paddle blow hit Deedee’s thin panties Ms McReady clarified things: “You said something about free speech. Well this school believes in free speech but NOT in rudeness and disrespect." Deedee’s thin panties gave her very little protection from the paddle. She was crying her eyes out by the end of the paddling.

Patricia Harrison had invited the neighbors to supper that evening. It was Pizza and apple crisp. Bother were amongst Deedee’s favourites. However the brat did not get to eat anything. Instead, just before they started to eat, Deedee had her mouth thoroughly soaped in front of everyone. Deedee spent the following hour with her nose in the corner and her mouth stuffed with a cake of soap.

She heard and smelt as everyone else had a wonderful supper. The Pizza delivery boy also saw her with the soap in her mouth. At 7.30 Deedee was sent to bed, even though it was Friday, and thus not a school night. Aunt Alice had told Deedee that she had a meeting on the other side of the state to do with her job. She would be getting up early. Roberta would stay over and would babysit.

Deedee woke up at 5.30 am. She was glad that her goodnite was dry. However she desperately needed the bathroom. She got up and found the bathroom door locked.  Her aunt was having a shower. She banged on the door. This woke up Roberta. The 16 year old was wearing a sophisticated nightie.

Deedee banged more desperately. A couple of seconds later she no longer needed the bathroom. It turned out that she had needed her goodnite. She cried as she realized that Roberta had seen what happened. A few minutes later Aunt Alice left for her meeting. As babysitter Roberta told Deedee three things.

“I think you better get your diaper changed. You can go back to bed.  Oh and your banging was naughty and rude. You will need a spanking and a mouth soaping after breakfast.” Roberta talked to her Mom and the neighbor girls before breakfast. The three families had breakfast together.

Mrs Brown and Mrs Harrison were part of the audience Roberta was very interested in sports. She had a very strong left hand. She also knew more about who Deedee was that Deedee did herself. Deedee had been warned what to do. Her babysitter demanded the same respect as her Aunt. Eloise giggled as she saw Deedee curtsey and offer the hairbrush to Roberta as she asked to be spanked.

The spanking lasted 40 minutes. Actually it was rather too long. After fifteen minutes the child had totally surrendered to bawling and kicking. Deedee found herself wondering whether the spanking would ever end. Deedee got the impression that Roberta was enjoying giving her this spanking. She was quite correct.

That made it both more painful and, if possible, even more shaming. After the spanking Roberta asked Eloise to do the mouth soaping. She felt that the younger girl’s smaller hand could get in and scrub more effectively Deedee spent Saturday afternoon ironing not only her own school uniform but also those or Roberta, Diana and Eloise. Deedee did not feel inclined to challenge Roberta. Her bottom as sore enough already

     *********

In the days after she fully comprehended what her granddaughter had done Sylvia did more checking. It was clear that what she wanted to happen in a medical/surgical sense could be achieved. Sylvia talked to her former daughter in law and to her other granddaughter. She was shocked to hear how cruel Deidre had been four years earlier to Roberta.

Anne too was appalled at how evil her own daughter had become. She kind of reassured herself with the knowledge that Ann Brown, though Deidre’s mother had exercised very little control over the girl’s upbringing after the age of 11 months. Sylvia tried to excuse her late husband. He had let both his son and his granddaughter become totally spoiled.

He had always meant well. He had probably loved Deidre too much and in not quite the right ways. “Still he would quite like the person we are going to create.” She had remarked. Plainly what was being planned was illegal. That was part of the reason this particular chat took place on a Caribbean island. The conspiracy would not have happened in the US.

The authorities on the island would probably not be able to extradite them if things came out, which they would not. Sylvia had one final argument: “Deidre has said that there should be a death penalty for ALL killers. She is just as surely the killer of Mayor Lubbock as if she had shot him. This way in a sense she gets to survive and to understand what she has done.

On the other hand in a very real sense Deidre Brewster-Lodge will be no more if this all works out.” Deidre attended Mayor Lubbock’s funeral, along with the whole of her state’s political leadership. It was during the actual service that he got a text message. One of the American surgeons who had told her that surgery for her height was illegal had left her a telephone message

A doctor Bengle had a chat with Deidre. “In public I can do things to hide what I look like underneath. That’s part of why I have managed to take the silver ring thing so seriously. If I had sex with a guy he would figure out how short I was. Plus I am not sure that breast implants will do the trick. I need some way of getting actual flesh here.

Deidre patted her front. She was wearing a bra which did indeed give the impression that she had breasts of only slightly less than the average size. The doctor was a professional. Deidre did not know that surgery was not his only calling. “So let me see what you really look like and I will see what can be done.”

It was the first time in well over twenty years that Deidre had been naked in front of a man. Even when she lived with her grandparents she had been very modest. Still she knew that one day a male would have to see her. And this way there was the prospect of her appearance changing. The doctor saw the young woman naked.

She was five foot one. Her breasts would more or less fill a ‘b’ cup. She also looked young in other ways. Deidre saw herself in the mirror. She had tried to avoid this when she was naked. “See, anyone looking at me without the heels and the wonder bra, would think I was, at best, fifteen.” The doctor showed what were apparently before and after photographs. They did indeed look very impressive. He then explained:

“I propose a rather radical series of surgeries. These would not be possible here in the US but in my country it will be different. We will also have to use general anaesthetics. However I assure you that when we are finished NOBODY will think that you are fifteen. It was four weeks before the deadline for filing for the Governor election Primaries.

Deidre felt that she had achieved all she could as Education Commissioner. She also felt that she needed some rest away from her work. People were rather surprised at the Education Commissioner’s sudden absence. Deidre wanted to keep her surgery a total secret. She believed that people might not notice she had achieved the same height without special heels. They would certainly not know what was under the top of her pants suit.

She did really fancy a certain reporter who loved her face and was a soul mate. By the time they got married, 3 months before the main Governor election, Deidre would be two inches taller in bare feet and have real boobies. She had heard that Ralph liked breasts. So Deidre took off on a Lear jet instead of a scheduled airliner.

All the regulations were adhered to but few people in the US need find out that she would be abroad. Furthermore Deidre was sure that a few hundred dollars to the relevant people in the Central Asian Republic would mean that nobody would mention anything. The consent papers, not in English were read to Deidre.

They referred to height and breast size adjustments. Deidre figured that the odd term was simply a matter of poor translation. Eight days after she left for the C.A.R. Deidre was front page news. The plane that was carrying her home had disappeared over an especially deep part of the Atlantic. It seemed on checking maintenance logs that the rather old aircraft had several faults including in the radio, and the fuel gauge. There may also have been a fuel leak.

The log said the pilot was a 62 year old called Harry Nixon. He had been near retirement. He had been resisting alimony and child support payments. Actually Harry had been very happy to accept a large untraceable payment and a new identity in Alberta, Canada. James Duke, a much more skilled man had, in fact was at the controls.

He had made sure that the fuel leak would not cause an actual fire. He set the automatic pilot and let the empty plane crash. Blood samples had been obtained both from Nixon and from Commissioner Brewster-Lodge. In the unlikely event of the plane being recovered there would be some DNA evidence tending to show that they were dead.  Then Duke would paraglide to safety

Deidre was not in pain. She had recovered from the surgery. However she was in a tank of body temperature water with breathing and feeding done by tube. She got all kinds of messages through ear plugs. Mostly she was to sleep for the following couple of months.

 A lot of care was taken with the medication. Deidre should believe that she was an amnesiac. However the memories were not to be destroyed. The folk who paid for the treatment wanted to make sure that, at the proper time, the young lady would remember everything.

     *********

Deedee’s second week at her new school was to be the last before summer. Deedee did try to control herself. However twice she managed to earn herself paddlings.  These related to misbehaviour which was not linked to lying or rudeness. It was her laziness and poor quality actual school work. The paddlings were reported to Aunt Alice. Her Aunt decided that she needed to be punished more seriously for her school misbehavior.

 So on Tuesday and Thursday Deedee had further trips across her Aunt’s lap. Her bottom already a bit red from the paddling (over her panties) became much brighter red after long spankings on her bare rear with the heavy hairbrush. Certain lessons over run in any school. This happened on Wednesday and Friday in Deedee’s case.

The result was that the line for the bathroom was longer by the time. Just before she got to the cubical on Wednesday Deedee found she did not need the bathroom any more. Nurse Cooper remarked: “It looks like you are going to be a regular visitor here.” Teasing that afternoon made Deedee even more nervous as she tried to do her out loud reading.

On Friday lunchtime, the last day before summer, Deedee’s muscles gave up as soon as she saw the line for the bathroom. She cried as she soaked her panties Physical education was a nightmare for Deedee. She had those lessons early on Mondays and late on Friday. Miss McReady and the other girls teased her a lot. Several times she tripped up and fell to the floor.

 Having Phys Ed as her last lesson before summer was not Deedee’s idea of fun. Miss McReady insisted that Deedee try to really use her muscles. Unfortunately whilst she was trying to use her arms on the parallel bars other muscles gave way. It was a good thing that, after the incident at lunch time, Nurse Cooper had put Deedee into thick training panties. Still there was a slight puddle.

Deedee was very glad that she would be away from school for some months. She was gladder still that he Aunt Alice would be away Deedee had some odd dreams. In her dreams she was a powerful important and definitely adult person. Then she would wake up in her childish cabin bed in what was plainly a little girl’s room. Usually her goodnite was soggy when she woke up.

On the first Saturday of the long summer, her aunt told Deedee to sort out newspapers for recycling. She saw a story in a three month old edition about Deidre Brewster-Lodge’s airplane having crashed in the Atlantic. She started thinking that she was ‘really’ this powerful Education Commissioner.

Deedee made sure to read the whole of the obituary. It appeared that Deidre Brewster-Lodge had been virtually certain to become Governor. There was speculation that, if a Moderate got the Republican Presidential nomination two years hence, Miss Brewster-Lodge would balance the ticket and become Vice President. She would only just be 35.

   ******

 A very special cargo container went on a long slow journey. Throughout its travels there were experts on hand. The person in the warm water container was aware of very little. The surgeon had been skilled and the pain killers very good. It would have taken a very close examination for a doctor to have found the signs of the various surgeries the passenger had undergone.

The young woman was almost without personal memory when she woke up on a soft bed. For the following few weeks she was given some lessons. The area was secluded. The floor had been specially treated to ensure that falls would not hurt her. The timing of the last part of the plan was crucial. The skilled Actress told Miss Alice Brown about how her brother had been a total wastrel. (This was indeed true.) Alice knew her brother had disappeared without trace leaving rather large debts. This statement was also true.

Anthony Brown had also found lady. The lady, who was unknown to Alice’s family, had given birth to a daughter. Unfortunately this daughter had died. The statements made about Deedee’s childhood and behaviour were true. She had indeed been allowed to get away with bad behaviour. She had indeed always got her way. She had been VERY naughty. The actress told the Aunt:

“Some of her misbehaviour could have killed people. It was embarrassing to be the mother of such a monstrous brat. I now know that she needs to have a firm hand. I believe that you could help improve Deedee’s behavior.“I think that you are related to one of her neighbours. The idea is that you will make sure she fits in at school in that very strict system. I think the neighbours will help you. They are rather permissive with their own kids, but they understand that it went too far with Deedee.”

 Alice really looked forward to the challenge. There were some delays in travel arrangements. She was to take charge that Thursday evening  Aunt Alice had been told that Deedee’s bedroom door had been locked. She was appalled when she found the window open and Deedee missing. She called the police and others. Sylvia Brewster-Lodge had found out that a girl called Deedee Brown had died. Actually the girl had been a few months younger than Sylvia had first thought of.

A suitable passport was obtained. Sylvia watched from a distance. She had herself packed things for ‘Deedee’. Although ‘the child’ had learned to walk with her new stature she was a little unsteady. She had needed an especially heavy dose of medication. Soon Deedee was asleep in her sleeping car. The next scheduled stop would be the following morning, just south of the Canadian border.

Alice contacted her upstairs neighbors;, Anne Brown and her daughter Roberta. It was Roberta who eventually suggested that the computer be checked. It appeared that Deedee had used her mother’s credit card to buy a train ticket to Canada on a sleeper. The railroad would not stop the car. However it would be possible for Aunt Alice to book a flight. The railroad station and small airport were next to each other.

Aunt Alice looked forward to making very full use of her hairbrush. She would also make sure that controls would be in place so that the brat would not be able to use the computer except when her aunt was able to monitor it in real time. Alice knew that school rules forbade cell phones. Her home rules would do the same in Deedee’s case.

    ********

 

[cute little kokiri girl]

PART THREE

Roberta knew that her mother and Patricia Harrison both had a lot of stuff to catch up from with their jobs. She also knew that Alice had a lot of packing to do. She walked up to the Children’s clothing shop. She had an idea Roberta’s hopes seemed practical. She was even more pleased when a lady came in with a particularly chubby 3 year old.

The clerk at the shop was able to find reins fitting the fat little guy. The clerk assured Roberta that they had other items that would be needed. The other adults agreed with Roberta’s idea. She went on her own to make one purchase, which she left at Patricia Harrison’s home. They had lunch at Patricia’s. The neighbors lived in what had once been a single rather large house. On one side a smaller house had been created.

This suited the needs of Patricia Harrison, Diana, Eloise and Beatrice. This worked especially well as much of Mr Harrison’s work was overseas. The other half of the large house became two apartments. Each was just about adequate for a single parent/guardian and one child. Roberta had some news for Deedee at lunch

“Eloise has agreed to help with Beery’s potty training. From what happened at school yesterday Deedee also needs some help in that area. So Diana and I will help Deedee. So we need to get Deedee some new clothes.” Alice gave Roberta some money. Diana held one of Deedee’s hand and Roberta the other. She was walked to the kids clothing store. “Have you got any training panties which would fit this young lady? She has been having quite a lot of accidents.”

 The shop was rather full. Deedee felt very embarrassed. She could do nothing to resist this new indignity. Roberta purchased six pairs of pink and white terry cotton training panties designed for plumper toddlers and children who were slow at potty training. Roberta took Deedee into the changing room.

 Deedee was aware of the thickness of her new underwear as she was walked home. There was further bad news for Deedee. “Deedee you know Beeby is a LITTLE girl. People know it is hard for very little people to cope with the potty. So of course as soon as she needs the potty she will go on it. However Deedee is a rather bigger girl. People expect a bit more. So your potty training will be a bit harder.

“Firstly every two hours you will drink a pint of fluid. Secondly although you need to tell your babysitter when you need the potty you may have to wait until people are not busy. Can you manage that little one?” There was nobody else on the sidewalk to hear this humiliating information. Still Deedee felt very embarrassed.

 Deedee arrived home. Roberta told her: “Time for your first pint.” The other adults were still there. Deedee had a question. “Do I have to drink a pint glass of milk?” Roberta had an idea. “If you prefer it you can have the milk in four sippy cups full. Which would you prefer?” Deedee saw Aunt Alice smiling and nodding.

The adults went upstairs. Roberta addressed Deedee and Beeby. “Why don’t the little girls play together whilst they are being trained together?” There was a little table. On it were some large bricks and small dolls. Beeby played with them. Deedee felt she had no alternative but to join the toddler. Deedee started to be aware of a certain feeling. She went up the stairs, where the bathroom was. She found a rather tall child gate there. Roberta followed her.

“When little Deedee wants the potty she must ask her babysitter.” Deedee came down the stairs. She heard the other little one. “Want potty.” In seconds Eloise had the not yet two year old child’s training panties down and sat her on the potty chair. Deedee noticed that Beery’s training panties were colored and styled identical to her own.

Humiliating though it was Deedee had a question. “May I use the bathroom please?” Roberta said: “That’s NOT how people needing potty training ask.” Deedee was now worried. She tried to oblige. “Pretty please can Deedee go potty?” Roberta’s reply was: “As soon as Roberta’s finished this chapter.”

Deedee noticed her babysitter picking up a book just as she made the request. Deedee again joined Beeby in playing with dolls. It was humiliating. It was also getting harder to concentrate on dressing the Barbie whilst she was putting some effort into keeping her panties dry. At last Roberta put down her book.

“So Deedee needs the potty.” Deedee nodded vigorously. Then came a surprise. Deedee had expected to be taken upstairs to the bathroom. Instead, Diana pulled out a potty chair, in a slightly larger size but similar style to Beeby’s. Roberta pulled up Deedee’s dress. Diana pulled down her training panties. Roberta guided Deedee’s bottom onto the potty chair.  

For a couple of seconds Deedee’s desperate need disappeared. Then she relieved herself. Her pee pee sounded much louder than Beeby’s  had half an hour earlier. There was a reason for that. Roberta had replaced the plastic inner potty with an enamel one. It had much better acoustics. For the next two days Deedee repeatedly submitted to this humiliating procedure. She noticed that Roberta was gradually extending the time she had to wait for the potty. It was getting more and more uncomfortable and worrying.

 Deedee was not stupid. Ten minutes before she was due to have her 4pm pint of fluid on Tuesday she had a question: “Can Deedee go potty?” Fifty minutes later Deedee was put onto the childish potty. She had avoided the stress and discomfort. Just after that there was a further humiliation for Deedee. It did not directly affect her but made Deedee feel very uncomfortable.

 Eloise asked: “Does Beeby want to go on the big girl potty?” The toddler nodded her head. Diana went ahead and undid the gate. Eloise carried the child into the bathroom. After she was carried downstairs Beeby announced: “Me goed big potty.” Roberta had a question for Deedee "Isn’t Little Beeby clever, Deedee? It hurt her inside but Deedee said: “Beeby is very clever.”

 A few times Deedee banged down her toys. She resented having to play nicely with a toddler. On each occasion she got taken upstairs. Down came her training panties. Then Roberta, Eloise and Dianna each took a turn at spanking her. Although Eloise was smaller and weaker than the other girls the humiliation of such a small person being able to hurt her with a spanking added even more to her shame.

Not for the first time Deedee felt things could not get worse. She could not be more humiliated. Deedee was wrong. Five minutes before she was due to drink her noon pint of liquid the next day: “Deedee need potty.” She got a surprise. Roberta immediately lifted her dress and Eloise pulled down her training panties. She was sat on the potty. Deedee tried her best but only produced a very little bit of urine.

“Deedee you lied when you said that you needed the potty you need to be punished.” Deedee did not know what her punishment would be. She soon found out. After drinking her pint glass of water she was given four sippy cups, also with water. However the water in the sippy cups was very soapy. By twelve forty Deedee’s need was clear enough:

“Can Deedee go potty?” It was Eloise who announced: “Deedee have to wait.” Lunch was agony for Deedee.  She was putting her whole strength into one thing. Lunch did not taste nice either. She had not been allowed to rinse away the soapy water from her mouth. Ten minutes before two PM Deedee lost the battle. Her training panties reduced but did not eliminate the puddle

It was Eloise who took charge. “Had little Deedee had an Accident. Never mind. Eloise make you all nice and clean.” Deedee was laid on the floor. Eloise removed the soggy trainers. She washed around that special area with baby wipes. It felt all too much like a diaper change. Just before bedtime that evening Roberta announced:

“After this afternoon’s performance I think someone needs a spanking. Don’t you?” This spanking was different. Deedee was laid on her back. Anne held up her legs. “I think the diaper position is most appropriate this evening.” Diana and Roberta did a double spanking each using a hairbrush. Deedee cried a lot. She was not able to kick or struggle because her legs were being held.

Roberta insisted on actually putting the goodnite onto Deedee. Deedee kept having dreams about being important and powerful. She recognized her grandmother, though was not quite sure how. These dreams of great power always ended with Deedee waking up in a childish bed and bedroom and a wet goodnite.

Roberta consulted grandma. She agreed. Some tasteless powder was added to Deedee’s fluid intake. Over the next two days Deedee had three accidents. Each time she cried. She was relieved not to be spanked when she wet her training panties. It did not help Deedee’s self image that little Beeby not only always managed to get to the potty but also that it was usually the ‘big girl’ potty upstairs.

On Friday Deedee managed three day time accidents. Grandma and Roberta went to the shop with Patricia and Beeby. It was Roberta who made the announcement. There were eight other customers there. “We have two young ladies who do not need training panties anymore. Beatrice has not had any accidents for two weeks. She really deserves big girl panties.”

The grandmother addressed her small neighbour. “Aren’t you a clever little person? Beatrice.” Beeby did recognize her proper name and smiled and nodded. Roberta continued. “Unfortunately little Deedee here had three accidents yesterday. Training panties help but we cannot have more puddles. Have you got cloth diapers and plastic panties in Deedee’s size?”

*(until a couple of weeks earlier Deedee could not have imagined anything worse than training panties. As it turned out she had to let the 16 year old firmly fasten her into bulky three cloth diapers. Deedee used ‘ducky diaper pins. The Roberta and pulled up Deedee’s plastic panties It was very obvious to anyone who saw Deedee walking back home that she had bulky underwear.

Deedee discovered that things could get still worse. There was an isolated path by their back yard. It was public but not much used. Grandma decided that it was a good idea for everyone to have a walk. Beeby travelled in a stroller. This time Roberta did not hold Deedee’s hand. Instead she strapped her into reins.

Grandma had some further news for Deedee. “We have decided that you might be easier to potty train if you learned what not being potty trained was like. You will not be using either the big girl or the little girl potty at all for the next week.” Roberta smiled. “And just to make sure.” Deedee did not resist as mittens were slipped over her hands. She would now not be able to undo the reins or unpin her diapers.

After half an hour Deedee had another feeling: “I REALLY need the bathroom.” Eloise told her: “That’s what diapers are for.” They still did seem to understand. “But I don’t mean..” Patricia stuffed a pacifier into her mouth and used some sticky tape to keep it in place. Five minutes later it happened. Deedee started to cry. Beatrice said her first proper sentence

“Deedee’s didy id stinky.” When she got home there was another surprise for Deedee. Diana had done some work on a tall bar stool. It was the stool she had been forced to put her very sore bottom, on a few weeks earlier and write those punishment lines. Now it was a high chair. However there were extra straps as well as the tray.

Deedee was strapped into the chair. Her weight was on her messy diapers and equally icky bottom. Sylvia Brewster-Lodge then addressed her granddaughter “I think that now is the right time for your shots.” The humiliated young woman could see herself in the mirror. Her dress did not entirely hide her diapers. Grandma had adjusted things to make the diapers even more visible. She could not resist being given an injection.

Things started to come back to Deedee. She was now sure that her real name was Deidre. She had to listen as her grandmother addressed her. The pacifier stopped Deedee from commenting “I tried to love you,. Deidre. I forgave you your political extremism.  What I could not forgive was your cruelty and corruption.

“You are the person who said she REALLY believed in Capital punishment and felt that ALL killers should die. I know all about the set up and the forged passport with Mike Lubbock. Can you seriously deny that your actions, your manipulations and lies killed a good man.” The ridiculous looking figure had to shake her head. She could not deny it

“I was not prepared to risk you becoming Governor, let alone anything more. You were so vain about your appearance. You hated your shortness and small breasts. You did not like it that you looked like a 15 year old when naked. Well now you do not look fifteen when naked. I would say something between eight and twelve.

“You did not like struggling to fill a ‘B’ cup. Well I hope you agree that the "A" cup suites your maturity. You did not like being five foot two, well now you are four foot ten. “You happened to once have an exceptionally large and strong bladder. You did not understand other people’s problems. If I had not given birth to your father I would not have fifty years of bladder problems.

“By the way, I too have had some surgery, and I have not needed any protection for the last 6 weeks.” As she was listening to this lecture Deedee Brown (formerly Deidre Brewster-Lodge) felt her bladder giving way and she soaked her already messy diapers. “So we felt experiencing a slight challenge to your bladder would do you some good.  I wonder what you now think of the wisdom of Commissioner Brewster-Lodge’s decision abolishing bathroom passes in public schools

“The Surgeons in the C.A.R. was also able to adjust your voice. “The good news is that you get to grow up again. If you are very good there are some hormone treatments that will let you regain boobies and even some height. “Your voice will need surgery. Again if you are good...” There was more unfortunate news for Deedee.

She would get some chances to use her hands and even be in the bathroom. She would be responsible for hand washing her own diapers. Deedee sat next to Beeby at lunch. There were some difference. Beeby was allowed to feed herself and Deedee was spoon fed. Also she noticed their bibs.  Beeby/ Beatrice had a bib that said “Future President”

Deedee/Deidre’s bib was a little different. Another word in big letters had been embroidered.  It said “Former Future President” Beeby’s crib had originally belonged to twins. Deedee had thought that getting out of that infantile cabin bed would be lovely. She felt differently when she swapped sleeping accommodation with the not yet two year old.

Deedee was very glad when a week later they started sitting her on the potty. It was nearly a month before her diapers were replaced by training panties. By the time schools returned from the long summer break, Deedee was back in ‘big girl’ panties During the rest of the summer Deedee did suffer some spankings.

However they were much rarer. The thought of her younger sister hurting and humiliating her was a rather effective deterrent. Just before she went back to school Deedee made lots of apologies. Deedee did seem likely to rebel a couple of times over the following four years. Short visits over Roberta’s lap was accompanied by the reminder that the basement still contained her high chair, crib, baby reins cloth diapers.

In many ways five years in the unforgiving public school system Deidre Brewster-Lodge had created in that state would be no worse a fate than the corrupt former politician deserved. However Patricia and Anne were determined that the other girls would not suffer such a fate. They had some luck. There had been lots of scandals in the State’s Catholic Church.

Part of the process of addressing the crisis was the appointment of Mother Abigail Murphy to head the school system. Mother Murphy, whose nick name was “The Abbess”, took a very different view of education. Her schools very much reflected the social gospel. The paddle was abolished. Kids were encouraged to be kind and to think.

A young nun called Sister Constance realized that Deedee was troubled. She gave her a lot of time and kindness. By the time she was officially 18 (actually 39) Deedee had decided the best penance for her political career would be to become a Nun and to teach in very much the way “The Abbess” had promoted.

                                                                                                       The End.

From the author (PS I know some people will find my end too politically correct but it is hard to know where stories like this can go.)

[cute little kokiri girl]

McGirl.

By derry.

My name is Rosemary McLean. My life changed a lot for the better after we moved to McGirl. My brother, Oliver’s life changed too. I do not think he would say the change was for the better but it was certainly what he needed. The town of McGirl is actually named after an Irish man. However going back the Highland clearances of the early 1800s it has had strong links to Scotland.

Those links to carry on to this day. In the 1940s there was a rather big group of Scottish women arriving. Many had been shipyard workers who had met and married men on an American Cruiser the shipyard had been repairing. Sadly this group were mostly widowed mothers because the Cruiser was sunk by a U boat. I know all this because I did a project on the history of the town. I was not born in McGirl.

My Aunt Janet was. I remember when I had visited earlier in my life there were a few guys in what I first thought were skirts. It was explained that they wore kilts because of their Scottish heritage. Back then the kilt wearers were anything but sissies. They were incredibly macho and many got drunk a lot. Frankly I found them quite scary as a 10 year old.

Things changed. My dad had disappeared on us and Mom needed a job. There was a job in McGirl and we could stay with Aunt Janet who had inherited a home much bigger than she needed. So Oliver, Mom and I moved in, Oliver was then 16, I was 13. Oliver was an incredibly annoying brother. He was loud mouthed. He had got away with everything when dad was with us. Dad had always said: “Boys will be boys”.

That had meant that Oliver could do what he wanted. Mom ended up actually tidying my brother’s room. I, since age 10, had done my own washing and ironing. I had helped with the rest of the housework. My brother had done nothing. Things had change in McGirl that first Saturday. I noticed rather more males in kilts. They were mostly rather young men. They seemed to be VERY different from the guys who’d worn such things 3 years earlier.

Firstly they were very quiet boys. They seemed to be looking at the floor. Furthermore they were more or less always accompanied by a woman or perhaps a girl. Then there was the pattern of these kilts. Although they all looked like they might be a kind of tartan the colors were a bit different. They had a surprising amount of pink and very pale blue, not your typical tartan.

Girls told me something surprising on my first day at McGirl junior High. They said that when boys over 14 got too difficult they got ‘petticoated’.  They spend their days at home in childish dresses and had to do all of the housework. I had quickly made friends with a thoughtful girl called Leonie. She explained the town’s new customs: “I’m almost sorry not to have a brother. If a boy is badly behaved they often put a YOUNGER sister in charge of him. That would be a lot of fun. No ironing, no house work you don’t want to do. And then there’s all the teasing.”

I did not believe what I was hearing. “How do they make the boys put on the frocks?” “That’s the clever thing. You know we have some very capable young sportswomen. This town wins girls wrestling, soccer, field hockey and judo championships state-wide. At first a little encouragement is often needed. However once they are under petticoat control the young man is likely to be very isolated.”

I, of course, did not believe a word of this, though the idea amused me. On the way home from school, that first day, I got a chance to discover the truth. We met a lady holding her son’s hand. He was wearing a kilt with an odd tartan with a surprising amount of pink. I was astonished by how forward Leonie was “Tommy, or is that Tammy, real Scotsmen wear nothing under their kilts. What have you got underneath?”

The boy looked at the ground. His mother said. “Are you going to tell the nice girls about your underwear?” He still looked at the ground. He looked scared but did not want to confess. His mother intervened “Okay, I’ll SHOW them.” She reached down and pulled up the kilt a little. A frilly petticoat became visible. “Are you going to TELL them about your other underwear or?” He said, quietly but I heard “I’m wearing frilly pink panties.”

I invited Leonie to my home. We watched an interesting soap opera. Oliver arrived. He immediately grabbed the remote and changed channel to one showing sports. He also turned the sound right up. I asked him to turn the sound down. He yelled: “I’ll have the TV on at a proper volume, shut up!” A little later Mom arrived home from work. I talked to her: “This is my new friend Leonie, can she stay for dinner?”

“Yes darling.” Then Oliver asked: “What’s for dinner?” “Cauliflower cheese!” “Can’t we have some proper food?” “I think you should at least sometimes eat healthily.” “Well if we’re not having proper food I’ll go to McDonalds.” He then picked up a $20 bill from the kitchen table, left and slammed the door. Over dinner I mentioned my brother’s behaviour. Then there was a knock on the door.

“I’m Ms Peters. I would like to talk to you about your son. May I come in?” It turned out that my brother had called him ‘a bitch’ in front of other kids. He had also started a food fight on his first day at school. Aunt Janet had the answer: “I think that we should take Oliver or Ollie to Ms Watson’s boy’s department.” The junior High closed a little earlier than the High School.  Mom gave me some money for clothes. There were two entrances at Ms Watson’s shop.

There were windows outside the girl’s department. There were choices of many kinds of dress, skirt, top and pants. I spent quite a while choosing some especially fashionable pairs of jeans from the girl’s department. The boy’s department was different. There were two sets of doors. You walked through one. It swung closed before you went into the place itself. I had told Annabelle Green one of the assistants that my brother was likely to visit their boy’s department. “Do you want to watch what happens?”

“Do I ever!” I went into the shop a few minutes before my brother was due in. I opened the outer door and walked through the short passage. “We’ve come to see my brother’s first visit!” I explained. I saw a guy of about 17. He was wearing a kilt. His younger sister was with him: “Please let me wear a jumper.” His sister asked, knowing British English as well: “Are you going to curtsey and say? “‘Pretty please may I have a pinafore dress?’”

He curtsied and said, “Pretty please may I wear a pinafore dress?” The girl, looking about aged 10, smiled: “Mom said if you got any more ‘Ds’ you’d wear a sailor dress. Eleanor, could you help my brother with the fitting?” A tall woman took the boy’s hand. He was near tears as she walked him into a fitting room. I heard the outer door open. Then I heard my aunt’s voice:

“We’ve got a new customer.” A lady pressed a button. I heard a mechanical lock. Aunt Janet, Mom and my brother entered. Oliver looked around. He saw lots of dresses and very feminine outfits sized for adolscant boys but styled for girls aged, at most, 8 or 9. He was confused and said: “Hey, there’s been a mistake.” The tall Ms Watson said: “We provide clothes for naughty boys who are too BOIsterous. Was there a mistake Mrs McLean?”

Mom smiled “No Ms Watson.” Oliver yelled: “You’re crazy.” He ran through the inner door. He found that the outer door was firmly shut and locked. Two very tall and large young ladies followed him. Mom talked to him. “Now would you undress so that Eleanor here can fit you frock?” He shook his head. “So you are disobeying me?” He nodded his head. Ms Watson asked Mom:

“Should we take your son to the naughty boys’ room?” “Yes, Ms Watson, and I think Rosemary and her friend might want to watch.” Ms Watson picked up a phone: “Karen, we need your special skills.” A half a minute later a third large, strong if slightly shorter young lady appeared.  I followed Karen into a room with a large armless chair in the middle. Karen talked asked a question: “Oliver, we know that you need a spanking. Are you going to ask nicely for it and let me pull down your pants and undies and assume the position across my lap?”

His answer was an attempt to pull away from the other girls. There was a brief struggle. It ended with Karen sitting down. Stacey, one of the other young ladies firmly held his hands. Marcie, the other, held his feet. He was placed over Karen’s knees. She undid his pants and pulled them to his knees. His underpants came down enough to give her a target.

“There’s an art and science to spanking naughty boys.” Karen explained. She hit him a dozen times with her hand. They looked like quite heavy blows to me. “That was the warm up. Rosemary, would you go and ask Eleanor for the special hairbrush?” I obeyed. The ‘special hairbrush’ was heavier than any I hand known. It also had some metal on its back. “Whap!” He gritted his teeth. “Whap!” He cringed and was close to tears. “Whap!”

He was in tears. Three further heavy hairbrush blows followed. Then Karen talked to him: “I think that you are now nearly ready for a chat. Mrs McLean could you ask Ms Watson for the special oil.” Mom went out and came back with a small container. Karen continued: “This makes your nerves especially sensitive. It takes about a minute to take effect.”

She carefully spread the oil on the target area. He was silent and scared. The next hairbrush blow seemed even heavier and the ‘WHAP’ louder.. However in a split second it was drowned out by his yell of pain. “You see why this room has to be sound proofed Remarked Marcie.” Two more blows followed. Each followed by a VERY loud yelp. Then more childish tears came as there was a pause.

“Now are you going to be a good child and ask Eleanor to fit you with suitable clothing or do you want a dozen more blows from my, followed by a dozen on the other butt from Marcie, who is left handed.” My brother was still near to tears as he was allowed up and went over to Eleanor: “Please fit me for a little girl dress?”

[cute little kokiri girl]

Karen explained how things would follow. “The naughty boys’ room is also a fitting room I think that Ollie should stay standing as he is.” Mom nodded. My brother was standing with his trousers around his ankles and his underpants around his knees. His very red ass was visible. As we had discussed earlier I went out and I offered my brother some possible clothes. They were a jumper, a blouse and a pair of definitely girlish but rather plain panties. I guess they looked a lot like I wore and say 8 or 9.

“How would you like to wear this dress and these panties?” I asked in a friendly manner. He said nothing, I think that he did not dare say he did not like what was on offer but, after his spanking, he would not directly say "no." Mom said: “It’s alright Ollie; I can see you don’t like the clothes Rosemary chose. That’s fine. I think you should have something prettier and more in keeping with your emotional age.”

Mom then picked up a more childish dress. It was very fussy. It had a sewn in petticoat. I remember a photo of me in such a frock; I must have been 3 or at most 4 at the time. The new frock also buttoned up at the back. There were a lot of very small buttons there. It would be impossible for him to unbutton the garment himself. My brother did not resist as Mom unbuttoned and removed his shirt.

“I think you should step out of your pants.” Mom said, and he complied. He did not resist as Mom pushed his arms into the arms of the dress. Then she talked to me: “Rosemary, would you button up your brother’s pretty new dress?” I did so. Actually given the smallness of the button and button holes it might have taken a while for anyone. I made sure to do this as slowly as possible. I pointed to a mirror. He just let me do what I wanted.

When I was nearly finished Mom came back. She offered a pair of panties. They had a cartoon figure, Minnie Mouse. Mom then reached and pulled down his boyish, now inappropriate, underpants to his ankles. “Lift this foot.” He obeyed and the underpants were removed from his left foot, “Lift this foot.” Not only did Mom take off his boy undies but also slipped on the little girl panties.

“Now the other foot.” The childish panties were slipped on and pulled up under the new dress. A further instruction followed: “Sit down child.” He obeyed. Then Mom gave me some socks. “Would you put the child’s socks on him?” I did so. The socks were very bright white. They just went to his ankles. They had cartoon pink rabbits on them. Next came very black, t-bar sandals, which I slipped onto his feet and fastened them for him.

You can imagine that he looked quite a sight when he walked out of the room into the main part of the shop. As he did so I saw an interesting thing. Another young man, in a skirt and blouse, was curtseying “Thank your for my skirt.” He curtsied “Thank you for my pantyhose.” He curtsied. “Thank you for my blouse,” He again showed girlish respect. An 8 year old girl was sitting down. He looked about 16. His Mom was watching. I had a question for my brother.

“Do you know how to curtsey?” He shook his head. I then asked the 8 year old “Could your brother teach my brother to curtsey?” “Tammy, teach the boy to curtsey.” The next half an hour was very comical. My brother’s efforts, even at the end, were not that good. At the end he repeatedly curtsied thanking me for his sandals, his Minnie mouse panties, his socks with pink rabbits, and finally for the pretty dress.

Finally Ms Watson came out. “Ollie, although it would probably do you good we feel you cannot wear you pretty dress outside. You can wear this skirt.” She showed him the tartan garment. There was a surprising amount of pink in the tartan pattern. “Lots of people will think this is a kilt. But it is not, it is a tartan elasticized skirt.” I held my brother’s hand on our walk home. I knew, and so did 80% of those looking at him, that under the skirt disguised as a kilt he wore a petticoat and childish panties.

As soon as we got home we got my brother out of the kilt- or rather tartan skirt, petticoat and blouse and into a properly childish frock. Then we showed him a VERY large pile of ironing. Just at that moment the doorbell rang. It was Karen from the shop: “I think I should explain about AAG. It stands for Assertive Athletic Girls. You know I have hopes of becoming a professional tennis player.

Mom, she’s a widow, originally decided to come to this town because the Gym department at the High School heard of me and kind of head hunted me. McGirl wins every single competitive women’s sport event around here, sometimes State wide and sometimes wider than that. “It is also great to live in a town where you know ALL girls, that is all REAL girls and women feel safe and ARE safe. That’s what AAG does.

“There are about a dozen of us on call  any given night between 11pm and 7am who can be called by a Mom or sister. We have thirty on duty during the day. If an overgrown child is too BOIsterous and does not want to wear a pretty frock or wash dishes they phone- 1 800 AAG. “Then three of us will turn up. The boy will find himself over two different knees.

He will be spanked 20 times on each with full force and with the special oil that makes asses especially sensitive to pain stimuli. Then we will ask: ‘“Do you want another spanking in half an hour or do you want to do what you are told?”’ Then Karen took out three large posters: “Is he too BOYsterous? Call 1-800-AAG, any time. No charge.” AAG actually had about a hundred members. They had rotas. Karen went on:

“I was really glad to be called down to deal with Ollie here…” She gently patted his butt, whilst he carried on trying to iron my pants. “The thing is it is usually only kids going to Ms Watson’s for the first time that need our services. “We also give spanking lessons. We only actually have members from 16 to 25. But we like to train and encourage younger girls...”

I was, and am, quite athletic. I liked this idea. “The full deal with three of us and the oil and all that is a last resort. The average 13 year old can learn to give a spanking that a bad boy will hate and not want to repeat. This reminds me my colleagues should be here soon. Someone forgot to say thank you for their spanking.” After a bit more ironing by my brother and chatting to Karen the door went. We then had some more fun. Ollie curtsied and said

“Thank you Ms Marcie, for helping with my spanking. “Thank you Ms Stacey for helping with my spanking “Thank you very much Ms Karen for spanking me. I really needed that spanking.” Aunt Janet ordered Pizza, Ollie’s favourite. Mom told him: “Because of the way you have behaved you will go to bed without supper. I am sure you will smell it. After what you did to your sister you yesterday you do need a spanking. I think it would help for Rosemary’s first lesson.”

Karen advised me. “Now if the naughty one is going to have to submit and not be held you need to pick just the right kind of chair. This will be excellent. You see you can feel comfortable but Ollie here will feel unsteady and worry about falling If he does that just means you have to start the spanking again. “Now you know you need to go across Rosemary’s knees.”

I sat down. He assumed the position. Karen went on: “Lift the skirt of the dress. With this one you do not need to lift the petticoat separately because it is sewn in. You want to make sure that it does not get in the way. I find large safety pins do the job wonderfully.” I continued to follow the instruction. I pulled down the Minnie Mouse panties, but only so they were out of the way.

I really enjoyed landing blow after blow on his butt with the heavy hairbrush. As I happen to be left handed the relevant half of his bottom had started off white as a sheet. It ended up red as a rose. Better still I managed to get him to really cry. Karen advised: “A spanking is NEVER over until the boy is really crying. Sometimes you need to go on but I think there is other business tonight.”

Mom took him up to the bathroom. I watched. After supervising his bath she applied hair remover to his legs and also his face. “Big girls wear nighties. Little girls wear jamies.” The pair he was offered also had cartoon figures on them. (From about age 6 I would have refused to put on such babyish night clothes.) He heard the door bell go. “Oh and there is one more part of your anatomy that needs cleaning.”

Up came Ms Peters: “Did you use naughty words to Ms Peters?” He nodded: “I think that mouths that use naughty words need to be cleaned out. Have you something to ask” He did “Pretty please wash my mouth with soap Ms Peters.” She did so with a lot of enthusiasm, and I then realized, quite a lot of experience. She spent twenty minutes with the wash cloth and the carbolic soap. Then he was put to bed. I am sure he smelled the Pizza and heard us having a great time. He was in bed by 8pm.

Leonie had a sister called Molly, who was in the third grade in the elementary school. They had started giving beginning classes on “Home Economics and Home Making”. Perhaps surprisingly, in view of the kind of town  McGirl is, the young students attending this class tended to be girls.

However, the elementary school and the High School cooperated. There were lots of young men who now NEEDED lessons in this kind of thing. It was arranged that these lessons be provided. The boys, aged 14-19 were walked to the Elementary school by a teacher. However most of those in each lesson were girls aged 8-10. It was not an accident that the girls nearly always wore pants when they were learning with the bigger boys.

I doubt that even one of the girls in the class were unaware that the boys had petticoats and panties under their ‘kilts’. That evening Molly told us what happened, whilst Ollie, in his pretty frock, scrubbed the kitchen floor. I was surprised how loudly the 3rd grader could talk. “We had a practical test of needlecraft. Then we had some quizzes. It was so funny.

All those big boys came last in the class. Maybe they should be in Kindergarten Home Ec class, would you like that Ollie?” He carried on scrubbing. I asked “Would you like to be in a Home Economics class with kindergarten girls Ollie?” He paused. “Well, I will have to deal with rudeness but I still want an answer.” He said: “I would not like to be with kindergarten girls but if teacher tells me to I will do what I am told.”

After the kitchen floor had been washed I looked. I said: “That’s not good enough. You must wash it again. But first you need to be punished. I need you go across my knees.” He obeyed. I wanted to maximize the humiliation. I asked for Molly’s help. The dress Ollie had on now had a separate petticoat. I asked Molly: “Would you lift Ollie’s dress out of the way?

“Would you lift Ollie’s petticoat out of the way? Now use these pins to keep them out of the way.” He was lying uncomfortably in the childish position. The much younger child fixed fastened the skirts of his dress and petticoat out of the way. “Are these diaper pins, like for old fashioned cloth diapers?” I smiled and nodded “Yes they are.” I pulled down his panties. They had cartoon elephants on them. Few girls over age of 4 would choose such underwear.

The first twenty whaps came with my hand. I could tell it hurt him a bit. I gave further instruction: “Molly, would you get the hairbrush from the hook on my bedroom door?” She obeyed: “Whap, whap, whap.”[/b] By the fifth blow he was starting to cry. I looked at the clock it was twenty five minutes after five. I carried on the spanking until half past. “Now stand in the corner as you are.”

He struggled to get there with his panties halfway down. His very red behind was very visible. So for the next couple of days I had no dishes to wash. My brother had to do my washing and ironing as well and tidying my room. The trouble was that he was useless at them. The kitchen floor needing to be done three times was typical. Then too there was the problem of the ironing. He had ruined my best sweater.

I quietly talked to Mom about the problem. This was after nine; my brother was in bed and had been for an hour. It turned out that Ms Watson wanted to try a new range of clothes in her boys’ section. Furthermore she had talked to Karen. In McGirl most of the work in the shop had become girl’s work. They agreed to spend all of Friday afternoon making some very particular furniture.

Karen showed me an antique. It was the High Chair she had sat in, like her mother, grand father and great grand father. It was all wood. Then she showed me what looked like an identical item of furniture, only bigger. She explained some differences: “With this High Chair the arms and the sides of the tray are hinged. However once the baby..” She giggled a lot at this word. “…is safely in his chair you can lock the tray in place. It will be hard for baba to get into trouble, but there are some other features which can be added to make absolutely sure.”

[cute little kokiri girl]

I met my brother as he was leaving the High School. I told him: “Mom and I have decided you need some new clothes, so we’re going to Ms Watson’s boy’s department.” He knew I could call AAG if I needed to. My brother did not want to see Assertive Athletic Girls again. He therefore let me hold his hand and walk him to the shop. I asked him a question: “Now we’re going to buy you some shorter dresses. I know that you do not want people to see the little girl panties you have on. How would it be if we got you some Unisex underwear?”

He said: “I suppose so.” As we arrived we met a British lady called Ann Black. “I’ve designed a whole new range of clothes, and you’re going to be the first to try them. Isn’t that nice?” I held various short dresses, basically baby frocks, against my brother. It was in front of other customers. The other customers were young males who were rather intimidated, mothers and school aged girls. The females were all smiling. The boys were looking at the ground.

In the next half an hour Ms Black had undressed my brother and showed him off in three very infantile dresses. All the dresses barely covered his ass. That meant that the childish panties, with Minnie mouse on them, were on full view. I made the suggestion (which Ms Black was expecting.) “Now Ollie, you often seem to make puddles on the floor or even do pee on you nice dresses. How would it be if you wore disposable diapers?”

He looked at me pleadingly: “PLEASE, no.” I said: “All right darling, you don’t have to wear disposable diapers. I think we should give you some mittens.” I slipped the mittens over his hands. I then did up buckles. I do not know whether he realized that he was now almost totally incapacitated as far as using his hands are concerned. This time I went into the changing room. Ms Black followed us.

“Here are your napkins.” He was confused: “What, you mean like sanitary napkins. I’m NOT actually a girl.” Ms Black explained gave instructions: “Lie down, child.” He obeyed and she lifted his legs. “I’m sorry for using an old fashioned word. Few people even in England or Scotland talk of napkins, we use what some dictionary calls nursery slang, nappies.”

I carefully folded the large white square towels. “Of course Americans call them diapers, or didies.” My brother was helpless but felt cheated: “But you promised you said…” I replied as I slid the first garment under him and started fastening the pins, “I said you won’t wear DISPOSABLE diapers and you don’t have to. I think these are much more babyish, and more suited to your emotional age.”

He was so intimidated by what had happened that he just lay there whilst I pinned two further very bulky diapers around his ass. I think he may have been even more shocked when I slipped the clear plastic panties over the diapers. I carefully adjusted them to minimize the risk of leaks. Ollie probably started guessing that he would probably do more than wear the babyish underwear.

We took him out of the fitting room so that people could see the child in the baby dress and diapers. Lots of the girls laughed. The boys, in their jumpers or sailor dresses, just kept silent. I think that Ollie was relieved to be put back in his slip and kilt, or rather tartan elasticized skirt, before we left. He probably hoped that the underwear he was wearing would also be that which he walked in wearing.

He was wrong. We kept him in the diapers and plastic panties. With all that bulk my brother certainly walked strangely as I walked him home. As I opened the door my brother saw it. There was a big banner “Ollie’s Baby Shower.” Lots of girls from his class and from mine were waiting as he entered our home. Mom said: “Let’s get baby into a nice pretty dress.”

She undressed him. He stood there in black sandals, white ankle socks, plastic panties and bulky diapers. My friend Leonie had a comment: “Your underwear certainly suits you.” There was a nasty shock for my brother next. Young Molly was also there. She had a question: “Could I help baby into the dress?” Mom said: “Of course.” The third grader spent a long time buttoning up the many small buttons on the back of his dress. As Molly was doing her job Mom remarked:

“Now there are LOTS of presents for the BABY shower . This time the BABY will say thank you for the gifts, and curtsey. Firstly we have redecorated your bedroom, or rather nursery.” I led him upstairs. His room now just had a bed, a long empty box with gift wrapping, and new wallpaper. The wallpaper consisted of cute animals- rabbits, elephants, ducks and things like that. ALL of the cute animals were diapered.

I said: “Jenny Green has redecorated your nursery. Would you like to thank her?” Ollie curtsied, which he found harder with the bulk of the diapers and said: “Thank you for redecorating my nursery.” Next Stacey, who had played such a big part in his first proper spanking, had a comment: “Your bed is a bit grown up. So I prepared some adaptations.”

She pulled off the mattress and replaced it with a couple of crib mattresses sewn together. Next she bolted on ends, bars on one side and a drop side bar on the other. Mom said: “Isn’t it a lovely crib – what does baby say?” Again the awkward curtsy: “Thank you for my crib.” Stacey explained: “Although they are painted pink the bars are solid metal, and this can be clipped on if baby tries getting out.”

She showed him a top which could fit over the crib. Marcie unwrapped the next gift. It was a suitably sized changing table. It had attachments there to, if need be strap him down and clip his mittened hands. I said: “I’m sure that Ollie will NEED the CHANGING table over the year or three, what does he have to say.” Again the curtsey: “Thank you very much for the changing table.”

Then I walked him down stairs. Karen unwrapped another huge gift, it was the High Chair. It was big enough for baby. She showed him some features: “These straps will help make sure baby cannot get into any problems, however with the tray fitted..” She clicked it into place “Baby will be so safe we could leave the infant all day without any risk of his hurting himself. However these little fittings will be there just in case.”

Karen showed him the places his hands and feet could be secured. There was another curtsey and thanks. Mom said: “I think baby must be thirsty.” I sat down on the sofa. Ollie put his head on my lap and took a baby bottle of formula. Molly was the next to feed the child. I think he had about ten bottles. I noticed that he was fidgeting a lot. Mom had, what Ollie thought, was good news.

“I think we should put the child back in the kilt and blouse.” I held the child’s hand but lots of other people followed. We knew where we were going. It was to a beauty shop which specialized in piercings. Four girls and two boys were going to have their ears pierced. Two girls arrived before it was Ollie’s turn. Each time I let them go ahead. Mom then told Ollie something that he did not expect: “Now, Ollie, babies do not have ear rings, so you ears won’t be pierced. We plan different piercings.”

By this time Ollie was really fidgeting a lot. He found out what were to be pierced. It was his lips. As the piercings happened I noticed pain, and a change. The fidgeting stopped. Two tiny fittings were put in place. I explained “Real babies love their pacifiers. Big babies might try to spit them out. We don’t want that. Open your mouth.” He obeyed. I stuffed the huge dummy into my brother’s mouth. I adjusted the tiny fittings on the lip rings. Given the mittens he was wearing there would be no way for him to remove the pacifier without help.

[cute little kokiri girl]

I held Ollie’s mittened hand very firmly. We took him to several shops. We selected the kinds of food we knew he would hate. I think we got about a hundred tins of baby food. It included every variety of soft mashed vegetables. People noticed the pacifier in his mouth. The dinner was interesting. We girls ordered pizzas, Olli’s favorite kind. He was taken out of his kilt and blouse and put into a baby dress. This short frock showed off his diapers and made it very clear that they were soggy and sagging.

Ten different girls got a chance of spoon feeding him. We each made sure that he had to swallow and taste mouthfuls of his least favorite vegetables. However we managed to get quite a lot on his face and bib. We took lots of pictures. The best picture had his hand free (although mittened). You could see his face but you could also see under the tray. His face was and bib were very messy, His diapers were visibly yellow and sagging under his short baby dress.

For desert the girls had apple pie and ice cream. Ollie had prunes. I took charge of changing baby’s first wet diapers. We had fed him more than a gallon of milk so even though he had 3 giant cloth diapers all were pretty wet. Ollie was in bed by 7pm. We did not wake him up until nearly eight the next morning, which was a Saturday. He was pretty secure in his crib. We put a top on it just in case.

However the mittens disabled his hands and the pacifier his teeth. In addition he was tightly dressed in footed ‘jamies with childish animal pictures on them. He would probably not have been abler to remove his night clothes (and get at his diapers) even if his hands had been free. Ollie had somehow managed NOT to make his diapers stinky. Mom told him: “It is very unhealthy not to have bowel motions. Just to help you we will give you more prunes and high fiber cereal. And we will not change you until your diapers are messy as well as wet.”

So we bottled fed him three pints of milk. Then we spoon fed him several bowls of high fiber cereal mixed with prunes Then we left him with a repeating DVD of Tele Tubbies. We had made a bassinet for him. This one had a couple of special features. It could be, and was, secured to the floor so he could not try to push it over. We also arranged it so that part of it could be lowered. The thing was about four foot high when we put him in.

Then we shifted a lever. My brother was in effect trapped in an eight foot nylon netted lobster pot. He had no escape. For twenty minutes we watched his increasingly desperate struggles not to mess himself. And finally noticed him surrender. I said: “Since you put off doing your duty in your dydees for 2 hours we have decided to leave you in them for two hours.”

We left him there with just the childish show on the television and his dirty diapers. I wore a gas mask when I changed baby. It was unpleasant for me. But I am sure that the humiliation was worse for him. Aunt Janet, Mom and me each gave Ollie a full pint baby bottle of formula for lunch. He was already wet by just after 1pm. We took off his baby dress and put him into the blouse, slip and tartan skirt. We left his wet diapers on. We gave him a heavy diaper bag to carry

Stacey, who was in Ollie’s class, had a baby sister called Molly. Molly had her first birthday that day. Stacey arrived at our home. She agreed to put Ollie’s high chair in the back of a small van and drive it to her home. I told Ollie he was going to a party. “It’s Molly Hawkins birthday party. Molly is only one.” It was two miles to where Molly lived. However we walked. I held my brother’s hand very firmly.

With his other hand he carried a bag with was fairly obviously a diaper bag. He also had a pacifier in his mouth. From the way he walked people might have guessed that he was wearing and had used diapers. The guests at Molly Hawkins birthday party consisted of 5 other girls aged from and 10-15 months old, 4 girls from Ollie’s class, myself and 3 other girls from my class and of course Ollie.

Most of the baby girls were in overalls. Others, in dresses, had tights to cover their diapers. Ollie on the other hand just wore his short dress, booties, mittens, clear plastic panties and that very visible diaper. A diaper change for Ollie was needed as soon as he arrived. He lay on a mat next to the birthday girl. As I changed him I teased him about being such a wet little girl. Stacey, who was changing Mollie, made very similar comments.

I think Ollie may have been relieved to be pinned into 1 cloth diaper rather than the 3 we had usually used. There was a reason for this. Each of the bigger girls took a turn at giving Ollie a baby bottle. The bottles contained baby formula and something more. Over the three hours of the party Ollie experienced 7 diaper changes. Each time he was lain next to an infant girl undergoing the same treatment. The little ones did not understand the teasing words and thought the tone was sweet. Ollie knew he was being humiliated.

The little girls and also the older kids had sweet nice food. Ollie got spoon fed his least favorite veggies strapped into his huge High Chair. Ollie thought that this was the worst day of his life. He was wrong. The next day, Sunday, another Mollie was invited to our home. It was Mollie Stevens, Leonie’s third grader sister. She was there because her youngest sister Lucy was there. It was Lucy’s 3rd birthday. We decided to host the party.

Ollie spent most of the party in a play pen. Girls from 30 months to about three and a half were having lots of fun. Mollie, who arranged Lucy’s party, had verified something. All the girls were potty trained. A lot of time was spent saying: “Isn’t Ann a clever girl using the potty...?” Or “Aren’t you a big girl Lucy using the big girl potty?” Ollie on the other hand was dressed in a diaper.

Again it was a single diaper. The little ones just out of diapers thought it was funny seeing the big person just lie down and let his sister, mom or aunt change him. That evening as I was spoon feeding Ollie he asked a question: “You can’t put me in baby clothes at school, can you?” Mom talked to him: “Well your diapers can easily go under your tartan skirt and petticoat. Ollie, you know they have a little day care place right in your High School.

They want teachers who have kids to come back to work as soon as possible and they do not want girls who have babies to young to miss out on school. “Well the girls in the shop class have done some work on the baby changing area. The new changing table is much bigger and sturdier. It will still do just fine for little ones, but it will also suit bigger babies.

“Oh and Stacey will be around to collect you. We are a bit worried you might try to miss school so she will hold your hand and walk you there. Oh and she will keep an eye on you. BABIES do not go to the bathroom and Stacey is happy to change your diapers when needed. “One more thing, it is nearly bed time” I bathed ‘baby’ and lay him on his crib. He submitted to being diapered. He was a bit surprised that at first I only pinned one side of the diapers. I said:

“One more thing, I hope you get lots of wet diapers but we do not want you having stinky ones at school.” With that I squeezed 3 suppositories into his bottom, finished pinning the diapers and put him into plastic panties and his cartooned ‘jamies. He was very stinky when he was woken up at 6am. Aunt Janet told him after she removed his dirty diapers and washed that delicate area: “We need to make VERY sure that there are no stinky dydees at school.”

She had taken the precaution of strapping Ollie onto the changing table. He was gagged by his pacifier. She had pinned one side of his diapers. Then he saw what I wheeled in. He tried to resist but Aunt Janet held his legs in the air. I slipped the tube into the relevant area and gave him his first morning enema. Aunt Janet pinned the other side of diapers and put him into plastic panties very quickly.

I think he had let the contents of the enema but the time he was secure in his High Chair. That was how he was when Stacey came to collect him. She changed him and put him into his tartan skirt. Stacey told me about my brother’s week. “The great thing is that we do not have to have every day the same. Sometimes I pin him into just one diaper. That means he needs lots of changes, which are very humiliating.

At other times we pin him into three, or even four. Now that means he can go a while without changing but of course it makes it WICKED obvious what kind of undies he has on.” During the next week several moms and big sisters of older boys came to visit us at home. We explained the routine as we teased, fed, changed and looked after ‘baby’. “He is allowed an hour for homework.”

Mom said, as she pointed to my brother. He was doing homework, which he had often not done before the petticoat era.  His mittens had been removed but he was firmly strapped into the High Chair wearing visibly sagging diapers. By the time I got into High School things had changed a bit at McGirl. In the past you could tell when a boy had been difficult or disobedient by noticing his ‘kilt’. By the time I got there all but two boys in my class wore a kilt or elasticized tartan skirt.

However you could often find out if a boy had been difficult because of the way a boy walked. If he waddled, he would be in double, treble or in one case quadruple diapers. At every recess there was line of boys waiting for his ‘baby sitter’ to change him. None of those under diaper discipline were allowed to change themselves. Oh and when any of the little babies needed a change they jumped the line and the teen boys just waited.

Quite often boys found that their changes were put off for so long that they made puddles as diapers became too wet. I got very close to Stacey. She is a nice person. As time passed Olly had got quite used to Stacey taking charge of him. When he graduated High School Olly graduated from diapers. However he still found he had a lot to do with oversized reusable baby wear. He got a job in a diaper service.

After we graduated from college Stacey and I moved in together. Olly moved into a box room in our new apartment. His role is our maid servant. Neither Stacey not I do any housework we do not fancy. Oh and on the day we moved in Mom and Aunt Janet gave us some house warming gifts. One was a paddle, which might warm other parts of Olly and the other was a supply of diapers, just in case he misbehaves.

As time went on petticoating in McGirl ceased to be just a thing for youths. It is now quite usual for a 14-year-old girl to have the authority to spank or petticoat her father and, if daddy was very naughty, return him to diapers.

The end

[cute little kokiri girl]

Half sisters a female regression story.

By derry.

“So what is my ‘babysitter’ going to do [/i/if I just want to go out, spank me?” 17 year old Kimberley giggled at the thought. They were having breakfast. She had dressed casually. Her hair was in an unfashionable bun giving a sense of height. She also had the heeled shoes with lifts and the padded push up bra. She did look like a nearly adult.

Sarah, the 13 year old prospective babysitter sat next to her half sister. She was in jeans a t-shirt and a sweater. Even in bare feet she was taller than Kimberley in heels, lifts and big hair. She was also stronger.

***************

Sarah remembered 4 years earlier. She was an 85 pound 9 year old four foot eight tall. Her half sister, Kimberley, was 101 pounds and pretty well five foot tall. Kimberley had not wanted to babysit. Kimberley kind of knew that Melissa, her step mom, had felt that by the age of 7 Sarah was too old to spank. Sarah, at 7, hated being spanked, with Mommy’s hand over her dress and panties.

After she shouted at her half sister Kimberley was able to pull Sarah over her knees, pull down her jeans and panties and really hurt her with a hairbrush. When she heard of it Melissa had said she would prefer that Sarah did not get bare bottom spankings. Kimberley pretty well knew that her step mom did not think Sarah should get any spankings however she gave severe spankings onto Sarah’s panties.

    ******

Melissa had agreed when she married, Joe, to treat Kimberley as her child. Everyone was sorry for Kimberley. Her mother had checked in on the flight of a plane that had collided with a military tanker plane. None of the relatives even had bodies to bury They were both very shocked when it turned out that Sarah was on her way. Melissa of course loved her biological daughter. However she bent over backward to be fair to Kimberley.

Joe had been an apparently successful financial operator. He had once more or less owned the biggest employer in the small town of Twyford. He sometimes seemed to own the town. Kimberley got 100% spoiled all the time. Joe had moved from mail order to credit and related activities. He no longer had much of a share in the mail order Business Kimberley was not liked much in her home town.

She thought everyone should treat as Royalty because her father was, or seemed to be, the richest person in town. Joe also spent a lot of time away That meant that most of the time it was Melissa who had to cope with Kimberley. Melissa was a kind nice person. She always gave in to Kimberley. Her step daughter had this magic formula “My REAL Mom would have let me..”

Joe had made a lot of money. His methods were sometimes on the edge of ethics and legality. Other times he went over the edge  He had moved to England because it was harder for the SEC to get at him, Again Joe was very busy and away from home a lot of the time away. Kimberley got even more out of control. Her father was away a lot of the time. Sarah took responsibility for things. She helped her Mom a lot home and worked hard at  school. She also grew a lot physically. She was quite an athlete. It was unusual for a school to have a girls’ cricket team.

Sarah, despite being ‘a yank’ captained the junior girls’ team and bowled quite fast. Another game Sarah liked was table tennis. This was to become quite useful. Kimberley did not like her half sister. She had found out that for a while the worry about their father’s legal problems had caused a lot of worry for Sarah. She had a bed wetting problem for a while when she was 11. Kimberley told all Sarah’s friends when they moved to England that until the previous year she ‘needed nappies’ which was a gross exaggeration.

  *******

Things got worse. Joe was arrested. They had big financial problems. It looked that they might have to lose their home. Kimberley’s behaviour was more out of control than ever. Sarah was the model school girl and daughter. Then came the huge shock.

   *****

Abigail, Kimberley’s Mommy, had tried hard to love both her husband and daughter.  Even at 3 there were the first signs of Kimberley being wanting to be a spoiled princess. Abigail had wanted to have her own career, not as lucrative as her husband’s but something that was hers. Joe discouraged Abigail. He was not delighted when he found out that Abigail had been left a legacy by her parents.

The teacher and the shop clerk had planned to be able to retire. They cared about the environment. They bought an island. It was a small place but it had the most lovely scenery and you could see amazing birds and also look at seals and also get a view of passing whales and dolphins. The modest cottage was wholly self sufficient. There was a powerful battery which was topped up both by solar cells and by wind turbines. There was a very good well for water.

The plan had been to start renting it out for vacations. A large amount of food had been bought. Joe had pretended to be impressed by his time with Abigail and Kimberley on the island. Kimberley, predictably, had been ‘bored’. Abigail had wanted to spend one more day on the island. So Kimberley and her father took an early morning flight. Abigail had decided to check in advance. That would make her feel less stressed when she took the evening flight.

Abigail sailed her boat to the island. She planned to sail back and get a train to the airport in the early evening. Abigail tripped over. She was unconscious for two days. She suffered total amnesia. There were no people but there was food and all she needed. Abigail survived for two years. There were tinned and dried food and also fresh fruit on the trees. Finally another sailor found her island, his dinghy was grounded on the beach by a storm.

It took another year for Abigail to understand what had happened. Abigail did contact the now remarried Joe. She decided not to disturb things Abigail returned to Twyford a few months after Joe, Melissa and the girls left for London. Abigail had found the man of her dreams. Peter was a kind man who cared, like Abigail did, about the World and shared her love of learning. Peter and Abigail shared everything both their eco tourism business and care for their daughter Emily.

Peter got a very aggressive cancer and died. Abigail had work she needed to do in England. Abigail read of her former husband’s arrest extradition. She worried about her daughter. Abigail had never seen Melissa. It was 14 years since years since she had seen Kimberley. Abigail did do some work talking to possible customers. One day she knocked on the door she knew belonged to her daughter and her step mother. Melissa was quite interested in a holiday which would be mainly looking at wildlife. Abigail was very proud of  the tall girl who was at the other end of the room clearly deeply engaged in school work.

Abigail invited Melissa for lunch the next day. Abigail was  delighted with Martha, the nanny looking after little Emily. Abigail gently told Melissa who she was. She suggested that maybe  they could move back to the US with her and Kimberley and Melissa could help with  Emily. It was a shock when she discovered that Sarah was not her daughter. Abigail invited Melissa, Sarah and Kimberley to move into the rented house she had, that avoided the risk of them actually ending up on the streets.

The first night Sarah babysat Emily and Melissa and Abigail took Kimberley out to a play. Kimberley complained how boring the play was and did not like the food at the restaurant. Sarah told them how much she had enjoyed looking after little Emily, even though she had a messy diaper and Sarah and to be careful with the pin on cloth diaper. Sarah had especially liked reading stories to the 20 month old.

It had taken a little while for Melissa to persuade Abigail that her 13 year old could be a babysitter rather than needing to be babysat. One way or another until they moved in together Kimberley had not seen much of her real mother. The second day it was Sarah’s chance of a treat. Kimberley was to baby sit. The movie they had wanted to watch was cancelled.

So Sarah came home early with her mother and sort of step mother. Kimberley had been incredibly careless. Firstly she had left the front door unlocked and it was in fact open. They could hear poor little Emily bawling. When they got upstairs they found that her bottles (with Abigail’s own milk) had not been fed. Neither had she been changed.

   ******

Melissa and Abigail both had to be out the next day, Saturday. Abigail had kind of thought that the 17 year old could supervise both the 13 year old and the baby. This was clearly not practical. Kimberley had arrived home after midnight having drunk a lot. It was rather too easy for under aged people to buy alcohol in British pubs and the legal age was 18. Kimberley was wearing a short slutty dress when she came in.

So it was that Kimberley’s “Real Mother” told her what would happen. She would spend her time in her room, except for chores. She was to do her home work. Sarah was to babysit her. That was the point Kimberley made her ‘satirical’ comment. She laughed as  she queried whether her half sister could spank her. Now Abigail would not have wanted to spank little helpless children. However she was losing her patience with he clearly totally spoiled and immature teen daughter.

“If you need to spank the child you have my permission.” Kimberley said. “Mom, you are crazy.” Sarah said “I think you should apologise to your Mom.” Kimberley said “Shut up, goody two shoes.” Sarah then asked: “Abigail, Ms Palmer, I think Kimberley’s insults deserve a spanking.” Abigail nodded. Sarah stood up and grabbed her half sister by the ear. By this time Kimberley for all her 17 years was only five foot and half an inch and weighed 105 pounds. Sarah, though only 13, was 150 pounds, and five foot five and she had far more muscle than fat.

They struggled. Kimberley efforts at kicking failed. She found herself over her younger half sister’s lap. Kimberley’s jeans were undone and came half way down. Kimberley’s panties were sexy and thin. They gave very little protection against Sarah’s strong heavy hand Whap, whap whap. It may have been humiliation as much as pain but Kimberley cried.

Abigail was embarrassed too. She felt her own daughter needed what was happening. Melissa kind of wished she had arranged trips over knees much sooner The 17 year old went to her room and did her home work. She said to herself that this was the worst day of her life. She thought it could not get worse. She was wrong.
 

[cute little kokiri girl]

Kimberley was sort of a good girl, or seemed to be. She did wash the breakfast dishes. She did not leave the house. She did spend time in her room doing homework. On the other hand she tended to answer her younger sister in single words. She slammed doors. She seemed to stamp when she walked. Sarah had babysat babies and kids up to nine. With older ones although she set boundaries she still tried to be friends.

She decided to do the same with her half sister. Since Kimberley had washed the dishes, if badly and had been to her room, if with bad grace Sarah wondered about a kind of reward, She thought she could find out Kimberley’s favourite ice cream. She knocked on the door. Kimberley did not answer. Sarah entered. She saw what was happening. Kimberley’s ‘home work’ seemed to consist of watching rather raunchy pop videos.

The computer in Kimberley’s bedroom was a desk top. Sarah pulled out the plug. “What the hell are you doing?” Asked the 17 year old. “I was popping in to ask if you wanted some ice cream because you were being a good girl and doing your homework, only you are not are you?” Kimberley lied, “Well I was only taking a little break. Please let me get back.”

Sarah had a friend who was a computer whiz. He had a programme for helping people who sometimes lost work. Sarah switched on the computer and put in the disk. It showed what the computer had been doing over the previous three hours. There was much more pop than homework. There was even some porn. “I think Kimmy needs a spanking.”

Sarah knew that Kimberley considered Kimmy to be a childish name and she hated it. It did not take much of a struggle to have Kimberley over Sarah’s knees. When Sarah went to get the disk to check the computer she also went into the kitchen to get a wooden spoon. This had made no sense to Kimberley For five minutes Sarah’s spanked her older half sister. She used the spoon to really hit her hard on her thin panties.

Kimberley cried and kicked and struggled but it was not use. It was actually baby Emily’s cries that ended the spanking. Sarah went to check on her. A cuddle and hug calmed down the girl who had been lonely in her play pen despite all those soft toys Sarah had promised to cook a meal for the family when her mother and step mother came home. If she had not Kimberley’s bottom would have got even more attention.

So Sarah pulled off her half sister’s jeans and led her downstairs by the ear. She pointed to a corner and ordered Kimberley to stay there “If you move you will get a REAL spanking bare bottom in front of your real mother.” Kimberley was bored and uncomfortable but she remained in the corner for two hours. Then her step mother arrived home. A few minutes later her ‘real mother’ came in.

Kimberley was silent during the meal whilst her biological mother congratulated Kimberley’s half sister on her babysitting skills. They also agreed to have a family meeting at breakfast the next day The final indignity, that day, for Kimberley was when she was sent to bed at 8pm. Her bedroom door was left open to make sure she did not get out of bed.

    *******

Just after she was went to bed Kimberley’s real mother went into her room. Abigail talked to Kimberley “Please do come down and join us for breakfast at half past eight. We are going to have a family meeting and make some decisions.” Although she was in bed Kimberley found it hard to sleep. She thought about the previous two days. Friday had been very much as normal.

She, sometimes, did go to the further education college she attended (a British institution half way between a High School and a Community college) she had spent Friday being provocative. She wore very visible striking make-up. Her panties were visible because she had her jeans low. They said “One Yank and they’re off” An old British joke about women being available to GI’s in World War Two. Kimberley had been aware that her American accent made her noticeable.

Perhaps because of her size Kimberley wanted to make it clear she was an adult. That was one of the reasons she went into bars, in her mind an adult activity. She had not had actual sex but wanted to appear a sexual person Lots of students at the college did not really like the small loud American. The one who was most offended was Roberta Murphy. She had been brought up in New York.

Her mother had followed her British husband back but he then disappeared. Mrs Murphy worked long hours as a waitress. She insisted her children speak correct English. People who had talked to Roberta on the telephone were always surprised when they saw that she was an African American. Roberta had a slight tendency to correct other people’s mistakes in public.

She did this especially loudly to Kimberley. She felt that the other small American lady was damaging her nation’s reputation. Kimberley used to laugh when Roberta said “Do you mean ‘are not’ when you say ain’t’” Kimberley used to giggle when talking to Roberta. When asked why are you laughing she would say “I am not laughing I am sniggering.”

Roberta said: “But that’s the same.” Kimberley said “No its not. Snigger combines snob with the word for people like you.” It was not unusual that Kimberley missed her 9am class. She attended classes on the fashion course from 11 to noon. She had lunch and then went off to the shopping centre. In the bar that Friday evening Kimberley wore a short dress.

It showed her shoulders. It gave the impression she had cleavage. Boys got lots of glimpse of her slutty panties and stocking tops. Then Kimberley thought of the nightmare which was Saturday. Being spanked twice was bad enough but that it was her younger sister made it so much worse. She finally went to sleep about about 2.30 am. Kimberley woke up at quarter past eight. Her mother, step mother and two half sisters were getting ready for breakfast. Kimberley could easily have got down stairs in good time. However she wanted to assert her adult status.

    *****

Kimberley had a long shower. She spent twenty five minutes after that adjusting her ‘forbidden desire’ make-up. She put her hair up as much as possible. She also got into her heal and lift shoes. As usual she had a bra combining elements of push up and padding. She looked like a girl of nearly 18. This was NOT her natural appearance. Kimberley went into the dining room at 9.15. Her mother got up.

Abigail was actually a little shorter than her daughter (when Kimberley was in heels and Abigail in sensible shoes. Abigail hugged her daughter “Kimberley, we really love you, but we do need to make some changes.” Kimberley sat at the table. She was offered cereal when it was clear from the pile in the sink that other people had enjoyed a cooked breakfast.

“What about pancakes.” Abigail explained: “Those were for people who arrived on time.” Kimberley got up and walked towards the cooker. “I’ll cook them myself.” Then her mother explained “The family met and made some decisions. We will be moving back to Twyford in the US next weekend.” This pleased Kimberley, her comment was “Cool.” “We have also decided to help you,” Continued her mother.

“You have been spoiled and acted like a little girl a VERY naughty and VERY little girl... “So from now on you will be treated as a little girl, and little girls cannot be trusted with the cooker. “And little girls do not look like that; we need to go to the bathroom.” Although she could have resisted her mother Abigail allowed her Mommy to tale her hand and go upstairs.

“Make up is for mature women and slutty make-up like this is not for anyone in this family.” Abigail proceeded to scrub her daughter’s face clean of makeup. “Now child, we need more suitable clothing you should undress.” All this was more embarrassing because Sarah had followed and was enjoying what was happening. Kimberley said “I won’t undress in front of her.” Abigail said: “Sarah, could you undress your LITTLE sister.”

     ********************************

Kimberley did not want another spanking. She allowed her younger sister to undress her. Once Kimberley’s blouse and super bra were taken off, Sarah giggled “Do you call those boobies? There are boys with more on top than you.” Kimberley blushed. The tight woollen vest which replaced the bra flattened such chest as she had. Her new shoes made her feel very small. Both Sarah and Abigail held her hands. Melissa agreed to baby sit little Emma

The first place Sarah and Abigail took Kimberley to was a hairdresser. Her hair was cut. Also the heavily treated up-do was replaced by pig tails. Then Kimberley had to call on four high end stores in the mall. She handed back stolen clothing. On each occasion she handed back the stolen clothing. She also had to say, loudly, “I am very sorry for stealing. I promise not to do it again. I have asked my sister to spank me for my naughtiness.”

Each time she also had to give a low curtsey. She lifted her green skirt. She was also wearing socks, all her garter belts, pantyhose and stockings had already been confiscated. Then she had to go to a pharmacy. The slutty make-up she used had been purchased. She had the receipts...The partly used stuff was to be put on a fire. However there was some that could be handed in for store credit.

Roberta Murphy, from her school, was doing part time work that Sunday. She was instructed to go to her. Roberta gave Kimberley the credit note.  Abigail then asked: “Do you have a very heavy hairbrush; it is mainly needed for lower down?” Sarah patted her half sister’s bottom, not too gently. “I think we can find something, anything else.” Sarah then said: “Have you got some really strong tasting soap, somebody needs a mouth cleansing?”

Kimberley was, of course, expecting a spanking when they got home that evening. She had a couple of shocks. Firstly two of Sarah’s friends were there.  Secondly so was Roberta Murphy from her college. Sarah said: “Since this spanking is going to save you from serious criminal consequences, I think you should be grateful. Will you curtsey and ask for the spanking, or should we perhaps make a police report.”

Kimberley reluctantly obeyed. She curtseyed and said: “Sarah, I was very naughty please would you spank me.” Both Roberta and Sarah’s little friends could not help laughing at this Sarah sat on the sofa and patted her lap. Kimberley lay over it. Slowly and carefully Sarah lifted Kimberley’s skirt out of the way. This was not a total surprise. Next her panties came down.

Kimberley tried to resist and complain. “Hey you can’t,” Sarah had firm control of the small delinquent. Then it started Thwack! It hurt more than Kimberley expected Again WHAP!, WHAP!! Within fifteen seconds Kimberley was yelping more than crying. The spanking went on for fifteen minutes. Abigail then had another announcement “I think Kimberley’s filthy mouth needs scrubbing, Ms Johnson, would you help my daughter have a cleaner mouth.”

Fearing a further spanking Kimberley opened her mouth. She expected a cake of soap to be put into her mouth. However before that happened the African American student literally scrubbed the inside of her mouth. After the mouth scrubbing was completed a bar of soap was put into her mouth and Kimberley was sent to the corner. She found walking with her panties round her ankles hard...

“Lift your skirt and hold it up.” Ordered her real mother Pizzas were delivered. The pizza delivery boy got to see Kimberley’s very red bottom. Kimberley did not get to eat either the Pizza or the ice cream. She did get to was the plates and cutlery She was sent to bed at 8pm Kimberley did not enjoy her last week at the FE College. Sarah walked her to and from college, firmly holding her hand.

The 13 year old had adopted the hairstyle and shoe style the 17 year old once had. She towered over her older sister. Whilst in the college Roberta Johnson took her by the hand from class to class and supervised her private study in the library. Kimberley was given some instructions about her future education. She did not so that home work.

[cute little kokiri girl]

On Friday Kimberley left college. Sarah left her British secondary school. They arrived at the Airport at 4.30. The plain left for the West Coast at .5.30. Sarah read some of the work which he had been told would be part of her new assessment. She then went to sleep. Kimberley watched the most stupid movies and drank lots of coffee. They arrived at Seattle at 7pm local time, which was 3am British time.

Sarah managed a short sleep on the next flight to the nearest airport to Twyford. Kimberley drank more coffee. They arrived at their new home after midnight. The bedroom Sarah and Kimberley were to share was decorated in pink but not that girlie in other ways. Sarah managed to sleep despite Kimberley staying up. So by the time they had breakfast Kimberley was still pretty tired and Sarah was totally alert.

Both girls had been given information about their new schooling. Sarah had read it. Kimberley had not. After breakfast Abigail announced “Time for school.” Kimberley was shocked, she was tired and annoyed “But it’s Saturday.” Abigail explained. “We gave you both the information. The schools here are normally Monday to Friday, just like in Britain. However they decide grades based on test results.

They have made arrangements. Your test is at 9.30.” The two girls looked similar as they walked on Main Street. Both wore blouses, skirts and knee socks. Each wore flat shoes. Sarah’s hair was straight and Kimberley’s in pig tails. It was clear that 13 year old Sarah was taller than her 17 year old half sister. Neither had a bra but you could see that Sarah would soon really need one and Kimberley would not.

Another factor making it seem that Kimberley was younger was that her mother was firmly holding her hand. Kimberley sat at a desk six foot from Sarah, Sarah had read what was expected. She had practiced both hand-writing and arithmetic without a calculator. Sarah actually enjoyed the work she was doing. Kimberley had a different experience. She had not done arithmetic without a calculator for seven years.  

It was about the same time since she had hand written more than fifty words at a time. Here she had both ordinary multiplication and division sums and long division and long multiplication. In addition she had to write two thousand word essays and answer some comprehension questions with actual sentences. Kimberley was also finding concentration hard.

She was aware within twenty minutes of the test starting that she needed the bathroom. It was made very clear that she would not be allowed to leave her desk until the test was over. By the time she got to the multiple choice part of the test Kimberley was really struggling to concentrate. She knew the right answers for 44 out of the 60 questions but checked the right box on only 37.

Kimberley was very relieved when the test was over. She dashed to the rest room. She was very relieved to be there in time. Kimberley felt equally uncomfortable being walked home. Again her real mother firmly held her hand. Whilst they ate lunch Melissa explained the education system in Twyford. The year Kimberley and Melissa had left for England there was big change.

Twyford is a small and very compact town. It is on a plateau around where the two rivers met. Its population is about 8000. When she left Twyford Kimberley had been at the junior high school and Sarah and the elementary school. Things were now different. The old High School became the Eastern School. The old elementary school became the West School. That was the school where they had taken the tests.

Civil Rights laws said you could not have single sex schools. Any parent could send their son to the West School. However uniform rules would be applied. Because the schools were so small, it was decided that children would be in grades according to test scores. After lunch there was a telephone call. The school advised Melissa and Abigail of the grade Sarah, still only 13 would go into 9th grade. She would need the High School uniform. Kimberley on the other hand would be in 5th grade with 9 and 10 year olds.

 *******

Just before they had left Twyford four years earlier, Kimberley had been incredibly rude to people. She got away with being rude to teachers. Part of this was people still feeling sorry for her because of the apparent loss of her real mother. Mostly it was her father’s status. Ms Watson, who had taught 7th grade when it included Kimberley had awful memories.

Two sisters had a nightmare with Kimberley. Ann and Jane Chang had lost their home when their father took up with a younger woman and divorced their mother. One result was that the then 13 and 6 year old wore visibly worn clothes. It was especially bad because their family had run the main clothing shop for three generations. “How’s the rag doll?”

Kimberley used to ask Ann, loudly and regularly. Jane had not understood why her father did not like her anymore and why she and hers sister had to live in one room. Sarah had tried hard to be nice to the Changs when she met them. Just after Kimberley and her family had moved to England Mrs Chang had found a good lawyer.  She and her daughters moved back into the nice apartment over their shop. Their dad moved away and became a realtor in Seattle

     *****

So it was Ann Chang, now 17 who helped Abigail and Melissa with school clothing for their daughters. Sarah got the high school uniform. It was grey. It included a skirt and blouse and grey pantyhose. Shoes were not prescribed. Melissa bought her hard working intelligent daughter some sets of athletic shoes for when she wanted to be doing athletic things but also some really fashionable heels.

Kimberley was in a different position. Ann carefully measured her. She then showed her the elementary school uniform, which was what 5th grader would get. It was a pink and white pinafore or jumper style dress. “You're going to be such a pretty little girl...” Remarked the young shop assistant shop. Kimberley lost control. She threw the childish dress onto the floor. At that point Abigail said:

“Sarah, can you deal with my daughter, I have a hairbrush in my purse.” Now the shop was quite crowded. As well as school things the Changs shop sold some quite fashionable things teens. “Can I borrow your changing room?” Sarah asked as she grabbed the 17 year old’s ear. Mrs Chang nodded. For ten minutes there was a mixture of sounds in the shop.

People could hear the very loud whap, whap of Sarah’s hairbrush on Kimberley hieney. They could also hear babyish bawling. There were also lots of giggles. Kimberley was in a lot of pain when she curtsied and apologised to Ann Chang. Ann talked to Kimberley’s mother. Abigail said: “Young Ms Chang had suggested you might like some new jammies. I think these would be very practical.”

The pajamas were pink with a picture of couple of white rabbits. They had feet on them.  Anna undid studs on the rear to show the drop seat. The whole shop except Kimberley laughed. She cried. Kimberley spent two hours that afternoon in her school uniform. She was in a corner.

The panties were around her ankles. She was holding up the childish dress. Her mother had chosen the front room, right on the street. The drapes were open. Lots of kids who remembered the rude arrogant girl who thought she owned the town happened to find reasons for walking down the street where she lived.

   *********

Just after breakfast on Monday Sarah noticed her mother helping little Emily. She had unpinned the 22 month old’s cloth diaper and sat her on the potty “Who’s a clever big girl?” Melissa said as Emily tinkled into the potty. Sarah talked to her half sister? “I think Kimmy should go potty too.” Kimberley was insulted. Though she was starting to be aware of a need to go to the bathroom she did not go.

Sarah took Kimmy’s hand and walked her to school. The West school combined all ages but there were different entrances. Sarah was not the only High School student taking a relative to the elementary school. Actually she did not look different to Ann Chang taking Jane to school. The difference was that Jane who was dressed in a jumper and in cute pig tails was 10 and Kimmy was of course 17.

Ms Watson, the Elementary principal, welcomed her newest student. “I have some good news for you. You know your class teacher, Ms Green.” Miriam Green remembered Kimberley very well. They had been in 7th grade together. Miriam had been behind other kids because she had to fight a life threatening illness and was in hospital a lot. Now 19 she had not only graduated High School but also started working on her teaching qualification.

She was for the last few weeks of the summer class acting as home room teacher in one of the elementary classes. Kimberley thought Miriam had been her friend. Actually Miriam had barely tolerated her because her parents encouraged her to be nice to everyone. Ms Green was dressed in a rather severe blue pant suit. She wanted to convey authority and knew that this was harder at only 19.

Ms Green talked to the class about the beauty of poetry. She was half an hour into her talk when the newest little girl got up. Actually Kimmy in her jumper and pig tails looked a lot like the other girls and was by no means the tallest in the 5th grade class, Miriam knew she needed to establish her authority: “What are you doing child?” Kimmy still thought the acting teacher would be her friend and cut her some slack.

“Miriam, I need the bathroom.” Miriam found ways to establish her authority “Calling teachers by their given names is rude child. And Kimmy should have gone potty before school started. I will take you to the bathroom at recess. We will need to deal with your rude mouth.” Kimmy found it very hard to concentrate on the lessons for the next 60 minutes. At the end of it Ms Green took her ear. Half the class somehow needed the bathroom. Kimmy had to let Ms Green push a very wet piece of soap into her mouth.

“That better stay there until the end of recess, unless you want it there during Ms Blake’s math class too.” At last Kimmy was able to use the bathroom for its more usual purpose. She was very relieved. However Ms Green made sure that Kimmy was in the yard with the other kids after she had tinkled. They all saw the green cake of soap in the rude child’s mouth.

**************

Sarah walked Kimmy home. Her friend Ann Chang walked with her and 10 year old Jane. Of course Sarah held her half sister’s hand very firmly. Jane was felt to be safer and did not need her hand held. Jane told Sarah about how naughty Kimmy had been. “I think rudeness like that needs a spanking as well as a mouth soaping.” Ann told her 13 year old smart friend that she would not be needed to work that day.

Sarah invited Jane and Ann for tea and cookies. “I think Kimmy should wait in a corner thinking about the spanking she will get at 6pm.” Sarah opened the drapes. She ordered her half sister to lift her jumper dress. She then pulled the 17 year old’s panties down to her ankles. As she was finishing her cup of tea Sarah told Ann,  I think that this would be a good room to do the spanking. Oh and I think we should leave the drapes open so I can use natural light.

Just before Six Melissa and Abigail arrived. Abigail had also brought little Emily who had been in day care. “Time for Kimmy’s spanking.” Said Sarah, “Not here!” Yelled Kimmy. She struggled. Sarah enjoyed it all the more when she had to drag the 17 year old over her lap to the sofa. Whap whap whap. Very quickly Kimmy felt a lot of pain. She struggled and kicked but the spanks kept coming.

She caught a glimpse of about 6 girls she had known 4 years earlier when they had been in the same class. Kimmy kept struggling and was soon also bawling. Jane opened the window. That meant the girls on the street could hear the whaps and the babyish crying whilst Kimmy could hear he giggling, After fifteen minutes, which felt like that many hours to the naughty one Kimmy was sent to the corner.

This was followed by another hour of corner time for Kimmy, showing of her now very red ass. The next morning just after breakfast, as the older girls were about to go to school, Abigail was able to see that little Emily was about to pee. She lifted her toddler out of the high chair and sat her on the potty chair. “Arn’t you a clever girl.” As happened the previous day Sarah talked to her older half sister “I think Kimmy ought to go potty too.”

Remembering the previous day Kimberley went to the bathroom. “Isn’t Kimmy a clever big girl.” Sarah was smiling broadly as she made the remark. For the next three days Kimmy did her best NOT to draw attention to herself in the 5th class. On Friday there was reading practice. Kimberley had always found reading out loud very hard. She made four mistakes when reading out a chapter of Little Women.

She was very relieved when Ms Green asked Amy, a bright 8 year old who had been promoted to  fifth grade to read. Other girls read out of different books. After Jane Chang, who was the last to have a turn Ms Green went back to Kimberley “Kimmie, you really do need to read out loud. Try this book.” Kimberley read, with a very red face. “Sue and Fred live with Mommy and Daddy in a small house. They have a cat named Tom and a dog named Fido.” Everyone in class knew that the 17 year old was reading from a 1st grade reader.

   ********

Earlier in the week Ms Green, whose grandfather had taught maths and who had helped her explained all kinds of less difficult ways of doing arithmetic with bigger numbers. Kimmie had not been listening. Kimmie half remembered the traditional methods for long division and long multiplication, though she tended to make mistakes. They had half an hour to do 10 hard looking sums.

The first one was 13279 divided by 49. Two desks away from Kimmie Emma puzzled too. Then she remembered some of the ‘tricks’ Ms Green had taught them. It took Jane four minutes to do the work. Jane started by dividing by 7. She got the correct answer. Kimmie tried doing one of the tricks, but she had confused multiplication with division sums. Ms Green had told the girls that all the division sums would work out to whole numbers.

She started dividing by 50, it got her nowhere. It took Kimmie six minutes to get a wrong answer. Kimmie also struggled with the other questions. After the recess the 19 year old substitute teacher had an announcement. “The girl who did best gets a prize. “ She handed a 10 year old small candy bar. “After school Kimmie will get a different prize, in my office.”

The rest of the class giggled. Kimberley was surprised she had got a prize. She knew she had only answered 7 questions and was not sure. “Kimmie, even though you are by far the oldest in the class you came last. Your prize is help to make sure you do better next time.” Ms Green sat down and patted her lap. Kimmie feared worse so she took up the position. Ms Green explained more “Last week I lifted Dawn’s dress and used my hand on her panties.

This week she moved from 23rd to 17th in the class” Kimmie felt her jumper coming up. “However you did so much older. So...” Kimmie felt her panties coming down. She saw he hairbrush. Although not as severe as the last spanking Sarah had administered Kimmie felt a lot of pain during the next five minutes. She cried and she kicked. “Next week we will do the test in the morning.

If you are last again you will get the paddle and will spend afternoon recess in a corner holding up your jumper.” Kimmie heard giggles. Several of her class mates had heard. Kimmie was aware of quite a lot of pain as she was walked home. Again they walked home with the Changs. Young Jane had a suggestion “Amy is a nice girl. She came third in the test. She helped me a bit with this.

I think it would be REALLY good for Kimmie if Amy helped her with the math at the weekend.” On Saturday morning Sarah collected a package from England. She knew that her half sister would soon feel even younger and more childish if not infantile. On Sunday afternoon. Kimmie spent three hours with little Amy. Ms Amy Jackson was very hard working and intelligent, that was why she was in the 5th grade class, but she was actually smaller than the average eight year old.

Kimmie was not sure whether she hated it more when her visibly little tutor said: “Well done, clever girl.” Or whether it was worse when the small 8 year old said to the 17 year old 5th grader: “Don’t be stupid.” At five pm Sarah was listening “At last I’m finished with the brat.” Although Kimmie whispered her insult Sarah heard. Sarah made her loud announcement: “Kimmie said a nasty word about Amy, She is now going to curtsey and ask Amy to take her to the bathroom for a thorough mouth soaping, after an hour in the corner.”

Sarah gave careful instructions to the eight year old fifth grader. At just after six Amy reached up and took Kimmie’s ear. She was walked up the stairs. Sarah gave Amy a plastic apron. Kimmie was ordered to kneel in front of the younger girl. She hand to watch whilst Amy totally soaped the wash cloth. Amy spent fifteen minutes scrubbing the inside of the rude, ungrateful adolescent’s mouth.

The eight year old’s small hand was a real advantage in this process. Amy was invited to supper. Kimmie spent supper in the corner of the dining room with a cake of soap in her mouth. Kimmie was sent to bed at 7.30. She heard this was an hour before her 8 year old class mate’s bedtime. Now Kimmie was a caffeine addict. The rest of the household had tea when they wanted hot drinks, except that Emily had warm milk.

The package that Sarah received was sent by Roberta Murphy. She had two great grandmother’s who had been wiccans who knew about herbs. The mixture in package did taste a bit like coffee. It was useful in some cases for people with high blood pressure. It tended to increase kidney and bladder activity. The mixture also tasted a little sweet.

Sarah mixed it. She offered her half sister a couple of cups of coffee. As it happened little Emily had an accident that morning. Abigail was not able to put her toddler onto the potty chair. That Monday morning Sarah did NOT remind Kimmie about ‘potty’.

[cute little kokiri girl]

Kimberley had started to be aware of the need for the bathroom. She did not have time to get there before arriving at her class. However, she had not wanted to be noticed so she went to the back row of the class Half an hour into a two hour class her bladder was demanding attention. She put up her hand. For ten minutes Ms Green talked to the class about Abraham Lincoln.

She ignored the girl at the back of the class for as long as she could. Miriam Green at last asked her “Kimmie, you have a question?” “Ms Green, may I have permission to use the bathroom?” Ms Green remembered how cruel Kimberley had been when Sarah had a bed wetting problem. The poor nine year old had heard teasing because everyone in her school had been told, by her half sister, that she often needed diapers.

“Kimmie, do you know the school rule about the bathroom.” “I am not sure Ms Green?” Miriam sighed. She then said “You should have the rule book in your bag, read rule seven.” Kimberley read She was slow and hesitant. The rule said “Hall passes shall not be issued. Students outside the pre kindergarten and kindergarten are expected to use rest rooms before school, at recess or at lunch.”

Miriam then said: “Did you think the rules did not apply to you? Or were you too stupid or immature to go potty at the proper time, Kimmie? Permission is denied” By recess time Kimberley was getting REALLY uncomfortable. Ms Green made an announcement “Today we will be orderly. The class will leave single file starting with the front row.” Kimmie really struggled. As she finally left the class she was aware of a slight leak.

Then she saw the line for the rest room. Then Kimmie no longer needed the bathroom. Other girls saw the stream and the puddle. Kimmie’s face went very red Jane Chang saw, she inwardly smiled and went to the School nurse. The nurse was busy with a girl who had cut herself during games. She also thought that changing children who wet themselves was not really her job. The nurse said

“She can go to Molly Hughes.” Molly Hughes had not graduated from the high school. She had been in the same grade as Kimberley. She remembered how much Kimberley had teased her. She had complained. Kimberley had ruined her 12th birthday. Kimberley had arranged party on the same day and invited all of Molly’s friends, but not Molly Molly was an assistant in the Kindergarten and Pre kindergarten section. She helped kids who needed extra help. One of the things she did was help when little girls had ‘accidents’. Molly had been very sympathetic when a couple of girls in 4th grade had been ill and got the same problem.

“Did Kimmie wet her panties like a baba; does she want to be changed like a baba?” Kimberley said nothing. She let the 18 year old remove her jumper. She lay on the plastic covered oversized changing .  tab:e “Somebody really did lots of wee wee.” Molly washed Kimmie’s special area with a baby wipe. “If this happens again you will have to see the nurse, babies who wet themselves do not have big girl hair there, not that you have much?”

Kimmie blushed. Molly produced a pink and white pair of thick cotton towelling panties. “You are very lucky; some of our kids are overweight, so there are toddler trainers in your size.” Kimberley saw the insulting underwear. She shook her head. “If you prefer I am sure there are diapers in your size.” Molly smiled and she continued: “Kimmie you have two choices, you can say ‘pwetty please, would Ms Molly put lil' Kimmie in toddler twaining panties’ “Or I will look in our diaper drawer.”

Molly held up her cell phone to record as the 17 year old who had not so long ago acted as if she owned the town said “Pretty please will Ms Molly put Kimberley in trainers?” For the rest of the day Kimmie got comments about her ‘accident’. After school Jane was very pleased to tell her sister and Kimberley’s half sister what had happened. Sarah had done acting lessons. She managed to seem surprised.

“Obviously I need to remind Kimmie about going potty more often.” When they got home Sarah had a question for Kimmie: “Is forgetting to go potty at the right time and making an icky puddle in the corridor a good thing or a naughty thing?” Kimmie said “It’s not my fault, I couldn’t help it.” Sarah said: “Not answering your baby sitter is rude, so unless you want your punishment to include a soapy mouth you should answer my question.”

The 17 year old was barely audible “P peeing on floor is not good.” Her 13 year old sister went on. “What should Kimmie ask for when she has been naughty? I’ll give you a clue you can bring my hairbrush when you curtsey and ask.” Kimberley was very red faced. She went upstairs. She offered her half sister the heavy hairbrush. She then curtsied and asked to be spanked.

The spanking only lasted for five minutes. However it was painful and humiliating. Kimmie cried and kicked. Her corner time lasted longer and not only did she have to hold up her jumper dress but also she knew that her childish training panties would be on display for her mother. Just after Abigail arrived home with little Emily the little one needed changing. Sarah took the opportunity to ask “Does Kimmie need to go potty?”

Kimberley got that question six more times before she went to bed. Half way through breakfast, with Emily on the potty chair, Sarah again asked the 17 year old her insulting question “Does Kimmie need to go potty too?” As Kimmie was finishing her breakfast Sarah, kindly, offered her another cup of coffee. It tasted sweeter than usual. (Sarah had doubled the additive.)

The first session of that day was gymnastics. As soon as the lesson started Kimmie noticed a need for the bathroom. She also struggled because she was not as flexible as her younger classmates. Forty minutes into the class she was in agony. The class had been on for about an hour when it happened. Kimberley was using all her strength to hold herself up on two parallel bars. Certain other muscles had less strength.

The whole class saw her pink leotard suddenly turn yellow. Ms Patterson was very angry. She asked Amy, the youngest in the class, to walk the 17 year old to Molly Hughes room. Again the 17 year old had to politely ask for toddler training panties to avoid being put it a diaper. Molly then walked Kimmie to the school nurse. Kimmie had to lie down whilst the nurse thoroughly shaved her little bush.

The gym class had not quite ended. Ms Patterson finished it with a fifteen minute spanking for Kimmie 16 little girls watched as the tall athletic teacher had the 17 year over her knee, with training panties around her knees and jumper right up. WHAP, WHAP .WHAP! Kimmie struggled a bit but it was hopeless. She kicked and bawled like a baby. It seemed to go on all day.

All Kimmie was aware of was the pain. It went on and on. She was barely aware that the former professional athlete who was teaching her physical education was only using her hand. It hurt as much as Sarah with the hairbrush. At lunch time Jane texted her big sister. Ann Chang told Sarah what had happened. Abigail agreed to meet them after school.

Kimmie was surprised when her mother arrived. Abigail held one of her hands and Sarah the other. They walked to the Chang’s shop. Kimmie blushed as her mother asked: “Do you have any training panties which would fit this young lady?” Mrs Chang shook her head: “No, I ordered some especially for the school, but I can get some for tomorrow.”

Kimmie was relieved not to have any further spankings. She was however reminded a dozen times between getting home and bed time about ‘going potty’. Sarah let Kimmie read a little, after she was sent to bed at her usual 7.30. Sarah even made some sweet coffee. Kimmie woke up in a wet bet bed. Kimmie had lots of anxiety but no actual accidents at school. That afternoon Sarah collected her.

Kimmie was very embarrassed to be taken into the fitting room for training panties to be fitted. Mrs Chang had another suggestion “I think she may have to take some wet things back. We are used to that problem, with some many Mommies, like yours using cloth diapers, there is a special bag with a waterproof compartment, and it has enough room for school books.”

Sarah also talked loudly about Kimmie’s wet bed and a plastic sheet was purchased. The training panties were thick terry cotton. There was a special thicker section in the appropriate area. They did not have plastic waterproof covering. Sarah was again very happy to offer her less mature sister coffees. That evening, Kimmie found herself being reminded to go potty very often and usually needing to.

Kimmie was very embarrassed that all the girls in her class and most of the kids in the school knew she was carrying a diaper bag for her own needs Again she woke up in a wet bed. Sarah again gave her a humiliating reminder as Abigail was putting the not yet 2 year old on the potty chair. It was the day of the math test. Half way through Kimmie really needed the bathroom. She tried fighting it but after 15 minutes just soaked her training panties

Kimmie came 17th out of 23 in the maths class. That was humiliating for the 17 year old amongst all those under 11s. At the end of the test she was again walked Molly for a change: As the pre kindergarten assistant was washing round Kimmie’s now hairless special area Molly remarked: “Maybe you would be more comfortable in the pre kindergarten girls, they are more used to soggy accidents.”

Texting is very efficient as a means of communication. Lots of girls from Kimmie’s old class from 4 years earlier happened to be at the make-up counter when Kimmie had to go to a different counter and buy some dri nites. Kimmie was grateful that there was just one more week of classes. Kimmie had 5 soggy accidents between Monday and Thursday. She also needed three spankings by Miriam Green,

There was no math test that Friday. However there was an extra physical education session. The worst thing happened. Kimmie hoped the training panties under her leotard would hide the slight leak. Then she was told to do more vigorous exercises, and then there was no more hiding the wetness. On the last afternoon there was a whole school assembly The Principal agreed that the assembly would be extended.

There was one more 15 minute section. It was Kimmie’ spanking The sound of the 17 year old’s bawling filled the school hall as the small paddle again and again landed on her very soon totally scarlet rear. For the rest of the assembly lots of girls looked to the left of where the announcements were made Kimmie had been told her hold her jumper dress up, with trainers around her ankles during her most public yet corner time.

Abigail made an announcement at breakfast the next morning, Saturday: “I think Emily is ready for proper potty training, no more diapers for Emily?” Again Sarah gave Kimmie a couple of extra cups of special coffee. Kimmie had hoped that the training panties would not be put on her when away from school, with its strict limits on potty break.

Kimmie’s initial refusal to wear the trainers got her five minute visit over Sarah’s knees. Although the spanking was briefer than and not as severe as the one given by Ms Patterson the previous afternoon, it did hurt a lot. About an hour before they were to leave Emily asked for the potty. Abigail unpinned her diaper and sat the nearly two year old on the potty chair. Sarah, not yet 14 talked to her nearly 17 year old half sister “I think Kimmie should go potty too.”

The late teen girl stamped her feet as she went up to the bathroom. Sarah offered Kimmie another cup of coffee. Kimmie had not been happy when her mother took her out with the toddler. They did not go shopping first. It was a nice summer day. There were some swings at a little park. Emma got put into one especially safe one. Kimmie shook her head vigorously when Sarah asked “Does little Kimmie want to play on the swing.”

After 40 minutes Emily was bored with the swings.  Abigail took her daughter’s hand. Sarah took Kimmie’s hand. They first walked by the river. There was a little waterfall. Sarah and Abigail talked about potty training techniques. Kimmie had started to need the bathroom before they had left home. Now it was getting uncomfortable. Finally they got to the Chang’s shop. They talked about Emily “Emily sort of knows when she needs the potty but it is hard to unpin her diapers in time sometimes.”

Mrs Chang offered a packet of disposable pull ups. Abigail explained: “I do feel that disposables are bad for the environment.” Mrs Chang showed a set of training panties very similar to the ones under Kimmie’s dress. Sarah had a question. “Will they be enough protection?” Abigail remarked “The thing is Emily does not leak, when she tinkles it is a lot, I fear there would be a lot of puddles.”

Mrs Chang went to the back of the shop. She came back with a pair of training panties, also in pink and white terry cotton but with a clear plastic on the outside. “I think these panties will avoid any puddles if Emily has accidents.” Texting is very efficient as a means of communication. Lots of girls from Kimmie’s old class from 4 years earlier happened to be at the make-up counter when Kimmie had to go to a different counter and buy some dri nites.

Kimmie was grateful that there was just one more week of classes. Kimmie had 5 soggy accidents between Monday and Thursday. She also needed three spankings by Miriam Green, There was no math test that Friday. However there was an extra physical education session. The worst thing happened. Kimmie hoped the training panties under her leotard would hide the slight leak.

Then she was told to do more vigorous exercises, and then there was no more hiding the wetness. On the last afternoon there was a whole school assembly The Principal agreed that the assembly would be extended. There was one more 15 minute section. It was Kimmie’ spanking The sound of the 17 year old’s bawling filled the school hall as the small paddle again and again landed on her very soon totally scarlet rear.

For the rest of the assembly lots of girls looked to the left of where the announcements were made Kimmie had been told her hold her jumper dress up, with trainers around her ankles during her most public yet corner time. Abigail made an announcement at breakfast the next morning, Saturday: “I think Emily is ready for proper potty training, no more diapers for Emily?”

Again Sarah gave Kimmie a couple of extra cups of special coffee. Kimmie had hoped that the training panties would not be put on her when away from school, with its strict limits on potty break. Kimmie’s initial refusal to wear the trainers got her five minute visit over Sarah’s knees. Although the spanking was briefer than and not as severe as the one given by Ms Patterson the previous afternoon, it did hurt a lot.

About an hour before they were to leave Emily asked for the potty. Abigail unpinned her diaper and sat the nearly two year old on the potty chair. Sarah, not yet 14 talked to her nearly 17 year old half sister “I think Kimmie should go potty too.” The late teen girl stamped her feet as she went up to the bathroom. Sarah offered Kimmie another cup of coffee.

Kimmie had not been happy when her mother took her out with the toddler. They did not go shopping first. It was a nice summer day. There were some swings at a little park. Emma got put into one especially safe one. Kimmie shook her head vigorously when Sarah asked “Does little Kimmie want to play on the swing.” After 40 minutes Emily was bored with the swings.

Abigail took her daughter’s hand. Sarah took Kimmie’s hand. They first walked by the river. There was a little waterfall. Sarah and Abigail talked about potty training techniques. Kimmie had started to need the bathroom before they had left home. Now it was getting uncomfortable. Finally they got to the Chang’s shop. They talked about Emily “Emily sort of knows when she needs the potty but it is hard to unpin her diapers in time sometimes.”

Mrs Chang offered a packet of disposable pull ups. Abigail explained: “I do feel that disposables are bad for the environment.” Mrs Chang showed a set of training panties very similar to the ones under Kimmie’s dress. Sarah had a question. “Will they be enough protection?” Abigail remarked “The thing is Emily does not leak, when she tinkles it is a lot, I fear there would be a lot of puddles.”

Mrs Chang went to the back of the shop. She came back with a pair of training panties, also in pink and white terry cotton but with a clear plastic on the outside. “I think these panties will avoid any puddles if Emily has accidents.”

 

[cute little kokiri girl]

At this point the weakness of training panties without plastic backing became clear. Kimmie had been aware of a slight leak before they got to the shop. Suddenly she totally lost control. Kimmie blushed. Sarah rubbed in her humiliation “Did lil’ Kimmie have an accident?” Kimmie then cried. Mrs Chang went to the back of the shop again. She came down with another pair of plastic backed training panties. These were larger. She said

“I think Kimmie is in luck, lots of toddlers are being trained later and are a bit overweight, I think these will fit her.” “And we have some bigger changing pads; you could take Kimmie into our yard.” Abigail made the purchases. Sarah led Kimmie by the ear into the yard. Sarah laid the pad onto a bench. Ann and Jane watched as Sarah used baby wipes on Kimmie’s hairless special area. Sarah then said: “I think I need to chat to Abigail about Kimmie. I think she needs a spanking. Would Ann like to hold up the child’s legs? Then Jane can practice spanking in the diaper position, which would be so appropriate.”

Jane was not an especially tall child and was only 13. Kimmie probably felt more humiliation than pain as the hairbrush repeatedly landed on her butt. She was so helpless, she did cry quite a bit. After her spanking Kimmie again saw Sarah. She had the plastic backed training panties. They did look rather as if she were in a diaper. As she arrived back in the shop from the back yard Abigail had an announcement.

“As you know I am taking time off work to properly potty train Emily, Sarah has agreed to help trying to potty train little Kimmie. “Emma has a new dress, now she is not in actual diapers.” Kimmie saw her nearly two year old sister. The green and white striped dress went down to the toddler’s knees. When she had arrived in the shop Emily’s frock was a proper baby one, showing off the diaper. This one hid her underwear.

Sarah smiled as she said “And we have a matching dress for Kimmie.” The dress was indeed styled very similarly to the toddlers. There was one difference. It was a bit shorter. There was a real risk that people would get glimpses of the 17 year old’s babyish training panties.

    ********

Kimmie was very careful as she was walked home. She was aware of Sarah holding her hand very firmly. Emily was sat in an ordinary chair at the table. She was given a sippy cup with juice. Sarah asked Kimmie “Do you want a coffee?” Kimmie nodded: Sarah then offered Kimmie a sippy cup with slightly cooler than usual coffee with lots of milk.

“Hey I want a proper cup,” It was her real mother who talked to the 17 year old “Kimberley, you do need to have some fluid, you can either have coffee in a sippy cup or cranbery juice in a baby bottle.” The 17 year old loved sweet coffee, she accepted it in the sippy cup. 45 minutes later Kimmie went upstairs to the bathroom. She could not get in. “Hey, I can’t open the door.” Sarah walked up the stairs and smiled: “Child, little ones need to learn to ask when they need to go potty.”

Sarah paused: “Does Kimmie want to go potty?” Kimberley yelled: “Yes, I need the f***ing bathroom.” Sarah talked to her technically older sister “Child, you are going to need to be potty trained. Unlike Emily you will need to hold on because at school you cannot just go when you want to. By the way we need to take you to the kitchen for a mouth soaping and then I will ask you again.”

The strong tall thirteen your old took her 17 year old just realized full story did not go in before For half a minute, despite her previous desperation the 17 year old was too embarrassed to let go. Then she started to tinkle. It seemed very loud to her. (The enamel potty which Sarah had put in her half sister’s chair was more acoustic than the plastic one in Emily’s potty chair.

After about a minute (which felt much longer to Kimmie) the tinkling sound stopped. Half a minute later Sarah talked to her “Has Kimmie finished going potty?” 17 year old Kimberley, who had a few months ago had felt herself to be very important and better than anyone else, reluctantly nodded. Sarah wiped her. Then she lifted her half sister from the potty chair and hugged her.

“Who is a clever big girl?” Kimmie’s face got even redder. Sarah then continued with what sounded like good news: “I think you are helping to get Emily potty trained. When Emily is ready for big girl panties, little Kimmie will not have to wear training panties or use the baby potty chair either.” Sarah’s tone then changed: “But now we need to deal with some disobedience, Mom could you go fetch the hairbrush.”

Mellissa went upstairs and came down with the hairbrush. By this time Kimmie was lying over her half sister’s knees.  Sarah had not bothered to pull up the 17 year old’s training panties Just before anything happened Kimmie was aware of lots of people looking at her. Abigail talked to her youngest “Emily is a good girl. Kimmie is a bad girl. When very big girls are bad they get spanked.”

Whap, whap, whap. Sarah had been doing exercises. In the two minute spanking she managed to make Kimmie both bawl and cry like a baby. Kimmie went to the corner. The door bell went. Jane and Ann Chang arrived. They brought Jane’s class mate and friend Amy Jackson. All three saw Kimmie in the corner. She was holding up her short dress. Her training panties were around her ankles. Her red bottom was visible. They all knew what had happened.

Yet Kimmie felt a little better when little Emily said. “Kimmie bad, Kimmie spanked.” Kimmie was allowed to eat lunch with the rest. However she was given plastic cutlery like Emily. Like the toddler the17 year old had a bib on and had her food cut up for her. Half way through lunch Kimmie said: “May Kimmy go potty?” Sarah firmly said “Kimmie will have to wait.”

Nearly an hour later Kimmie was about to ask again to go potty. She was getting desperate. Again Emily asked for relief. Sarah asked “Does Kimmie need to go potty too?” The 17 year old found herself sounding much younger, she did not want to annoy Sarah. “Kimmie want potty.” The others watched as the 23 month old and the 17 year old each had their dresses lifted, their panties pulled down as they were sat on potty chairs.

Kimmie face went as red as her bottom had been earlier as she tinkled. Again Abigail hugged and congratulated Emily. Kimmie had to submit to the same treatment from 13 year old Sarah. For about four days Kimmie just accepted her situation. It was humiliating. Being sat next to a toddler and treated just the same was shaming. Then things started to change.

Kimmie had been surprised, but pleased, when she had been put on the potty chair as soon as she asked to just after nine that Tuesday morning. Sarah knew the slower effect of the mixture she gave to Kimmie. She gave Kimmie a sippy cup of special coffee. Just after she finished Sarah asked “Does Emily want potty?” The toddler nodded. Abigail helped her daughter onto the potty chair and Sarah asked: “Does Kimmie need the potty?”

The 17 year old shook her head. Sarah then remarked “Let’s just check.” So whilst Sarah tinkled Kimmie had to sit on her potty chair for five minutes, whilst nothing happened. Then Abigail, Emily Sarah and Kimmie all went to the park. Just after they arrived Kimmie said “Can I go potty?” Sarah firmly said “You will have to wait. Can you try to be a big girl?”

They stayed in the park for a long time. Kimmie became more aware of her need to pee. Again she asked “May Kimmie have the potty?” Sarah shook her head. Then they walked to the river, by the waterfall. Abigail met another Mom. Abigail explained how much better cloth diapers were for the environment, and how they had helped with Emily’s potty training. “Me go on potty, Em-lee a big girl”

Said the toddler. Kimmie had felt a slight leak fifteen minutes earlier. Suddenly she was really tinkling. Then Emily said: “Can me go potty? They went to a cafe. Both little girls were taken to the lady’s room. Sarah had pretended to be shocked as she pulled up Kimmie’s dress in one stall. Luckily for Kimmie nobody else was in the rest room. They had a big diaper deck.

Sarah in effect changed Kimmie, washing her special area with baby wipes. When they emerged into the now quite crowded cafe the toddler made an announcement “Em-lee goed on big girl potty, Kimmie goed in panties.”

     *********

Later that afternoon Emily was playing with a Barbie doll. Sarah gave Kimmie a drink of special coffee in a sippy cup and Emily a drink of orange juice. She also gave Kimmie a ‘Betsy wetsy’ doll. Sarah went out to the shops. Kimmie could tell what would happen in a half an hour and she asked her mother “Mommy, can Kimmie go potty.” As advised by her step daughter, Abigail said: “Kimberley needs to learn to wait for the potty, ask me again in an hour.”

Kimmie did her best to seem to be enjoying playing the diaper wetting doll. Emily got really into her Barbie collection. An hour later Kimmie had reached the point she would normally need the bathroom. “Mommy, can Kimmie go potty.” It was humiliating to be sat on the potty and have her mother pulling down her plastic coated training panties and sitting her on the childish potty chair. Still it was better than having Sarah do it.

Emily was really enjoying was really enjoying her dollies. She was paying no attention to something else. As she heard the loud tinkling in the enamel potty it happened. As Abigail was pulling up Kimmie’s training panties Emily ran to her. The toddler was near to tears “Em-lee done wee in panties.” The door opened. Sarah arrived. Kimmie started laughing “Id Em-lee still a baba den??”

Kimmie watched as her Mommy pulled of her soggy panties and carefully washed the little one’s bottom and all around her special areas. As she did so Abigail said: “Never mind Emily, little ones have accidents.” Abigail gave Emily a hug and a kiss. Sarah was furious with Kimmie.  The 17 year old did what her younger half sister said. She went upstairs, fetched the hairbrush and curtsied

“Please Sarah give Kimmie a big spanking cos Kimmie is very naughty.” Perhaps Kimberley thought her accepting the punishment would reduce its severity. She was wrong. Whap, Whap, WHAP! WHAP!! For nearly half an hour Sarah used her full strength. Kimmie  bawled and kicked all that time. Her punishment was not over. Whilst Abigail prepared the meal Sarah thoroughly scrubbed the inside of Kimmie’s mouth with a VERY soapy wash cloth.

Kimmie stood in the corner during supper. She held up her dress, Kimmie's panties were around her ankles. A bar of soap was in her mouth. After supper Kimmie had to wash the dishes. She was sent to bed early without supper and without being allowed to rinse. The next morning, to Kimmie’s surprise, Sarah was nice to her. First Kimmie was allowed to totally rinse her still soapy mouth. The 13 year old was very gentle when she removed Kimmie’s soggy dri nite washed the special area.

Sarah was also gentle with the hairbrush as she brushed Kimmie’s hair  and kind as she braided it back into pig tails. That Thursday was a point at which Kimmie was more or less accepting her new situation. Twice she was kept waiting for an hour for the potty. Twice she was sat down next to her toddler half sister, Emily. Sarah enjoyed Kimmie’s embarrassment and shame.

In the afternoon they went to the park. This time Sarah insisted on fitting Kimmie into the toddler swing next to Emily. Their dresses and training panties were identical in their pink and white stripes. Kimberley’s was a little shorter so that people got to see her plastic covered panties. Kimmie even started enjoying being in the swing. Something else happened. Kimmie felt the loss of control. Again she felt her trainers becoming warm and wet.

Kimmie was surprised at how kind and nice Sarah was. She was walked home. Sarah remarked: “It’s alright. Aunt Sarah still loves little Kimmie even when she has accidents.” A little later Sarah took Kimmie up to the ‘big girl potty’ in the bathroom and let the 17 year old deal with things herself when she needed to do ‘number 2’. The next day Kimmie tried the same trick on Sarah she had tried on Abigail. As soon as she had finished the sippy cup of sweet coffee Kimmie said

“Can Kimmie go potty?” 13 year old Sarah surprised Kimmie. She immediately took the childish potty from under the stairs, pulled down the nearly 18 year old’s training panties and pulled up her dress. In the three minutes she was sat on the potty she could only manage a very slight trickle of pee. Sarah was angry: “Kimmie lied, she said she needed the potty and she did not.”

Sarah gave her older sister two large baby bottles of cranberry juice. Next she was led by the ear and taken to the kitchen sink for a soapy mouth scrubbing. Finally Sarah told Kimmie of the rest of her punishment: “Kimmie is going to stay in the corner for two hours. If she tries to move it will be another two hours. If Kimmie wets or messes her panties she will get a spanking in the diaper position at change time.”

Kimberley was familiar with standing in the corner holding up her dress. Often enough she had, as that day, a cake of wet yellow soap in her mouth. Only this time her bottom was not bare. Instead she was aware of the plastic covered toddler training panties and as the time went on she was more and more available of her need to tinkle. After half an hour Kimmie started fidgeting. Sarah instructed her: “Stay still, or the corner time will start again.” After another half an hour Kimmie just let go and wet her training panties. She took the soap out of her mouth and turned around: [/i]“Kimmie done wee in her panties.”[/i]

She expected Sarah to change her. Instead Sarah said: [/i]“I told you if you moved from the corner your corner time would restart. Now go back into the corner and hold up that dress.”[/i] Sarah put a pile of old newspapers into the corner and stuffed the yellow cake of soap back into Kimmie’s mouth. Kimmie’s hands ached a lot. Half an hour after being sent to the corner, she found herself again wetting her training panties.

Half an hour before her extended corner time was to end she again felt her soggy panties getting warm and she heard the leak going onto the waiting newspaper. This time Sarah was much rougher in washing around Kimmie’s intimate area at change time. Whilst this was happening Kimmie saw her other half sister, Emily using the potty chair and being complimented.

When Abigail had finished helping her toddler she went to her 17 year old daughter. Abigail held up Kimmie’s legs. Sarah took the hairbrush. Kimmie was in the perfect diaper position for a spanking Kimmie lay in that babyish position and bawled as blow after blow arrived on her exposed ass. The routine continued. Over the next week Kimmie had four accidents and Emily only two. Kimmie wanted to avoid a fifth and also needed relief.

Sarah had told her to wait for the potty. Sarah was busy watching television. Abigail was reading a book. Emily happy in her play pen. Kimmie saw where the key to the bathroom was. She crept over and quietly lifted it. She went upstairs on tip toes. Then she gently unlocked the door. It was wonderful for the 17 year old to sit in her normal position in a bathroom. She wiped and then she forgot herself. Instinctively she pulled the lever and operated the flush. Sarah heard.

Kimmie’s few minutes of adult relief had two consequences. One was a LONG and VERY hard spanking. The other consequence was that she was kept waiting longer for the potty. During the next week Emily had only one ‘accident’. Six times in the same week Kimmie found herself losing control and in soggy warm training panties. Sarah was always gentle and kind when Kimmie needed to be changed. It was humiliating, but- physically – it was not unpleasant to be changed in this way.

     *******

Abigail and Mellissa talked to the girls one Saturday lunchtime.  Firstly Abigail explained “You know it is funny Kimberley you and Emily have the same birthday, just 16 years apart. You could have a celebration on the same day.” Melissa added something: “And I have got to know Amy’s Mommy; she is pregnant and is in a rather crowded area. So we can have three parties. You know baby shower and birthday.”

Then Abigail talked to little Emily: “And if you are a good girl and have no accidents for seven days we will go and buy you big girl panties.” Just after lunch the Emily and Kimmie were each sitting on their potty chairs. Sarah was behind Kimmie. That meant that Kimmie could not see the expression on the face of the girl who would be 14 the next day: “And, as we said when we started potty training, if Emily is in big girl panties Kimmie won’t have to wear training panties or sit on a toddler potty chair.”

By Thursday Emily had kept her panties dry for six days. Kimmie had experience five accidents. (Sarah was using stronger concentrations of the formula in Kimmie’s sippy cup drinks.) On Friday Kimmie had three wet accidents. Each time Sarah hugged her and said “Never mind, little ones have accidents, Aunt Sarah make it all better.” On Saturday they went shopping. Abigail pushed Emily in a stroller.

Both Mellissa and Sarah firmly held Kimmie’s hands. Kimmie had been fed a lot of special coffee just after her last time sitting on the potty chair next to Emily. They spent about half an hour looking at suitable panties for properly potty trained little girls. They also looked at outfits, both pants and dresses for little Emily. Lots of people told Emily how clever she was.

Fifteen minutes into this session Kimmie totally lost control. She was aware that her own training panties were very wet. At last Emily emerged from the changing room. She wore blue jeans and a yellow shirt. There was no bulge to allow for bulky trainers. Then Sarah walked over to where Kimmie was standing: “And I promised this other little one that she would not be using a toddler potty chair and training panties when Emily was in big girl panties. But let’s look.”

Sarah lifted Kimmie’s quite short dress. Everyone could see the soggy sagging training panties. As planned she asked: “Have you anything other than training panties which would suit this young lady?” Jane Chang came out with what looked like a large collection of towels: “These are super absorbent baby diapers from England in a bigger size, and we have some plastic panties too.”

At this point Kimmie threw a tantrum. She shouted and stamped her feet “I’m not a baby, I won’t wear diapers.” Abigail asked little Emily if she wanted anything to eat. With the help of Ann Chang and Melissa Sarah was able to walk the now 18 year old girl across the road to a café. The lady’s room had a really solid diaper deck for some of the larger toddlers.

There was quite a big audience in the rest room for what happened next. Sarah removed the soggy training panties and also the rather wet dress. She was washed in that special area Kimmie got bit spanking on the diaper deck in the diaper position. Sarah then fastened two of the over sized diapers around her half sister with safety pins. Plastic panties followed.

Sarah then picked up the struggling 18 year old and carried her back to the Chang’s shop. At that point all Kimmie had on was a vest, the diapers and the plastic panties When she returned to the café not only was Kimmie in very visible plastic panties and diapers, but also a short dress that seemed designed to display them, mittens that restricted her hands and reins.

Sarah was able to push the 18 year old into a high chair. It was tight and uncomfortable for Kimberley but this did not upset Sarah. Kimberley got her first spoon feeding in café full of her former class mates. Sarah kept hold of Kimmie’s reins as they slowly walked home Melissa talked to Kimmie “Well we were going to have two birthday parties and one baby shower, but it looks like a baby shower is the kind of party you need too.”

Sarah talked to Kimmie as well: “I do not really want to spank a baby. But if you are naughty and make a fuss or pretend you are a big girl we will put off your changes. You will get diaper rash. And we will feed you lots of liver, and blended broccoli and sprouts and castor oil.” Kimmie just took what happened to her. Frances Jackson knew that her baby was to be a girl.

Kimmie was given lots of specially made baby dresses. Many of them were identically styled to the ones given to Mrs Jackson for her expected baby. The high chair and crib which Frances Jackson got looked very similar except in size to the ones made for Kimmie. Kimmie was invited to six birthday parties over the following week. She thought the parties for one year olds were embarrassing. Sarah gave her lots of feeds and used same words and tone as the Mommies did when she changed

“Little Miss puddle panties.” However Kimmie was also invited to a couple of parties for slightly older girls. On these occasions Emily came to. Emily told the 3-4 year olds “Em-lee goes in big girl potty Kimmie goes in dydees.” During her first such party Kimmie had an even bigger embarrassment. Her diapers were not only soggy but also stinky.

The night before the next party Kimmie was to attend the 18 year old was surprised that a dri nite was put on under her bulky cloth diapers. She felt things going into her rear. Sarah explained “We want to make sure that you do not do a stinky and Mary’s party.” Pretty soon after she was in her crib the suppositories did their work. The girl who used to think she almost owned the town spent the whole night in messy diapers.

An hour before they were to leave for the party Sarah took Kimmie up to the bathroom. Kimmie got an enema and then a dry nite and double cloth diapers and plastic panties. Kimmie’s humiliations at Mary’s 3rd birthday party were quite serious but did not include a messy diaper.

  *****

Abigail talked to Sarah two weeks before the end of the long summer school vacation. They agreed to talk to Elementary school Principal Watson. Sarah talked to Kimmie: “We are going to try to potty train you. You will be going back to school. However you will start at the beginning, in pre-kindergarten. If you are good you can do a test after a month and get into kindergarten. Then after a month you can do a test and maybe get into 1st grade.”

By this time Kimberley was actually struggling with control. So even though Sarah and Abigail tried to potty train her. The result was that when she got to the pre kindergarten class in September Kimmie was one of two students in that class still in diapers. The other girls were not nice to the big girl in a diaper By October Kimmie passed the test and moved from pre-kindergarten to kindergarten.

In the Kindergarten class she was one of three kids in plastic coated training panties. In 1st grade in  November Kimmie wore training panties without plastic covering. During this time Kimmie was still subject to regular spankings from her younger sister. In December Kimmie was in second grade. She threw an awful tantrum when Sarah did not let her watch a television show.

Kimmie expected a spanking. Instead Kimmie spent Christmas in diapers. She had diaper rash by the time she was spoon fed her Christmas dinner, blended broccoli and spinach. Kimmie and Sarah both graduated High School In the same year, Kimmie at 20 and Sarah at 16. Sarah got a college scholarship. Kimmie got a job as Molly Hughes’s assistant helping Kindergarten and Kindergarten class. However when Kimmie made mistakes or was not as kind as she should be to the little kids Molly had Kimmie’s Mom’s authority to use the hairbrush.

                                                                                                                            The End

 

[cute little kokiri girl]

UNINFORMED AND UNIFORMED.

by Joe Doe.

BARBARA, A SUCCESSFUL PSYCHOLOGIST, AGREES TO TRY OUT HER HALLOWEEN; COSTUME OVER THE WEEKEND TO WIN A BET WITH HER DAUGHTER, JENNY. LONG TIME READERS WON'T BE SURPRISED WHEN THE EXPERIMENT QUICKLY SPIRALS OUT OF CONTROL.

Part 1

"I've said it before, but I'll say it again. That new suit looks fantastic on you, Jenny." Barbara Wilson put down her tennis racket and smiled. Although her 18-year-old daughter, Jenny, had been in college only two; months, the changes in her personality and demeanor were stunning. The tastefully chic business wardrobe that Jenny had purchased for her after-school internship confirmed it.  Barbara's little girl was all grown up.

Jenny straightened her blazer and smiled, basking in her mother's compliment. "Yeah, the extra work of the internship is worth it just for the clothes," she said. "It sure beats the heck out of those horrible uniforms we had to wear at St. Aggie." "Not the uniforms speech again," her mother sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I know you hated the uniforms, but it was the hard work you put in at St. Agnes that got you your college scholarship, your internship, and those clothes you're so fond of. You really make too big of a deal out of it, if you ask me. Clothes don't change the person you are inside."

"But clothes do change the way others treat you, and that impacts how you feel about yourself," Jenny countered. "I can't believe that a big time psychologist like you doesn't understand that. Did YOU ever actually WEAR a school uniform?  

Or. could it be that, on this ONE subject, Mother dear, you are a tad uninformed?" "No, I never actually WORE a uniform," Barbara admitted.  "But sometimes I wish I had.  I think school uniforms are quite attractive.

They're inexpensive, convenient, and, as a 'big time psychologist,' I can tell you that they help alleviate peer pressure and class distinctions.  In fact, at the 'school; board meetings' for several months now, we've been discussing implementing a new uniform policy, so I'm not quite as clueless as you seem to think, young lady." "So, voting for someone else to do something makes you an expert in what it feels like to do it?" Jenny asked, sarcastically. "You should run for Congress, Mom."

"My psychology practice pays better, dear," her mother replied, snidely. "Besides, the women in Congress don't wear school uniforms either, so I don't think that would give me the experience you seem to think I require." Barbara poured herself a glass of water and sat down at the kitchen table opposite her daughter.  Although 38, Barbara was; in excellent shape, but at 5'2" she was also considerably shorter; than her latest tennis opponent, who had gleefully run her all over the court.  Barbara had won, of course, but her diminutive stature had made it quite a workout.

Of course, there was another possibility. Could it be that she was actually getting...old? Even at 38, she knew that she still looked youthful.  She was; regularly carded at bars and liquor stores. But was that simply because of her height?  Or (worse yet) were the bouncers simply humoring her? Barbara shuddered at the idea. Then a new (and happier) thought replaced it.

"There's a Halloween party your father and I have to go to next; week, and I still haven't picked a costume," she said, thoughtfully. "Maybe I could go as a uniformed school girl.  That would solve my party costume dilemma, and it would give me a chance to experience what it would be like to wear a uniform for a day." "Nice try, Mom, but wearing a uniform to a costume party doesn't give you the experience I was talking about.

If I dress up like Cleopatra, that doesn't mean that people will treat me like I'm Queen of the Nile.  I'd be treated like a woman at a costume party in a white dress and a plastic crown." "Actually I was thinking of something a bit more elaborate," Barbara said. "We can drive up to that mall way up north and buy my school uniform there. In those clothes you look like an adult...."

"I AM an adult, Mother," Jenny replied, sharply. "Yes, well.... In any case, we can say that I'm a new student starting school. Since it's a bit of a drive, and your father;is out of town, we can even stay overnight at that hotel up by the mall.

That will give me a chance to interact with people a bit in my new uniform." Barbara paused and looked thoughtful. "Do you really think...that anyone would believe...that I'm a teenager?" she asked her daughter, haltingly. "I mean, to be honest, that's the part I'm really curious about. You don't think I look...too old, do you?"

"You look great for an 'older' lady," Jenny said, with a laugh. "If we get you out of those frumpy I-AM-A-DOCTOR clothes you'll look great.  But it's still a stupid idea.   As soon as you see how easy it is to pass as a teenager, you'll chicken out and change back into your adult clothes.  You won't experience any of the downsides, and then I'll have to listen to some 'I know what uniforms are like' speech for the rest of my life.  No thanks!"

The word "chicken" immediately awoke Barbara's competitive nature. "Then let's make a little wager, daughter dear.  From now until the time your father returns home on Sunday, I'll be the daughter, and you can be my mom.

You'll be in charge, but you'll have all the responsibilities, too.  You'll drive me, and you can pay for my uniform -- AND our hotel stay." "And what do I get out of this?" Jenny asked.  "Other than the bill, of course?"

"If I go the entire weekend without 'chickening out,' to use your phrase, then you'll come to my school board meeting next week and tell them how much you loved your school uniform," Barbara said. "And you'll cook dinners on Saturdays for a month." "I thought I asked what I get?" Jenny insisted. "If I DO chicken out, I'll pick up the whole tab for the weekend, and buy you that used sports car you've been pestering your father; about," Barbara replied with a smile.

Jenny pondered the offer. "You want me to betray every single kid who ever attends school in order to get a second hand car?" she asked, slyly. "And I'd have to spend date nights for a month slinging hash for you and Dad?" But then she smiled. "Well, it is a convertible...." She paused and rubbed her chin pensively.  "And I would be TOTALLY in charge, right?"

"If you pay the bills, you call the shots," her mother said.  "Of course, as a teenager, I reserve the right to WHINE if you pick a hotel that is anything less than fabulous." "Deal," Jenny said, shaking her mother's hand. "It's quite a drive, so we had better get started soon." "While I'm taking my shower, can you see if you can find a t-shirt or something that would make me look a bit younger?" Barbara said. "I don't think a business suit, silk blouse, and heels will cut it today."

"Agreed," Jenny said. "I think you're too short for the stuff in my closet...now, but I have some old stuff in the basement that should fit." She smiled and adopted a maternal tone.  "And hurry up with that shower, young lady.  I want to get there before midnight." "YES, Mother," Barbara used her best "you're-annoying-me-to-death" faux teenager voice. "And where do you think you're going, young lady?" Jenny asked.

"Upstairs to shower," Barbara said, in confusion. "No way.  You always made me shower in the laundry room when I got home from soccer practice. And that's where I want you to shower now." "You were filthy, Jenn-...I mean, 'Mother,'" Barbara replied. "Well, you're all hot and sweaty after your tennis game. And isn't that a scrape on your knee?  I don't want you dripping blood all over my nice white bathroom."  

Jenny put one hand on her hip and pointed sternly towards the door. "Laundry Room.  Now. March." Barbara gave her daughter an evil look before skulking into the laundry room.  The cement floor of the stark and utilitarian room was a far cry from the comfy upstairs bathroom, but it would get the job done. Besides, Barbara wasn't going to lose a bet that easily.

The small laundry room didn't have a shower per se, just a shower nozzle and a floor drain.  The lack of a tub or a curtain had elicited endless complaints from Jenny over the years. Since Barbara used the laundry room only for laundry, she had ignored her daughter's griping.  And she had also neglected to fix the lock on the outside door, since the laundry room was securely separated from the rest of the house by a sturdy door with a lock that worked.

The broken lock had caused Jenny a great deal of embarrassment a few weeks ago when their neighbor, old Mr. Peepers, had "accidentally" walked in on her while she was in the shower. 

Barbara read Mr. Peepers the riot act and told him in no uncertain terms that if he ever entered her house again without knocking, she would call the police. But, as a trained psychologist, Barbara decided that minimizing the incident would help Jenny reconcile with Mr. Peepers more quickly.

Although she casually mentioned to Jenny that she had spoken with Mr. Peepers, she kept her tone purposefully indifferent.  She breezily dismissed the incident as a harmless accident. She said that Jenny's accusations were "silly" and chided her for her "overwrought melodramatics." 

"He's got to be at least 80," Barbara had joked. "I doubt he could even see you through those thick glasses that he wears. Besides, I suspect that you don't have anything he hasn't seen," she chuckled.

To say that Jenny had been furious with her mother's nonchalant response would be an understatement. Now, of course, it was Barbara who had to contend with the laundry room's shortcomings. She tried to shower quickly, but adjusting the water temperature correctly with the two rusty old spigots was difficult.  She had barely gotten herself wet when her daughter returned.  

"When are you going to learn to put your clothes away properly?" Jenny said, as she made a beeline for the tennis outfit heaped on top of the dryer. "I'm not your maid, you know." Barbara immediately turned her back.  "Jenny, I would like a little PRIVACY, please!" she shouted. "Don't take that tone of voice with me, Missy," Jenny shot back. "When I complained about the laundry room, you said I was being silly.

My fellow students weren't particularly happy the day you and the other moms marched into the locker room at St. Aggie when we were showering, but we didn't have much to say about it, did we?" She handed Barbara a bar of soap. "The soap on the floor is kind of gross, so I brought you a fresh bar.  I'll be back with a towel and your clothes in a few minutes, so hurry up."

She scooped up her mother's shoes and clothes and headed towards the door. Barbara felt a tiny chill as Jenny opened the door to the house, and the air conditioning blew into the laundry room. "One other thing, dear.  I'd hurry up, if I were you. That neighbor boy always tries to peep through the window whenever he sees steam.  And your old friend, Mr. Peepers, always seems to find some excuse to visit."

Barbara swallowed as she looked up at the small laundry room window. The house was a split level, and that wall backed onto a tree-lined walkway between the two houses. Whenever Jenny complained, Barbara told her that the shrubs in front of the window made it too dark for anyone to see anything. But, of course, that was the view looking OUT. The bright fluorescent lighting in the laundry room meant that looking IN was another story altogether.

Barbara suddenly became extremely conscious of the thick cloud of steam that had formed around her.  The laundry room window was open just a smidge.  But as Barbara watched the steam drift towards the window, she realized that a smidge would be all it took. She quickly rinsed the shampoo out of hair. She had to get out there NOW. KNOCK!  KNOCK!  KNOCK!  Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a banging on the outside door.

"Who is it?" Jennifer called out in a sing song voice. Barbara watched in horror as her daughter, bath towel and clothes in hand, scurried back into the room and headed for the outside door.... And opened it. 

Mr. Peepers looked at Jennifer with an expression of surprise and disappointment.  "Oh...I'm sorry...I thought you were in the show....  Uh...I mean, how are you?  Uh...your dad asked me for some finishing nails...well, a couple of years ago.

I was in the hardware store the other day, and I saw some, so I thought I'd bring them over.  I could put them in the toolbox over there in the corner...." Barbara gasped as she looked at the toolbox, which was sitting comfortably on a shelf less than 6 feet from the shower. She shrank back against the wall as Mr. Peepers attempted to peer around Jenny.  "But, if this is a bad time, I could come back later...."

"Oh, don't be silly," Jenny said, brightly. "Why don't you just put the nails on top of the toolbox?" Barbara's fingers curled and tried to dig into the concrete as she pressed her back tightly against the laundry room wall. 

Mr. Peepers broke into an enormous grin as soon as he spotted Barbara standing naked against the wall. "Well, well, well," he said. "So it was YOU taking the shower. I guess my wife was right after all.... You ARE a natural blonde."

His leering comment awoke Barbara to the fact that her hands were still pressed against the wall.  She quickly cupped her crotch with her right hand while shielding her breasts with her left.... As if Mr. Peepers hadn't already seen everything! 

"Get out of here, you old pervert!" Barbara yelled. "I'll have you arrested!  Get the fuck out of here!" "Now, now, now!" he retorted. "I knocked before I entered. And your daughter invited me in.  If there is anyone who should be arrested, it's you -- prancing around in front of me in your birthday suit when all I wanted to do was drop off some nails."

"He does have a point, Mother," Jenny said, not even trying to hide her amusement at her mother's predicament. Barbara turned her face to the wall and shouted over her shoulder at her daughter. "I want him out of here NOW, Jennifer!" "Geez, Mom, don't make such a big deal out of it." Jennifer mocked her mother with her own words.  "I really think you're...well, overreacting. It's not like you have something he hasn't seen."

"Nice caboose, too," Mr. Peepers added, as he slowly ran his eyes over Barbara's exposed bottom. "So what do you say, Jennifer? Should we call the police?  I have some buddies on the force who wouldn't even let her get dressed before they cuff her. And registering her as a sex offender down at the station would probably take some time.  You could bring her clothes to the station tomorrow."

"Show's over," Jennifer said, crisply.  "I think you've had enough fun for one day.  Why don't you just hand over the nails and leave?"  He smiled and handed her the nails.  "Nice seeing you," he called out as he opened the door to the yard.

"It's obvious now where Jenny gets her good looks." Barbara started to yell as soon as he had closed the door, but Jennifer quickly cut her off.  "Dry yourself and put on your new clothes.  

I'll be waiting in the car.  If you want to CHICKEN OUT, that would be just fine.  We can go to the car dealership instead of the mall. But remember... I'm just treating you the way you treat me. That was the bet, wasn't it?" The next few minutes alone in the laundry room gave Barbara a chance to cool off. Although she was angry and humiliated, she had to admit that Jenny was basically right.

Although she was not pleased with her daughter's choice of clothing, the thought of a return visit from Mr. Peepers compelled her to dress quickly. The white training bra was an embarrassingly [ good fit, the panties were emblazoned with smiling bears, and the midriff-baring t-Shirt left her belly-button fully exposed.  

She tried repeatedly to tug up her low-rise, cut-off denim shorts, but to no avail; although she didn't have a mirror, she was certain the slightest bend on her part would expose the waistband' of her, juvenile underpants to the world.

The plain white ankle socks fit, but Jenny had replaced Barbara's stylish Nikes with a pair of beat-up old sneakers that she had last worn on a campout years before. Since there was no hair dryer in the laundry room, she used the band Jenny had provided to tie her hair into a ponytail. It didn't really matter.  As soon as she got upstairs, she would change clothes and dry her hair properly. ]

But when she tried to open the door to the house, she found it was locked.  Her keys were in her purse in the house, so she pounded on the door and shouted. No one answered. She could use the front door; that was never locked. That would mean she would have to go out into the yard.  But, although she absolutely despised the outfit her daughter had selected, she knew she really had no choice.

As she walked out of the laundry room, she was surprised to see her 19-year-old neighbor, Jimmy, quickly walking out of her yard and back toward his house. "Can I help you, Jimmy?" she asked. "Uh...no," he replied, awkwardly.

"I was just doing some yard work. When I saw your hedges needed trimming, too, I just thought I'd help out." Barbara's blinked nervously as she noticed the freshly trimmed hedge next to the laundry room window. "What's that bottle in your pocket, Jimmy?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Uh...nothing...just a bottle of window cleaner.  The laundry room window looked a little dirty, that's all." He tried to stuff the bottle deeper into his pocket, but it was too late. "The label on that bottle says ANTI-FOG, Jimmy," Barbara observed. His reaction surprised her. Although he was 19, he was also. hopelessly geeky, and Barbara expected him to react with the same nervous stammer he always had whenever they talked.

But instead, he simply looked at her and smiled. The leering look on his face as his eyes slowly ran up her bare legs caused her mouth to go dry. The role reversal puzzled her. Why was she standing pigeon-toed while this teenage boy brazenly looked HER up and down?  

She had caught him practically red-handed committing a crime. But it was Barbara who stood there shifting her weight awkwardly from foot to foot as Jimmy boldly ogled her. He normally couldn't even look her in the eye. But now he was carefully examining her flat tummy and slender bare legs.

The inspection was cut short by two quick bursts of a car horn, followed by Jenny's voice. "Let's get a move on!  I want to get there TO-DAY!" she shouted. Barbara turned and obediently scampered towards the car.

As she ran towards the car, she heard Jimmy's voice behind her. "Tell Jenny if she ever needs more finishing nails, I have plenty," he said, happily. "And if you ever need that little hedge of YOURS trimmed...." Blushing, Barbara ran towards the car with a new appreciation for the power of clothing.

[cute little kokiri girl]

THE POWER REVERSAL BET/EXPERIMENT CONTINUES, AND BARBIE'S APPRECIATION FOR THE POWER OF COSTUMING WILL GROW RICHER AND DEEPER DURING AN ENCOUNTER WITH A SHREWISH SALESCLERK. JENNY AND BARBIE HEAR OF PADDYWELL ACADEMY.

Part 2

When Barbara reached the car she looked behind her. Sure enough, Jimmy was still leering at her. No doubt he had enjoyed the rear view of Barbara running towards the car in her low-rise shorts. She had planned to simply ask for the house keys so that she could let herself back into the house to change. But, when she saw Mr. Peepers ogling her from his front window, she quickly got into the car in order to end the free show.

"Jenny, can I have the keys?" she said.  "These pants are indecent, and the bra is way too...too...." "Welcome to high school, little girl," Jenny chuckled.  "Like it or not, you have to wear what the other kids wear if you don't want to have the stuffings knocked out of you."  She put the car into gear and began to back out of the driveway. "Imagine a big time psychologist not understanding peer pressure," she teased.

"Don't they teach you kids anything in school these days?" she added, clearly relishing the chance to mock her mother with her own words. "But my purse is in the house, Jenny," Barbara whined. "Just as well," Jenny said.

"I'm paying the bills, and you'll do things my way.  No money and no ID will keep you from wandering off when we're at the mall. Besides, I don't want you wasting money on a lot of junk."  

The phrase "wasting money on a lot of junk" was one of Barbara's favorites, and it steamed her to hear her daughter use it on her. But the next phrase brought the argument to an end. "You know, since you called me 'Jenny,' I should win the bet by default," Jenny said, with a smile.  "Parents name their children, and call their children by their first names, not the other way around. Maybe we should just go to the car dealership."

"I'm sorry...Mom," Barbara replied.  Although she knew now that she was the victim of a wager gone awry, she would be damned if she was going to buy her smug daughter that car. "Okay, Barbie, we'll just let it go for now.  

We WILL have to discuss the punishment for your flip attitude towards me and the disgraceful language you used in front of Mr. Peepers. But now we'll just concentrate on getting your school uniform.

"'Barbie' is such a cute name, don't you think?" Jenny added, playfully. "It's much cuter than 'Barbara.' 'Barbie' reminds me of the doll. How would you like to be my great big Barbie doll, honey?  

We'll take you out and get you a nice new school uniform, just like the Barbie dolls get every fall." "Whatever you say, Mother," Barbara replied, coolly. She hated to be called "Barbie," and she hated Barbie dolls even more. But she knew that she wouldn't win the bet unless she played along.

As the drive continued, she began to wonder what her "punishment" might be. She hadn't spanked Jenny for several years. But that didn't keep her from threatening Jenny with the juvenile punishment from time to time.

"Don't ever think you're too old for a spanking," she had warned. "That antique slipper on my dresser is still reserved for you. You remember that slipper, don't you, Jenny?  Well, as long as I'm paying the bills, you'll do what I say!"

Barbara's bottom cheeks flexed defensively as she recalled the extremely unfortunate choice of words. Although she hadn't experienced it herself, she knew from her daughter's reaction that, though the slipper didn't do any actual damage, it stung like a fury. And to make matters even worse, she had always spanked Jenny bare-bottom. Barbara fidgeted in her seat as she contemplated her options. 

Although Jenny had inherited her mother's drive and determination, she had inherited her large frame from her father.  At 5'10", Jenny..; was a full 8 inches taller than her mother, and, although Barbara was in excellent shape, she knew that, if push came to shove, her muscular and athletic daughter could handle her easily. 

At the first stoplight, Jenny stopped to buckle Barbie's belt. The action was noticed by an old woman in the crosswalk who smiled approvingly.

Barbara looked at her daughter closely. Jenny had exchanged her contacts for her emergency wire rim glasses, doubtlessly to look older. With her stylishly short hair, makeup, and power suit, she looked every bit the young professional. Barbara barely recognized the tiny girl with the pony tail whose reflection stared stupidly back at her.  Without makeup, she looked every bit as young as her clothes suggested.

"You know, Barbie, if your new uniform is REALLY cute, maybe we can have you wear it to the next board meeting," Jenny chuckled. "What better way to prove how darling they are then to model one for all your friends?" Jenny eventually tired of teasing her mother, and Barbara at last closed her eyes.  It had been a hard day on the tennis courts, and she was relieved that her daughter was driving.

As her mind began to drift, she began to think about her school uniform.  She hoped it was plaid; she liked plaid.  A white blouse and a knee-length skirt would be nice.  If done correctly, she might even look like a stewardess. But, as she drifted farther off, other images invaded her mind. Her flight attendant fantasy quickly devolved into a nightmare of curfews, homework, and school rules.

She was at the Board meeting now, and she was wearing the school uniform. Mr. Peepers and Jimmy both had front row seats, and they grinned broadly as the superintendent of schools turned Barbie over his knee. "As you can see, these uniforms make it easy to raise a girl's skirt and lower her underpants for a spanking," he said, pedantically. "Here...let me demonstrate...."

The scene shifted suddenly and she felt dazed.  There was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her, and then her daughter's voice, "Wake up, Barbie!  We're here." Barbie wiped her eyes. Although she hated the idea of marching through the mall in her skimpy outfit, she was nonetheless relieved to be rescued from her Halloween fright-mare. Little did she know that the real nightmare was just beginning. 

After less than a minute in the mall, Barbie realized that her daughter had been right about her clothing. While the professionally attired Jenny earned nary a glance, Barbie's skimpy outfit made her a visual target.

Most men noticed her bare midriff before their eyes traveled down her legs. A few took their time; others quickly dismissed her as tasty but deadly jail-bait.  

Sometimes they just gave her a quick leer; it was the men seated on the benches who seemed to make the most leisurely appraisals. Most of them never even bothered to make eye contact although a few did take the time for a suggestive smile. 

Barbie liked the men who simply ogled her better than the men that ogled and then smiled. The smiles weren't friendly or warm; to her, the smiles were knowing and sarcastic. The smiles slyly suggested Barbie was a little bimbo unworthy of serious attention.  

It was a sign of contempt.  "You look nice today, you little tease," their smiles seemed to say. "Do you know what I would like to do to you?" Most of the women didn't make eye contact either, but the few who did look her in the face, didn't bother to hide their loathing or disgust. Barbie knew the look well; it was the same look that she routinely gave to Britney wannabes. Barbie wanted to stop the women and explain that she wasn't a little tramp.  She was one of them.

But, deep down, she knew that it would do no good. She was no longer one of them. Now she was one of THEM. By the time their long march to the uniform store ended, Barbie felt totally defeated. The perky tone of the old woman running the shop did little to help her spirits. 

The woman totally ignored Barbie and focused instead on Jenny. "What can I do for you today, ma'am?" the old woman asked, pleasantly. "Let me guess...surgical scrubs?  A nurse's uniform, perhaps?"

"No, it's not for me; it's for my daughter," Jennifer said.  "She's going to be giving a talk on school uniforms, and I wanted to see if we could find one for her to wear as sort of a demonstration." "Splendid," the clerk replied. "We have uniforms from all of the local schools.  They're all along the back wall.  Was there something in particular you were interested in?"

Barbie seized the opportunity. "I wanted something that was plaid...not too uniformy, but kind of...." But Jenny had already moved to a rack in the back. "What is this?" she asked, holding up a short gray blazer. "You have excellent taste," the clerk gushed.  "Those are the uniforms for Paddywell Academy." "Paddywell?" Jenny said, her curiosity piqued. "I've never heard of it."  

"It's a private reformatory for young women aged 18 to 40.  The; women are usually there for petty offenses -- library fines, parking violations, jaywalking, that sort of thing. The headmaster, Dr. Leamus, says the structured boarding school environment turns even the most obnoxious hellion into a polite little girl." The clerk dropped her voice and whispered to Jenny.  "Of course, there WAS that scandal a few years ago, but that doesn't seem to have slowed the place down very much."

"Scandal?" Barbie said.  "What sort of scandal?" The clerk blithely ignored Barbie and kept on talking to Jenny. "As you can see the blazer is 100% polyester.  It's stain-resistant and machine washable, so...." "Tell me about the scandal," Jenny said. "Well, a few years ago, one of the girls escaped.  

Don't ask me how; the security there is like Alcatraz. Anyway, she went to the police and claimed that the male professors watched the young women in the shower, and spanked them, and...um...used them."   The clerk dropped her voice and whispered in Jenny's ear, "That is, used them in...inappropriate ways."

"I think I get the picture," Jenny said. "What happened?" "Nothing, of course," the saleswoman shrugged.  "The Sheriff and the mayor are both on Paddywell's board.  Actually, if you want to visit, it's just a mile down the road. 

It's a big Gothic building on top of a hill.  There's a huge stone wall around it and, about 100 yards beyond that, an electric fence.  It's so close that sometimes when I walk out to my car at night I can actually hear the guard dogs barking. I think I have a business card somewhere...." "Guard dogs?" Barbie said. "Electric fence?"

The older woman looked over her glasses at Barbie. "Your habit of interrupting adults suggests a visit to Paddywell might be just the thing you need," she said, slyly. Barbie swallowed. She wasn't interrupting.  She was just asking a question.  It wasn't fair! After putting Barbie back in her place, the clerk immediately returned to her conversation with Jenny. "I should warn you in advance that Dr. Leamus takes only students who are 18 years or older."

Barbie's jaw dropped. She had been worried that no one would believe that she was Jenny's daughter. But obviously that was not a problem. The salesclerk handed Barbie the skirt and jacket combination. "This is your size, dear; why don't you go into the changing room and try it on?" "Do you sell regulation Academy underwear?" Jenny asked. "Of course. But, if your daughter tries it on, you can't return it."

"No problem. I guarantee you are going to get a sale tonight." The clerk's mood brightened further.  "I'll get it right away, ma'am. And a regulation blouse and tie, as well." Barbie looked at the outfit doubtfully.

It was a gray blazer with an ugly gold, red, and blue patch on the breast. The words "PADDYWELL" was written out in Gothic script in a crescent curve at the top of the patch.  Below that was a picture of a paddle, a tawse, and a cane, crossed to form a sort of 6-pointed star. At the bottom of the patch was a Latin phrase: Castigo Acerbe Castigo Nudos

It was exactly what Barbie didn't want. The absurd and brightly colored patch eliminated the slightest doubt that this was a school uniform. And the image of the cane and strap would doubtlessly draw nervous laughter and knowing smiles from everyone who saw it. 

"I don't think a bra is really necessary in her case," the clerk said, coldly, once again referring to Barbie in the 3rd person. "Dr. Leamus prefers tight half-shirts for the underdeveloped girls."

"I'm not a girl, and I'm not underdeveloped," Barbie shot back. "And you need glasses, you old biddy." "Barbie, I'm shocked...SHOCKED!" Jenny said in her best "hand-in-the-cookie-jar" voice. "Here this nice woman is trying to help us, and you insult her.  We're going to have a lot to talk about tonight, young lady." Jenny took the other things from the clerk and tossed them to Barbie, who managed to catch them, awkwardly.

"Changing room!" Jenny said.  "March!" Barbie couldn't decide what was the worst part of this experience. Was it the uniform? The way her opinions were being ignored?  The ugly and ominous patch?  Her daughter's attitude? 

As she slouched off to the changing room, holding the uniform in one hand and the underwear in the other, feeling like a prisoner walking the last mile, Barbie decided that it was definitely the salesclerk's smug, superior smile.

The one good thing about the skimpy outfit Jenny had given her to wear was that it didn't take long to remove.  Barbie ripped the cellophane off the panties and quickly put them on. The low-rise panties were snug and tight, with a very high leg cut. As she looked over her shoulder, she could see that the waistband left the top of her buttocks just barely visible. In front, a few blonde pubic hairs peeked out enticingly.

Although the underpants were plain, white, undecorated cotton they were unlike any school uniform panties she had ever seen.  These underpants were not designed for comfort or wear. At a real reformatory these panties would make no sense.

But, as she recalled the salesclerk's whispered tales of "inappropriate" behavior, the puzzle came together. These panties were selected by a man. Barbie's realization was interrupted by a flood of light as the salesclerk casually ripped open the changing room curtain.  

"You see, I was right," the woman said, brightly. "She doesn't need a bra at all." Barbie's arms flew over her chest to cover her tiny buds. "You hurry up and change, dear...quick like a bunny!" the clerk patronized.

"Your mother looks like a very sophisticated and successful woman, and I'm sure she has lots of important things to do." The salesclerk didn't even notice Barbie's infuriated scowl, not that it would have mattered if she had. As the woman walked away, Barbie saw Jenny standing by, arms folded.

Jenny's satisfied "I-told-you-so" grin spoke volumes. Barbie tried not to expose herself as she closed the curtain, but it was yet another battle that she lost.  And Jenny's smug laughter made her defeat all the more complete. 

Her daughter HAD told her so, but she wouldn't listen.  Barbie was too smart, too educated, too worldly to let a little thing like a change of clothes get the better of her. What a difference a few hours can make.

She quickly pulled on her t-shirt. As she had feared, the tight half-shirt left her flat as a board. The starched blouse and, dorky clip-on tie were awful, and the scratchy gray micro-skirt barely covered her underpants. When Barbie walked out into the main store in her new uniform, the salesclerk actually clapped her hands. "How delightful! How charming!  It's as cute as a bug."

To her distress, Barbie noticed that another couple had entered the store. The woman was looking at nurses' uniforms while her bored husband sat in a chair and stared blankly into space. But when the man saw Barbie leave the dressing room, he quickly changed chairs to that he could get a better view. "Why don't you walk back and forth, and turn a few times, so we can get a better look at it, dear," the clerk suggested, unhelpfully.

Barbie looked at the grinning man nervously. She hated the uniform, and she hated the way everyone was looking at her. But when her "Mother" nodded, she reluctantly began to "model" the clothes. 

She tried to tug/pull the skirt down as she walked back and forth. "I think you made a mistake with the skirt," she said anxiously. "This is WAY too short." "No, that's how it's supposed to be, dear," the clerk replied, condescendingly. "The stricter the school, the shorter the skirt."

The salesclerk once again redirected her conversation to the woman with the checkbook, Jenny. "And, as you can see, Paddywell is as strict as they come.  Isn't it just ADORABLE?" "Just peachy!" Jenny replied.  "So M-...uh...Barbie, what do you think of school uniforms NOW?" "I hate it!  I look like a dork!  The tie is so nerdy, and the skirt barely covers my butt!"   "Perfect!" Jenny said, enthusiastically. "We'll take it."

"But, MOM!" Barbie whined. "I can't wear THIS! If the wind blows...." The salesclerk lifted the front of Barbie's skirt and completed the sentence in a sing-song voice, "Everyone will see where the grass grows!"

Barbie looked across the room at the grinning man, who was now staring directly at the curly blonde hairs at the top of her pubic mound.   Crimson-faced, Barbie angrily yanked her skirt down. She couldn't believe that the old woman had just lifted her skirt.  IN PUBLIC!

"You know, Dr. Leamus usually keeps the girls shaved for just that reason," the clerk said, her voice once again dropping to a whisper.  "You really should consider that if she is going to be wearing this on a regular basis." "I'll certainly keep that in mind," Jenny said, thoughtfully. "What about shoes?" Barbie spent another 30 minutes parading around the store in the skimpy uniform, much to the amusement of the seated male customer. 

The poor man just wasn't able to find anything he liked his wife in for the longest time. First there were the black shoes, then the socks.  And the clerk spent more time fitting Barbie with the atrociously ugly school cap than she had fitting her with the uniform. "Should I wrap it...or will she just wear it home?" the clerk suggested, maliciously, as she swiped Jenny's credit card.

(The old biddy!  She knew that Barbie hated that uniform, and now she wanted to make her parade around the mall in it.) "No, please wrap it up," Jenny said.  "I want to keep it nice. Jenny turned to Barbie.  

"Go change back into your regular clothes, dear. I saw another place I wanted to stop at on the way out." "Quick like a bunny!" the salesclerk added, merrily. For the first time the clerk had actually asked Barbie to do something she WANTED to do.  Jenny chuckled as she watched Barbie obediently scurry back to the changing room.

[cute little kokiri girl]

BARBIE LEARNS THAT THE MALL'S DOC-IN-A-BOX CLINIC HAPPILY GIVES VERY THOROUGH SCHOOL SPORTS PHYSICALS.

Part 3

Barbie was naked save for the brief reformatory underpants when the salesclerk boldly ripped the changing curtain open. Since Jenny and her credit card were not present, the clerk dispensed with her insincere smile. "Your mother said I should start wrapping as soon you got undressed" she said. "Hurry up, you little brat. I don't have all night." Barbie felt her stomach knot.  

Jenny had sent the clerk back into the dressing room. Apparently her "Mother" was determined to show her what it was like to have no modesty whatsoever. And it was only Friday night. How was she ever going to make it to, Sunday? She had already stripped down to her panties. The clerk folded her arms and grinned evilly as, clearly embarrassed, Barbie struggled to wiggle the tight garment off her hips.

But the scowl returned as Barbie faced her to hand over her final shred of modesty.  Although Barbie was now stark naked, the gruff clerk didn't bother to close either the curtain to her changing room or the curtain that separated the changing area from the rest of the store. 

Barbie quickly closed the curtain and changed back into her street clothes.  Although she hated the idea of parading through the mall in her skimpy "teen tease" outfit, it was still infinitely preferable to the reformatory uniform.

Much to her relief, the nurse and her voyeur husband were gone by the time she emerged from the changing room.  The clerk soon arrived from the back of the store and handed Jenny the neatly bagged clothes.  

"While I was in the back, I took the liberty of. calling Paddywell and telling them about your daughter. Dr. Leamus wasn't there, but Prof. Lakewood said that, if you would like to take a tour, you can drop by any time this weekend.  

He says that, if you like the establishment, you could even stay overnight, as his guest. I think that would be much nicer than a hotel, don't you?" "Much less expensive, too," Jenny added, giving Barbie a knowing look. 

"The guest rooms are quite opulent, from what I've been told," the clerk continued.  "Of course, your daughter would have to sleep in the dormitory with the other girls, but, since she has a uniform, I don't think that would be a problem.

I do think they'd probably want to shave off her little blonde peach fuzz before they let her shower with the other girls, though." Barbie's hand flew to the front of her shorts in an involuntary defensive response. Her mind was racing. Didn't that scandal involve men supervising female students in the shower room? 

"I put the Paddywell business card in the bag and also threw in an extra set of underwear, free of charge, in case you decide to stay overnight," the clerk said.  "Once again, I'd really suggest that you try it.  I hear the food is quite wonderful....  Well, the food for the faculty and guests is quite wonderful, to be more precise," she said, once again giving Barbie a knowing smile.

Barbie looked over her shoulder at the grinning woman as Jenny led her by the hand out of the store. The clerk gave Barbie a playful wink and theatrically rubbed her bottom. Barbie was once again exposed to the leering glances of the mall's many patrons, but she didn't care. At least she was out of that awful shop. 

She was surprised when Jenny stopped and opened the door to a tiny "Doc-in-a-Box" medical center that occupied a corner in the Mall. "Why are we stopping here?" she asked. "Aren't you feeling well?"

Jenny smiled. "Can't you guess?  Remember, you're my daughter now." Barbie looked at Jenny blankly. She hadn't a clue. But it all came back instantly when Jenny began speaking to the receptionist.

"My daughter is going out for the soccer team this year. I was wondering if she could get a quick physical?" "Well, I have the forms for the Monroe High School Sports Physical right here," the receptionist said. "But we were going to close in a few minutes, and the nurse has already gone home."  

"That's not a problem," Jenny replied.  "I can stay in the room." Barbie was stunned.  Jenny had complained that the large "group physicals" at St. Agnes were humiliating, especially since Barbara and the other mothers usually stayed in the room and munched on doughnuts while the girls were put through their paces. 

Barbara had always dismissed Jenny's concerns as "silly."  But, as she watched the receptionist pull down a fresh piece of paper to cover the exam table, her perspective instantly changed.

"You win the bet," she said to Jenny.  "I'll get you the car. I was totally, completely, 100% wrong, and you were absolutely right. Let's go home." Jenny leaned back in her chair and smiled triumphantly. After a long pause, she said, "I'm sure you don't mean that, dear. You're just nervous about your exam. But that's normal for girls your age. Don't worry...I'll be right here, watching everything."

Barbie gritted her teeth as once again her daughter mocked her with her own words.  "No, I was wrong," Barbie said.  "I was more than wrong; I was stupid.  You tried to explain the uniform thing to me, and I just wouldn't listen.  Well, I've learned my lesson, and we can go home now.  I'll pay you back for the uniform, and the hotel, and everything else when we get home."  

"It's not quite that simple, Barbie.  I didn't drive all this way just to have you chicken out.  And remember, no one here knows you, and you have no money and no ID.  If you make a scene or try to run away, you might very well end up in Paddywell without me." Jenny crossed her legs at the ankle and smiled as she leaned farther back in her chair.  "This whole thing is about power, and you're not in a position to bargain. This ends when I say it ends."

Barbie knew her daughter was right, although she was surprised that Jenny had put the matter to her so boldly. Barbie was still trying to muster a response when Jenny relented. "However, I do think that you have learned your lesson, albeit not totally, and not to my complete and personal satisfaction. 

So I am willing to accept your forfeit offer, with the additional condition that you continue to play along with me until tomorrow night, instead of Sunday. That means you get off 24 hours early. And I want a NEW Mustang, not a used one. That's the deal."  

"Jenny, a new Mustang costs...." "I wonder if they'll have those little perfumed soaps in my room at Paddywell? Jenny mused.  "Of course, YOU'LL probably be washing in some big gang shower room with green industrial soap." "Deal," Barbie said, extending her hand. Mother and daughter quickly shook hands, and the new agreement was struck.  Barbie hated the thought of another morning under Jenny's thumb, but she knew her daughter was right. She really had no choice.

The door opened, and the doctor entered.  "I see here that we need a sports physical for Monroe High," he said.  "Sounds simple enough.  If you can just strip down to your underwear, we can get started...." He looked up from his clipboard long enough to glance at Barbie and then at Jenny.  He blinked.  "Mrs. Wilson, is that YOU?" "Um...yes, it is, Billy" Barbie said. "How are you?"

He looked at his chart, then back at Barbie, and then finally at Jenny. "Uh...what's going on? This paper here says you need a school physical.... Why are you two dressed that way?" Barbie couldn't believe the level of disaster.

They were more than 200 miles from home, and they stopped at a random Doc-in-a-Box, and they ran into someone they knew. Billy grew up three blocks from them and used to baby sit for Jenny when he was in high school.

But Jenny was more than up to the occasion.  She quickly explained the bet and recounted the events thus far.  Barbie squirmed on the white paper as Billy chuckled merrily at Jenny's "humorous" and articulate narrative. 

"And now I'd like her to see what it's like to get a physical when someone else is watching," Jenny finally said. "Can you help us out?" "Yeah, I suppose so," Billy said. "Actually, it might be fun. I kind of had a crush on your mom when I was in high school."  

Billy turned to Barbie and gave his first order.  "Why don't you just strip down to your underwear, Barbie, so we can get started? This shouldn't take long." Barbie bit her lip nervously.  When Billy had recognized her, she had thought her ordeal was over.

But now the little geek who used to baby sit for pocket change was actually going to EXAMINE her. She stared at him dumbly. "If you want to go back on our deal, I'm sure I can probably arrange to have you examined at Paddywell instead," Jenny observed.

Barbie hurriedly pulled her t-shirt over her head as Dr. Billy ran down the physical check list. "Do you have any allergies, muscle pain, back pain, fevers, or sores? "Fainting spells? "Are you in good physical health?

Have you been hospitalized for anything in the last 10 years? "Do you have any illness or infirmity that would prevent you from participating fully in an after-school sport?  Has anyone in your immediate family ever suffered from such an illness of infirmity?"

Dr. Billy looked up from his clipboard and smiled.  All was the same as before, except now his patient was sitting on the edge of the examination table wearing nothing but her training bra and childish panties. Jenny smiled too.

She knew her mom had gone to a female doctor for years, and it was high time that she had a chance to experience what it was like to be examined by a man. Although Billy was outwardly professional (as all male doctors always pretended to be), it was obvious to everyone in the room that his interest in Barbie was not entirely scientific.

Barbie's embarrassment eased somewhat as Billy took her temperature with an ear thermometer before taking her blood pressure and listening to her heart.  She felt a bit less comfortable when he ordered her onto the scale, particularly when he noted to Jenny, after measuring Barbie's height that she was "a bit small for her age." But she didn't begin to feel really uncomfortable until he ordered her to lie on her "tummy."  She tensed as he examined her foot and then slowly began massaging her calf.  

The thumping and squeezing were professional, but that was no consolation to her.  She was now lying on a table while a young man who looked scarcely older than her daughter slowly massaged and tapped her calves...her thighs...her bare back....  The fact that her daughter was watching the whole thing with a huge grin on her face only made matters worse.

When Dr. Billy ordered her to roll over so he could do her front, Barbie squeezed her thighs closely together, in the hope that her arousal wouldn't show. She lay helplessly as he massaged, poked, and probed her legs, hips, and stomach.

She was relieved when he told her she could sit up.  She kept her thighs clenched together as she swung her legs around, attempting to hide the wet stain on the front of her panties.

"You can get dressed now," Dr. Billy said.  "That's it." Barbie was already reaching for her jeans when Jenny spoke up. "Could you give her a breast exam, Doctor?  I know it seems silly, but I'd really like to be sure." "Well, that isn't really part of the school physical," Dr. Billy replied.  He paused and slowly looked Barbie up and down.  "But of course, seeing as how you're an old friend, I'd be happy to throw it in," he said with a smile.

"Just slip off your training bra, Barbie, and the doctor will give you a nice exam," Jenny said, sweetly.  "Anything we do today we won't have to do at Paddywell." The lightly veiled threat worked, and Barbie obediently shed her bra. She flushed beet red as Dr. Billy slowly and methodically squeezed her tiny breasts.  Jenny smiled.  As she had hoped, Billy was doing a VERY thorough job.

He smiled as Barbie's nipples became erect. "Are you sexually active, Barbie?" "Um...yes," she answered. "Yes...what?" "Yes...um...um...s-sir." "And do you use birth control?" "Yes, sir, a diaphragm and jelly." "That's not totally reliable.

How often do you have sex?" "Well, I've been married so long...only a few times a month; I mostly use a vibrator...s-sir...." Barbie had forgotten momentarily that Jenny was present.  Her voice trailed off, and she glanced at the girl sheepishly.  Jenny was now grinning from ear to ear.

"Do you suppose you could give her a quick internal exam, Doctor?" Jenny asked. "Sure...no extra charge," he replied, brightly.  "I don't about 'quick,' though.  These things really shouldn't be rushed...." "Well, you ARE the doctor, Doctor." Barbie felt dizzy as she watched the smiling young doctor slowly unfold the stirrups and snap them into place.  He spread them wide -- wider than she had ever seen foot stirrups placed.

She had hoped to keep her arousal a secret.  But now that would be impossible. She stood up, looking first at Billy and then at her grinning daughter.  After taking a deep breath, she slowly eased her panties down to her knees....

  ******************************

By the time they reached the hotel, Barbie's 14-karat embarrassed submissiveness had faded and was beginning to be replaced by outright annoyance.  In fact, the recollection of what her darling daughter had just done to her left her more than a little pissed. "Geez...what a dump," she said as they entered the lobby. "Does this place have a pool?" "Yes, a small one, in back," Fred Dobbs, the manager, said.  "But it's closed now."  

"THAT figures," Barbie said, sulking. "You don't have a suit anyway, dear," Jenny noted. "Who needs a stupid old suit!" Barbie said, in a huff.  "I can just skinny-dip."  Impulsively, she gave Fred a playful wink. Jenny shot her an angry look, well aware that her mother didn't know how to swim, and that she was, in fact, terrified of the water.  Clearly Barbie was simply using swimming as a way to jerk Jenny's chain.

"Don't worry, Mom," Barbie said.  "If we get kicked out of this fleabag you can just drive us home tonight.  It's a long drive, but I can sleep in the backseat." "We're not going to be kicked out," Jenny said, tightly.  

"And this is not a fleabag." "Do you have any movies?" Barbie said to the manager.  "I wanna movie." "We don't need movies," Jenny snapped.  She handed him her credit card.  "And I'd watch my mouth, young lady.  Remember that I promised you a discussion about your behavior...later?  Well, this is later. You still have a good spanking coming."

Fred smiled, and Barbie immediately fell silent.  She had forgotten about Jenny's promise to punish her for swearing at Mr. Peepers. She tried to tell herself that it was a bluff. After all, no matter how she was dressed, Barbara was still 38 years old. She was too old for a spanking. Wasn't she? Too old or not, the threat did its job, and Barbie remained silent for the rest of the check-in.

The smiling manager seemed to be tickled by the idea that the young woman who had insulted his hotel was about to be spanked. "This room is at the end of the hall," he said, handing Jenny the key. "There is no one else in that end of the hotel, so noise won't be a problem." He dropped his voice and whispered to Jenny in a conspiratorial manner, "If you want my opinion, when it comes to discipline, I think a THOROUGH approach is best."  

Barbie shot him an evil glare and stuck out her tongue as she followed Jenny to the elevator. As soon as they reached their large but bland and characterless room, Jenny went into the bathroom and unwrapped a bar of soap, which she placed on a small table, next to the TV.

Then she reached into her purse and extracted an old Turkish slipper -- THE slipper...the one she herself had always been spanked with. Barbie swallowed as soon as the slipper came into view.  

"Your sudden interest in swimming gave me an idea," Jenny said. "I'm going to leave you here for a few minutes.  I want you to do nothing until I get back. That means no phone calls, no TV, and, above all, no leaving the room.

When I return, I'm going to use this soap to wash your mouth out, for the language you used in front of Mr. Peepers. Then I'm going punish you for being rude to that nice old lady in the store, for being rude to the hotel manager, and for being rude to me.

The punishment is going to be with my hand and with this slipper, and it is going to be on your bare bottom.  Afterwards you will stand in the corner until I decide that you've had enough. Questions?" Barbie said nothing, but simply stared at her shoes. "Good," Jenny said, as she headed for the door.  "I'll be back soon.  I want you to spend the time thinking about your offenses."

As soon as Jenny slammed the door, Barbie crossed over to the table and picked up the slipper.  She had gotten it as a decorator item years ago -- cheap, because there was only one. Later, it had come in handy as an instrument of correction.  She knew that it certainly elicited tearful contrition from her daughter, but she had never bothered to find out exactly why.

But she was about to learn. It seemed heavier than she remembered. She tried to bend it, but the smooth sole wasn't very flexible. Camel hide, she imagined, or maybe goat.  The top was somewhat faded, but still ornate, embroidered with silk thread and gold in elaborate, floral arabesques.  It was at least a century old and would still be in good shape a hundred years into the future.    

"Damned old world craftsmanship," she thought, ruefully, as she tapped the slipper against her palm. She experimentally swung the slipper through the air and brought it down sharply on her palm. WHAP! "OWW!" she winced.  

She dropped the slipper and immediately put her scalded palm under her arm. That HURT!  Really HURT! She put the slipper back on the table and picked up the soap. She pondered how Jenny would do it.  

Would she stick the whole bar in her mouth?  Would she use a washcloth to create a lather? Would she scrape it and put the flakes in her mouth? Barbie used her fingernail to scrape a bit of the soap off the bar and put it on her tongue.

But she tasted nothing. She put her finger on her tongue and rubbed it back and forth until her finger began to glide easily back and forth over her tongue's rough surface.

The gag reflex followed almost immediately, and soon she was on her knees attempting to spit the lather out into the trash can. As she rinsed her mouth out in the bathroom, she envisioned herself over Jenny's knee with a bar of soap in her mouth, gagging as her daughter tanned her bottom with the slipper. One thing was for sure.  However Jenny decided to use the soap, it wasn't going to taste very good.

Barbie picked the bar of soap up off the rug and put it back on the table.  "This is just what she wants me to do," she thought. "That's why she left the soap and the slipper out.  She wants me to stare at them, and imagine the punishment, and drive myself crazy until she gets back.  She's trying to torture me, and I'm letting her." 

Barbie decided her time would be better spent trying to figure out an exit strategy.  The first step was to understand her situation and find any weaknesses in her enemies.  Knowledge was her friend.

She took the school uniform blazer out of the bag.  It was, without doubt, the scariest Halloween costume she had ever seen, but she tried to look at it objectively. She examined the crest on the jacket: Castigo Acerbe Castigo Nudos What did it mean?  She looked at the TV...and then at the PC across the room.  

Jenny had told her not to watch TV, but she didn't say not to look stuff up on the Internet.  She found a keyboard in the desk drawer and quickly logged onto the system. It took her only a minute to find a Latin-English dictionary.  The translation, while insightful, did little to ease her already troubled mind: Castigo: Chastise Acerbe: Harshly Nudos: Naked So the school's motto was depressingly clear.

She was about to do a search on Paddywell Academy when the hotel room door opened. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jenny said.  "I told you no TV!" "I wasn't watching TV," Barbie said.  "I was on the Internet." "You KNOW what I meant!" Jenny shouted.  "I told you to do nothing until I returned, and when I come back you're on the Internet. How much did that cost, anyway?”

"Um...$9...." "After I tan your fanny, I'm going to march you down to see the hotel manager," Jenny said.  You're going to explain to him that you used the Internet without permission, and you're going to tell him exactly -- and I mean EXACTLY -- how I punished you.  And then you're going to ask him to take this charge off my bill." "I'll pay for it," Barbie said, weakly. "You certainly will, young lady," Jenny said, as she picked up the slipper.  

She pulled the chair away from the table and beckoned Barbie forward.  "Since you're so interested in swimming, young lady, you'll be pleased to know that there is a YWCA across the street." "I...um...don't know how to swim," Barbie admitted. 

"That's why I arranged a swimming lesson for you tomorrow morning." "But I don't have a suit." "You won't need one. There is a women-only pool where suits are optional.  Of course, we will have to shave off your peach fuzz. That way you'll fit in with the other little girls who are learning to swim."

"I don't want to go in the water!" Barbie cried, desperately. "Since this is your first lesson, you'll mostly just stand by the pool and practice arm and leg movements. Don't worry -- there is a special glassed-in lounge area where I can sit with the other moms and drink Starbucks while I watch you do your exercises." Barbie swallowed.

The thought of prancing around the pool shaved and naked for Jenny's amusement was not a pleasant one. She stared nervously at the slipper as Jenny undid the snap of her shorts and began pulling down the zipper. The YWCA would be awful, but, right now, Barbie had bigger problems.

[cute little kokiri girl]

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....