Daria Little, The Garage part II


This is a fictional story that involves spanking and children.  Please do not
read if that is not of interest to you or you are under eighteen. This is
written for fun and is not in any way an endorsement of abuse towards children.

Some stories seem to work for me, I enjoy writing them and look forward to the
next in the series but they just flop with the readers. I fear this series has
fallen into that category. I expected this would be a six or seven story
series. I was working on several of the stories at the same time, however
judging by the lack of feedback from the first one I’m going to wrap it up more
quickly and pull the partial segments into one last story. If the story seems a
bit disjointed, I apologize. I wanted to get some scenes in I had done with out
wasting too much time on re writing a dud.  It will be obvious to some of my
regular readers where I might have gone with some of the possibilities.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


				The Garage Part II


We lived in two worlds. One of these worlds was controlled by adults and their
rules. Our other world, our secret world  was the ‘garage’ and the wonderful
playhouse, far from the adult world. There, secreted away from parents we were
free to let our imaginations run wild and play games that we would never play
outside. There was something tantalizingly naughty and delicious in our
spanking games. The taste of forbidden fruit was too tempting to ignore. And
truth be known, we didn’t really try. 

When I was nine years old my Uncle Bill had given me a doll and a set of
panties for my birthday. There were seven in all, one for each day of the week.
I was embarrassed to be receiving panties and having to open them in front of
everyone.  I picked up the pink ones marked ‘Tuesday’ Everyone insisted on a
closer look. I bashfully held them up for everyone to see. “Turn them around.”
Uncle Bill said with a chuckle. Not sure why he would want me to do such a
thing I did so, horrified to see in bold letters on the fanny of the panties.
‘Spank Here’. Everyone got a laugh from that and several suggestions were
passed around related to a birthday spanking. It seemed to me that these would
have been more appropriate for a younger kid, none the less I was stuck with
them.

It’s not quite accurate to say I was horrified. I was embarrassed, but my
secret interest in spanking was a maximum level right then. I quickly put them
aside hoping no one would pay them any more attention. The other side of me
wanted to put a pair on and see if any one would take the invitation. As soon
as I could, I took my presents and carted them off to my bedroom. I arranged my
new dolls, assigning them a proper place in my collection along the window
sill. Then I picked up my new panties, I thrilled to the words on the back.
“Spank Here’ across the backside. It seemed so naughty and daring. I reached
under my party dress and slipped off my panties and pulled on the pink Tuesday
pair that had been held up earlier. They fit loose, a size or two too large,
but they would do.

I heard my name called and realized that as the party girl I would have to come
back out. I pulled out a light blue pair and noticed something different on the
back side. “Paddle Here” was proudly on the back side. “Sally” Mom called
again. I put down the blue panties and went into the living room wondering what
the others might say.  I also didn’t want to come out because I knew my
behavior had been terrible. I was rude and talking back all day long. It was
clear that I made most of the adults and some of the kids mad at me. I hadn’t
meant to, it just sort of happened that way. I was feeling more than a little
guilty.

Birthday spankings were a custom in my family. They were always different. Last
year I had to go from adult to adult and get one spank from each. Having to lay
across their lap, get my spank and then get up and go to the next and so on.
That was most unsatisfactory. The year before Uncle Bill had given me my
birthday spanking. It was the usual number of one for every year and one to
grow on, though he made it two to grow on. They hadn’t been real hard though
the last few swats stung through my jeans just a little. It was understood that
as we got older the spankings would be applied with more energy each year. The
thought crossed my mind that maybe I shouldn’t have worn a dress this year. 

Uncle Bill was my Mother’s brother and a trusted member of the family, he
sometimes sat for us kids when Mom and dad were away. We had given him
sufficient reason on numerous occasions to apply correction to our fannies. He
had never failed to do his duty when it came time to ensure we were properly
disciplined. As I entered the room Dad looked over at Uncle Bill. “Bet she
did.”  I looked quizzically at them knowing I was the topic of conversation.
“Awww, I doubt it.” Uncle Bill replied. He continued amused. “If she did she
should get double.” Dad smiled. “Does that sound fair pumpkin?” He asked me.
“Yeah, sure what ever.” I retorted not having a clue to what I was agreeing to
and with a bit more attitude than I intended.

“Come here Sally, it’s time for your birthday spanking.” Uncle Bill announced.
Patting his lap suggestively. I could feel my self blush as all eyes and
attention turned to me. I rubbed my suddenly damp hands on my party dress and
nervously and blurted out that I was too old for a birthday spanking.
“Nonsense” My Mother replied closing my arguments. I made my way across the
room to Uncle Bill. I was both embarrassed and thrilled to be the center of
attention. 

He picked me up and pulled me across his lap with ease.  I felt my dress go up
and then everyone started laughing. It was then I remembered that I had on a
pair of the SPANK HERE panties. My hair fell over my eyes mercifully keeping me
from seeing everyone who was enjoying the show. I was mortified and I had
brought it on myself.  “She has them on, you were right.” Uncle Bill announced
to my Dad. “Then she gets double, be more careful and maybe a little less smart
mouth next time, I would guess.” Dad responded.  Uncle Bill spoke. “Let’s see
here, now.  You’re nine years old. You are nine aren’t you? He asked stretching
out the proceedings. I didn’t respond. A pat on my fanny with his hand and he
asked again. “You’re nine is that right or maybe I’m wrong maybe you’re much
older.” “No, no I’m nine I replied weakly not wanting him to choose a higher
number. “Very good, now let’s see, nine and one to grow on, doubled, why that
sounds like twenty spanks.  “ooooo” I whispered to myself.”

I could feel the air on my legs and feel the loose panties on my legs and
prayed that like so many of Uncle Bill’s spankings he wouldn’t pull them down.
That would be more than I could bear. I winced as the first swat smacked
against my bottom. It wasn’t hard, but it meant the spanking was underway. I
heard a giggle from some of my friends as they took in the show.

swat

spank

slap		I could feel the sting now, just a small amount of heat on my
bottom.

Spank		I winced at the slightly harder swat

SMACK	“That one hurt.”  I thought, giving out a slight.  “oooo”

SWAT		“OUCH” I yelped, then gritted my teeth, determined to be brave.

SMACK

SLAP		The force of the spanks was hard. I knew from personal
experience he 			could spank harder if need be, still these were
hard and hurt.


SPANK
SPANK
SPANK	Three quick stingers got my attention.  “OUCH,OUCH,OUCH.
		I yelped, my bravery quickly discarded.

SPANK

SWAT

SPANK	I could feel the tears tracing down my cheeks.  My fanny was fully on
fire.

SPANK	My earlier behavior came back to me and I realized I was paying for
that as 		well as getting a Birthday spanking.


SPANK	Uncle Bill repeated his flurry of three.
SPANK	“OUCH, OUCH,OUCH.”
SPANK

SMACK	Two very hard spanks concluded the spanking.
SMACK

I was allowed off his lap and ran to my room.  Half an hour later I had
composed myself and hearing the games going on, I couldn’t help my self. I
shyly made my way from my room and rejoined the party. No mention of the
spanking was made. Soon I was playing as if nothing had happened. Though I knew
better and was sure to be polite and courteous to everyone for the rest of the
day.

A few hours later the party had pretty much ended, all the kids had left, my
Dad was driving a few more home. Susie and Mom were the only two left. Susie
and I played on my bed with some of my new toys. Susie got up and closed the
bedroom door. “Can I see?” she asked. “See what.” “You’re tush. Is it sore?” 
“It’s sore.” I responded with a playful grimace and a hand under my dress
rubbing my bottom. At some urging I rolled over on my stomach and lowered my
panties. “It’s red.” Susie said confirming the obvious. “Those are really neat
panties, I love em.”  We resolved that as soon as we could she would get a
chance to wear a pair and I would give her a birthday spanking. From that day
on we each got two birthday spankings, one at the adult arranged party and then
another later among us kids. The last one was more fun.

The set had became my favorite panties when ever my thoughts turned to playing
and spanking.  Sometimes as luck would have it, I got a number of real
spankings on the seat of those panties. One time I came back late from playing
after four straight days of returning late and being properly warned each time.
I came into the dinning room where my parents, both my sisters and my brother
were eating. “Sorry I’m late.” I offered making for my chair. Dad pushed back
his chair and placed his hand on my arm as I passed. I was whisked across his
lap and up went my play dress. I heard him chuckle as he viewed direct evidence
that it was Wednesday. “Just follow the instructions.” He muttered to no one in
particular. He freely applied his hand to the spank here directions and as far
as I could tell missed nothing. Two minutes later I was sitting at the table
still promising to be on time in the future while using my napkin to wipe away
tears.

They now had an honored place in our playhouse secreted away in the back of one
of the drawers of the old end table. They were tight fitting now and well worn
from slightly over two years of existence. They would still fit all three of us
and sometimes when we played we would each put on a pair and act surprised when
we read what was on the backside of the other’s panties. They were tight on
Susie and me, less so on Judy who was a year younger. They made Susie’s bottom
seem compressed and ready to burst free. Her bottom cheeks were quite visible
through the worn fabric. She said the same about me.



The ‘house’ as we called it had almost everything our hearts could desire . The
one thing we didn’t have and wanted desperately was a small refrigerator. There
was one over the yellow line, but that was forbidden territory. Ah, the yellow
line I haven’t mentioned that yet have I? There was a painted line separating
the garage. We were to stay on our side of the line always. The stated penalty
for trespassing was as Judy’s Dad had put it. “A belt applied to any young
ladies bare bottom who crossed the line.” Since he had said this in front
Susie’s Dad and my Dad as the were looking at the old Chevy he was fixing up,
we suspected he meant business. Both of the visiting Dads seemed to nod their
agreement that this would be fair punishment for any young lady foolish enough
to cross the yellow line. We had no doubt Judy’s Dad would apply the penalty
with out any hesitation to any of us. In some ways, that made things more
interesting. 

The problem was, there were temptations across that line. The garage was
paneled and fixed up beyond what I had come to expect from garages. There were
strips of Carpet on the floor by the work bench. Everything was so neat and
well kept and best of all the adults almost never came there. There were
curtains over the windows that we sometimes closed to gain even more privacy.
But across the line was a small refrigerator, a TV a stack of magazines that we
had been double warned not to go near.  And the stacks and stacks of bottles of
Root Beer in cases,  I would have sold my little soul to get ownership of those
bottles. And to top it off we knew there was the most forbidden fruit of all in
the top drawer, just under the big saw. Cigarettes, just a pack or two but we
knew they were there and we wanted them. Still there was the matter of the
yellow line.

This wasn’t to say we were perfect. Sometimes we would swipe a Root Beer from
the refrigerator if we were feeling brave and we knew there were enough there
so one or two   wouldn’t be missed. But the other things? We knew better. We
did know better. But sometimes things just sort of happen.  I mean what fun
would it be if you were good all of the time?

One day through a quirk of fate I was alone in the playhouse with Jeff.  Judy
and her family were out of town for the weekend. Jeff and I had sneaked in by
one of the windows which we purposefully left open just a bit. This was of
course forbidden but such was our eagerness to have access to our secret world.

Jeff was the only boy we trusted to play spanking games with. He preferred to
be the spanker, though to be fair sometimes he would allow himself to be
spanked. He wasn’t all that much fun to spank so we usually invited him when we
needed a ‘Daddy’ figure for a game or scene we might have in mind. He seemed to
like the role of spanking us girls just fine.

“ I saw you, you know.” He started as we settled into the playhouse, after
ensuring all the doors were closed and locked. I looked back at him puzzled.
“Saw what?” I asked both curious and concerned by his tone that seemed somehow
different. “At the store yesterday. Remember?”  I nodded, I had seen him at the
drug store with his Mother. “So what?” I responded. “I saw what you took.” My
blood ran cold, hidden away was a stick of lipstick in the playhouse unopened
that I had wanted and was forbidden to me. As soon as I had it out of the store
I realized how foolish I had been, I mean I could never use it, what was the
point? It was now secreted away in a hiding place a few feet from where I sat.
My eyes guiltily glanced in that direction. I had felt crummy about the whole
thing for days.

“I’m going to tell.” He said in superior tone. I could feel the panic rise in
me. My Dad would have my tail for that and I would no doubt be restricted for
the rest of my life. Mom would be crushed to learn her little girl was a
shoplifter. This was terrible. “Jeff, you can’t do that, we’re friends.” I
protested. “Got to” He answered. “My Mom says that stealing is wrong and has to
be punished.”  “Damn, He’s such a momma’s boy sometimes.” I thought to myself.

We argued for a few minutes to no avail, he wasn’t to be swayed, he was
determined.  “stealing is wrong and has to be punished.” He repeated. “Look,
Jeff, I know stealing is wrong and I’m real sorry I did it, but my parents
can’t find out about this. This isn’t a good time, we’re going to the fair
tomorrow and if they find out I won’t get to go.” I didn’t have to add what
else would happen, we both knew I’d likely wind up across my Dad’s lap getting
my bare bottom warmed. I wondered if he’d use the belt. I shuddered as the
thought crossed my mind.
 
I could feel a tear of frustration form in one eye as he talked and I pleaded.
Finally my defensives collapsed from guilt and the shame of what I had done. “I
just can’t let my parents know.” I cried. He sat next to me on the bean bag. He
put his arm gently around me as I put my hands over my face. I suppose I could
have been mad at him, but such was my guilt that I was only mad at myself. 

“There is one way your parents don’t have to know.” He offered. I looked up
hopefully.  “I’ll punish you. Then no one else has to know anything.” I thought
this over for a second and decided that to keep my parents from finding out
would be worth anything. “Ok.”  He smiled. I felt a knot form in my stomach. I
was going to get spanked, hard and I knew it, and there was nothing I could do
about it.

“I get to punish you any way I see fit.” Jeff said making sure I understood his
rules. “Ok.” I responded. “What ever I say goes, no arguments.” He said making
sure I agreed. What choice did I have? I had to agree. “I agree. I’ll do what
ever you say.” He had me and we both knew it. This would be the first time Jeff
was totally in control. Every other time when we had played we girls always had
him out numbered and were pretty much in control, he was a guest and always
wanted to be invited back. This time, we were alone and the rules were his.

After a seconds hesitation and seeming a little unsure what to do next Jeff
asserted his superiority with a firm. “Take down your jeans.” No surprise
there, I had fully expected that and more. I undid the top button and slowly
slid my jeans to my knees and then bending over to my ankles. I stood up. “All
the way off.” I stepped out of my jeans, picked them up and folded them neatly
as I had been taught before placing them on the small table. “Now the panties”
I blushed.  When it was a game and my friends were there, it was different. To
be ordered by a boy to strip and have no choice was bewildering. I took a deep
breath and quickly slid down my panties and placed them on top of my jeans. 

“Get the paddle.” He ordered. I turned, opened the drawer and retrieved one of
the paddles. I held it out to him, not having the nerve to look him in the eye
and see the smile that I knew would be on his face.  He took the paddle from me
and almost tauntingly slapped it against the palm of his hand. I shuddered at
the thought of getting a real disciplinary spanking from Jeffrey.

I didn’t have a choice, so I tried to put from my mind who would be spanking me
and endeavored to put Uncle Bill mentally in his place. I knew that I would
never resist or try to evade uncle Bill. I hoped that would make this easier to
take.

It was about then I realized that I felt guiltily about my theft since I walked
out the door with my ill gotten gains. A feeling of  relief washed over me. I
was going to be punished for my crime and to me that meant exoneration and no
more guilt. I had a sudden revelation that I wanted this spanking. I would
relieved of my guilt and my parents wouldn’t have to share in my shame. I also
knew that it would take more than a few play pats to wash away my guiltiness.

“Come here.”  Jeff said not unkindly. He had sat down on a small straight back
chair and was holding the paddle in his right hand. I shuffled over to his side
and flopped across his lap. I could feel the coarseness of his jeans on my bare
legs. My arms almost touched the floor at my elbows. My legs stretched out the
other way on the floor. This was far different from an adult administered
spanking that usually found me suspended in mid air.  The low chair and smaller
lap I was across made a dramatic difference.  

I lap across his lap, my eyes closed tight . I gave a silent curse to the
lipstick that I never had any use for. “What an idiot I am.” I thought.

Jeff popped the paddle on my fanny. It stung, but no way was I going to be a
baby about this spanking. I had earned it, and by golly I was as determined or
more so than Jeff that I would get one sound paddling.   SMACK, SWAT, SPANK,
SLAP  No warming up for this kid, he got right into the hard spanks with out
delay.  SLAP, SMACK, SPANK, WHACK, SPLAT. The paddle brought sharp snaps of
pain with each landing. I grabbed his legs and held tightly determined to take
my punishment.

SLAP, SWAT,  “iiiiiii”  SMACK  SWAT   I wiggled and tightened my fanny then
loosened it.   SLAP, SMACK, SPANK.   Crying freely I made small noises, gasped
for breath but was still determined to not ask for him to stop.  I had to earn
my pardon.

SMACK, SLAP, SWAT, SPANK.  “oooooooo’  “ooooooOOO”  I whimpered.   He stopped
the spanking.  I made no effort to get up, which was different than normal.
Usually when the spanker stops the spankee bounces up as quickly as possible.

“Do you deserve more?” He asked softly as if sensing what was going on in my
head.  I nodded my head vigorously crying freely and barely managed to squeak
out a “Yes, I do.” 

SMACK, SWAT, SLAP, SPANK,  “oooouuuccchhh”  SPANK  “OOO”   SLAP  “iiieeee”

SPLAT,  “sssssoooooorryy”   SMACK    My legs were kicking wildly and I could
not stop them. With each swat they flew in different directions.   “SMACK,
SPLAT, SPANK, SWAT.

SPANK, SLAP, SWAT, “oooowwwwwww”  SPANK,  “ooouuucccchhh”   SLAP  “ooooOO”   
SWAT,  SPANK,  SLAP.  “ooooooeeeeeee”

The just as I could stand no more, Jeffrey sensing it was time stopped the
paddling and gently helped me off his lap. He pulled out some tissues and
helped clean up the crying blubbering mess I had become. His kindness and
gentle way was a pleasant surprise.

Later I skipped home, hoping my red eyes wouldn’t give me away. I had a well
spanked bottom and a sense of relief that the whole matter was closed that made
me giddy with joy. The world had been lifted from my shoulders.

The end