THE WATCHER (PHOTO: THE CHAIR) (M/F)

The apartment across the alley had been vacant for months.

So naturally when I saw the lone white chair sitting in the window I
was intrigued.

My interest turned to fascination when later that night the man in the
outrageously bogus Pirate costume dragged the woman in the beautiful
red ball gown over his knee.

I watched transfixed as one skirt after another was raised.

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

The next night I watched as the same man, now dressed in riding
breeches, teach the same woman, now dressed as a French maid, the
importance of proper dusting.

The woman looked at me in horror as her ruffled panties were lowered to
her knees....

The next night I watched a pretty uniformed police officer ambushed by
a "burglar".

He took away her "gun", turned on the radio, and ordered the mortified
patrolwoman to dance...

I sipped Champaign as I watched the furiously blushing "policewoman"
reluctantly stripped for our amusement.

She looked pleadingly at me as the "criminal" cuffed her with her own
cuffs, and teasingly ran her own leather police belt over her bare
fanny.

I smiled at her, and raised my Champaign glass in salute.

It was like that every night for a month.

Boss and secretary.

Housewife and repairman.

Arab Shiek and captive princess.

The woman usually got there first.

I would show up early to torment her.

The pretty cheerleader or naughty nurse would glare at me as I sat on
my comfy sofa and sipped my sparkling white wine.

Occasionally I would stand up, rub my fanny, and wince in mock sympathy
before bursting into laughter.

Now and then I would imitate the humiliating little "spanking dances"
she did before falling back onto my comfy couch in spasms of laughter.

The more humiliating her punishment, the more I enjoyed it.

I don't think she liked me.

One night she put up curtains!

Darn!

But the Roman slave trader quickly ripped them down.  The mortified
slave girl was put through her paces naked.

And I got to watch.

The box outside my apartment door was addressed to THE GIRL ACROSS THE
ALLEY.  When I opened it I found this note:

MRS. JOHNSON SAYS YOU'VE BEEN PEEPING IN HER WINDOW AGAIN.  PUT ON YOUR
JAMMIES.  I'LL DEAL WITH YOU WHEN I GET HOME, YOUNG LADY!

UNCLE STEVE

The pajamas in the box had little bears on them.  And the childish
white underpants had little bunnies.

I looked across the alley at the woman, who was now wearing the same
sort of crisp business clothes I always wore.

As I began to nervously unbutton my blouse, the grinning woman leaned
back in her white chair, took another sip of her chilled white whine,
and raised her glass in salute...