Mystery Switching [F/f]

(c) 2007 by Grace Brackenridge
[498 words]

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This story blends fact and fiction. The author strongly opposes the spanking of real children in real life.
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"Run!"

Rusty, Scott, and Jenny dashed past me down the sidewalk.

My book bag over my shoulder, I turned to face their retreating backs. "Run? Why?"

But all I heard back was the slap of their soles against the sidewalk.

"Grace Brackenridge! Stop! Right there!"

I turned around to see Mrs. Blunderbuss, the eccentric widow, charging down the sidewalk toward me, gasping.

I froze.

Mom hired Mrs. Blunderbuss to baby-sit me once. Mom always gives sitters permission to spank me "as a last resort." When my parents returned, Mrs. Blunderbuss told them she gave me a "get acquainted" spanking right after they left and put me to bed. Mom never hired her again.

Mrs. Blunderbuss ran toward me, bowlegged, her limbs like Easter hams and her flip-flops loudly smacking the sidewalk.

I couldn't move.

Once grownups spank you, they always retain some dark power. Jenny's mom has that same power over me, ever since the sleepover.

A tall, heavyset woman, Mrs. Blunderbuss wore a green floral moo-moo, a tent of a dress that came to her knees. Prematurely gray, her hair was a curly unkempt mass framing her round face, beet red from the exertion of pursuit.

When she reached me, Mrs. Blunderbuss grasped both of my shoulders and gave me a vigorous shaking.

I bit my tongue.

"I shan't catch the rest," she declared as I swallowed the bitter-tasting, iron-flavored liquid from my wound, "but I've caught you."

"But Mrs. Blunder..."

Smack!

Her slap caught me by surprise.

Mrs. Blunderbuss grabbed me behind the head by my ponytail.

"Please Mrs. Blunder..."

"Not a word, Grace!" she said, jerking me up on tiptoes.

-- -- -- -- --

Mrs. Blunderbuss used pruning shears to snip a long, swishy branch from the bush in her backyard.

Stripping away leaves and twigs, she pressed the switch against the end of her fat thumb.

Switch and thumb were of equal diameter.

"Rule of thumb," she smiled. "For your protection, child."

I wept softly as I took off my plaid skirt, shoes, and socks. At least she let me keep on my white blouse.

"Embrace this old fella like he's your last friend in the world," she said, taking me over to an ancient oak.

My arms barely reached halfway around the trunk. I pressed my face against the coarse bark as Mrs. Blunderbuss removed my panties.

The whipping was awful.

In the middle, I peed, urine trickling down the tree trunk.

Mrs. Blunderbuss ordered me to cling to the oak till I composed myself.

"Get dressed," she said finally, handing me my panties.

Once I was fully attired, Mrs. Blunderbuss said smugly. "Hope you learned your lesson, child."

"What lesson?" I demanded angrily, snatching up my book bag. "I didn't do anything. It was Rusty, Scott, and Jenny. You never even told me what they did."

With a toss of my ponytail, I turned to leave.

Thwack!

The switch cut the back of my calves.

"Go home, Grace!" she yelled at my back. "Run!"

Great use of the first and last format, which is not the easiest of the formats to use. The switching was everything it should have been, painful, hot and humiliating. The writing was superb, the characters well-drawn and the dialogue and scene realistic. I liked this a lot.

This story was, as typical of the author, very well written, complete, and with a satisfying story arc. Atmosphere and setting were established with a minimal application of words. The switching was ruthlessly violent and frightening, which will, no doubt, lend fantasy fodder to those lusty souls who yearn to be chased by wicked, branch wielding older women in flip-flops.

This story works and works well. It doesn't feel hurried nor like detail was cut to somehow fit within the contest limits. I could hear the children's voices shouting "Run," the line itself working seamlessly to inspire the story.

The story contains one of the best quotes I've read -- one that gave me chills and evoked childhood memories: "Once grownups spank you, they always retain some dark power."

That and the injustice of the punishment (so much more important than the offense itself, whatever it might have been, The end twist, which sometimes can feel like a tired "aha!" in other stories, adds a final sad note to the unfairness.

A final note: the story also contains one of the best quotes I've read -- one that gave me chills and evoked childhood memories: "Once grownups spank you, they always retain some dark power."

Haunting.

Well the title is certainly fitting. It sure was a mystery to me. It sure wasn't nice what her friends did to her. But good use of the first and last line. It was a fun story!