First Assignment [F/f]
(c) 2007 by Grace Brackenridge
[500 words]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This story blends fact and fiction. The author
strongly opposes the spanking of real children in real
life.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Grace, do me a favor?" asked Mrs. Kaplan.
I sat next to her on the park bench, keeping her company while Mom took Sis to the orthodontist.
Her boy, Ricky, 7, kicked a soccer ball around -- not far from the street -- with about a dozen other kids. The other moms gossiped on benches nearby.
"Sure," I replied. "Whatever."
"It's somewhat embarrassing. Uncomfortable."
"Gosh," I paused. "Must be important, I guess..."
"Very important," she said, pointing. "Go kick that ball out into the street. Then fetch it, but beware of cars."
"Sure. But why?"
"Later!" she smiled cryptically. "Another thing. When I yell stop, just ignore me."
"Why?"
"You want to be my babysitter, don't you?"
At 13, I coveted the opportunity, since Mrs. Kaplan paid well.
I nodded.
"Okay," said Mrs. Kaplan, digging through her huge purse, "go kick that ball."
"Hey kids!" I hollered. "Can I play?"
"Sure!" said Ricky, who had a big "crush" on me.
Checking for cars first, I gave the ball a solid kick.
The ball zoomed across the sidewalk and into the street.
"No worries!" I exclaimed gaily. "I'll get it."
As I dashed toward the street, Mrs. Kaplan shouted, "Grace, no! Stay out of the street!"
As per instructions, I ignored her.
Returning with the ball, Mrs. Kaplan approached me, hairbrush in hand.
That's what she wanted from her purse.
I knew that hairbrush from years past, when I was Ricky's age and Mrs. Kaplan was MY sitter.
"Mrs. Kaplan?" I asked plaintively, tossing the ball to the kids while they all stared at the unfolding drama.
Reaching me, she directed, "Bend over."
"But..."
"THIS is the favor," she whispered, stepping close. "Cooperate."
So I bent over.
She wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me snug against her hip.
I should count my blessings. Mrs. Kaplan let me keep my shorts and panties on. Past experiences taught me she always spanks bare.
I hadn't been spanked in four years. But childish ways quickly eclipsed teen pride.
I cried.
In my defense, she spanked super extra hard.
Taking my arm, she marched me weeping over to the kids. "NEVER chase a ball into the street. If you do, this is what happens. Questions?"
The kids shook their heads vigorously.
"Come, Grace," she said, putting her arm around my shoulders.
The kids went back to playing -- cautiously -- with their ball.
At the bench, Mrs. Kaplan returned the brush to her purse and retrieved a five dollar bill.
Handing me the money, she said, "Consider that your first babysitting assignment. Part of sitting is keeping children safe. Thanks for giving Ricky a memorable safety lesson."
She smiled; I looked up.
"Sorry I couldn't warn you," she added. "I wanted everything extra realistic."
I tried not to frown.
"Can't give spanking privileges to a sitter who won't take one," she smiled.
My bottom throbbed and I felt tricked.
But I'd been spanked lots before. Nobody ever gave me $5 for my trouble.
"Thanks, Mrs. Kaplan."