This is a story. It never happened and never will. The General Disclaimer is incorporated herein by reference.

BR&T date: Sunday, 7 September 1997

At first I wondered what I should do. Then I realised there was little point in wondering, since I couldn't do anything anyway. I lay there, face down, on the lower bunk of my bed. My wrists were securely bound to the headboard by a thin black leather belt from the red velvet skirt in my closet. My legs were stretched wide, held in place because my ankles were tied to the side rails of my bed by straps taken from my chore clothes. I couldn't move my arms or my legs. I could barely wiggle, let alone reach down with my hand and untie my ankles. Even if my hands had been free, I doubted I could have reached my ankles to untie them. The belt around my wrists gripped tightly enough to keep me from turning them, and there was no hope of loosening the knot or of pulling the belt off of the rod of the bedframe that held the other end. I could only pull on it in one direction, and it was already stretched as tightly as possible in that direction. Darren and Rusty had seen to that in the same action that had left me so embarrassingly exposed.

My only clothing was a sheer pink silk nightgown decorated with bunnies, and my white silk panties. The nightgown, which had never covered much of my legs to begin with, was selected for comfort on a hot night when nobody would see me, not for modesty in front of two boys, my neighbors a few years older than I was. It had slid up to my neck in front when the boys had pulled me toward the foot of the bed. At the same time, it had bunched up at the middle of my back, completely revealing my panties with a bright red "I'm a Little Devil" message across my bottom.

'In ten minutes,' I thought, 'the boys are going to spank me!'

That was the rule, they said, for playing Tie-Up. They hadn't told me the rule before I agreed to play, but that didn't help me any. They'd gone off to get something better to tie me up with, they'd said. As if they needed to tie me any better than I already was.

What should I do? What could I do? What did I want to do? It seemed that the rules of 'Tie-Up' meant they wouldn't spank me if I got untied, but there wasn't much hope of that. My feeble pulling on the belt and the straps while the boys were watching had convinced me of that fact. And I wasn't sure I wanted to escape, and not get spanked, even if it had been easy. At last I decided that I wanted them to spank me, so I could find out what it was like to be spanked. The moment I made that decision, I giggled, because it didn't matter in the slightest.

'No matter what I want, those boys are going to spank me!!'

How long did I have left, eight minutes? Six minutes? I wondered what the rules of Tie-Up allowed them to do. What would they spank me with? A paddle, maybe. That's what I'd heard other kids were spanked with. Or maybe a belt, I'd heard of that, too. I tried to think of any other things that were used for spanking, that Darren or Rusty might have, and might want to use to spank me. Would they spank with a wooden plank, or a tractor crank, or a water tank? I giggled for a moment, out of sheer nervousness.

'How hard will they spank me?' I wondered. 'How much will it hurt?'

Of course it would depend on what they used, too, but I wondered if they would spank me as hard as they could, or not. And how hard could they spank, anyway? Darren was older, and much bigger, and I knew boys were stronger. He was in eighth grade, and had big muscles from working on a farm. He could probably spank me awfully hard. I imagined the paddle in his hands hitting my bottom. I could feel the sting of him spanking me, before he even got back. The sensation made me squirm in my bonds.

His brother Rusty was in my class in school, going into Mrs. Grissom's third grade starting tomorrow. But he was a boy, and a year older than I was, and he worked on the farm too, so he was also big and strong. I guessed he could probably spank me plenty hard if he wanted, no matter what he used. Did I really want to get spanked hard by two big strong boys? I knew I had only a few minutes left to get away, five at the most. Still, I decided I wanted to find out what a spanking was like. Not that it mattered. I was there until they let me go, and I knew it. I was going to get it, and they were going to give it to me.

'How many times are they going to spank me?' I suddenly wondered.

Did the rules say when they had to stop? They hadn't mentioned any rule about that. What if the rules didn't say they ever had to stop? Then I wondered if there really were any rules, or if Darren had made up the first one he'd told me just so he could tie me up, and the second one just so he could spank me. If so, he could make up any rule he wanted about when to stop. And what if there was a rule, but they didn't care what the rules were, now that I was tied up?

'They're going to spank me for as long as they want!' I trembled inside.

Maybe I should try to escape after all, I thought. How long until they got back, four more minutes? Only two? I pulled at the belt wrapped on my wrists and was immedately reminded that it didn't matter at all what I decided, I was going to get whapped on my bottom no matter what I did.

I wondered why they wanted to spank me. I hadn't done anything, so that wasn't it. Last spring, a girl at school had told me that boys were mean to girls on purpose. She said they did mean things for fun. So maybe Darren and Rusty thought it was going to be fun to spank me, and they thought so because they thought it would be mean to spank me, that I wouldn't like it. If that was the case, they would surely spank me for as long as they wanted, rules or no rules. And they'd spank me as hard as they could, to be as mean as possible. When I realised that, I felt the same thrill of excitement I'd felt when my nightgown first came up and showed them my panties. When I thought that two big strong boys were going to spank me hard, and spank me a long time, and have lots of fun doing it, it made me feel incredibly excited.

"They're going to spank me for the fun of it!" I whispered, but right out loud. The sound of it thrilled me. "They're going to whap my bottom really really hard!" I breathed, and it excited me even more. "They're going to keep spanking me for as long as they want! They want to spank me over and over and over! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank!" I almost sang the words, imagining hard stinging slaps on my bottom as the boys leaned over me and swung. It made me feel strangely happy, and very very naughty about feeling that way.

Then a new thought intruded. 'I wonder if I'll cry when they spank me.'

At the thought of crying, I reconsidered, and realised there was a way to stop them after all. I could tell them to stop it, to untie me. I could just tell them I didn't want them to spank me. Then they would have to let me go. But then I might never find out what a spanking was like. If I stopped them this time, they would probably never even try to spank me again, and I would never know. But again I decided that I wanted them to spank me. And again I giggled, and trembled inside.

Then it occurred to me that if they thought I wanted them to spank me, they'd think it wasn't mean to spank me, so they'd think it was no fun to spank me, so they wouldn't spank me at all! Or if they thought I didn't want them to spank me and I'd tell on them for it, they wouldn't dare do it, and they'd let me go. They would only spank me as long as they thought it was mean, and thought I didn't like it, and only if they thought I wouldn't tell on them and get them in trouble for it. If I wanted them to spank me, which I did, I would have to be tricky about it. If I cried when they spanked me, even if I couldn't help it, that would make them think I didn't want it, so they'd keep doing it. But I also had to let them know that I wasn't going to tell on them. I wasn't sure how to do that, but I figured I'd think of something. At least I had part of a plan, so I could relax and wait. I squirmed in my bonds, checking to make sure they were still too tight for me to escape.

Just then, a distant door slammed shut, and footsteps echoed from the first flight of stairs. In a moment of panic, I was afraid my parents were home, and they would find me tied to my bed, panties showing, and I would have to tell them everything. Would I ever be in trouble then!

"We're back, Marie!" Rusty called out.

I let out a huge sigh of relief, then realised how funny it was, that I'd rather be caught tied up with my panties showing by some boys than by my parents.

"Are you loose yet? I hope not!" Darren called. He sounded as out of breath as Rusty.

A mad rush of footsteps pelted up the narrow stairs to my attic bedroom. Darren and Rusty charged in, both panting heavily. They had obviously been very eager to see me again, and I was flattered, though not so much as I might have been in other circumstances.

They both had their hands full, but trying to look past my arm and over my shoulder, I didn't see much, only their grins, so I knew they saw something they liked. Was it my panties, or my nightgown, or me?