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

BR&T date: 1958

"Hi, girls! Your regular babysitters couldn't be here today. They're tied up, and don't ask where. Your parents saw our notice on the church bulletin board, and called us to babysit you. I'm Jeff, and these are my friends, Mark, Curt, and Robert. We're going to have a lot of fun today."

Mark stepped forward. "This is the Twins Club, they said, and I can see why, since you're all twins. Two of each, how nice! Which reminds me, there are only two rules when we babysit you."

All the girls cheered but one. "What are they?" she asked.

"The first rule: you do everything we want. The second rule: we do everything we want. It's that simple. Anyone who breaks a rule will be in a world of trouble. Don't worry if you don't understand, we'll make sure you understand."

"Now let's find out your names. Stand up so we can see you and tell us your name. You first," he said, pointing at a girl in a short yellow sundress and bare feet.

She stood. "I'm Sadie," she murmured, bashfully.

"Hey, what a coincidence! We're sadies too!" Curt quipped, with a wink at Jeff. Jeff elbowed him sharply in the ribs and whispered in his ear. "Sorry," Curt mumbled back, "but I doubt they understand the joke anyway."

"You look like you're four years old, am I right?" Mark asked Sadie. She nodded her head. "Sit down. You next," he ordered, turning to a girl obviously Sadie's twin, wearing a light pink leotard and a white sweater, her bare feet tapping nervously on the plush carpet.

"I'm Sandy," she murmured, just as shyly as her sister.

"I'll bet you are. Then stay out of the sandbox, kid. Sandy is a boy's name, so we can't call you that. Is that short for Sandra?" She meekly nodded. "Are you in gymnastics, Sandra?" Another nod, with a little smile. "Great, I'll bet you have a really pretty body under that leotard, don't you? Nice hair, too, long straight blond hair, just like your sister. Sit down."

"You," Mark pointed, and a girl set aside the kitten in her lap and stood, smoothing out her red velvet skirt. She wore a white ruffled long-sleeved blouse with it, knee-length white socks with tassels, and well-polished saddle shoes with buckles. She kept her curly blond hair out of her blue eyes with a jeweled headband and two silver hairclasps.

"I'm Tiffany, and this is my sister, Heather. We're seven years old. We got a pony for our birthday last month, and we ride it all the time," she said, looking around the room to make sure the other girls were paying attention.

"We didn't tell you to introduce your sister. Shut up and sit down right now," Robert scolded her harshly, "and don't do anything unless we tell you to do it."

Tiffany sat down quickly, blushing in embarrassment. The kitten squealed and screeched until she moved aside. She shifted back into her place, blushing more.

"Don't hurt that pussy," Mark growled. "That's for us to do."

Curt gave Jeff a glance, as if expecting him to do something to Mark, but he was disappointed. Tiffany just hung her head a little lower, and blushed even deeper from embarrassment.

"Get up and tell us who you are," Mark demanded, looking right at Heather.

She quickly stood, said "I'm Heather," and sat down.

"We didn't tell you to sit down!" Mark barked.

"Sorry!" she said, standing up.

"We didn't tell you to stand up again!" Mark shouted furiously.

She almost sat down, but caught herself in time. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she pleaded, trembling. Her blond curls shook on the sides where they escaped her silver headband and flowery hairclasps. Her hands nervously rubbed along the thin black leather belt holding up her blue velvet skirt. She stood waiting. Nobody else moved or spoke as they all stared at her.

"For that you get a spanking, just so you all know what you'll get if you give us any trouble. Turn around, bend over, and put your hands on the sofa."

"I said I was sorry!" Heather protested, not believing they would actually spank her for something so small as sitting down.

"I mean now!" Mark insisted, grabbing her shoulders and roughly twisting her around and shoving her over. She landed face down on the cushions. Mark picked her up by her waist. "Stand up. And leave those hands on the sofa or you'll really get it," he warned.

Trembling, she obeyed. "Oh please, don't spank me, I won't do it again, oh please!" she pleaded. Mark reached around her slender waist and unbuckled her belt. He slid it out of the belt loops on her skirt. "Why are you doing that?" she asked, her voice quavering. The other girls sat in shocked silence as Mark lifted Heather's skirt up to her waist. He took her frilly sky blue silk panties by the waistband and yanked them down to her mid-thighs. "Oh no, don't do that!" Heather pleaded, "not on my bare bottom!"

Curt leaned forward and Jeff and Robert moved in close, all of them intent on the view. Mark folded Heather's belt in his hand and said "Here goes!"

Heather winced, ready for the belt to hit, but nothing happened. She looked back over her shoulder. Mark was holding the belt high, and smiling at her. She relaxed and smiled back a little.

WHAP! He brought the belt down faster than she could blink, in a hard smack on her tender flesh. "OOOWWWieee!" she screamed, "Oh! Oww oww oww! Oh pleeeease don't spank me any more!" she whimpered. "I'll be good, I really will!"

WHACK! The belt struck her again. The other girls screamed little screams of sympathy as Heather's tears began falling. She didn't dare move her hands, but her shoulders shook.

SMACK! her belt stung her again, across both sides. "AAHAAHahiie!" she wailed, screaming from the pain. Heather stood there, bent over with her hands on the sofa, her panties down around her thighs. She waited for the next blow, sobbing uncontrollably, not daring to resist. She waited and waited, but the blow never came. "Is it over?" she asked no one in particular, between her sniffles.

CRACK! "YEEAHahAhowOWww!!" she screamed, crying anew, her whole body shaking as the sobs wracked her.

"We didn't tell you to speak, did we?" Mark asked her through clenched teeth, pulling her head back by her curly golden hair. She shook her head, unable to speak. Her tears streaked her face and dripped off her chin and her cheeks.

Heather bit her lip, not daring to move, not daring to speak. The other girls in the Twins Club sat stunned, also not daring to speak for fear of being next for a spanking. After a minute, Jeff said "Turn around and sit down, Heather."

She stood, reached back and pulled her panties back up, and began to turn. Mark's grip on her arm stopped her, jerking her and shoving her until she was bent over again. "Oh no, what now?" she cried, "I was doing what you said! Ohh, don't, don't, don't, oh pleease don't! Why? Oh why?" she whimpered.

"We didn't say you could pull your panties back up, did we? You get another spanking for that!" Mark smirked, jerking her panties down to her knees this time. She was already sore beyond her tolerance, so the next blows made her scream even worse when the belt struck her.

"AHEAh! YAahEOW! OHOHWWiee! Oh oh please stop it! OHHWEEE! No! NO oh please doOOOWWWHaaie! WAAAH WWAAHH! Oh stEEEEOWW! hucWWWAAAOOWW!" She choked and gasped for breath as the sobs tore the breath from her frail body under Mark's relentless assault with her thin leather belt. Finally, he stopped.

"Now! Turn around and sit down!" Mark yelled.

The trembling little girl obeyed instantly, without so much as a gesture toward her panties. She sat with them still around her knees, her skirt up in back. Her crying quieted down to little whimpers of "oww, oh owwie, ow, ow" in between sniffles. The other girls gave her nervous glances but didn't speak to her.

"So, where were we? Oh yes. Get up and tell us who you are," Mark ordered, pointing to a girl in frayed white shorts and a faded halter top that left quite a lot of skin exposed between them.

She quickly stood, not wanting to give them the least excuse to spank her. "I'm Karen," she said, and bit off what she was about to add.

"Except for the hair, you look like you could be twins with Tiffany and Heather, Karen. How old are you?"

"Seven, and a couple of months," she answered promptly.

"Who's your twin?" Robert asked.

Karen looked at Robert, then fearfully back at Mark, wondering, before saying "Sam" and pointing at a girl with shoulder-length wavy black hair. She was sitting on the recliner with her knees drawn up to her chest. She wore a cheap plaid dress, faded from much use, and frayed at the hems. Faded ribbons dangled from the sides. The dress may have been pretty once, but not for years. It hid little in that position, showing her even cheaper yellow panties to anyone who cared to look. There were a few who cared to, whenever they didn't think there was something else better to see instead.

"Oh great, another boy's name. If you've got a prick we're going to demand triple the price for babysitting you," Curt blurted out. Jeff gave him a stern look and he shut up.

"Stand up," Mark ordered the girl on the recliner. She put her bare feet down on the carpet and stood, eyes downcast, twirling the loose ribbons on her dress between her fingers. "What's your whole name?" he demanded of her. "And look at me when you say it!"

She lifted her chin and stammered out, "Samantha Elisabeth Sexton." She dropped her chin back to her chest and stood waiting on his demands, meekly submissive.

"Cool! Only one letter off!" Curt snickered, prompting another jab from Jeff. "Ouch! Well, it's true!" he added in his defense.

Mark ignored the interruption and walked up to Samantha. Taking her chin in his hand, he raised her face to his, and grinned down at her. "Well, Samantha, you're seven years old and a couple of months, right?" She nodded. He released her and stood back. "Tiffany says she got a pony for her birthday. Tell us what you got for yours."

Samantha stood silent, too ashamed to answer. "Tell him!" Karen whispered desperately, not wanting to see her twin sister get the belt. As an afterthought, she hoped that she wouldn't get it for whispering without permission.

"Um, I got a dress," Samantha finally stated, her cheeks tinged with red.

"Oh, a new dress? What's it like? Is it real purty?" Jeff teased.

"No, not a new dress. Just a dress. This is it." She blinked back tears. For her, this was almost as bad as getting spanked. She was used to being spanked, but in her mind, this was the worst torment there could be.

Sounds of giggling captured everyone's attention before the girl could stifle herself. Everyone looked over at Tiffany. She sat on the sofa beside her twin, her hand over her mouth, staring back at the hard stares from the boys. She held as still as a mouse under the gaze of a hawk.

"You!" Jeff pointed. "Get over here!" He pointed to a spot beside Samantha. Tiffany still didn't move, frozen with terror. By the time she saw two angry teenage boys coming for her, it was too late to amend her error.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" she squealed in fright, struggling and kicking her legs, as the boys picked her up between them, their fingers digging into her frail arms.

"That's the last time you'll ever say that, while we're around!" Curt promised her, earning him another stare from Jeff.

The boys deposited her where Jeff was pointing. "You better not move from that spot until we tell you to move," he threatened her. "You know what will happen if you do."

She gulped. She knew. She wondered what she was in for now.

"Before we deal with this one, hadn't we better find out who these other two girls are?" Robert suggested.

"Good idea," Mark agreed. "Sit down," he told Karen, and gestured to the last two girls. "Both of you, come out here."

Two cute little girls, obviously twins, came out from behind the sofa where they had hidden when Heather's spanking began. They were dressed in matching pink dresses, trimmed with bright pink ribbons weaving back and forth up the front, and topped by lavender jackets. Each girl had wavy blond hair, shoulder-length if let free, but held in pigtails today by long shiny pink ribbons. Their pretty white socks had pink trim. They wore no shoes.

Hesitantly, they approached and stood before the boys, looking up at them with frightened eyes. They were not much more than half the height of the boys. They cowered down, emphasizing the differences.

"What's your name?" Mark asked the first girl.

"Rhiannon," she whispered.

"Speak up, or pay the price," Robert warned, since he hadn't heard.

"Now that's a good girl's name," Mark said, "but tell us your whole name, and say it louder."

"Rhiannon Serenity Fontana," she piped, loud enough to clearly reveal the fear in her voice.

"Now you, same thing," Mark demanded of Rhiannon's mirror image.

"Melinda Compassion Fontana," came her timid reply. She had to be prompted twice more before she finally spoke loud enough for all the boys to hear. Curt looked disappointed that she wasn't going to get a spanking.

"Where are your shoes?" Jeff demanded to know.

"Out by the door. We're not allowed to wear them in here," Melinda squeaked.

"Why not?" he pressed.

"Because they're not good enough!" Tiffany interrupted. "They're just ordinary shoes. Not like my shoes," she added, showing off her shiny elegant footwear. "That's why they have to leave them out there when they visit me."

"Oh yes, fancy little Tiffany, in her fancy little shoes, and her beautiful velvet skirt and silk blouse, laughing at Samantha's birthday present. I guess it's time for a change." Jeff and Mark, the tallest and strongest of the boys, casually returned to Tiffany, who had not moved from her assigned place beside Samantha.