This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Adult
WARNING: The author of this story is as vain as they go, and didn't bother to have it proof-read, itching to post sooner. So blame any mistakes you can find on anyone you can spank - but not me.
Online And Off
By
Ten to nine. Time to check mail.
"Ding"? What do you mean "Ding"? Surely Celeste must have woken up by now? She calls this plotting, huh?
Let's check the message board then. Aha, there we go. My cue.
Daisie jumps up high and catches the ball just as it was going to hit the window. She looks smugly at the smaller kids. "There you go, little fishes. You know what you've nearly done? Nearly broken Mr. Grumpyhead's window, that's what. You owe me!" "Give me the ball back, Daisie," Blinkey says. "Ten Hershey's Kisses, kids. No less. By tomorrow morning, too, or the ball is mine. Got it? Good!" She spins on her heel and leaves the playground.
Half past nine. How about mail now, please?
FROM: Magistrate "Get offline this very minute, young lady! Dan."
Oh, man. He must have phoned to check. Alright, let's brush those teeth since we're offline anyway.
"Hello? Of course I'm up. Dan, come on. It's holidays! I was just checking mail. Okay, I'll do that. Yes, boss. Uh, sorry, sir. Um, bye."
Sheesh. Quarter past ten. How's my mailbox doing? I ha-a-ate it. My kingdom for a letter!
Right. Let's see about that supermarket.
Twenty past three. Mail?
FROM: Celeste Carlisle "You've got a deal, girl! Old Grumpyhead's gonna hate the red paint thing, he gets really pissed at people writing on the walls. Any idea what we should write? Luv, Cel."
Hmm, that needs thinking over.
Five to four.
FROM: Magistrate. "Ellie, I'll be home late today, but could you wait with supper? While you are waiting, here's a picture to meditate on. Note what the girl is wearing, I'll expect to see something like this when I'm back. Hugs, Daniel."
Wow. Easier to note what she _isn't_ wearing: a bra. Does he mean... holly shanks, he does! Okay, suppose I pluck all buttons from my white shirt and tie the tails under my breasts. With a real short pleated skirt - well not the same, but close enough. Whew. Looks hot, but... I hope he has a fitting scene in mind, cause I can't imagine why a normal girl would want to dress like _this_!
Seven sharp.
FROM: Mouldy Madigan. "Daisy, I loved the story; Connie and I even played it out. Thanks! Mouldy."
Okay, where's my man? Sheesh, Dan! Come home OR ELSE.
Okay, let's see the message-board then.
Mr. Gregorson hears the commotion and comes to investigate. "Daisie! Come here, NOW! What have I just heard you call me, young lady? Give the ball back to these children, and come to my office immediately! March!" SWAT
Twenty past seven.
I've got mail!
FROM: Magistrate. "When I come home, I want to see you sitting on the lowest step of the staircase, reading a print-out of a hot, but highly improper story. Read it several times before I arrive. Dan."
Half past nine.
Boy did it hurt. Boy is it hot. Boy does it feel like Heaven!
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
Tami <tamishy(at)webtv(dot)net>
A peek at a day in the life of. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who spends all day checking mail and reading boards. Change the names and you have just about got my daily routine down pat. Points for familiarity. Nice Story.
Musicman <rcarrol(at)gte(dot)net>
This one was a little too non-linear for my taste, but it is well written. I understand that English may not be the author's first language, so I am further impressed.