This short story is an entry in the 2002 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: Child
Waiting
By
Zprymantis <zprymantis@smilingwithteeth.com>
It's never easy to wait. Zoey rested her head on Daddy's arm and hugged him around the middle. Her big toe gently rubbed back and forth against his leg. The sports commentators were talking about basketball, and Zoey knew it was best to be quiet. Moments later, as a commercial played, Zoey tried once again to mellow the events that were about to happen.
"Daddy," a finger idly circling around his belly, "it's just going to be with your hand, right?"
"We shall see, young lady." Daddy's hand gave a small rub to her shoulder. "I might have to use the hairbrush on your caboose, as well."
Zoey squirmed, and felt her bottom cheeks clench involuntarily. Then she breathed out and spoke at the same time. "Not if I am good this time and don't grab my panties."
Daddy didn't answer, but squeezed her shoulder. She heard him exhale, and she knew from the sound that he smiled.
The news was back on again, and Zoey's toe kept up its steady rubbing. Daddy's free hand moved to his belly, right in line with her field of vision, as he turned up the volume on the remote control.
Zoey stared at his hand for the longest time, his fingers and fingernails, and the way they curled comfortably around the remote. She put her hand next to his and reached out one finger to rub the soft hairs that grew on top of his fingers. She thought about his hand holding the wooden hairbrush or taking down her panties. Again, she involuntarily clenched her bottom, aware now of her anus nestled there and all the other parts that daddy would soon be seeing. If he used the hairbrush, she would surely lose control and kick her legs apart. A flutter in her tummy escaped in a desperate voice.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I learned my lesson about holding onto my panties."
"That's my good girl. After your nighttime hairbrush spanking, Daddy will rub some tushy cream on that naughty little bottom of yours." Daddy hugged her shoulder in another reassuring squeeze and moved his hand to pet her hair.
The announcers talked about the hockey scores and replayed the goals from the game they had watched together earlier in the day. She heard Daddy make a soft groan as the puck again slipped past the goal post and the goalie slumped down in despair.
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
"You will be."
When the sports news was over, Zoey found herself in the familiar bottoms up position across her Daddy's knee, waiting, once again. This time, relaxing her cheeks as his fingers tickled their way up her bottom crack and tucked themselves into the waistband of her pajamas.
It's never easy to wait.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2002
Reviews
Tami <tamishy(at)webtv(dot)net>
«She put her hand next to his and reached out one finger to rub the soft hairs that grew on top of his fingers.» It's details like this that make this story so vivid. I almost feel like I am there watching them. Transporting the reader inside the story, is a sign of a good writer
John <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
When I first heard the phrase 'inner child,' I took it as a metaphor. An easy way to express the fact that none of us truly ever grow up. After all, all the inappropriate feelings don't disappear, they're just internalized as we learn not to act them out and make a public spectacle.
In age play, some of us 'play' with the remembered feelings, the lack of control, the inappropriate desires, and by giving them a safe place to come out and express themselves, take what once were negative feelings and now 'get a rise' out of them.
Some 'inner children' are cultivated to the extent that they seem to have a separate personality altogether. And of course, being who they are, they are very naughty inner children indeed.
Have fun, kids.
Needy Wench <needywench(at)hotmail(dot)com>
Excellent! In a story where the spanking is not the centerpiece, the anticipation of that event holds both the main character and the reader spellbound. Indeed, waiting is hard, but stories like this make it much easier to bear.