"A TUTORIAL FROM ALEX" by the Crimson Kid
[Category: Remembering Alex Birch]

{Note: I don't consider this disrespectful of the dead, I figure Alex would have a sense of humor about it--he always had problems accepting F/M stories as realistic but he wasn't offended by them. As for "Lady," she could be any SSS female switch.}

It was Alex Birch who'd just blurted "This is all wrong!" - I knew that, even though I'd never seen a photo of him; he'd appeared as a healthy-looking, mid-thirtyish man.

The woman preparing to spank me shared my impression. "Alex Birch, isn't it?" Being a soc.sexuality.spanking newsgroup participant, she also knew the most immediately relevant fact. "But you're...??"

He smiled indulgently. "Deceased, yes - but I can visit a place like this." He spoke her name, she was a female switch - somehow I'd known her identity too, that attractive, classy lady in her mid-twenties, though in real life she was older. "What were you doing on Earth?"

"Transcendental meditation," she replied.

Alex regarded me. "And you, CK?"

Apparently the recognition factor worked all ways. "Under hypnosis."

"That's why you're psychically here at Crossroads," he explained. "You'll only vaguely recall this, like a dream, so don't bother asking about the afterlife - but I will say it's one thing I'm quite happy to have been wrong about."

"Will we experience anything physical here?" Lady asked.

"You two can, it will feel fully corporeal," Alex responded, "I've come here to help you do things correctly."

Her brows furrowed. "Huh?"

"Hand CK the paddle and change into spankee attire," he directed, "I'm giving a tutorial on the proper male role--topping a female. You can alter your clothing by mental focus."

Moments later, seated on a padded ottoman, I lifted Lady's mini- skirt above her waist, revealing lacy panties that left most of her upturned milky bumcheeks nicely exposed.

"Beautiful bottom," I noted appreciatively.

Alex grinned. "Feminine arses are made to be spanked - so get underway, color those sweet cheeks to match her knickers."

Although my spankophile orientation is about 80% bottom, I readily complied - I smacked that ruler-style oaken paddle against Lady's squirming, pinkening southern hemispheres, delivering fifty smarting swats while she squealed delightfully.

"Down they come," I announced merrily, baring her rosy rump.

"Use a spanking brush," my ethereal tutor instructed.

Mere will transformed my implement into a Sephora hairbrush, which I applied to my lovely spankee's gluteal globes with playful-yet- determined intensity. A hundred emphatic paddywhacks left her sobbing yet satisfied.

"That stung wonderfully, CK." She kissed my cheek. "I've got extra incentive after we switch."

"Please, not that," Alex sputtered, "It's just...unnatural."

I remembered the only type of female-spanks-male scenario that he'd stated he could accept, so I morphed into an eight-year-old wearing blue 'Doctor Denton' pajamas; Lady transformed herself into a thirtyish maternally-attired woman after appropriating the brush.

"You've got an adult mentality," she stated while lowering my seat flap, "So my hairbrush will wallop your bouncy bare behind blistering- hard." She spanked me soundly over her knee for five minutes; I started crying around the thirty-second mark.

After Alex vanished, we altered ourselves - Lady slightly younger, me an early-thirtyish male sporting only a raspberry thong brief - then she materialized a wickedly-severe loopy johnny.

"Good thing he's gone," she clucked, "Because I'm going to make you howl for mercy - to no avail..."

{The End}