Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 22
by Chadlad

copyright 2007 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
chadlad3@yahoo.com

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY It contains explicit
depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are
not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read
further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 22:  Shirley You Jest

She hadn't been Mrs. Raphael then, of course.  She'd been
little Shirley, just 9 years old, visiting her aunt and her
slightly younger cousin Jeremy for the weekend while her
parents went on what they called a "Second Honeymoon." 
Despite worrying that she'd miss her parents, Shirley had
been excited about visiting her cousin.  As an only child
living far from the city, she had few playmates except at
school and rarely saw relatives at all.  She'd had all sorts
of expectations of what her visit would be like.  Maybe
Jeremy would play house with her, and she could be the mommy
and he the daddy and she'd feed him a pretend dinner while
he talked about his day at work.  Or maybe he had a tree
house, where they could sit and look out at the yards below
– she'd always wanted a tree house, but her parents were
afraid she'd fall from it.  Maybe they'd play ball in the
street, like kids were always doing in books.

The reality was hugely disappointing.  When she arrived
Friday night, her aunt had been very sweet and friendly, but
Jeremy had merely said "Hello, Shirley" in a sullen voice
when introduced to her, then gone off to the living room to
listen to his western serial on the radio.  He refused to
talk to her, even during the commercials, and after it was
over, he'd gone to his room and shut the door, effectively
blocking her out.  Tired and discouraged, she'd climbed into
her temporary bed on her aunt's couch, hoping that he'd be
more friendly in the morning.  But he'd remained in bed the
next morning, refusing to come out until his mother had
threatened to pour water on him, than sat at the table
chewing sullenly and refusing to answer her questions about
his toys, the neighborhood, or what they could do that day.

After breakfast, Shirley's Aunt Matilda had suggested they
all go shopping at the downtown Woolworth, where they had
all sorts of interesting things, including new rag dolls and
bags of shiny marbles, and even penny candy of an astounding
number of types.  Shirley had been wide-eyed with delight
the whole time, enjoying just looking at all those wondrous
things.  But for some reason Jeremy had been sulky and
unhappy, refusing to look at the boxes of tin soldiers and
the wooden trains that usually excited him.  "I want penny
candy, ma," he'd insisted.  "Come on, you said I could have
some penny candy."

"I suppose a little won't hurt you children," his mother had
said.  She reached into her purse.  "Here, you can each have
a nickel," she said, offering the two coins.  "That means
you can get 5 whole pieces apiece."

Shirley had been thrilled, but Jeremy's face hand clouded. 
"It's not fair," he protested.  "It's not fair!  You usually
give me a dime!  I shouldn't have to share my dime with a
dumb old girl!"

"Why Jeremy Arthur Whitt!" his mother had exclaimed. 
"That's no way to talk in front of your cousin!  She came
all the way in from the countryside to visit with us!"

"Well, I didn't want her!" Jeremy said petulantly.  "When
you said my cousin was coming to play, I though you meant a
boy, like Jeffrey or Floyd!  Why did she have to come. 
She's just a dumb old girl!  And now you're giving her my
nickel!"

Shirley felt like crying, kind of sad and angry at the same
time.  Why didn't Jeremy like her?  And what did he mean,
that she was just a dumb old girl?  Girls weren't dumb!  

Seeing Shirley's stricken look and the stares of
disapproving shoppers nearby, Shirley's Aunt Matilda had
colored in anger and embarrassment.  People were looking at
them – she needed to do something now!  She leaned down and
looked him in the eye.  "That's no way to talk to our
guest," she said.  "Apologize to your cousin this instant!"

"I won't!" he said.  "I won't 'pologize! She ruined
everything!  Why'd she have to be a dumb old girl?"  he said
stubbornly, looking at Shirley with clear distaste.

"I've a good mind to take that nickel away again, young
man!" his mother said.  "I don't believe you deserve any
candy!"

"NO!"  Jeremy said, snatching his hand away, the nickel
clutched in it.  He turned and ran up the aisle, bumping
into a pyramid of boxes of soap powder as he passed it.  The
boxes toppled with a loud crash, making everyone else in the
crowded store suddenly turn and stare at them.  Shirley's
aunt had flushed a dark red. 

"I'm so sorry," she'd said to everyone in sight, picking up
boxes, trying to help the clerk who was restacking the pile
and assuring her no harm had been done while the matrons
who'd witnessed the whole debacle clucked in disapproval
around them.  She looked past the boxes, trying to see where
Jeremy had gone.  "I don't know what's gotten into him," she
said to a thin, steely-eyed older woman who was looking at
her disapprovingly.

"I swear, I don't understand you young folks and your modern
parenting," the matron said, shaking her head.  "Why, if
that had been my Morty back in the day, I'd have warmed his
heinie up good and proper right here in the store, don't
think I wouldn't have!"

A second elderly woman sidled up beside her.  "Quite right,
quite right, Eunice," she said loudly.  "These young
mothers, they don't use discipline!  Why, I once practically
wore my Danny out with a wooden shingle when he didn't act a
tenth that rudely!  I bent him right over the stump out back
and gave it to him on the bare, I did!  He minded his p's
and q's after that, you'd better believe!  I still remember
him dancing around the yard afterward rubbing himself and
screeching to beat the band!  It brought all the neighbor
kids out, and him without his pants on!"  She chuckled to
herself at the image.

"Mark my words, that boy's headed for trouble," the first
woman said in return.  "If you care about his future, you'll
round him up and take him home for a good britches dusting
this instant!" she added.

"Perhaps I shall," Shirely's aunt said, still blushing.  She
looked at the floor.  "Yes, perhaps I shall.  Just as soon
as I get him home." She poked in her pocketbook and
retrieved another nickel and handed it to Shirley.  "Get
your candy, sweetheart," she said.  "Jeremy won't be using
his, so you can have his share.  "I'll find him and bring
him back here to apologize," she said.  "And you can rest
assured he'll pay for it when we get home!" she added to the
watching biddies.

Shirley's heart had begun racing with excitement.  Her nasty
little boy cousin was going to get a spanking when they got
home!  Maybe even a bare-bottom spanking!  She'd never seen
a boy get a spanking before!  She'd never even seen a boy's
bare bottom!  As an only child, she'd had little contact
with other children at all except at school, where the boys
and the girls played in distinctly separate groups and
seldom interacted.  She knew about spankings.  She'd seen
kids, mostly boys, get spanked at school.  School spankings
usually were given immediately, and consisted of a few open-
handed slaps on the seat of the pants as they stood that
raised clouds of dust but had little effect on the boys
receiving them except a bit of flushing of the face.  Still,
they were exciting to watch.  

She'd also been on the receiving end of a few spankings at
home, which were and entirely different affair as well as
quite a lot more painful.  All the spankings she'd received
had involved being told she'd gone to far and was going to
be spanked, followed by a lecture from her mother on her
misbehavior and a caution that any attempt to get away or
resist the spanking would be dealt with by an additional
spanking after the first one.  Her mother would then grasp
Shirley's middle and hoist her over her lap, flipping her
dress up and then applying at 10 stinging slaps to her
panty-clad bottom that always stung like the dickens and
made her cry.  The year before, Shirley had always received
9 spanks each time, or as her mother liked to say, "one for
each year and one as a reminder."  But now that she was 9
and the total had been increased, it seemed like that 10th
spank hurt more than all the others.  (There was a good
reason for this, which Shirley was not privy to – her mother
had been discussing spanking their children with her
childhood friend, Mrs. Weiss, and Mrs. Weiss had suggested
the value of centering the last spank in the middle of the
child's bottom, "so that it stings the whole area and wakes
up where they've already gotten it," as well as making that
spank harder to emphasize the lesson.)

Those spankings had always been conducted in the privacy of
her room, and Shirley would be left on her bed to cry into
her pillow afterward until she'd cried herself out, after
which she'd venture, shamefaced and subdued, back into the
living room where her mother would greet her as if nothing
at all had happened.

But just the month before, Shirley's mother had become
exasperated with when she ignored her mother when she said
to go take out the garbage and instead continued to play
with her dolls on the living room floor.  She'd stalked over
and yanked Shirley to her feet, announcing that a girl as
bad as her obviously needed more serious correction, and
that from now on all spankings would be on the bare bottom. 
Before Shirley could protest or escape, her mother had
yanked up her dress, ordering Shirley to hold it up above
her belly button unless she wanted two spankings!  Shocked,
Shirley had awkwardly done as she was told, lifting her
dress until her bare midriff and dingy white panties were
exposed on all sides.  Her mother had then slowly and
deliberately lowered Shirley's panties and ordered her to
step out of them, leaving them on the floor and exposing her
bum to her father, who'd been, as usual for that time of
day, reading the evening paper in his chair behind her.  
Her mother had then taken her across her lap as usual,
applying the normal 10 spanks to Shirley's now bare
posterior as she kicked and squealed and flushed with both
pain and embarrassment. In addition to the fact that this
bare-bottom spanking had hurt much more than underpants
spanking, her mother's firm hand stinging something fierce
when applied to her soft, bare skin, there had been the
knowledge that her father was sitting right there, watching. 


Shirley was used to her mother seeing her private areas. 
After all, her mother was the one who prepared the big
bathtub in the middle of the floor every Saturday by filling
it with hot water, then undressing Shirley and leaning over
the side of the tub to scrub the girl clean.  She would
unselfconsciously get on all fours so her mother could wash
her doo-doo place, and sit contentedly with legs spread so
her mother could wash what she called her "butterfly,"  the
place where pee-pee came out and there was a mysterious
little tunnel into her body.  No, her mother saw her
completely naked then, so seeing her naked bottom in this
situation wasn't that big a deal.  What had made the
spanking embarrassing was that it had been administered in
the living room just before bedtime, and her father had
witnessed it, putting his newspaper down in his lap and
nodding approvingly at the discipline his wife was applying
to his daughter's bare fanny.  After her spanking, the
loudly bawling Shirley had been set on her shaky legs
directly in front of her father, still ordered to hold her
dress up to "display the marks of her shame to everyone,"
her lower half completely bare.  She had no choice but to
face him, then, letting him see her butterfly as clearly as
he had seen her bottom while she'd been spanked.  Her father
had then pulled her close and hugged her, running his hands
over her bumpy, glowing red posterior as he admonished her
to behave herself in the future unless she wanted her mom to
give her an even bigger spanking, and warning her that all
her spankings from then one would be in the living room in
front of him.  Shirley had taken that advice to heart, and
as a result had not received a spanking since that bare
bottomed adventure.

But even if he didn't get it on his bare bottom, the
prospect of seeing her boy cousin Jeremy receive a spanking
was an exciting one.  For starters, she had decided she
didn't really like Jeremy that much.  He had more or less
ignored her since she had arrived, replying to her questions
in monosyllables and refusing to play anything she wanted to
play.  It would be very satisfying to see him in the bottom
up position, crying as helplessly as she did when she was
spanked.  That's what she was hoping for – a real spanking,
with him having to get over his mother's lap and lie there,
face down and humiliated, while she "tanned his hide," as
her mother sometimes put it.  She wanted to see Jeremy's
face as he realized that he was moments from being spanked,
and watch his distress grow as he was hoisted over the
maternal lap, his bottom the center of attention in the
room, bent prominently over the maternal knee.  She longed
to see what his face would look like as he awaited the first
stinging slap on his little-boy bottom.  What expression
would he have on his face as he waited for he fanny to
suddenly awaken to the first of what would be many stinging
slaps?  How long would he go before he began to cry, and
would he cry as hard as she did?  And how would he feel
after his spanking ended, and, with his bottom still
stinging, he had to stand and face his cousin, knowing she
had just watched him be totally humiliated?

Yes, it would be satisfying to see Jeremy get spanked, even
if he didn't receive it on the bare bottom.  But she hoped
with all her heart that his mother did follow through on her
threat to pulled down his pants and maybe even his
underpants, and she had several reasons for that wish. 
First, getting spanked on the bare would hurt his heinie
more, and she wanted him to hurt after he'd ignored her and
called her a "dumb old girl" in front of everyone.  But
mostly, she wanted to see Jeremy get a bare-bottomed
spanking because of the great mystery concerning just what
boys had in their pants.  

Shirley had gathered from various sources that boys were
different than girls down there.  Oh, not in back.  There
they had bottoms just like girls did, and they went doo-doo
out of them just like girls, too, she supposed.  But they
were somehow different in the front, with different anatomy
entirely than her own neat little furrow.  She had herself
observed by surreptitious glances at opportune times that
males' pants tended to bulge outward over their crotches
rather than tapering in smoothly like girls did, so that
there must indeed be something mysterious attached there,
something that pushed their pants out.  She'd seen that the
bulges were different sizes, too.  In general, grown men and
teenage boys bulged out quite prominently whereas little
boys like Jeremy himself showed only small bulges.  Yet the
sizes of the bulges varied even in boys her age, and
sometimes the bulge varied in size on the same boy at
different times.  Why, just the week before Stanley
Overstreet had sported a bulge that stuck out almost like a
little tent when he'd been called to the blackboard to do a
math problem, yet just a few minutes later, when he came
back after finishing his problem and being excused to go to
the boys' room, his bulge had become small and almost
unnoticeable.  So something had to be there on boys,
something mysterious that girls didn't have, and that
changed size now and then.

The mystery had been increased recently when she overheard
one of the girls who went to Sunday school confide to
another that her little brother had run naked into the yard
when her mother had been distracted changing him, and that
"everyone could see his little pee-pee flopping around." 
The two girls had exchanged wicked grins and giggled in
shared knowledge, whereas the comment had only intensified
Shirley's confusion.  She knew what pee-pee was, of course –
she had to go pee-pee herself, and so did dogs and cats and
cows and horses, so it made sense boys did, too.  But the
girl had talked about her brother having a pee –pee—one that
flopped around as he ran.  

Too shy to ask the girl about it, she had pondered this
information many different nights while waiting to go to
sleep.  So boys had a thing that flopped around when they
ran and bulged out the front of their pants and changes in
size some times, and that thing was called a "pee-pee."  But
she found the whole idea hard to picture.  Was it a lump
like a rubber ball?  Or something else?

 Please, God, she thought to herself.  Please let him get a
spanking on the bare bottom!   In front of her!  And if it
wasn't too much to ask, please have Aunt Matilda take his
pants off first, so that she could see what boys had in
there once and for all!

She eagerly chose 10 pieces of penny candy and paid for them
at the counter.  As the shop owner handed her the small bag,
her aunt came stomping back into the room, dragging Jeremy
by the arm.  She shoved him in front of Shirley and the shop
owner.  "Now I want you to apologize to this nice shop owner
and your cousin for your behavior," she ordered.  Jeremy
crossed his arms in front of him and stuck out his lower
lip, looking at them defiantly.  Shirley glared back at him. 
"Go ahead, apologize," his mother said.  Jeremy glared
harder.  At least 30 seconds dragged by.  Shirley's aunt
began to lose patience.  "I'm going to count to 10," she
said.  "And if you haven't started to apologize by then,
you're getting a big spanking when we get home!  I mean it!" 
Jeremy thrust his lip out further and looked even more
defiant.  His mother began counting slowly in the
background.  "1, 2, 3, 4... I mean, it, Jeremy!  You
apologize this instant, or I swear I will spank your little
bottom when I get home!"  Jeremy continued to glare.  "...
5, 6, 7... I'm not bluffing, young man!  If you don't
apologize, you're getting the biggest spanking of your life! 
I'll even do it on the bare!"  Jeremy glared back, hugging
himself more tightly.  "...8, 9, ...I'm not kidding --- I'll
spank your bare heinie, don't think I won't," his mother
said.  Jeremy stuck out his tongue at Shirley.  "...10!" 
His mother said.  "That's it, we're going home to give you
your spanking!" she said.  Angrily, she seized him firmly by
the upper arm and began dragging him out the door, keenly
aware of her defeat by her son in front of the staring
customers.  "I'm sorry," she said to the shopkeeper, as she
dragged a struggling Jeremy out the door.  "And I'll make
him sorry, too.  Come along Shirley."

Shirley had skipped to the car behind her aunt and her
struggling cousin.  The latter had been summarily deposited
in the back seat, and the door slammed, as Shirley had
daintily and cheerfully climbed into the front seat.  Jeremy
had stretched out on the back seat, staring at the ceiling
and refusing to look at them.  Her aunt, glaring in every
direction, had swiftly driven the old Ford coupe away,
winding through the streets back to her residential
household.  Shirley was bubbling with excitement.  Jeremy
was gonna get a spanking!  Maybe even a bare-bottomed
spanking!  She hoped it would happen as soon as they went in
the door!  And she'd watch, because even if her Aunt sent
her away, or took Jeremy to his room, she'd sneak in to
where she could see!

Her aunt drove along without speaking, occasionally glaring
into the mirror at her son.  Finally Shirley could not stand
the suspense any longer.  "Are you really gonna spank Jeremy
when we get home?"  She asked eagerly.  "On the bare bottom? 
Can I watch?"  Her aunt didn't answer her directly, instead
looking into the rear-view mirror, where the still
reclining, recalcitrant Jeremy couldn't be seen.

"If you don't apologize to me and your cousin, and promise
to be a better boy in the future, I will spank you when we
get home, I swear!" His mother added after another minute. 
"Maybe even on the bare!  So you've got a decision to make. 
You can keep sulking and feeling sorry for yourself and earn
yourself a spanking when we get home, or you can straighten
up and apologize and be nice to your cousin and maybe not
get a spanking.  It's your decision."  

I hope he decides to take the spanking, Shirley thought to
herself.  She didn't need any old apologies from any stupid
boy cousins.  The trio rode along in silence the rest of the
way home, Shirley's aunt showing her disapproval by sniffing
periodically and looking daggers in the rearview mirror,
Jeremy responding by continuing to lie across the back seat
and look at the ceiling.  Shirley turned around and got on
her knees so she could look over the back seat at him.  He
glared as he caught sight of her, sticking out his tongue at
her and then looking pointedly away, as if she was beneath
his attention.

"Jeremy stuck his tongue out at me!" she said, turning
indignantly to her aunt.

"Sit down, dear," Aunt Matilda said.  "You might hit your
head if I had to stop suddenly."  She glared into the rear
view mirror at the empty space above her son.  "Keep it up,
young man, and I really will spank you, I swear I will!  I
don't care if your cousin's visiting, I'll do it!"  Jeremy
remained silent.

Good!  thought Shirley.  He could just keep acting that way! 
She was going to see a boy get spanked!  She could hardly
contain herself. They pulled into the driveway and Shirley's
aunt shut off the engine.  Shirley opened the door and
reached for her penny candy bag.  Her aunt was setting the
parking brake and gathering her shawl.  "Are you going to
spank Jeremy right away?"  Shirley asked hopefully.  "As
soon as we get inside?"  Her aunt got out and glared at
Jeremy still lying on his back, staring at the ceiling in
the back seat.  

"I just might," she snapped, opening the back door.  "Get
out of the car, young man!  I've never been so ashamed of
you in my life!"  Jeremy remained frozen, staring at the
ceiling.  "I mean it – I will spank your bare bottom, I
swear, if you don't apologize!"  She turned from the door,
then looked up as she noticed something moving out of the
corner of her eye and let out a little gasp.  Shirley turned
to look, spying a large red rooster and several hens pecking
at the lawn.  

"Oh, dear," her aunt said.  "The hens are out of the pen
again!  Jeremy, you and Shirley get them rounded up and put
them back.  And make sure they have food and water."  Jeremy
sat up, smirking at how easily his mother was diverted from
her worries about his misbehavior.  He'd smiled too soon,
though.  Seeing his smirk, his mother added, "then you so
straight to your room young man, and decide whether you want
to apologize or take the consequences!"

"You said you were going to spank him, Aunt Matilda,"
Shirley said helpfully.  "You said you were going to do it
on his bare bottom!"

"Did I?"  Jeremy's mother said.  "Well, we'll see.  If he
doesn't apologize fairly quickly, maybe I will."  She headed
into the house.  Jeremy shut the car door and began slowly
herding chickens back to the pen.  Shirley began helping
him, raising her arms and making little lunges at them. 
Together they edged the chickens toward the back yard.  

"Your ma's gonna spank you!" Shirley said gleefully, driving
an errant hen toward Jeremy.  "Maybe even on your bare bum! 
And I'm gonna watch!  I'll see your -- I'll see everything!" 
she added, stopping herself before she said "pee-pee"
because she wasn't sure that was the right thing to say.

Jeremy looked at her scornfully.  "She won't spank me," he
said.  "She's always saying that.  But she won't.  I'll go
to my room and she'll forget all about it in a little while. 
She always does – I've never gotten a spanking!"  He looked
at her with a superior air.  "Well, almost never.  She
spanked me once when I was little, but she doesn't do it any
more!  I'm too tough for her, so she gave up."  A smirk came
over his face and he looked at her knowingly.  "I bet you
get spanked, though!  I bet your ma spanks you good and
proper!  Probably bare!  She probably spanks you all the
time!"  His eyes searched her face, suddenly gleaming.

Shirley blushed, remembering her most recent, bare-bottomed
session over her mother's lap as her father looked on, and
the promise of longer and harder bare-bottomed spankings in
front of him in the future.  "No," she lied.

"She does too," Jeremy said confidently, noting her hesitant
reaction and her red face.  "I bet she spanks you on your
bare po-po!  I bet you get it all the time!  But my ma won't
spank me.  I get away with all kinds of stuff."  He smirked
at her nastily.  "Maybe next summer I'll come visit you, and
get you into trouble like you did me.  Only your ma will
spank you, and I'll get to see your bare heinie!  And your
girl stuff, too!" He strutted to the faucet on the side of
the house and filled a watering pan, then another.

Shirley wasn't altogether sure what a po-po was.  She
suspected it was another word for her bottom, like heinie,
but she wasn't sure.  Perhaps he meant some more specific
part of that general region, like the crack between her
buns, or her do-do place.  It had to be somewhere in the
general spanking region.  Her hopes of seeing her cousin get
a spanking had fallen as he'd talked, though – so his mother
never spanked him, despite what she said?  Disappointment
filled her as she watched Jeremy dig into a feed sack and
dump ground corn into the feeding pans. Suddenly a
possibility came to her, raising her hopes of seeing a boy
get spanked.  Jeremy had said that he didn't get spanked
because Aunt Matilda always forgot to spank him.  Well,
she'd fix him – she'd make sure his mother didn't forget to
spank him this time!

The two of them went into the house, Jeremy going off to his
room where he could be seen through a crack in the door
playing with tin soldiers, humming as he set them up in
complex battle arrays.  Shirley went looking for her aunt. 
She found her busily rolling out pie crust, the table
covered with flour.  "You're just in time to help me peel
the apples," she said pleasantly to Shirley.

"You were going to spank Jeremy right away when we got home
if he didn't apologize, remember?" Shirley said immediately. 
"Well, he didn't apologize!"  

"Not right now, dear," her aunt replied.  "We have to get
this in the oven if it's going to be ready for dinner."

Shirley's face fell.  "But he hasn't apologized – he said
he'd never apologize.  And you promised that if he didn't
you'd spank him!   You promised!"

"I did promise him I'd give him a good spanking, didn't I,"
her aunt said distractedly.  "Well, I can't deal with that
right now – I have to get this pie in the oven."

"Okay," Shirley said.  "But don't forget when we're done to
give Jeremy his spanking!"  

Jeremy remained strategically out of sight as the two of
them worked on turning out two apple pies, rolling out
crusts, peeling and slicing apples, and dumping on sugar and
cinnamon.  Finally, the pies in the oven and the table
cleared, Shirley's aunt had said, "All right, dear, now we
can go into the living room for awhile while they bake."

"Aren't you going to spank Jeremy now?" Shirley asked
hopefully, bouncing from one foot to the other.  "He hasn't
apologized, you know," she added.  

Her aunt looked thoughtful.  "I suppose I'd better do
something now," she said.  "I can't let him just get away
with this."  They passed through the kitchen door into the
living room.  "Jeremy, are you ready to apologize now?" she
called.  The door to Jeremy's room remained closed.  

"See, he's not 'pologizing," Shirley said.  "So I guess you
have to spank him!"

Shirley's aunt opened her mouth, but what she was going to
say Shirley never knew, because just then the small, black
upright telephone on the end table began ringing shrilly,
two short rings and then a long one.  "Two shorts and a
long, that's us!" her aunt sang out.  She raced over to the
black phone and picked it up, lifting the earpiece and
holding the body in her hand while speaking into the
mouthpiece.  Shirley understood immediately, as a rural
dweller whose parents also had a party line.  Different
people on the line had different rings, and the ring pattern
denoted who should answer the phone.  So her aunt must be
two short rings and one long one.  Of course, Shirley's
mother sometimes picked up the earpiece and listened when
the phone hadn't rung her ring at all, and Shirley knew
better than to make any noise when her mother was "listening
in."  Some of the best neighborhood gossip was obtained that
way, anyway, and her mother invariably shared it with all of
them.

"Hello?" Aunt Matilda said into the phone.  "Oh, it's you,
Edith!  No, nothing – I just put some pies in the oven. 
Yes, of course I have time to chat.  You're kidding!  No, go
ahead and tell me all about it!"  She settled on the couch,
intent on her conversation.  Shirley, eager for Jeremy to
get spanked, stood waiting.  After several minutes, when it
became clear her aunt wasn't getting off the phone any time
soon, she drifted down the hall to Jeremy's door.  To her
surprise, it was open now, so she peeked around the door
jamb cautiously.  Scanning the room quickly, she was
disappointed to see it was empty.  Where was Jeremy?  

The loud flush of a toilet in the bathroom across the hall
answered that question.  The door opened and Jeremy slipped
out immediately, sneering when he saw her and then ducking
past her and reaching to shut the door.  She put a hand on
it to stop him.  "You didn't wash your hands," she said
accusingly.  

"Didn't have to," Jeremy said.  "I wasn't doing a dookie, so
I didn't touch anything, so I didn't have to wash."  He
tried to shut the door, impossible with Shirley leaning on
it.

"But you had to wipe yourself," Shirley insisted.  "Even if
you just went pee-pee, you had to wipe yourself.  So you
must have touched something – you should have washed your
hands.  I always wash my hands," she added, looking
superior.

"Don't you know anything?" Jeremy said, looking just as
superior.  "Boys don't have to wipe themselves unless they
make a dookie!  We just shake it off and we're done!  That's
why boys are better than girls."  He gave her a shove,
trying to catch her off balance and close the door, but she
shoved back, harder.  

"Shake what?" she asked, intrigued.   She gulped, building
up her courage to say it.  "What do you shake?  Your little
pee-pee?"  The last part she said so quietly that it came
out as a whisper.

Jeremy flushed with apparent anger.  "It's not so little,"
he hissed.  He glared at her, his hands on his hips.  "You
don't know nothin'," he said.  "You're just a dumb old girl! 
Mine's bigger than any of my friends!  He gave her a bigger
shove.  "It's bigger than Floyd's!  And Wilbur's!  And
Robert's!"  He gave her a shove as he named each name,
finally succeeding in clearing her from the doorway, which
he immediately slammed shut.

Shirley twisted on the door knob, but found Jeremy was
holding it from the other side, so it wouldn't turn.  "Let
me come in and play," she said to the door.  The only sound
in reply was her aunt talking merrily on the telephone.   
"Fine," Shirley said.  "I'll go play by myself.  But you
have to come out soon – your ma's gonna spank you!"

"She won't," Jeremy's muffled voice said from the other side
of the door.  "She's afraid to, 'cause she knows I won't cry
even if she does!   'Cause I'm too tough!  And then she'd
look stupid."

Shirley thought how much her bare-bottomed spanking had
hurt.  "You will too cry," she said through the door.  "
'Cause she'd gonna spank you on your bare heinie, and that
hurts a lot!"

"I won't,"  Jeremy replied through the door.  "I'm not a
crybaby like a stupid old girl!"

Shirley, now angry herself, stomped off.  He'd cry all right
– she'd make sure his mother spanked him until he'd cried
his eyes out.  She stalked back to the living room,
determined to make sure Jeremy got what he had coming.

But Shirley's aunt was still on the phone.  Shirley stood in
front of her, hopping from one foot to the other in
consternation, until her aunt finally lowered the mouthpiece
a moment and said, "What is it, Shirley!"

"Jeremy said..." Shirley began, but her aunt cut her off. 
"I can't deal with Jeremy right now," she said.  "Why don't
you go play with the button boxes?  I keep them in that
closet."

Shirley brightened.  In those days, everyone had a button
box, full of all kinds of buttons that they'd gotten off of
long forgotten clothing or had purchased for forgotten
projects.  She loved her mother's button collection, some of
which were plain but most of which were extremely ornate and
elaborate.  She'd sort them by color and shape, and choose
her current favorites from the set.  She dashed off to the
indicated closet, opening the door and finding a pair of
cigar boxes each filled to the brim with buttons.  She
settled on the floor behind the couch with them, opening the
lid and gazing on the contents, then beginning to remove
buttons and arrange them on the floor.  Soon she had
forgotten all about the mysterious contents of boys' pants
and watching her cousin get spanked.  She didn't think about
it again until she looked up and discovered her aunt
squatting beside her, gazing fondly at Shirley's rows of
buttons.  "I just took the pies out, " she said.  "We should
probably have lunch soon.  Would you go knock on Jeremy's
door and tell him it's time to wash up for lunch?"

The mention of Jeremy ignited Shirley's memory.  She shot to
her feet.  "Isn't it time for Jeremy to get his spankin'?"
she asked her aunt.  "It's been hours already!   

Her aunt looked at her distractedly.  "What?"  she asked. 
"Jeremy's spankin'!" Shirley said more insistently.  "You
said you'd give him his spankin' when he got home!  On his
bare bottom!"  Her aunt looked at her blankly.  "For being
bad all morning."  Shirley added.  "Remember?  You said
you'd spank his bare bottom!"  She was hopping from one foot
to the other in excitement.  Her aunt pursed her lips and
smiled wanly.

"Oh, I don't think he really needs a spanking," his mother
said, turning toward the kitchen.  "I imagine he's learned
his lesson."

Shirley's face fell.  "That's what he said you'd say," she
said, pouting a little.  "He said spankin's are for girls,
and that you never spank him."

Her aunt put down the magazine, looking at her more
attentively.  "Jeremy said that?" she asked.  "What else did
he say?"

Shirley went on excitedly, loving to tattle on this boy she
was coming to dislike intensely.  "He said he gets away with
everything!  He said that you're afraid to spank him,
because he's too tough and would never cry, and then you'd
just look silly.  And he said that he'd come visit me, and
get me in trouble so I'd get a spankin', and he said he'd
get to see my po-po then!"  She looked at her aunt
quizzically.  "What's a po-po?" she asked.  

"Your po-po is just your bottom, dear," her aunt said
distractedly.  "So he said he gets away with anything, and
that I'm afraid to spank him?"  She looked thoughtful. 
"Perhaps I've been too lax, lately."  She stared into space. 
"You know," she said to Shirley, "I can't remember when I
last spanked him.  Maybe he's gotten too big for his
britches and needs to be taken down a peg or two!"

"Well, I think you ought to spank him!  On his bare bottom! 
He called me a dumb ol' girl!"  Shirley insisted.  "And can
you make him take his pants down?  I wanna see!"

"You want to see?" her aunt said.  "See what?  See him get
spanked, or see him with his pants down?"

"Both," Shirley said decisively.  "Well, mostly the
spankin'.  But I want to see him with his pants down, too!"

"Come now, dear," her aunt said, smiling.  "You must have
seen lots of little boys with their pants down before. 
Jeremy doesn't look any different down there than them."

"Never," Shirley said.  "I never get to see them!  Please,
please let me see!"

"You've never seen what makes boys boys?" her aunt said,
sounding surprised.  "Really?  That's surprising.  But, I
suppose since you're an only child..."  She trailed off,
thinking.  "I've never felt little boys should have secrets
from little girls, you know.  It's important that a girl
know what's what!  And perhaps I do need to spank him!  The
nerve of him, saying that I couldn't make him cry!  And
acting up like that with all those women watching!"

She stared at Jeremy's door.  "So I can't make you cry,
young man?" she said under her breath.  "We'll just see
about that!"

She walked to the hall and knocked on Jeremy's door.  

"Oh, Jeremy," his mother said sweetly.  "Come here, sweety. 
It's almost lunch time."

The door opened and Jeremy walked out past them.  "Good, I'm
hungry," he said to his mother heading toward the living
room as she followed right behind him.  "What are we
having?"

"You're gonna get a spankin!" Shirley burst out.  Jeremy's
froze, but his reflexes were quick.  He jumped, turned and
started to dash for the kitchen and the outside door to be
found there, aiming to disappear until this all blew over. 
Unfortunately for him, his mother was quick, too, reaching
out and snagging an outstretched arm before he had gone
three feet.  She dragged him, scrabbling and trying to tug
himself loose, back toward the couch.  

"Noooooo! I don't want a spankin'!" Jeremy wailed.  He
caught sight of Shirley, grinning from ear to ear as his
mother sat down, dragging him to stand in front of her. 
"Not in front of her!  She's a girl!"  he wailed.

"She's a girl you should have apologized to when you had the
chance," his mother said.  "Now it's too late!"  She grabbed
him with both hands and pulled him to her, an easy task
because he was reasonably small for a 9-year-old.  Jeremy
continued to struggle.

"Hold still and stop fighting me," his mother said.  "Or
I'll make your spanking longer and harder!"  Jeremy
continued struggling.  

"But she'll seeee meeee!" he wailed indignantly.

"So?" his mother snapped back, still wrestling with him. 
"What's the big deal?  It's not like you've got anything
much there, anyway?  You're just a little boy – a little boy
who's gotten too big for his britches!  She glared at him
angrily as the two struggled.  "So you go around telling
people I never spank you, huh?  You tell them you can get
away with anything!  You think I can't make you cry!  We'll
see about that!"

Shirley was dancing with glee, her heart pounding with
excitement.  She was gonna see a boy get spanked!  A real
boy! A real, naked boy!  She could hardly wait!