JOSIE

BY YOCOPYCAT

[ part 4 ]

Pam met me at the door that Friday evening with a conspiratorial wink.

“You told the little brat not to wear any panties?” she said. The little brat in question was her cute little eight year old step-daughter Josie. “Well, I made her wear them, and I done a couple of other things, so you got a great excuse to give her a real good thrashing.”

“Meaning you can’t pay the rent?”

“’Fraid not.” But she was grinning. She knew very well that I preferred the use of Josie to receiving the rent for the house. “No fucking chance. As a matter of fact I got a favour to ask, but that can wait.” She wanted me in a generous mood then, and she certainly knew how to go about it.

When I entered the living room I could see Josie’s agitation immediately as she came running to me and gave me a kiss. It was a desperate sort of kiss, jumping up, legs round my waist, arms round my chest, meaning she knew she was in trouble, a plea for mercy.

“So!” I said. “What is that for? Have you been naughty?”

She said nothing as I put her down, just stood there blushing, holding the dress down at her sides. It was very short, but the forbidden panties were hidden, just. Her hair had been cut, as I had instructed. It was very short indeed. I think it is called the pageboy cut. Anyway, I was pleased to see that it seemed to make her look younger and more vulnerable than before.

“You should have the hairbrush for me,” I said. “In case I have to spank you.”

“Yes I know.” A quavering little voice. “Mummy locked it up.”

“Oh! So you are going to blame your Mother! You know what happened when you said things about me!”

She started to cry as Pam stepped forward.

“The key is on the mantelpiece,” she said. “As the fucking little bitch should have known.”

“There you are,” I said. “Let that be a lesson. Don’t go blaming your Mother for things that are your fault. I shall have to beat you now, which is a lot of bother when I wanted a nice quiet evening. Go fetch it then.”

She went on tiptoe to get the key, then over to the chest of drawers to get the hairbrush. When she handed it to me I said: “When you fetch something for me to beat you with, you will kiss it first and then curtsey before you give it to me.”

Her attempt at a curtsey was quite charming.

“Now,” I said, “I really hope you have not done anything else naughty?”

Still she said nothing, just bit her lip and stood there the picture of guilt, looking even more unhappy. Her tear filled blue eyes flitted to the whip over the fireplace.

“Why did you look at the whip?” I demanded. “Is it because you think I ought to whip you?”

“Oh no!”

“What, then? Have you polished it every day?”

Renewed tears. “I – I couldn’t reach it!”

“You should have asked your Mother to get it down.”

“I did! I did! She said don’t bother me with that you fucking little bitch!”

“I see,” I said grimly. “So that is your Mother’s fault too! What an ungrateful child you are, after all she has done for you. And you remember what happened when you said things about me? Saying things about your own Mother is worse! We are going to need the belt as well, so go fetch it.”

She was really sobbing now, as she kissed the belt and presented it to me with her attempt at a curtsey.

“We may need the whip as well,” I said. “I haven’t decided yet. Let’s hope you don’t do anything else naughty! Now, in the corner with you.”

She went to the corner and faced into it. There was a long long delay, then she raised her dress to reveal the forbidden panties and stood there shaking with fright. No accusation was necessary. She knew she was well and truly in the shit. She peeled them off and dropped them on the floor beside her. Her whole body heaved with her sobs, but she managed not to make any noise.

I went over with the belt and caressed those quivering buttocks with it. “What is your excuse this time? I hope you are not going to blame your Mother?”

She glanced round in mute appeal, but Pam had gone to the kitchen. “I – I suppose I forgot.”

“Liar!” I shouted. Another hard blow. “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes.” Another pathetic look for her Mother. “I – the dress was too short.”

“So,” I said, “on top of everything else you deliberately disobeyed an order from me. I will not tolerate that. I have been very lenient with you so far, and this is the reward I get! You shall be well and truly whipped, my girl. A proper one, this time.”

I shouted for Pam, and she returned to say that dinner was very nearly ready.

“Very well,” I said. “But please put this ungrateful little liar into her whipping clothes first.”

The ‘whipping clothes’ consisted of nothing at all but a rope round her naked waist to which her wrists were tied so that they were fixed by her hips. This left the entire body naked and open for whipping. And I liked the new hair style. Nothing to get hold of any more, but nice because it made her look, at the moment, even more naked than she was. An illusion of course, but a pleasing one.

It was not a happy meal for little Josie, but a great one for me, as I cut up her food and fed her and gave her a sip or two of wine.

“Is it just a whipping tonight?” asked Pam.

“Well no,” I said. “there is also the matter of not giving me the hairbrush – I think the hairbrush itself will do for that. And for not polishing the whip, I suppose the belt, if I am very severe with it.”

“It might be better not to do all that today.”

“True.”

“And next weekend Josie and I shall be away visiting my Sister.”

“Oh dear. That is inconvenient. Do you really want to take Josie?”

“Not at all. She is just a fucking little pest. But I can’t leave her alone.”

“I can stay here and look after her,” I said. “If that will help?”

“Why that would be ever so kind of you. And maybe you can lend me a little spending money as well as the fare? I ought to buy a present for my Sister and her kids, well and her boyfriend. As a matter of fact it’s her birthday and I’d like to stand them all a slap-up meal. And Josie’s haircut was ever so expensive and she needs some new shoes and I must stock up with food before I go.”

I didn’t believe much of that, of course, but if she fancied a weekend at a hotel at my expense I was willing to go along with it. It was cheap for the use of Josie. A whole week, just the two of us! My mouth watered at the thought.

“Well, Josie,” I said, “here’s the plan. I will give you your hairbrush spanking tonight, and we will save the belt and the whip for another time. Unless you would you rather have them all tonight?”

She jumped into my arms and started kissing me. “Not tonight,” she said. “Please not now, no whipping tonight.”

“But you are roped up, all ready for whipping.”

“Not now!” she sobbed. “Oh please, not now! You can rope me up again easy.”

“Or,” interjected Pam, “I will prepare her before I go. Here is a spare key. Just come in when you are free and she will be ready.”

“Very well,” I said. That was also to stop her from running away, I thought. ”Did her father keep her like that for long, then?”

“Oh yes, all weekend sometimes, if he was on a binge.”

Her father had died of drink, I remembered. Josie was much better off with me. “Ok,” I said to Pam. I turned to Josie. “Fetch the hairbrush.”

She just stood looking at me. No arms. But of course the hairbrush was there on the table beside me. She gave me a pleading kiss full of despair and crawled onto my lap, bottom up, already crying. She was getting very obedient, I thought. Soon she would be the ideal little slave girl of my dreams.

I spanked her with the flat side of the hairbrush until she was pinker than ever before, and then turned it round to the sharp bristles. Did she howl! And did she wriggle! Superb! I had to gag her before I could proceed. I do not agree with unnecessary cruelty, but occasionally one does get carried away a little.