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JOSIE [ part 6 ] When Josie saw my car, she was really amazed. I have a Jaguar. A little up-market for a security guard, you may say. But I had already resigned that job. It had achieved its purpose the moment I entered into my arrangement with Josie’s unscrupulous step-mother, Pam, that put the child into my power. I don’t need a job at all, just a child like eight-year-old Josie to mould to my liking. On the way I stopped at an ATM to draw some money. I thought it wiser not to leave a trail by paying for our meal with a credit card. Josie was very intrigued. “How can you get money out of the wall, Uncle Jim?” I was Uncle Jim all the time now, it seemed. Anyway, I stopped at another ATM and allowed her to draw some money. I think her respect for me was rising rapidly as she fingered the crisp new notes. “Shall we give these to my Mummy?” “Sure, why not.” I was sure that Pam would be delighted! She is truly money orientated. When we pulled up outside the posh restaurant I had promised her, Josie was totally overawed. “Oh Uncle Jim, I can’t go in there!” “Why not?” “Well – well I really like these jeans you bought for me, and the jersey too, but –“ “But you think you should wear a dress?” “Oh yes please – my party dress.” “Right,” I said, “we’ll go back and change. I may as well smarten up a bit too.” So I put on a jacket and tie and Josie her best party dress. She was really excited and twirled around as I inspected her. “You put your panties on!” I said accusingly. “Well of course, for going out I have to.” “Oh no,” I said, “what day is it?” “Friday.” “And what is the rule for Fridays?” “No panties.” “Well then. Take them off and hop in the car.” “I won’t!” I reached for the hairbrush, which I kept conveniently handy. “I mean I will,” she said, dropping them. “There’s no need to get heavy, Uncle Jim. But I must change dresses. This one is very short.” “You must change it?” “Yes.” I took her over my knee, picked up the hairbrush and flipped up her dress to expose that inviting little bottom that always quivered in fearful anticipation when I did that. “You” slap “are” slap “not” slap “allowed” slap “to” slap “argue” slap “with” slap “me.” Slap, slap, slap. I set her on her feet. “What were you saying?” I asked. “Do you have a problem with the dress?” “Oh no, Uncle Jim, it’s fine.” She put her nose in the air and marched for the door. The evening was definitely looking up. In the short dress and with the cat collar I knew that she would be the centre of attraction. Oh yes, I gloated about my virtual ownership of pretty little Josie. She was very quiet on the drive to the restaurant. “I will not have you sulking,” I said. “Cheer up or get a double whipping when we get home.” “I think you mean that, Uncle Jim.” “I do, kid,” I said. “You better believe it!” So I entered the restaurant with a smiling young girl on my arm, and, sure enough, every head turned as we walked between the tables. We were seated at a table for two without any problems, and Josie seemed to be enjoying the meal. She chatted away, apparently untroubled by the rubbernecks around us. I showed her which knives and forks to use, and let her choose her own food. As usual, she had a sip or two of my wine, and we started a running commentary of the other diners and what animals they resembled. Then I sprung my trap. “I think I will spank you now,” I said casually. “Oh Uncle Jim! You can’t spank me here!” She was horrified. She looked round and flushed. “Oh no!” “I can. Over my knee. Now!” She looked round again wildly. “Must I really?” I nodded. “I won’t!” she shouted, jumping to her feet and about to make a dash for it. But I was ready for that and acted even quicker. I hauled her over my knee in a flash, and flipped up her skirt. There was a hush as other diners saw her naked bottom and flailing legs. “Excuse me,” I said, “but we can’t have cheeky children can we?” I held up her squirming bottom for everyone to see. “And look how cheeky this one is!” Someone started laughing, someone else clapping, and others joined in. Nobody tried to stop me as I gave Josie a really good sound spanking. People seldom try to interfere with me. I am very much the intimidating type, large and all that. I am surprised that Josie does not seem to be afraid of me despite the way I treat her. “There!” I said, as I put her on her feet, “go to the ladies room and dry your eyes – I’ve ordered ice-cream for you.” “I hope it’s a strawberry one to match my bottom,” she said out loud, for everyone to hear. It got a round of applause – and my admiration, as she marched away with flaming cheeks, head and tail. She came back calmer, head up in defiance, and everyone, I think, was amused to see her standing up to eat her ice-cream, which she thoroughly enjoyed. I even believe she was beginning to thrive on the attention she was receiving. I was sure of it when she called the waiter over. “Please fetch me another ice cream.” She turned to me. “I think I earned it, Uncle?” Uncle, not Uncle Jim. She had learned her lesson about not talking about me.. After that we both began to enjoy the rest of our evening out. I found a fair still in full swing under the starlight, and bought her endless tickets for rides of various kinds, and she didn’t give another thought to her lack of underwear, though I saw several people notice. One of them, a man almost as big as me, came up to me. “That your kid?” he asked, pointing at Josie, who was riding a horse on a roundabout. “Yes?” “I don’t think she is wearing anything under that little dress.” “Oh dear,” I said, “its quite possible, I’ve had to spank her for that before now.” “Well it doesn’t seem to have worked. Here she comes.” “Josie dear,” I said, as she stood panting before us, “lift up your dress.” She looked round in horror, but did so. She was learning fast. “There, you see,” said the man. “She needs a right good spanking, she does.” “Josie,” I said, “go over this man’s knee.” Another look of horror. “I don’t like him!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare be rude to my friends!” I said. He was taking his belt off. “Over his knee with you sharpish.” She obeyed, and at another look from me she drew back her dress in both hands to expose her defenceless bottom, as she had been taught. “Nice!” exclaimed the man. “I’ll warm her up a bit for you, then shall I?” As soon as she started to yell under the fierce blows from his belt, a crowd began to gather. I wondered what would happen if I passed a hat round. But soon they began to turn nasty and my friend looked to me. “It’s ok,” I said to the crowd. “My daughter was rude to my friend here.” “Yes,” piped up Josie between sobs, “but I won’t ever be rude to daddy’s friends again.” “Enough,” I said to the man. “And thanks for your help.” The man vanished into the crowd, followed by some catcalls and hissing. But Josie saved the situation for me by giving me a hug and a kiss. “Ok, kid,” I said. “We’re going home now.” “Why did you let that nasty man belt me?” “Why not?” I said. “Oh well –“ “I decide who shall beat you,” I said. “OK?” “I suppose so.” We had arrived at the door to her house. “Well, I had a spanking and a belting, so must you really whip me tonight?” she asked. “We’ve had such a lovely time and my bottom is sore and you must be very tired and you have me for the rest of the weekend.” “OK kid,” I agreed, as I locked the street door behind us, “I’m glad you enjoyed the outing. Maybe I will take you to the beach tomorrow.” “Instead of whipping me?” “No, as well as.” “But the beach? You mean I shall see the sea? I never have.” “If you are good. Jeans would be appropriate for that.” “What’s appropriate?” “Means they’d be ok.” “Great! You can let somebody beat me in jeans if you want. It wouldn’t be half so bad.” “They might tell you to take them down,” I said. “Anyway, half an hour of telly and it’s off to bed.” “I’m not allowed to watch television after seven o’clock.” “You are if I am here,” I said, lighting the gas fire. “Go and get ready for bed and then come down.” Two minutes later she was back in distress. “I can’t find any nighties. Mummy must have put them both in the wash.” “Never mind.” I tossed her the jersey. “Take off the dress and put that on.” “Must I take off -” She saw me reach for the hairbrush. “Yes, ok, but what will I sleep in?” “Nothing,” I said. “I don’t mind. As a matter of fact,” I lied, “I forgot my pyjamas, so that will be two of us.” “Oh well,” she said, snuggling up to me on the settee in jersey top only, “I suppose that’s alright then.” |