ON THE SET

"DAAAAAAAAAAAD" Emma called from her bedroom.

Aside her, her best friend Sammie laughed and pushed her off the bed. "Dork," she teased. Emma bopped her with a nearby pillow and giggled with her.

Downstairs, Alan rolled his eyes vigorously as he heard the yell. He stood up from the sofa where he had been sitting for the last two hours, running through yet another script he was going to refuse because it was overly stupid, and climbed the stairs to Emma’s room. He heard the typical girl-giggling sound even before opening the door, and could tell the two teenagers were up to something. Like always, after all.

"Can’t you use the intercom?" he said, prying the door open and peeking in. "We spent hundreds of pounds on that darn thing. What’s the matter anyway... oh hi Sammie, didn’t know you were here."

"Hello Mr. Rickman," said the pretty redhead, smiling and waving.

Emma giggled. "Will you take us to the pool pleeeeeease?" she begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. "Pretty please please please?" she repeated, joining her hands in front of her as in prayer. Alan noticed how she was afraid to lose her dignity when spanked but did not hesitate doing so when asking for something she loved!

Of course, Sammie followed suit: "Yeah, please Mr. Rickman?"

He grunted. "Em, I really need to work, and you know how I hate to be in crowded places. Can’t you go by yourselves?" he begged, himself, more than asking.

"No, we need like a ride, and like... like money," Sammie pointed out, blushing a little, and so did her best friend.

Alan nodded. "Money. You’re stuffed with piggy bank, kids..." he was about to lecture them on the value of money, but knew it was a losing battle so he finally rolled his eyes and gave up. "Okay, I’ll take you, but: behave, am I clear?" he said, looking at Emma, mostly.

Emma blushed. "Yes dad, crystal clear, don’t be so uptight, okay? You can like.... sit in a chair and read." She jumped up from the floor and squeezed him tight, receiving a half-convinced hug back. "Thanks! Now get out so we can change!" She and Sammie practically shoved him out the door

"Okay, okay," he said, raising hands, smiling a bit and letting the two enthusiastic teenagers push him out of the room. When they had something on their mind, there was just no calling the shots.

Alan himself went to get ready, putting all his work stuff – the script, his case with pencils and pens for taking notes, his Palm Pilot and cell phone – in a small case and wearing some sport jacket and of course sunglasses, which usually made it harder for people to recognise him in public, something he had never quite got used to despite the many years spent as a well-known actor.

Some fifteen minutes later, the girls yelled ‘We’re ready!!’ and bounced downstairs to wait by the door, dressed in their swimsuits, two pairs of rather skimpy two-pieces bikini with all sorts of drawings on them. Alan was already sitting on the living room couch, car keys in hand, waiting.

"And about time," he said. "Are you please going to put on at least a pair of shorts till we get to the pool? We don’t want to get arrested if you walk around like that, you know."

"How about T-shirts?" Emma asked, rolling her eyes and pulling two large, very long and loose T-shirts out of her beach bag. Sammie nodded and giggled as she saw them, since they were sporting the handsome face of the blonde Orlando Bloom. "Legolas... sweet" she beamed, and exchanged a funny look with Emma.

"I see," Alan said, looking at that pseudo-actor Bloom grinning from the shirts front, and he grimaced. "Let’s go," he said, and led them to the car.

"You don’t like our T-shirts, Mr. Rickman?" Sammie asked as they walked outside in the London misty but strangely warm afternoon, riding the car in the back seat beside Emma.

"‘Course not, dork, he’s a guy, he doesn’t like Orlando Bloom," Emma pointed out. "He’s like... competition or something, ya know?"

"Ohhhhhhh, like right!" Sammie replied, smacking her own forehead, and both of them dissolved in yet another wave of giggles.

Alan was about to start the car, but upon hearing such comments he turned around and faced them. "For your information, I was playing Richard III at the Royal Albert Hall when Mr. and Mrs. Bloom were putting baby Orlando in diapers," he said, not without a certain satisfaction. "You’re damn right it’s competition," and with that he started the car.

The girls just giggled at him crazily, both madly fans of the hot elf, and thought Alan was just being silly. "Well, dad, would you have played an elf?" Emma brought up. Sammie giggled harder, having the time of her life.

As he drove through the crowded London streets, Alan shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Not for all the tea in China. Those ears... like a Vulcan..." he complained, but he would have liked to, actually, to have been a part of The Lord of the Rings franchise. Not that he’d ever admit it.

"Vulcans RULE!" Sammie yelled.

"So do Shakespearean actors, my dear Samantha," he said, a note of pride in his voice.

"Bah, Shakespeare gives me an uber headache, too crazy to read. I buy cliff notes," she retorted.

"Can you imagine giving a play on cliff notes?" Emma said, making them laugh yet again.

It seemed that what teenage girls did best was giggle so much it could drive a person into a padded cell – and that’s right where Alan sometimes wished he would be, when in their presence. Plus, the mention of cliff notes only made him grimace even more... did culture have a place at all in these girls’ lives?? Oh well. He himself only cared for fun as a teenager.

"Yes, well, your Orlando-something wouldn’t be able even to do that," he retorted, causing another wave of boos and smart remarks from the girls.

After less than ten minutes, they eventually got to the pool parking lot, and Alan stopped the engine, satisfied they could finally get out of the care. "C’mon, and remember: be-have", he spelled.

The girls rolled their eyes but nodded, then took off running, waiting excitedly for him at the entrance to the huge pool, smelling the goodies from the treat stands. Much less enthusiastically, Alan reached the front doors and walked in. He presented the membership card at the counter, and the guy behind it was about to say that it covered him and Emma only and Sammie had to pay a daily fee, but a woman in her forties with way too much make-up on her face nudged him and whispered: "You crazy? That’s Alan Rickman there! Hello sir, please, come in! No problem at all," she said, totally flatteringly, and Alan gave her a polite smile though he would’ve wanted to groan.

Behind him, Emma and Sammie giggled, and Sammie whispered something in Emma’s ear which made the girl blush and giggle even more.

"Cool, thanks man," Sammie said to Alan, handing him her money.

"We’ll find you for lunch, k, dad?"

"Okay, no problem."

The girls took off, removing their T-shirts, abandoning their bags on the locker rooms floor and diving into the pool, just a couple of feet from the big "NO DIVING" sign.

"Have fun, and don’t..." Alan saw them splash into the water "... dive." He sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

The lifeguard, a young stud in his twenties, cast him a side look, to which he replied raising a hand, as to say ‘it won’t happen again’. After that, he really did sit on a chair aside the pool and started browsing through his script once again, and for a while he took his mind off the present situation. Emma and Sammie entertained themselves with a loud game of Marco Polo in the water, adding splashes and laughter. Alan tried to concentrate on his reading, though it was hard with all the noise coming from the pool. Still, he saw the girls were having fun and was okay with that, though they seemed a bit too "vivacious" for other people’s tastes. He cast a narrow look towards Emma once. His daughter responded by playfully sending a spray of water his way, then diving once more into the pool, narrowly missing Sammie, who accidentally threw her beach ball, smacking some little kid in the head who began to cry.

From his favoured position not far from the pool border, Alan saw everything and shook his head, getting to his feet.

"Emma, Samantha, please!" he yelled, noticing again how the lifeguard was looking their way. "Can’t you just pay more attention?"

"Sorry!!" they yelled, swimming around some more, leaving the crying kid behind before the parent of said kid decided to yell their ears off.

Sighing and shaking head, Alan sat again. He did not like the way things were going. He had specifically told the girls to behave, and they were just being brats. He hoped that would be the last of it, and resumed reading.

But his prayers were to remain unanswered, for fifteen minutes later the girls appeared in front of him... dragged by the lifeguard.

"They dived... again" the lifeguard glared, "and they were running. They can, like, read, right?"

Alan sighed big time, and stood from his chair, looking at the quite upset, still dripping water girls. "How many times did I tell you?" he snapped.

Emma cringed and Sammie became interested in how well her nails were painted, definitely not wanting to look up at his face.

Turning to the lifeguard, Alan said. "I’m sorry for the inconvenience... it will not happen again."

"Well, one more rule breaker, and they have to leave. People are complaining, and we can’t lose the business. Sorry, Mr. Rickman, but they have to behave better, this is their last chance."

Alan gave a stern look to both Emma and Sammie. "It is indeed. Any more nonsense and we’re going, and you are not going to like that," he said, mostly looking towards his daughter.

Emma squeaked, and nodded, knowing what it meant.

"Food?" Sammie dared to ask.

"Yes, we’d better. C’mon, let’s take a trip to the bar," and he motioned them towards it.

The girls went over, dripping as they went. Emma was consciously trying to stay an arms length away from Alan, just to make sure he didn’t try and swat her for a warning, and indeed Alan *was* tempted to do that to them both, in order to give them a ‘sound’ warning, but there were people all around and he didn’t want to. They ate sandwiches standing at the counter, and again he reminded them they would have to be good from now on.

"We’re sorry, really," said Emma. "We were just having fun anyway."

After lunch, Sammie, obviously not the less smart of the two – or maybe the most careless – took off running. Emma grabbed her to slow her down, but both slipped and fell into the pool, right on top of a fat old man lounging on an inner tube, who was *very* displeased at being pounced upon!

This time there was no need for a lifeguard to intervene – though one did anyway – because Alan had seen it all. He gestured to the boy that it was alright, and he motioned for Emma and Sammie to get out of the pool.

"Out, both of ya! I beg your pardon, sir," he said to the man, "it will not happen again."

"Well for God’s sake I hope not!!" he yelled in a strong London accent.

Emma and Sammie scrambled out of the pool, and nearly collided into Alan, who was looking decidedly displeased.

The lifeguard looked none too happy, either: "I’m sorry sir, I had warned you," the lifeguard said.

"I know, I know," said Alan. "We’re going," and he ushered both girls out to the locker rooms.

"Sorry?" Sammie offered in a squeak. Emma kept her mouth shut, knowing she was in trouble.

As soon as they reached the (luckily deserted, at least for the moment) lockers, Alan looked at them both, hands on his sides, a stern expression painted on his face.

"I sure hope you both are sorry," he scolded. "Do you have any idea what mess you’ve been causing since we got here? You did nothing but being a pain in the butt to everyone for like two hours."

"I’m sorry dad," Emma sniffled, genuinely ashamed of herself.

Sammie nodded. "Me too, don’t be mad! We didn’t mean any harm, really"

"Emma, not as sorry as you are going to be," he said, resorting to the old-fashioned but always efficient threat. "And that’s way too late for that, Sammy. I’m mad already."

Emma whimpered, her hands going back to hold her bottom. She knew perfectly well that that threat always, always and forever meant a very sound spanking coming her way. Even Sammie looked worried that he might give her a smack too.

"But... but... but..." Emma’s young friend stuttered.

Alan looked around, and saw the locker rooms were in fact deserted. He might as well do it right now and get it over with, rather than having Emma wait till they got home.

"Emma, you’re in for a good spanking, right here," he said. "Samantha, I’m not your tutor so it’s not up to me, but you can decide whether to get a spanking as well or have me tell your parents what happened this afternoon."

"HERE?" Emma shrieked, looking at him in disbelief and shaking her head. Sammie looked frightened: if she had to tell her parents, it would be a two-weeks grounding to say the least.

"I guess..." Sammie whimpered, holding her bottom now too, out of pure instinct more than reason.

"Yes, right here," he said. "Or would you rather wait till tonight, hmm?" Then, addressed to Sam. "Is that your choice, Samantha? Please note you are going to receive the same treatment as Emma, and that is a bare bottomed spanking over my lap with my hand."

Sammie nodded. "I think I’d rather, then I won’t get grounded," she whispered in a meek, tiny voice, staring at the ground, not looking very sure. Emma just whimpered and clutched her bum.

"Fine, then." Alan nodded, and took a deep breath. He was kind of sure the Turtledoves wouldn’t even whine about it if he spanked Sammie, but it was still something he rather wouldn’t tell.

"Daddy, not here," Emma begged. "What if someone walks in?"

"Then they will just see what happens to girls who are totally disrespectful of others," he said.

"Daddy, please, you can’t!"

He shook his head. "I can and I will. Samantha, go sit on that bench and wait." He himself took a sit, on a bench lined against the opposite wall, and pointed at the floor in front of him. "Come here Emma." He had a quite stern, matter-of-fact, don’t-argue-with-me expression on his face.

Emma knew that look all too well, and knew she had better not protest in order not to worsen her situation, so she scampered to where he pointed. "I love you daddy, I’m sorry," she whimpered.

"I love you too Emmy, but this is something you need to remember," and with that he lowered her bikini bottoms to her knees. They were wet and heavy, and easily fell to her ankles. "Over," he said.

Her face flamed redder then ever before, and she quickly stepped out of her slips and went over his lap, to spare herself more embarrassment. Not that it worked, anyway: nothing could take her mind off the fact that she was naked, if not for the bikini bra.

Alan adjusted her body over his lap, but he couldn’t help but looking at Sammie, who was watching with a half-awed, half-horrified expression, chewing her fingernails. He could only imagine what was going through the mind of that girl, who had heard of Emma being spanked for almost a month now, and was now witnessing it first-person.

"I told you several times to behave, Emma," he scolded. "I’m sorry you didn’t listen." He raised his hand and brought it down sharply (crack!) across her wet backside, leaving a distinct hand-print.

"AAAAAA!" she shrieked. She had never been spanked on a wet bottom before. "Ouch, daddy that hurts the worst!" she wailed.

"Yes it does," he stated, simply, and delivered another swat to her bottom, not very hard but still firm, and saw another hand-print appear.

Emma kicked her legs. "OUCH!" She couldn’t believe how much more it hurt than when spanked on a dry bottom.

Alan kept up the rhythm, giving her one swat per second, of moderate intensity. He saw her bum cheeks redden way faster than usual, and getting drier and drier spank after spank.

It took Emma less than ten smacks to lose her resolution and quickly dissolve into tears, kicking wildly. "I’m sooooooooooorry!" she wailed. "Hurrrrrrrrrrrrrts!"

Quite unmoved by her shrieks, Alan kept it up, spanking her thoroughly, from top of the buttocks down to middle-thighs. After thirty smacks or so, he stopped. Emma had gone limp around the twentieth, and was just bawling and clutching his leg, her bottom throbbing of a nasty sting. Alan noticed how red her backside was; usually he would’ve spanked her twice as much, but he also considered that she was wet, so he stopped and let her up.

All modestly forgotten, Emma bounced around, holding her red cheeks and wailing, doing a great version of the ‘well-spanked-child’ dance. Watching her, Alan couldn’t help a slight smirk, but mostly he was watching at Sammie, who was now tearing up already after having seen how Mr. Rickman carried on his ‘talks’ to Emma. Alan wondered if she was having second thoughts.

Truth was, Sammie wasn’t having second thoughts, she was having eighth and ninth and tenth thoughts, mainly on that she was scared beyond belief. She could barely believe her eyes, seeing just how red her best friend’s petite bottom looked, and how much pain she seemed to be in.

Finally Emma stopped dancing around and howled as she collected her bikini bottoms and raised them up, and then threw herself into Alan’s arms. "I’m sorry daddy, I love you," she whimpered.

Hugging his daughter, Alan rubbed her still damp back and held her tight to him. "There, there, sweetheart... I know you are, honey, it’s alright. I love you my little Emmy," he said, kissing her forehead and comforting her. He stressed a bit on the terms of endearment, because he wanted Sammie to see how forgiving he was after the spanking, so she would not think he was mean.

Sammie watched as he held Emma tight and rocked her slightly, talking soft to her. Emma had always said he did that afterwards, but she didn’t think she could ever hug someone who had just made her hurt! The contrast resulted weird in her brain, and at the same time, strangely comforting.

"Next time, just be a little more careful, okay?" Alan said in her ear, but not whispering enough so that Sammie couldn’t hear. "I love you, sweetie. Why don’t you go take your shower now, hmm? Or just sit there and wait."

"Sit?" she squeaked. That made Sammie glare at him; imagine sitting after that!

"I was teasing you," he smiled, and kissed both of her face cheeks. "I think you’d rather stand."

Emma nodded and hugged him tight, kissing his cheek, then picked up a towel from his beach bag and walked off towards the showers, casting a look to Sammie. Her best friend paled, realizing that it was now her turn.

Alan followed Emma with his eyes until she disappeared into the shower boxes, making sure she was okay. Then he inhaled deeply, sighed, and turned his attention to Sammie, motioning her over to him. "Come on, child."

Sammie stood slowly, still chewing on her thumbnail, and shuffled over to him. "I... I...." she didn’t know what to say, so she only stuttered. "I’ve never been spanked before!" she then blurted out

He nodded, and took her hands, trying to sound soothing in the way he spoke. "Are you still determined to do it, Sam? It’s not too late, you know."

She had bitten nearly all her nails off, and they felt rough against his hand. "I don’t wanna get grounded for two weeks, I’d miss Emma. She’s my best friend. Other people think I’m weird," she whispered, "just cuz I was born in America and lived there for a while, you know? Emma’s never been mean, she was my first friend at school, and it’s just, like, you know, *wrong-ness* to go a whole day without like talking with her on the phone." She kept her eyes on her bare feet, scared and embarrassed. "I like her too much and I can’t stand to be a lot of time without seeing her."

Alan listened intently to all that Sammie had to say. Most of it was rather unimportant at the moment, but he still let her speak, because he knew it was making her feel more comfortable with the situation, in a way. He understood her reasons, and she was all the quite-mature young girl that she looked, a bit naive perhaps, but very clever.

"I understand why you don’t want a grounding. And I’m not going to tell your parents that you misbehaved in the pool, don’t worry. I’ll simply tell Annie you two were vivacious, that’s all. But do you realise why you and Emma need a punishment? Do you agree to that?" he said, wanting it to make sure from minute one that it was understood why she was about to be bared and spanked.

"I guess so...." she whispered. Sammie burst into nervous tears, having no idea what to really expect, even though she had just seen Emma’s spanking, that was still different then experiencing your own. And it had been her fault they had fallen on the fat man after all, so she also felt like she deserved one much more than her best friend.

"Fine, then," Alan said, brushing her damp hair with a hand. "Samantha Marie Turtledove, you’ve seen Emma get her spanking, so you know where to go," and he leant slightly backwards to allow her access to his lap."

Sammie kept crying and she shuffled to move across his lap, gasping as she slipped and his knee went into her stomach. "Like OW!" she shouted, moving around so that his knee was moved and her hands could touch the floor. She was taller then Emma by four inches, and of a slightly stronger build, so it was a different positioning for her then for her smaller friend.

"I’m sorry," said Alan as Sammie squirmed uncomfortable, then helped her get into a better position. When she was properly positioned, he circled her waist with his arm – knowing she would squirm much more than Em – and prepared to lower her bikini bottoms. "This spanking is going to be on your bare bum," he said. "Do you understand?"

Sammie nodded and stuttered a ‘uh-huh’, her whole body tense, tears flowing down her face. Alan would have wanted and expected a ‘yes sir’ out of Emma, but had no intention to push her friend to say anything of the like; he wasn’t his father, after all. Still, he lost no time, and as he heard the water run in the showers where Emma was, he peeled down Sammie’s wet swimsuit, revealing her milky-white, full bottom. He took aim, raised his hand and brought it down with medium force on her right cheek.

The thirteen-year-old screamed and started squirming to get away. Alan had predicted something like that, and kept her close with her arm, then quickly swatted her other cheek (smack!) where a similar red handprint appeared.

Sammie kept crying, and her hands flew back to cover her bottom. "Stop please, hurts really bad, please, enough!"

Restraining her hands with his free one, gently but firmly, Alan remembered that it was a first time for this child, so he said: "It is supposed to hurt, Sammie, it is a spanking. And I’m far from over yet, so grit your teeth and be strong, okay?"

"Don’t wanna," she wailed. "You’re hurting me, meanie!" she said, squirming with all her might.

Sighing, Alan kept her close to his own body; Sammie was stronger than Emma but still no match for him. He flung his right leg across hers, keeping her in place. "I’m sorry, Sam, but there is no backing out now." He raised his hand again and started spanking in a steady rhythm. "It’s for your own good, child," whack whack whack

Sammie screamed and cried and begged for him to stop, but it didn’t last long, since she wore out quickly, and her squirming began to slow down. Alan spanked her just like he had spanked Emma, covering her bottom and thighs with red hand-prints all over. He loosened his grip a bit when he sensed she was giving up resisting, and kept it up.

After a dozen spanks on her wet bottom, Sammie gave up and stopped squirming, just shuddering and crying out with each swat. By the twentieth swat, Alan saw just how sorry and sore Sammie was, but he had to be fair, and wanted this to be a truly important lesson to her, so he continued until the thirty smack was delivered. Then he stopped, and let Sammie cry out over his lap.

"There, there... it’s over, shh..."

Sammie was completely distraught and broken, not even able to think of words to say as she cried her heart out over his lap. Never had she experienced such hurt, especially on her butt!

Not quite knowing how to behave, Alan just sat, in silence, rubbing Samantha’s back until she would ease down her crying. "You can get up when you wish, there is no hurry," he said.

Slowly she calmed down enough to be able to stand and raise her bikini bottoms with a shriek of pain when the tissue made contact with her totally sore backside. Sammie couldn’t even look at him, it was so awkward, and it was horrible for her. Alan stood as well, feeling sorry for the poor girl but knowing he had been fair and done the right thing. He outstretched his hand to caress her hair, not sure what her reaction to that would be. Sammie cringed, but didn’t move away.

"Are you okay?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question, but also hoping she would understand the reason behind it.

Sammie shook her head no. She hadn’t felt worse in her life. Okay, that was over stating it, but she felt horrible, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Sighing, he sat again, and again took her hands, looking up at her. "Sam, honey... you are very important to Emmy, she always talks about you, and hence you’re important to me. Please, try and understand that I had to be fair, because if I had spanked her only, you would’ve felt even worse towards your best friend. Don’t you think so?"

For some strange reason, this made sense to Sammie, and the feelings of hate she was feeling towards him and that whole darn situation started to fade. She nodded. "I woulda felt real guilty... and, like... do you really like me?"

He nodded with her. "Yes, that’s right, you would, and this way, it’s all over now. And of course I like you. You should see Emma’s face when I give her permission to sleep over at your place, she’s radiant. She really enjoys being with you."

Meanwhile, Emma had finished with her shower, and, wrapping a towel around herself, was about to step back in the locker rooms, but he saw dad and Sammie talking, and she didn’t wish to interrupt, so she stood and waited, trying to listen.

Sammie giggled. "Emma’s my crazy twin-ness, we are a lot alike. She’s uber coolies. I guess it’s my fault if we got a spanking, huh."

"I don’t know whose fault it is, but you both deserved what you got, don’t you think?"

Again, Sammie nodded, quite compliant now. "Can I have a hug?" she asked timidly, blushing and feeling quite silly to be asking of this to her best friend’s father.

But Alan smiled and opened his arms. "Of course you can, if you want to. Don’t feel compelled to just because Emma did, though."

Sammie hugged him tight, rubbing her bottom with one hand. "I hated that, it’s mean," she whispered, referring to the spanking.

He hugged her and rubbed her back. "I’m sorry about that, but it’s the whole point. And it’s not mean, Sammie, it’s just strict. Emma learnt that acting up earns her a sore backside, and that has improved her behaviour a lot, you know? And I want you to know that when you’re at our house, you can expect the same, just as I would trust your parents to deal with my daughter."

"Bah, Emma’s good, they never scold her or nothing, just tell her she’s loud, like me," Sammie sniffled. "I don’t like spankings, but... I guess you aren’t mean. And I do like you, you’re rather cool most of the time, even if you *are* jealous of Orlie."

"Well," Alan said. "Nobody’s perfect."

Sammie smiled, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and stood up. She looked around for Emma, who walked back into the room, and the girls hugged each other tight, sniffling together, and did not want to let go for quite a while.

"Is this..." Sammie fought to find the right words to express what she wanted to say. "I mean, is it usually... err..."

"Yes," said Emma, and her friend nodded. They broke their hug after a while, and looked sheepishly towards Alan.

He smiled at what he was seeing, then shook his head, thinking how teenage girls have a logic of their own and that’s often barely understandable to "the old ones" like him. He was glad, though, to see them hugging and comforting each other, and felt that they were going to be just fine in the end.

"Shall we go, girls? Or would you rather walk home?" he said, not without a wee smile.

"Can we have ice cream?" they asked in unison. Also that seemed to never change about teenage girls: giggles, twisted logic, weird sense of priority, crushes on studs, ice-creams. Girls just wanna have fun, after all, he thought to himself, and that was perfectly fine with him. Again, he thought that as a boy he and his mates were just like that, and they had paid their price for that as well.

"And we don’t want to walk," Sammie stated.

"Umm... ice-cream to eat? Or for your buns?" he said, winking, earning a couple of groans and making them rub their bummies more energetically. "Just teasing you, of course you can. And I just thought I would suggest that about the walk, since the car’s seats aren’t very well padded, you know. But then again, you insisted not to wear shorts, so some redness would show on your thighs under those shirts, you know."

The girls cringed at the though, and quickly pulled on their T-shirts, trying to make them a little longer than they were, though of course they did not succeed. Each girl grabbed one of Alan’s hands, dragging him along.

"Weeeeeeeee’re off to see the wizard!..." Sammie started.

"... the wonderful wizard of Oz!" Emma added, as she and Sammie kept singing.

Alan shook his head and allowed himself to be dragged. These two were quite a pair, but they were good girls, considering what they could be doing and what many teenagers their age in the world were doing at that same time, getting in serious trouble with their families, their mates, even with the law. Those two just wanted to have innocent fun, though they could get quite mischievous at times, and if a spanking here and there kept them that way, so be it.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan