    
 
 
 
                UNINFORMED AND UNIFORMED

                           by 

               Father Jim and C. Lakewood


THE PLOT CONTINUES TO THICKEN, AS A NEW PLAYER BECOMES A PLAYER.



Part 4

Fred Dobbs, the hotel manager, watched Jennifer cross the road 
and enter the YWCA with keen interest.  He was somewhat let down 
that the woman's daughter had obviously escaped the promised 
spanking, but, when he saw Jennifer returning and read the 
determined expression on her face, he was certain that proper 
retribution was soon to follow.  And follow, it did.

Before Jennifer had even finished re-crossing the street, Fred 
had called his subordinate and excused himself for a break.  He 
slipped upstairs and, using his passkey, let himself into the 
suite adjoining Jennifer's room.  There was a double-doored 
connection between the two rooms that, when closed, afforded 
a great deal of privacy, but, once one of the doors was opened, 
the sounds from the adjoining room left little to the imagination.

He pulled up a chair, leaned his ear to the door, and listened.  
He didn't have to wait long to be rewarded on his hunch.  He heard 
the entire exchange concerning the computer use and leading up to 
the moment Barbie's pants were coming down.  But what he heard next 
sent him for a loop.

Just as Jenny started to unzip Barbie's pants, Barbie decided 
enough was enough.  "Look, this just isn't right.  You can't do 
this!  Jennifer, you simply can't treat your mother like this!"

"Oh, you really did it now, Barbie!  What did I tell you about 
using my first name?"

SMACK! SMACK!

"Okay!  I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm sorry...Mother!"

SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK!

"Alright, alright alright!  I'm sorry, Mommy!  But, please, just 
pull my panties back up.  They hardly offer any protection, and 
it's not right for you to see me this way."

"If I remember correctly, 'you're never too old for a spanking,' 
and 'naughty girls get spanked BARE.'  Right?"

"Yes, M-mommie!"

"Good.  Now, before I start, let's get something straight.  You 
made a deal, and you're going to stick to it, whether you like it 
or not.  I can call Paddywell any time and drop you off there.  Got 
it?  I'm sure they can come up with some ways to make your weekend 
much more unpleasant than what I have planned for you.  So, you 
behave yourself and act the dutiful, obedient daughter you are 
supposed to be, or, so help me, Daddy and I will be visiting you 
on weekends and holidays at Paddywell!"

Fred Dobbs was beside himself.  The wheels in his brain were 
spinning.  "So, I have two little fakes, do I?  Well, we'll just 
have to see what we can do about that."  As hotel manager, he was 
of course very familiar with cheating spouses who used the hotel 
as a love nest, and, with this familiarity, there came a certain 
amount of boredom, more often than not nowadays.  But here was 
something new...different...exciting.  It intrigued him and 
practically demanded he assume a part in this unusual and 
compelling psychodrama.

"Now, Barbie, I'm going to put you over my knee and hand-spank you 
soundly.  If you behave -- and take your spanking like a good 
little girl -- I may go easier on you, but, mark my words, one 
sign of obstinacy out of you, and I'm going to take this slipper 
and give you the tanning of your life, young lady!  Am I 
understood?"

Barbara sniffed back a developing tear, and, with her head down in 
shame, she replied,"Yes, mommie!"

Fred was then treated to quite an audio show.  The spanking started 
slowly at first, and all that was heard was the smacking sounds of 
Jennifer's hand on Barbie's upturned bottom.  But, by the twentieth 
smack, Barbie was beginning to sound desperate.  Soon, each swat 
produced a squeal of anguish...and, soon after, sobbing and 
downright pleading.  He yearned to open the inner door a crack 
and get a look of the goings-on, but he feared discovery and an 
untimely end to Barbie's ordeal.  He was hoping against hope that 
she would rebel and so suffer the slipper, and, sure enough, the 
next smack produced a squeal followed by a string of invectives 
that would have made a sailor blush.

"That is quite enough, Jennifer; I AM your mother!" Barbie managed 
to choke out between sobs.  "I will not get back over your knee.  
This farce has gone on more than long enough!"

"Oh, so the little girl decides when she's had enough punishment, 
then?  NOT!  I'm sorry, but you brought this on yourself."  

Barbie let out a shriek, and a brief struggle ensued, but it ended 
with the sharp sound of leather on skin.  Barbie howled!

"Now, about that language!  When we get home, you're going to tell 
Mr. Peepers just how you were properly punished and ask for his 
forgiveness.  If I even think that you are holding back, so help 
me, I'll let him punish you, himself!"

All the while, the sound of tanned leather connecting with female 
flesh filled the room in counterpoint to Barbie's screams of pain 
and outrage.

"Now, open your mouth!  Yes, that's it, and hold this bar of soap 
in there.  No, don't even think of spitting it out.  If you do 
before I'm finished, I'll start all over again, and I swear you 
won't have a heinie left to sit on!  Now, let's get on with it!"  

Fred was thrilled.  This pseudo-girl, whom he had thought just a 
brat, was now getting the licking of her life from her very own 
daughter, and, he was hearing every detail.

Barbie, for her part, was experiencing the worst day of her life.  
Standing naked from the waist down, she realized that her dampening 
crotch was right at Jenny's eye (and nose!) level.  Then, the 
spanking!  Omigod!  First of all, how could she ever face her 
daughter again?  And second....  She tried to be brave, but she 
hadn't counted on Jenny really doing it, really skinning her ass 
like she had done to her in the past.  She had not counted on the 
pain.  She knew that giving birth to Jennifer HAD been worse than 
the hand-spanking, but she wasn't so sure about the slippering.  
She was reduced to carrying on like...well, like a child.  She 
begged, promising anything to stop the spanking...to get out of 
the deal.  And, in the end, she became what she was being punished 
for seeming: a snivelling brat who deserved everything she was 
getting.  She had even sworn like a stevedore, and now had the 
soap in her mouth to prove it.  It all was so disgusting, and she 
wasn't sure just how much more she could take.

Jennifer was all business.  She wasn't going to let her mom off 
easy.  She had a job to do, and her mother had a lesson to learn, 
and both were going to be accomplished.  No, she wasn't hitting 
her mother with ALL her strength, perhaps, but she wasn't loafing, 
either.  She wanted the lesson to last.  After all, how often would 
she get this chance?

Barbie's screams of pain, now muffled by the bar of soap and her 
constant gagging, eventually died down to a muted sobbing.  The 
smacking sounds continued for a while, but, much too soon for Fred, 
the spanking eventually came to an end.  All in all, it had been a 
most enjoyable interlude, and he now found it difficult to stand 
up.  He'd have to take care of that little problem before he could 
go back to the desk.  He heard Jennifer order Barbie to spit out 
the soap, rinse, and spit again...then go to the corner.  He 
quietly closed the adjoining door and let himself out, quickly 
making his way to the restroom to relieve his obvious condition, 
and thence back to the front desk.

After a few minutes' corner time, Barbie was summoned to the 
bathroom.  Jenny had one more humiliation for her: Barbie was 
going to get shaved.

As Jennie prepared and laid out the shaving things, she began 
to get a squirmy feeling.  She had an idea that she was going 
to enjoy this perhaps more than she should.... 

Some time later, bare as a baby and pink as a watermelon, Barbie 
again stood in the corner, mourning the loss of the last vestige 
of her womanhood.

		******************************

Perhaps half an hour afterward, the manager looked up to quite a 
delightful sight.  Barbie stood at the counter.  Her face was a 
mask of misery, eyes red and swollen.  She was a girl (well, a 
woman) in obvious discomfort.  She was blushing furiously.  He 
tried to act as if he had no idea of her condition and looked 
from Barbie's pained expression to Jennifer's triumphant one.  
He liked the contrast.

"May I help you, young lady?"

Barbie colored even redder, if that were possible, and, sobbing 
and hiccupping, she told her story of woe, including every detail. 
Fred, of course, knew everything she said was true, yet did his 
best to seem amazed and sympathetic about Barbie's situation, 
and he looked genuinely concerned throughout her apology and 
confession.  But he also, from time to time, expressed disbelief 
or feigned misunderstanding and compelled Barbie to repeat some 
of the most humiliating parts.

In the end, he assumed a judgmental manner and a patronizing tone 
of voice. 

"Well, young lady, I see that your mother has done the right thing 
and, I hope, has taught you a very valuable lesson....  I can't, 
however, just write off those computer charges.  After all, you DID 
use it, correct?"

Stricken, Barbie turned to Jenny with pleading eyes.  Jenny just 
snapped at her, "Don't you look at me, young lady!  You made the 
choice -- so deal with it!"

Barbie looked back to the manager.  Inside, she was seething.  If 
this had happened last week, when she was in her crisp business 
suit and wearing her doctor's name tag, this man would have been 
falling all over himself to grovel at her feet and write off the 
stupid nine dollar charge.  Now, just because he thought her a 
child, he was making her jump through hoops and treating her like 
dirt.

"But I have no money, s-sir.  Maybe I could earn the money...clean 
some rooms or something."

"No, I'm sorry.  There are all sorts of hotel regulations about 
that sort of thing.  Liabilities....  Nope, you'll just have to 
pay."

Jennifer interjected, "Sir, my m- my daughter has been rude and 
disobedient.  She has been properly punished by me, but perhaps 
what you had said earlier could be of some help.  You remarked 
that discipline should be thorough to be effective.  Perhaps if 
you yourself made certain that the discipline was thorough enough, 
then you could see fit to waive the fee?"

Throughout the earlier spanking, Fred had kicked himself that the 
rooms did not have surveillance cameras.  But if what she seemed 
to be implying.... 

"Well....  It's highly irregular, but I think I see your point.  
Take the charges out of her hide, so to speak.  Not a bad idea.  
You do realize, however, that I'm on duty and can't leave the desk. 
She'd have to be punished right here, right behind the counter."

Getting your bare bottom spanked in private by your daughter is 
devastating, but getting it spanked in public by a total stranger 
that you already totally dislike is worse, especially if it's a 
bottom that's already so sore that sitting will be a torment for 
days.

Barbie looked back and forth between the two and shouted, "NO 
FUCKING WAY!"

One glance at the look on Jenny's face told her that she had, once 
again, gone too far.  Jenny reached into her purse and pulled out 
the slipper and the dreaded soap.  "Sir, I believe my daughter will 
be needing these to pay off her debt!"  

Fred just smiled and guided Barbie back around the counter.  He 
pulled a straight back chair away from the night auditor's desk 
and placed it with its back to the counter.  There was method to 
his madness.  The security camera would capture this Kodak moment 
for future viewing, and he could relive every bit of this little 
minx's punishment again and again.  He sat down, his back to the 
counter, and dragged Barbie to his side.  As he began to undo her 
shorts, she started to protest.

He looked to Jennifer and said, tartly, "I believe all spankings 
should be given on the bare, don't you?"

Jenny smiled.  "Of course, proceed!"

As he slowly and painfully dragged Barbie's pants and panties down 
over her still-tingling bottom, he began to lecture her.

"Now, young lady, I can see from the condition of your little red 
caboose that your mother did a good job.  It's obvious she truly 
cares about you.  I'm half-tempted to let you off this time, but 
I feel it would be a wrong for you to miss out on this learning 
opportunity.  So, I'm going to compromise.  I'm going to put this 
bar of soap in your mouth and give you only nine swats of the 
slipper, one for each dollar you owe.  If you hold the soap, the 
debt will be paid, but, if you drop the soap, we'll start all over 
again at 'One.'  Understand?"

Barbie was now pants down, prone across this loathsome man's lap.  
All she could do was nod her head in agreement and wait for the 
worst.  She didn't have long to wait.  Her butt was already sore, 
and Fred was a grown man, so the first swat stung so badly that 
she spit out the soap.

"Well, that one doesn't count.  Keep that up, and we'll be here all 
day!"

The spanking started again.  Barbie was beside herself, screaming, 
gagging on the soap, and writhing in pain and humiliation.  But 
now, no matter what, she wouldn't again let go of that hated soap.

In the middle of it, a woman came into the lobby and, startled, 
stood quietly by and watched.  Soon after, a businessman and his 
wife came in.  They watched four swats before the wife made a 
disgusted face and left with her husband in tow.  Finally, as the 
last three swats were administered, a middle-class family of four 
-- husband, wife, son, and daughter (who would turn out to be 
19-year-old twins) -- walked into the lobby and also stood quietly, 
observing the finish.  Jenny had noticed all these arrivals and had 
smiled at each in turn.  

Fred pulled the sobbing Barbie to her feet.  She was totally 
oblivious to the fact that she was standing there, pants and 
panties at her ankles, her hairless crotch on display, sobbing 
and gently nursing an obviously well-punished behind while a 
number of people had gathered to watch.  At last, despite her 
tears and blubbered apologies to the manager, she finally became 
aware of the onlookers.  She let out a squawk and bent over, 
trying to hide herself...not very successfully.  For that matter, 
the spectators had already seen practically all there was to see.  
Their individual reactions, however, would remain to be seen. 

Jenny thanked Fred for disciplining her daughter and dragged Barbie 
back to their room.  Barbie was devastated.  All of those people 
had seen her bare from the waist down...had seen her spanked...and 
had seen her almost cum in the process....

Meanwhile, the woman that had come into the lobby had actually come 
to complain about her room -- she had found a gum-wrapper under her 
bed.  But, as she watched the weeping Barbie limping away, she 
abruptly changed her mind and decided that everything was just 
fine after all.  When Fred asked if he could help her, she forced 
a smile, shook her head, and scurried back to the safety of her 
room (where she spent some "quality time" with herself).

The middle-brow family checked in, somewhat nervously.  As they 
made their way toward their rooms, the father was overheard to 
hiss, "You kids, I don't want to hear any more bickering -- and 
you will not trash this room."  He turned to his wife.  "And this 
time, you leave the towels and stuff here."  The rest of the 
family chirped unanimous agreement.

About a half-hour later, the businessman who had been in earlier 
returned and inquired as to the reason for the young girl's 
punishment.  Fred shrugged, smiled, and mentioned it was because 
of unauthorized use of the room computer.  The man just nodded in 
approval and checked in.  As he finished, he laid a crisp new 
hundred dollar bill on the counter and asked, "What time do you 
get off tonight?"

Fred looked at the hundred and then at the man.  "Ten o'clock.  
Why?"

"That hundred says my wife will commit the same offense by 10 
tonight, and if her bottom looks like that young lady's by 11, 
there'll be another hundred for you.  Okay?"

Fred nodded, picked up the bill, folded it, and put it into his 
pocket.  Grinning broadly, he thought, "This is going to be one 
hell of a memorable night!"

Meanwhile, in their room, Barbie was back in her corner.  She was 
furious with Jenny for subjecting her to such public humiliation -- 
and with that wretched man, too.  And she was certain the threat 
about Mr. Peepers was not an idle one.  Of course, she was also 
afraid of getting another damn slippering if she stepped out of 
line.  She spit...again.  She knew she'd be tasting soap for days.  
How had she gotten herself into this mess?

Jenny, in the meantime, was thinking about dinner and decided that 
they would eat in the hotel.  So, about 7 p.m., the two made their 
way to the dining room, which was just off the lobby.  Barbie was 
mortified; her bottom was so sore that she had been forced to 
bring along one of the large foam pillows from the bed.  She 
quickly put it on her chair -- out of sight, she hoped -- and 
gingerly lowered herself onto it.  But it took several minutes 
of fidgeting and a stern threat from Jenny of another public 
spanking to finally get Barbie to sit still and look over the 
menu.  She chose inappropriately, however, and Jenny had to 
correct her order from lobster, etc. to mac and cheese, a peanut 
butter sandwich, milk, and jello.  

Whether it was the hours of crying, or the energy she had expended 
struggling through her spankings, Barbie was famished.  The 
kiddie's meal was almost too much for her to bear.  She was just 
about to cry.

Jenny looked at Barbie and, with the cold conviction of a mother 
who knows what's good for her daughter, ordered her to sit up 
straight, quit acting up, and eat her meal.  Barbie grudgingly sat 
up and ate her kiddie food in silence.

The family of four that had witnessed the spanking came in just as 
Jenny and Barbie were finishing.  The boy saw the pillow first and 
pointed it out to his sister.  She giggled and told her parents.  
Soon the whole family was rudely gawking at Barbie, and she knew 
it.

"Mom, can we go?  They're laughing at me."

"Now, Barbie, if you hadn't misbehaved, they would have nothing to 
laugh at.  Besides, it's probably good for them to see what happens 
to kids when they're naughty.  Gosh, you act as if they'd never 
seen someone get spanked before."

Truth be told, they hadn't, until today.  In fact, they had never 
been spanked themselves.  Unfortunately for both them AND their 
mother, that condition would soon change.  If no one else had 
been favorably impressed by the show, the father certainly had 
been, and he used what he had learned on all three of his family 
that very same night.  And the night after.

The drive back home was the quietest and pleasantest part of the 
trip.

After Jenny finished her surf n' turf, she lingered a while over 
after-dinner coffee while Barbie just sat and stewed.  She asked 
permission to go pee, but that was denied.  Another cross to bear.  
She knew that all those people thought she was just a naughty 
little girl who was getting exactly what she had deserved.  If 
they only knew the truth, that they had witnessed a full-grown, 
professional woman spanked on her bare bottom, they would have 
been flabbergasted.  She hated the way they looked at her and 
smiled their superior, knowing smiles.  They were relishing the 
thought of her sore, red behind.  She mentally relived what that 
bastard manager had done to her and squirmed at the memory.  He had 
had spanked her so hard, and he'd enjoyed it.  His thick hard-on 
had pressed against her stomach...and she wondered, momentarily, 
what it might look like...if it was really as big as it had felt.  
He had spanked her mercilessly, and then had the gall to wink at 
her as she and Jenny passed the desk on their way to dinner.  

Barbie hated the fact that she had been manhandled so easily, both 
by him AND by her own daughter.  But, even more, she hated "corner 
time."  That half-hour standing in the corner was awful.  It seemed 
endless, and endlessly boring, with nothing to do but re-live the 
pain and humiliation over and over again.

Though, if it was such torment (and it WAS), why was she so wet 
between the legs?

No!  She refused to think about that.  

Besides, some of this -- much of it -- was sort of her own fault.  
She knew that she should have been able to act with maturity -- for 
example, to watch her tongue rather than cussing out Mr. Peepers 
like a common guttersnipe.  She also knew that she deliberately 
called Jenny by her first name in a stupid attempt to prolong her 
superior status, and she had intentionally chosen to use the 
computer knowing it would leave Jennifer no option but to punish 
her.  She had to admit that she had misbehaved....  Yes, just like 
a naughty child, she had "asked for it" and had gotten it.

Ever since this damn arrangement had begun, she had been acting 
more and more viscerally and less rationally.  She knew from 
training and experience how to analyze problems and manipulate 
people.  Why couldn't she seem to utilize those skills now?  Was 
she reverting to adolescent behavior just because people were 
expecting it of her?  Or was there a darker reason?     

All this actually hurt worse than either spanking.  Later, 
after she had been put to bed, she continued to stew about 
it, fruitlessly, and finally cried herself to sleep....

		******************************
		



                   UNINFORMED AND UNIFORMED

                              by 

                  Father Jim and C. Lakewood


FUN IN THE SHOWER, A SWIMMING LESSON, AND, AS THEY USED TO SAY, 
SOME "DIRTY WORK AT THE CROSS-ROADS."



Part 5

Barbie was awakened by a sharp slap on her upturned bottom.  She'd 
spent the night face-down (and she realized, with chagrin, that she 
had a hand inside her panties).  She hoped Jenny hadn't noticed, 
but the expression on her face suggested that she had.  

Then she removed all doubt.  

"I'm sorry I didn't think to bring your vibrator, Barbie.  I know 
how horny girls of your age get at the least little thing...."  
And then she giggled -- giggled! 

Jenny had already gotten up, showered, ordered breakfast, and 
dressed.  During her own shower, Barbie examined her bottom and 
was relieved to see that there was no bruising.  It was still red, 
though, and tender.  She stood under the hot water for a long time, 
luxuriating in the heat and the feel of the needle spray on her 
breasts, tummy, and crotch...especially her crotch....

"The nerve of that girl...making cracks about my vibrator," she 
fumed.  "I suppose she'd want me to demonstrate it, next....  Oh, 
god!  Having to m-mas-masturbate in front of her....  How wicked!  
I'd HAVE to, though, if she ordered me.  I'd have to...just....  
Oh, god...oh...ohh...ooohh!"    

By the time she emerged from the steamy bathroom, the food had 
arrived: bacon, eggs, biscuits, orange juice, and coffee for 
Jenny; mush and milk for Barbie.  Ravenous, she ate her swill 
in silence.

At last Jenny finished her coffee, glanced at her watch, and 
announced, "Okay, sleepyhead, hurry up.  Swim class in half an 
hour."

"Aaaaah!  I forgot all about that.  But, please.  I'm still much 
too sore for any kind of physical workout this morning.  Can't we 
just skip that...Mommie?"

"Don't be silly.  It'll be good for you....  Besides, you've 
already had a workout, of sorts, while you were in the shower.  
Right?"

Barbie blushed and nodded.

"Right?"

"Yes, Mommie....  I-I couldn't help it...."

"Hormones made you do it?  Well, maybe...maybe not."

		******************************	  

Twenty minutes later the two were walking past the front desk when 
Fred cleared his throat and called to Jennifer.  He handed her 
"THE" slipper and thanked her for loaning it to him.  She smiled 
and tucked it into her purse.  "Actually," she said, "I don't think 
Barbie thanked you sufficiently last night for her spanking.  Go 
on, dear, thank the nice man.

"Th-thank you, s-sir, for s-sp-panking me.  I'm trying to be a good 
girl...."

Damn!  She could feel her panties getting damp again. 

		******************************
 
Not ten minutes after mother and daughter had continued on to 
the YWCA (with Fred relishing the fact that he knew which was 
which...and wondering exactly how he could best employ that 
knowledge), he looked up to see the businessman's wife coming 
toward him.  She was quite attractive, mid-forties, blonde hair 
stylishly done, trim figure well taken care of -- in short, a 
woman who was the center of attention wherever she happened to 
be, and clearly accustomed to the finer things of life.  Looking 
at her now, however, it was obvious that something wasn't right. 
Even her perfect make-up couldn't camouflage her red and swollen 
eyes.  And she appeared to be walking rather stiffly, as if each 
move was painful.  She sniffled and said, in a soft and trembling 
"I am sorry for causing you to sp-spank me last night, and I want 
to...sniff...apologize for my actions and thank you for my-my 
punishment....  Your hotel...sniff...is wonderful, and we hope 
to use...sniff, sniff...use your fine services again....  Often."  

At this, she turned stiffly and limped away, one hand hovering near 
her rump.

Fred had a dreamy expression on his face as he re-played his vivid 
memories of her pretty bottom, bare, wagging to and fro under the 
Turkish slipper.  He patted the two crisp c-notes in his pocket and 
watched the woman painfully seat herself in their Mercedes.  Hurry 
back, now!

		******************************

At the YWCA, Jennifer and Barbie headed straight for the area 
marked, "POOL."  

"Yes?  Can I help you?" a husky voice asked. 

The woman was tall and lanky, with short, black hair and olive 
skin.  Late 30s, maybe.  She was wearing a damp t-shirt, loose 
shorts, and a whistle on a lanyard -- and apparently nothing else.  
She was attractive, if you liked the type.  Barbie thought she was 
probably a "lipstick lesbian."

"Yes," Jenny replied.  "Miss Girardo?  My daughter's signed up for 
a beginner's swim lesson." 

"Okay.  We'll be running just a little late today.  The others in 
the class won't be here for a while.  You weren't informed?"

Jenny shook her head.

"No matter.  My instructors are here.  This'll just give us the 
opportunity for...'personalized' instruction."

Barbie didn't like the way that sounded, but it didn't seem to 
bother Jenny at all.  

"I'll just leave Barbie in your hands, then.  I'm anxious to try 
the frappuccino back in the glassed-in lounge area -- I've heard 
people rave about it.  Incidentally, she doesn't have a suit."

Miss Girardo grinned, showing her very white teeth.  "Don't worry 
about that.  Go on and enjoy the lounge."  She looked down at 
Barbie.  "First thing for you, kid, is a shower."

"I just had a shower," Barbie retorted.

"Doesn't make any difference.  State law requires a verified shower 
before you enter the pool area.  Come along.  Little girls can't 
shower without adult supervision." 

Barbie, of course, was pissed.  She didn't want to undress and 
parade around naked in front of a bunch of dykes or a pack of kids, 
and she didn't want any swimming lesson...most particularly in the 
NUDE.  She'd lived this long without swimming, so why start now?  
Jennifer, however, had a different view, and all it took was one 
glimpse of that damned slipper to convince Barbie that she had 
better be obedient on this matter.

Accordingly, she followed "Stretch" into the seedy locker room and 
reluctantly began to strip.  She longed for the country club 
facilities: private shower stalls, each with its own enclosed 
changing area. 

Here, however, there were just a few dented lockers next to big 
gang shower, maybe 25 feet square.  A series of sprinkler pipes 
ran along the ceiling above the shower area, and there were a 
number of drain grates set into the floor.  Pretty crude.  No 
walls, no modesty panels, no curtains....  

She was just handing the coach her panties when two damp 
20-somethings in black tank suits came in, a stocky Latina 
and a lithe redhead. 

"Who's this, Myra?" Red asked.

"Barbie...Barbie Wilson," the head coach answered.  "She's a 
beginner and obviously a little shy, poor thing....  Barbie!  
You get along to the shower, now, and don't waste time."  

As Barbie obediently turned toward the big gang shower, the Latina 
spoke up.  "From the looks of her butt, it appears little Barbie's 
had a recent spanking.  She might as well be wearing a sign."

The coach laughed.  "Yes, and if you'll take a glance at her 
crotch, you'll see why, probably."

"Ahhh!  So you like to play with yourself, huh, chica?"

The redhead snapped a towel at Barbie's tender bottom.  "Answer 
her, brat!"   

"Aaaaa!  Please!  YES!  Yes, I-I like to...."

"O-kay.  So, get your rosy little butt into that shower, and make 
real sure you scrub EVERYWHERE...or we'll have to get in there and 
give you a hand," the coach said. 

Barbie scurried into the institutional shower...and jumped back 
with a squeal as the icy water hit her.  She managed to get up 
enough nerve to edge back under the frigid spray and lather up.  
The cheap soap was no treat, but it could have been worse. 

And it got worse.  The three women watched closely as she scrubbed 
herself from head to toe....  And then, before they'd let her out, 
insisted she demonstrate her fingering technique.   

		******************************

After the shower and the show, she and the three instructors moved 
to the pool area.  Nobody else had arrived yet.

"Okay, kid," Coach Guardino said.  "You can start your warm-ups.  
Squats first.  Go!" 

The three women crowded around Barbie then, as she obediently 
spread her legs and commenced doing her squats.... 

She was very conscious of the sub-text, and it both annoyed her 
and seemed to turn her on.  And that annoyed her even more.

"Look at how WET she is!" Red said.

"And not from the shower, neither," the Latina added.  "She's a 
HOT one!"

"I love the way it opens and closes as she's going up and down....  
Like she's advertising, or something," Red grinned.

Coach Guardino merely smiled indulgently as her subordinates 
prattled on, but she DID have a look in her eye that made 
Barbie shiver.

After a number of stretching and loosening exercises, they moved on 
to breathing and arm movements, which Barbie had to practice while 
standing beside the pool.   

At last, appearing bored with the proceedings so far, Coach 
Guardino snapped a towel at Barbie's butt-crack, causing her 
to stumble a few erratic steps...and tumble into the pool. 

She immediately began to flail about and scream for help in the 
classic way of drowning females.  Her lurid shrieks bounced off 
the tiles and echoed around the pool area, sounding like something 
out of a slasher movie.  Meanwhile, the three women were all 
laughing uncontrollably.  Though Barbie was appalled that these 
people would just stand and laugh at her while she drowned, right 
now her panic overrode all other thoughts and emotions, and she 
pleaded for help. 

"Stand up!" the coach said.

"What?  What?  Oh, please!  (Blub!) Please help me!"

In unison the three shouted, "STAND UP!"  Barbie finally let her 
feet down and felt the bottom.  She had been floundering around in 
about three feet of water.  Still laughing at this crazy naked 
girl with the rosy butt and skillful fingers, the coach grabbed 
Barbie's wrist and hauled her over to the ladder and out of the 
pool. 

Barbie's wits, already frayed, snapped.  Sputtering and fuming, 
she muttered, "Bitch!" and reflexively pushed hard, sending the 
off-balance coach reeling backward to topple ungracefully into 
the deep end of the pool.

Apparently Coach Guardino's sense of humor was not very elastic, 
for, a moment later, she rose from the pool like wet, grim death, 
scrambled out, and made straight for Barbie, who was rooted to 
the spot and repeating over and over, "I didn't mean it....  I'm 
sooo sorry!"

"You're going to be a lot sorrier," the coach said through gritted 
teeth.  "It's no wonder that somebody had to tan your backside, 
but I guess they didn't do it thoroughly enough....  So, you brat, 
get ready for another dose!"

Barbie tried to back away, but she had no escape route.  The coach 
seized her ear and dragged her over to a pool-side bench and across 
her lap.  The coach's arm went up...and paused...and....
 
There suddenly came a shout of "STOP!"

"Thank god!" Barbie gasped.  

It was Jennifer, apparently come to save her.  But Barbie's relief 
was short-lived.  Jennifer simply walked up and handed the coach 
the slipper (which she had thoughtfully encased in a plastic bag, 
to protect it from the damp).  

The furious coach immediately accepted it and put it to use.  In 
the next few minutes, Barbie learned a new lesson, namely that 
being spanked on your wet bottom was wickedly painful.

Discarding all modesty and self-control, Barbie carried on as if 
she were possessed.  She kicked and screamed and thrashed about 
with utter abandon.  Still, Coach Guardindo, seemingly of some 
long-lost Amazon stock, had no problem holding her easily with 
one hand, while whaling away mercilessly with the other.  

All in all, the spanking was rather brief, but very memorable.  
And, when Barbie was let up, she did the traditional dance, 
holding her bottom and blubbering incoherently until the coach 
pushed her back into the shallow end of the pool.  

"There, baby, that should cool you off...."

		******************************

Fred looked up to see Jennifer and Barbie crossing the street, 
heading back to the hotel.  And Barbie was walking the same way 
the businessman's wife had earlier.  

As the two were passing the desk, Fred delivered a message that 
had come for them while they were out.  

"It seems your husband will be detained another week," he said to 
Jenny.  "But he should be home by next Sunday.  He was sorry he'll 
miss the masquerade party, but he wanted you two to go anyway and 
have fun.  Jennifer just smiled and nodded, though Barbie appeared 
unhappy.   

Fred then asked, in a smirking, patronizing voice, "Is everything 
alright, young lady?"

There was that irritating "young lady" thing that was really 
getting on her nerves.  "NO, EVERYTHING IS NOT GODDAMN ALRIGHT!  
I JUST GOT MY BARE ASS BLISTERED BY SOME AMAZON DYKE!  OKAY?  
AND NOW I'M GOING BACK TO MY SORRY-ASS ROOM!  OKAY?"

That little tantrum proved unwise.

Not ten minutes later, the sound of leather on flesh and Barbie's 
barely-muted wails drifted from their room and down the hall.  The 
hour of silence that followed meant corner time, of course.

Jennifer was determined that, since her father would not be back in 
time to enjoy the party, she would ensure that this weekend left a 
lasting impression on her mother.  Still, she was becoming rather 
bored and decided that this would be a good day to shop for her new 
car.  She had meant only to window-shop, but, when she came across 
THE car, her DREAM CAR...and reputed to be one of the very few like 
it in the whole state, she just had to have it.  She put down a 
$500 deposit, charged to her credit card, so that the dealership 
would hold the prize until Monday.  And she was so ecstatic and 
full of charity, in fact, that she decided to go easy on her mother 
for the remainder of the weekend.

They ate in the hotel dining room again.  This time, however, 
Jennifer was positively giddy.  And, in spite of all the trials 
and humiliations she had suffered, Barbie was actually happy for 
her, as well.  Even as Barbie sat primly on her pillow, she smiled 
at Jenny's delight.  She could bear no grudge, for she had merely 
gotten what she'd deserved.  And perhaps she'd deserved it for some 
time....

During their dinner, Fred took a message from Jennifer's credit 
card company, which urgently needed to reach her.  She had been 
using her card a lot the last few days, and she was now over her 
limit.  The card company had okayed the $500 charge to the the car 
dealership, but wanted her to know that her card was maxed out by 
twelve dollars.  The company rep had said they would be happy to 
extend her limit, however, and all she had to do was phone them.  
But she did have to phone before attempting to use the card again.  
Fred promised that he would pass the message along.  

He then called the dining room hostess and asked to be informed 
if the two women at table three asked for any liquor and if they 
charged their meals.  Sure enough, not ten minutes later, Jenny 
ordered a small glass of wine, and signed for the meals.

Chuckling, Fred picked up the phone.
 

