No, I haven't been hibernating, but I have not been active on the
fiction front either.
The "problem" is multi-faceted.
First of all, I have been exceptionally busy. It's a good kind of
busy, life is good, but it is keeping me away from my writing.
Secondly, I am writing elsewhere. I have shifted my interest to
non-fiction, particularly to discussions of the relational
aspects of female domination.
I also have aspirations to write the great American Femdom novel.
Entitled "Fire and Rain" it is in its 5th or 6th draft, and I
still don't seem to be getting anywhere with it.
Oh well, I did have time to write this, and here it is. I hope
you enjoy it.
***** ===== *****
Usual disclaimer: In this story, two pre-teen girls spank their
teen brothers, and watch them masturbate. There is no sex
involved, at least not according to Bill Clinton's definition of
the word. If I am lying, may the Senate proclaim judgement upon
me!
If this isn't your cup of tea, then read no further.
Victoria's Secret
Chapter 1
by Mule
Copyright 1999
I wish my mom didn't give me this assignment. Just because the
hatch to the attic was in my closet, I was always the one chosen
to get stuff out of there. Ever since I turned 12, almost a year
ago, I became the attic queen. Why my dad or brother couldn't do
it was something I couldn't understand.
So here I am in the dusty old attic on a Saturday morning,
getting the spring clothing down as my 14-year-old brother
snoozes beneath my feet. Dad was out playing golf, and mom was
off shopping with my aunt, and here I am the only one working!
I was a bit startled as the music that suddenly came booming up
through the floor. Steve must have gotten up, and figuring that
nobody was home had his CD player cranked up to 160 decibels. I'm
sure glad I'm not in his room.
Oh well, only a couple of more boxes and I can be off to Debbie's
house. We planned to listen to some "sensible" music, not the
kind our brothers listened to. It seemed like Stan's taste in
music was as bad as Steve's. Maybe I could talk Stan to come over
here and spend time with his best friend so Debbie and I could
have her house to ourselves. That would be great, because Debbie
has this magazine with some sex stuff in it, and we really wanted
to go over it together.
I got the boxes down and went to the bathroom to wash the dust
off me. I walked right in since the door was already partly open
only to find Steve kneeling in front of the toilet playing with
his penis! He had a magazine on the vanity and it was open to a
picture of a naked woman. The music was so loud, he didn't hear
me.
I stood at the door and watched him for nearly a minute. He
tossed his head back, grimaced his face, and all this white stuff
came squirting out of his penis. I immediately put two and two
together and decided that he was ejaculating sperm like my book
on sex education described.
It wasn't until he squirted several times that he finally opened
his eyes and noticed that I was there. Boy, was he scared. He
reached for the magazine, but instead knocked it off onto the
floor right at my feet. I bent down, picked it up and ran as fast
as my sneakers could carry me.
By the time he got up off his knees, I was long gone. I knew he
wasn't going to follow me too far until he got dressed. In the
meantime, I found a very safe place to hide the magazine.
By the time I got back upstairs, he was out of the bathroom and
in his bedroom. I merely opened the door and walked in. I walked
over to the CD player, turned it off and said, "Do you mind
telling me what you were doing?"
He tried to stammer out some sort of an excuse, "Err ... nothing
.. just doing stuff, you know."
My mind raced for my vocabulary, "You were mast-tur-bating," I
said stumbling over the words.
"What do you know about masturbating?" He countered.
"Enough," I replied, calling his bluff. I had absolutely no idea
what he was really doing. All I did know is that I had him in a
compromising position and I wasn't going to let him out of it. I
let the silence sit a while.
"Wh-what are you going to do about it?" He asked.
"I don't know. I suppose I could tell mom and dad. I wonder what
they'd think of your little act?" I was being prissy, and I knew
it, and I enjoyed it.
His reaction was surprising! "NO! PLEASE! DON'T. Dad will kill
me."
I knew there was something up between Steve and dad. Dad really
laid into him a couple of weeks ago for some reason, and when I
asked mom and him, he told me that it was none of my business. I
heard them yelling something behind Steve's closed door about,
"dirty ... filth ... pornography" and some other words I didn't
understand.
"What are you going to do with the magazine?"
"I was thinking about letting mom and dad see it."
"Please don't do that. Dad will kill me. Besides, I have to give
it back to Stan." He offered.
"Stan gave you it?" I asked.
He nodded a shameful yes.
"Does Stan masturbate like you." I asked.
Steve looked at me shocked and then blurted out, "I don't know!
We talked about it. I think he does. He says he does. I never saw
him do it." He babbled on.
Just then, the phone rang. Both of us stared at it in silence.
Finally I picked it up, and croaked, "Hello."
"Vickie, is that you?" The voice on the other end said.
"Debbie?" I responded.
"Vickie, it doesn't sound like you."
"I'm sorry Debbie, I was thinking of something else."
"So like, when are you coming over?" she asked.
"Wait a minute, Deb," I countered, 'Why don't you come over here.
I got something to show you. You're not going to believe it."
Debbie said that she'd be right over, and I hung up the phone.
Turning to my brother I said, "Debbie is coming over. I want you
to treat her nice. I want you to stay right here in this room
until I come back. Do you understand?"
Steve looked at me with questions in his eyes, but nodded his
assent. He knew that there was still some sort of agreement still
to be made, and did not want to do the slightest thing to anger
me.
-=o=-
As soon as Debbie showed up at the door, I grabbed her by the arm
and led her to where I hid the magazine. She was wide-eyed as she
looked at the pictures. "Fan-fucking-tastic," she managed to say
under her breath as she looked at the first set of pictures.
"Wait." I cautioned, "It gets better." I flipped the magazine
over to a section called "Female Domination."
Debbie looked at the pictures and read some of the articles. I
watched her face as she read. It told the whole story, the
disbelief, and the excitement. "WOW!" she said breathlessly. "Do
men and women really do those things?"
"I suppose so." I answered, "Otherwise why would they put them in
a magazine. Look at the penises on the men. They're big and hard.
Remember what Ms. Thompson told us about that in sex education
class. That means that they are excited and ready to have sex."
"But look at the women," Debbie said, "They're all dressed up.
They don't look like they're ready to have sex. In fact, here's a
picture of a woman spanking a man. What does that have to do with
sex? Ms. Thompson never said anything about spanking."
"I don't know," I answered. "It has got to have something to do
with sex. The men are naked, and they have ... have ..."
"erections" Debbie filled in.
"Erections." I confirmed. "That wouldn't happen if the men
weren't excited.
'Do you think men like it when women spank them? Does it get them
excited?"
"I don't know, but I think I know how we can find out."
Debbie looked at me quizzically.
"Steve!"
"OH" she mouthed silently.
"He owes me. I found him playing with himself and I found this
magazine, which by the way, he says he got from your brother."
"Stanley?"
"Yes, Stanley."
"Now it makes sense," Debbie revealed. "Dad caught Stanley in the
bathroom with something a couple of weeks ago. Boy did Stanley
get it then! Mom wouldn't talk to him for a week!"
She let that set in for a moment and continued. "So what are you
suggesting; we spank Steve and see if he gets an erection?"
I nodded.
Debbie and I went upstairs to Steve's room. He was sitting at his
desk playing with his computer.
"Steve, I thought about what I caught you doing and I came to a
decision. Debbie and I are going to give you a spanking." I just
blurted it out.
"WHAT!??" he exclaimed, "You can't do that."
"I can," I said holding my ground, "unless you want me to tell
mom and dad what I caught you doing and show them the magazine."
"Oh shit!" he said. I took it as a "yes."