Babysitter's brush 1: The Vase (F/ff story)

I watched with a mounting sense of dread as the vase wobbled, then tipped over and started to fall. Maggie threw herself forward, trying to catch it before it hit the ground, and for a brief moment, it looked like she would be successful.

She wasn't. The vase landed inches away from her out-stretched arms, fracturing into tiny pieces. Maggie rose to her feet with a look of impending doom on her face that must have mirrored mine. We were In Trouble.

"Maggie Henderson! Did I, or did I not, tell you not to run around in the house?" Mary, Maggie's babysitter, was standing in the doorway, hands folded in front of her as she glared at her young charge.

Mary was a high school student, the daughter of one of Maggie's mother's friends. She was tall, blonde and pretty, and usually friendly and smiling. At the moment, she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Mary," Maggie said, staring at the carpet.

"And you!" Mary said, turning to glare at me. I almost wet myself under those piercing eyes. "Kate, I told you to behave tonight, didn't I? Well, you're going to learn that misbehaving under my watch has consequences."

She sat down on one of the dining room chairs and reached into her purse, pulling out a large, wooden hairbrush. What was going on? "Come here, Maggie!"

"But you can't … Not in front of Kate, please!" Maggie said, waving towards me.

"Don't worry about Kate," Mary said with a cold look towards me. "She's next."

I still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but I didn't like the sound of that.

"Now come here, Maggie. You don't want to make me come and get you."

Kate slowly inched towards Mary, scared of going forward, but not daring to stand still. When she got close enough to the babysitter, Mary reached forward, raising her skirt and pulling down her panties. Then, she pulled the girl over her lap.

"I hope you're going to behave from now on," she said, raising the brush in her hand, before bringing it crashing down on Maggie's bare, quivering, unprotected cheeks.

Maggie cried out as stroke after stroke landed on her rear end. I gasped. Mary was spanking her! Maggie was actually being spanked, right in front of my very eyes! I had never seen a spanking before. I'd read about them, off course, but actually seeing one was quite different. I have to admit, it was a funny sight, Maggie kicking her legs and yelling her head off as her butt gradually turned more and more pink. I felt guilty for enjoying it.

A cold shiver ran down my back as I remembered Mary's comment: "She's next." The meaning became dreadfully clear. Mary was going to spank ME!

I bit my lip as Maggie's spanking continued. On the one hand, I wanted her spanking to last as long as possible, as that meant that my own butt-warming would be postponed. On the other, I couldn't see any reason why Mary would be any less strict with me than she was with Maggie, so I SHOULD hope her spanking was short.

Maggie was sobbing loudly before Mary finally let her off her lap. As soon as she was back on her feet, Maggie danced around, trying to rub the sting out her cheeks as the tears rolled down her face. Mary gave the crying girl a hug, rubbing her back and telling her she was forgiven, before turning towards me, her eyes suddenly cold. "Come here, Kate."

I froze. That brush looked more intimidating than any brush had any business doing. It was big and thick and hard, and Mary planned to slap it against my bottom until I cried. No thank you.

"Do as she says, Kate," Maggie said, drying her tears as she pulled her panties up. "It'll be easier. Trust me."

Somehow, I found the courage to step forward. Just like Maggie, I found my skirt raised and my panties lowered to my knees, before being whisked over Mary's lap. It was weird, lying there with my bare bottom in the air, with the soft skin of Mary's legs beneath me. But mostly, I thought about the brush, looming somewhere above my poor, defenceless bottom.

"I hope this teaches you to behave in the future," Mary said. She may have said something else, as well, but at that moment, an explosion of pain appeared on my left cheek, followed by an ever bigger one on the right. Soon, the sharp sound of hard wood on soft bottom rang out in the room, accompanied by a pain I hadn't thought possible.

But something strange was going on. Somehow, even though my bottom felt like it was on fire, even though I was kicking my legs from the pain and crying like I'd never cried before... I was enjoying it. I couldn't believe it. Somehow, I was enjoying the pain, it felt good, it felt... RIGHT. Part of me wanted to get off her lap and run, get as far away from the awful sting of that horrible brush as I could. But a different, greater part of me wanted to stay right where I was, in that strange mix of pain and pleasure, forever if at all possible.

I don't understand why. I doubt I ever will. But there was no doubt in my mind, none at all, about what I felt.

Then, my spanking was over. Mary helped me to my feet, and I tried to rub the sting out of my poor, aching cheeks, probably looking as silly as Maggie had. Mary gave me a hug and told me I was forgiven, and with a last slap to my posterior, she sent us off to continue playing.

I didn't tell my parents what had happened. Partly because I didn't know if they would punish me more, and partly because it felt secret. Shameful, in a way. When I got home, I stepped into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with my panties down, studying my bottom in the mirror. It was red and sore, and looked like it had been through hell.

I promised myself that somehow, I would experience it again.