The following story is done as a letter to the advice column "It's Not Fair!" in the monthly magazine Boy Stuff published for boys six to twenty.  The letters are usually from boys who protest and complain about things they don't like generally about lack of privacy and that (frequently younger) girls are in charge.  Occasionally, there are other kinds such as this one from a girl.  The editors decided that it was more appropriate for the sister magazine Teen Miss which is concerned with girls' issues and so it was published there.  

This story contains scenes of spanking and domination of young teens.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  The fictitious drug Puericilâ„¢ is described at puericilInfo.htm.

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It's Not Fair
Sandy's Letter 5

By

Red Rover <[email protected]>



Sandy (16 years old)
 
 
 
Dear Dr Baker,
 
 
Well, it didn’t take me long to get in trouble again. We had pretty much settled into a routine after my first visit to the pediatrician. I got a few spankings from Donny, and Robbie got a couple from Donna, but we were pretty well behaved most of the time. It was ten days after my visit that Lisa came by to do her first home visit. Naturally, nobody told me about it in advance.
 
It was shortly after seven PM and Robbie and I had finished being bathed by Donny, Donna and Frankie. (Frankie and Donna had become an “item” and he spent a lot of time at our house when the pizza business was slow. It also gave him an excuse to help bathe me and spank me when Donny was tired or otherwise occupied.)
 
So Robbie and I were lying naked on our towels watching TV, as usual. Mama was in the “mommy chair” and Donny was in the “daddy chair.” Donna and Frankie were on the couch, not quite making out, but being friendly. When the doorbell rang, it was my job to answer it that night – completely naked and not covering up any private parts with my hands, my standard instructions. Robbie and I alternated being on “door duty” so we could both experience the joy of exposing our bare bodies to visitors.
 
Our visitors were Lisa and an older girl who looked about 25. Both were dressed in nurse’s gear and carried black bags. Lisa smiled at me and I smiled back, but then the older girl smirked and said “You must be little Sandy,” in a tone that suggested that she had said “you must be the new puppy dog.”
 
Now, my biggest weakness is my smart mouth. It gets me more spankings than all my other kinds of misbehaviour combined. So, naturally, I responded with, “No, you stupid bitch, I’m Lady Godiva. My horse threw a shoe yesterday and I’m staying here for a few days until the farrier gets back from Tucson.”
 
 
 
Lisa went pale and the other girl’s face turned bright red with anger. Of course, both Donny and Frankie jumped up and started for the door while Mama gasped and said something like, “I’m sorry, Miss, Sandy has always been a difficult child and she sometimes speaks without thinking.”
 
Frankie reached me first and took a firm grip on my left ear. Every parent knows that when you get a kid by the ear, he or she is under your total control. Worse yet, my piercings were still healing. (I had been deprived of all my piercing type earrings after starting the Puericil G on the grounds that I was now a child again, not a teen.) So Frankie had no problem guiding me over to an armless dining room chair which happened to be conveniently located next to the dining room door. He turned me over his left leg, pinned my legs with his right and proceeded to smack my bare bottom with his hard hand.
 
By now Donny had reach the door and Lisa introduced the new girl as Denise “something-or-other,” the RN in charge of the nursing staff at the clinic. Donny introduced himself and offered her his hand, which she took and smiled at him. His greeting for Lisa was more friendly and included a big hug and a pat on the bottom, which Lisa responded to with alacrity. Normally, I would have said, “Get a room, you two,” but I was too busy squirming and bawling to come up with a smart answer.
 
Donny took the two girls into the living room and introduced them around. I was too busy staring at the carpet and blubbering to hear what they said. Finally, Mama said, “Let’s go into the dining room for some coffee and dessert. Donna and Robbie, will you bring out the pie and cookies? The coffee is already ready and there is soda in the fridge for anybody who wants that. Frankie, you can get some when you are done with Sandy.”
 
As far as I was concerned, Frankie could stop any time he wanted to, but he seemed to think that my bottom was not warm enough to fry eggs on yet, so he proceeded on for several more minutes, by which time I was totally limp over his knee with a nasty mix of snot and tears running down my face and puddling on the carpet. After a few minutes of doing my “spanky dance,” which consisted mostly of hopping up and down and howling, Frankie sent me to my usual corner with a final smack that almost lifted me off my feet.
 
 
 
Once in the corner, with my hands folded on top of my head, my nose pressed firmly into the corner and my blazing bottom on full display, I was able to get myself somewhat under control and listen to what was going on in the rest of the living room and the dining room. I am not sure if this is true of all corners, but when I was in “my” corner, I could hear even low voices conversing in other parts of the room. Must be some trick of acoustics.
 
 
 
Anyway, I could hear the other people bustling around in the dining room, but Donny and Denise had moved to the stairwell area and were talking in low tones that only I could hear. I was very careful not to turn around or rub my bottom, because I knew all too well what would result from THAT.
 
So Donny says, in his new low rumble that even scared me at times, “Denise, how old are you?”
 
Denise said, rather defiantly, “I’m 23 – what’s that to you?”
 
Donny gave a little grunt. “Old enough to know better.”
 
“What?” Denise sputtered, “Who the hell are you to tell me that?”
 
Donny growled, “I am the guardian of a child to whom you have just used a diminutive as a pejorative. And done it in a deprecatory manner bordering on the supercilious. You are supposed to be a pediatric nurse, not a schoolyard bully. A pediatric nurse is supposed to treat children with respect, not make fun of their psychological problems. You need to clean up your act or find another field of endeavor that will not require you to deal with children.”
 
Denise sputtered again, her voice rising, “Diminutive?” “Pejorative?” “Deprecatory?” “Supercilious?” “Endeavor?” Teenage boys don’t use words like that except on vocabulary tests. And you used five of them correctly in one short paragraph! How old are you, anyway and how do you get off telling off an adult?”
 
Donny chuckled. It was his “evil chuckle” that I have learned does not often turn out well for my bottom. “I am fourteen years old, as you know. I’m not a 30-year-old with a young face. I just happen to be more articulate and have a better vocabulary than most of my peers. And I regard Sandy as my little sister. She just got a spanking for acting like a brat and she deserved it. But you provoked her into doing it and, if I had the power, you would get the same.”
 
Denise sounded more subdued and maybe a little scared. “You don’t have the authority to spank me! I’m an adult and nine years older than you are. Even if you were actually 30, you couldn’t do it, legally.”
 
This time, Donny’s chuckle was even more evil than usual. “An interesting problem. I wonder what the cops would do if a 23-year-old girl came to them complaining she had been spanked by a 14-year-old boy. And what the girls at the Clinic would have to say about it.”
 
By this time, I was so excited that I almost peed my pants, (if I had been wearing any!)
 
“No, please, don’t keep talking this way,” a thoroughly chastened Denise said in a quavering voice. “And don’t tell the other girls at the Clinic. I’ll be good, really good, I promise.”
 
“OK,” Donny said in a level voice. “we won’t talk any more about it today. Now let’s go in and get some dessert, they will wonder what happened to us.”
 
I could hear them moving away and then there was a loud SMACK, followed by a girlish yelp. No need to turn around to see what had happened. I am sure there was a silly grin on my face, even though my nose was still in the corner and my bottom was still on fire.
 
I could hear the others bustling about, talking and eating in the dining room, but I was not in the mood for dessert, conversation or anything else that didn't involve getting some cold water or ice on my red-hot bottom. I did, however manage to stop sniffling by the time they all came back out in the living room.
 
Donny took charge, as usual, "OK, Lisa, what's next on the agenda? are you going to need to run any tests or take any samples?" He pointedly ignored Denise, who looked frustrated but didn't say anything .
 
"Well, I'll need a blood sample and a urine specimen." Lisa replied. "Here's a specimen bottle. I showed you how to use it while we were at the clinic. Get it about half full."
 
"Sure thing, Lisa," Donny said confidently. "Come on, babygirl."
 
Donny took my hand and led me to the bathroom, like I was a three-year old going "potty." Oddly enough, I didn't resent being treated like a little kid by him, probabaly because I knew he loved me and would look after me like I was his own child. Denise tagged along behind us saying " I need to watch your technique," almost apologetically. I almost giggled when I realized how completely she had been cowed by Donny's dominating personality.
 
It is a lot more difficult to get a "clean" urine specimen from a girl than it is from a boy, I discovered. It involves plastic gloves, a bottle, baby wipes and a lot more personal contact than a girl is used to, especially from a boy around her own age. Hell, even my mother hadn't touched me that much down there for years. Oddly enough, though, I was more comfortable with Donny touching me "down there" than I had been with the girls at the clinic. Of course, my half-stifled giggles when he touched something especially intimate relieved some of the tension for us, but I could tell that Denise was getting irritated - probably because she couldn't find anything to criticise about Donny's technique.
 
Anyway, it was soon over and I could empty my bladder and let Donny clean me up. Denise grudgingly said "Good job, Donny."
 
Donny thanked her politely, kissed me on the forehead and smiled. "You were a good girl for me, Sandy. Thank you." Silly as it sounds, that made me feel like I'd gotten a medal or something.
 
So we went back out into the living room and Lisa poked me with a needle to get some blood samples. Then the usual rigamarole of a medical checkup where they measure your blood pressure, heart, lungs and all the other stuff. Of course they measured me all over to see if the PG was causing my body to grow or shrink in various places. They did let Donny take my temperature, which was good because I sure as hell didn't want Denise coming anywhere near my rectum with a thermometer
 
They both seemed happy with the results and made another appointment for me at the clinic in two weeks. Denise just packed up the equipment and walked out to the car, but Lisa stayed behind to give me a big hug. Then she hugged everybody else, which Robbie and Frankie quite enjoyed, The last hug was for Donny at the door. She actually gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he, of course, patted her bottom again, which probably annoyed Denise.
 
After the girls left, we went back to the living room and Donna teased Donny about Lisa. "That girl is so hot for you, boy. I'll bet she creams her panties on the way home thinking about you."
 
Donny laughed and smacked her botttom. "Get real, kiddo. She's five years older than I am. She's probably got half a dozen boys her own age fighting over her. Besides, I'm not even old enough to drive yet. What am I going to do, take her out for a date on my bicycle?"
 
Frankie laughed and punched Donny playfully on the arm. "Hey, dude, I'll drive you anywhere you want to go as long as I get to watch what you two do in the back seat!"
 
"Pervert!" Donny exclaimed in mock horror. "I'm not sure I want my little sister dating a Peeping Tom."
 
And then the real action started. Picture five teenagers, two of them stark naked, rolling around a living room floor in a mixed-sex wrestling match. Mom laughed so hard she got the hiccups and almost fell out of her chair.
 
So what started out as a bad night for me actually ended pretty well. Even if my bottom was still pretty sore the next morning.
 

 

 

 

 

      END OF PART FIVE