Meeting Maureen Pt. 04

A look of sadness overcame me as I sat in a parking space maybe fifteen spots from the door to Ye Treasures of Olde. For the past six months, like clockwork, I had made my way to this particular shop with my sister, Heather, to see its owner, Maureen.

Before arriving each Saturday Heather and I would take 15-20 minutes at the diner just down the road to write out on paper what we were wanting from Maureen when we got to her shop. This was Maureen's standing order. For the most part my sister and I wrote out different "ideas" for how each of our time with Maureen would play out. There were some instances, however, when we only brought Maureen one slip of paper, with one desire that we wanted to do together. Those desires had been particularly difficult to discuss at the diner, what with the numerous people around, including our server. In fact, it was on no less than several occasions when I swore that Monica, the server who was pretty much always at our table, had overheard us or snuck a peek at what we were writing. It was just the smirk that she sometimes displayed while pouring my coffee that led me to believe she knew.

But on this Saturday, I was alone, and it was only 8:00am. Our time with Maureen had never wavered from the time she had told us to be at her store. Twelve noon was the time she closed for the rest of the weekend, and we knew that was when we would have to be at her shop. My arrival that early was due to my sister not being with me. Heather, despite her love for the area in which we grew up, had recently agreed to a merger of her company and a bigger firm. A part of the merger, however, was her having to move to Kansas City, a good 8-9 hour drive from our humble little town in the middle of nothing, in order to take up an executive position. Having left yesterday, Heather had visited Maureen for the last time the Saturday prior, and had asked me to stay home so she could have a solo "discussion" with her. On my end, I had not been inside Ye Treasures of Olde in two weeks.

Before she left for Missouri Heather had written out a card and asked me to give it to Maureen for her. Sitting in my Jeep I glanced over at the passenger seat where the sealed envelope lay. It was a typical shape, as far as card envelopes go, and I had been with her when she picked the card out at Target. I had forgotten what the card looked like and said but I remember it was something whimsical and kind of aloof. Now, what Heather had written on the card herself was a mystery. She had made me promise to not open it and to give it to Maureen before the normally scheduled time for visiting her. So far, I had kept my promise as I waited for Maureen to open her doors at 8:30am. The curiosity of what was on the card never really entered my mind.

With a half hour to kill I "rolled" the windows down and turned the engine off. It being a cool, breezy morning the fresh air felt good blowing through the openness of the Jeep. Moving my hand down to the lever I pushed it and felt the back of the seat recline just enough to where I could get comfortable. Resting on the headrest my mind drifted back remembering the past six months.

I had found Maureen one Saturday afternoon while looking for a wooden bathbrush. Hers was the third shop I had stopped in that day, having no luck at the previous two. Our chance encounter that first day had led to a long discussion with the new antique brush I had found while searching her shelves.

It was a discussion that Maureen had almost dared me to have. Sensing my secret fantasy of having my bare bottom paddled with the brush she first told me of her standing rule: The diner and a slip of paper.

Thinking back I could not remember the exact words I had written that day. For certain the brush was the focal point of a fantasy that had my bare bottom over Maureen's knee for the hardest spanking I could imagine and for a length of time that bordered on crazy. I laughed just a bit. Maureen had always delivered the spankings just as they were asked for. But I knew she never followed through on any time limit request I or Heather put down. A 30 minute spanking here, a 15 minute strapping there, she always would stop just when the time was right, not when a certain number of minutes had gone by. I guess that is one reason why despite the pain and sting of each spanking I had kept going back, without fail.

Heather had found out about my secret meetings with Maureen after only a few weeks. Her curious nature and my seemingly bizarre trips to Antique City had piqued her interest in what I was really doing each Saturday.

She had caught me not only with the note I had written for Maureen that day, but also with her thick, heavy wooden spoon. Sneakily, I had tried to pull a fast one on Heather but she was always a little too smart for me.

I honestly thought the discussion with Maureen that day was going to be followed by another discussion with Heather. How wrong I was when Heather excused herself from Maureen's office after watching her roast my bare bottom with the spoon, and returned in only her panties and a bra. When she asked Maureen to also whip her bare backside with the spoon my mouth could not have dropped more.

It was ever since that day that Heather and I would visit Maureen every Saturday. Over these past six months I had only missed two discussions, while Heather had missed only one.

Outside of the individual discussions we each wanted with Maureen we would sometimes craft little scenes on one slip of paper that led to different scenarios being played out.

One such scene Heather had the idea for maybe three months ago while we were sitting at the diner.

In this one scene Heather talked of how it would be fun to act out roles as shoplifters who got caught in the stockroom area. When we gave Maureen the slip of paper with that scenario written out she had laughed, saying, "Oh, now this sounds like fun." She then smiled and told us to go to the stockroom and start acting it out while she took 10 minutes at the front of the shop doing paperwork.

Heather and I went to the stockroom and wandered around the metal shelving as if we were looking for items to steal. There was one item, though, that "had" to be stolen. Heather had seen it the previous week while waiting for her "turn" to have a discussion with Maureen.

On a shelf third from the bottom near the door to Maureen's office Heather pointed the item out. Knowing time was running out before Maureen would come through the door Heather hurried for me to pick it up.

Holding it my hand I asked her which of us was going to get caught with it. Looking back at me, baffled, we both realized we had not thought that part out. "Rock, Paper, Scissors," she said questionably while raising her hands up in uncertainty.

"Okay," I had said back. "Loser gets caught with it."

One, two, three... we both held out rock. A couple more count downs also led to ties, first with paper and then again with rock. A fourth try gave us our loser as Heather's rock crushed my scissors. With little time to spare I quickly snuck the item into the left pocket of my jeans.

We stood near the door to Maureen's office looking at the double doors that led into the shop. A small opening between the bottom of the doors and the tile floor offered light coming from the other side. From previous visits we knew it also offered a shadow as Maureen's steps approached. A little darkness left and right meant she was stepping our way.

Heather and I watched intently, biting our lips. A minute passed by with no indication Maureen was about to come through the doors. We were just about to take a step towards the door ourselves when we saw the light under the door darken. Maureen was almost to the doors.

Suddenly, Heather and I stepped quickly towards the office and rushed inside, closing the door behind us, just as Maureen made it through the double doors.

"Who is in there?" We heard Maureen shout towards the office. "I know someone is in there, I heard the door shut."

Inside the office we heard Maureen approaching. Heather immediately opened the closet and got inside, pulling the door shut. I wasn't as lucky. With no where to hide I bent down next to the side of the couch farthest from the door, leaving me barely out of view.

I took a deep breath kneeling as low as I could as the door swung open. "I know someone is in here. You better show yourself right now."

Heather was silent in the closet. Maureen's footsteps inched further into her office.

"I will say it one more time... show yourself," she bellowed.

I couldn't decide whether to stand and reveal myself or let her find me. Maureen made the decision for me when she looked at the area where I had cowered and saw me trying to stay concealed.

"You... stand up right now," she ordered.

Shaking just a bit, I stood up and, acting like someone who had just gotten caught for real, I lowered my head.

"What are you doing in here? This is off-limits to customers."

"I, I was just looking for the bathroom," I spit out, knowing it wasn't true.

Maureen was fully into the scene. She scolded how she didn't believe me while moving closer.

"You were back here trying to steal stuff, I bet," her look grew more stern.

"No, I swear, I wasn't."

"Oh yeah? Then what is that in your pocket, young man?" She gritted her teeth while pointing to my jeans.

I could sense the genuine curiosity in her voice. The entire scene was being improvised and ad-libbed on the spot. Our little note earlier to Maureen had only told her "We want to act out a scene where we get caught stealing in the stockroom." Maureen had no idea what the item in my pocket was.

"Go on, take it out," she prodded a few times due to my stalling.

A few seconds passed before I reached my hand into my pocket and pulled out a heavy wooden spatula. I saw Maureen's eyes grow wide. Her hand came towards me and she snatched it.

It was muli-colored with mostly green covering it. It's flat end curved out just slightly at the top with its thickness topping out around half an inch at its thickest.

"Not stealing, you said, huh?" Maureen waved the spatula at me scolding.

"I should call the police on you right this minute."

"No, please," I begged her. "I won't ever steal again, I promise."

Tapping the spatula softly against her thigh I could tell she was contemplating something.

"What is your name, young man?"

I nervously told her it was Keith.

"Well, Keith, I doubt the police would really be interested in coming all the way out here for a petty shoplifter. But... you need to be taught a good lesson."

"What... what do you mean?"

"I think," she smacked the spatula against her capri-clad thigh, "you need a good spanking."

Even though I been over her knee many times I still took a step back, instinctively, hearing those words.

"But, but, I've never been spanked before."

We both knew it was a lie but Maureen was committed to the scene. "Oh, then you are in for a treat, young man. Not only are you going to experience your first spanking today... but your bare little fanny is getting paddled with this spatula."

"What? You can't mean that. Bare? As in naked?" I protested.

"Oh, I do mean it. You have been a bad boy and bad boys get their backsides spanked, and spanked bare. Now come over here right now."

Maureen sat on the couch. Walking slowly towards her she gave me a little wink. She was still holding the spatula when I stopped just to her right. Setting the spatula on her lap she reached out with both hands and took hold of my jeans at the top.

Manuevering her hands just right she had them unbuttoned in a matter of seconds.

"Wait, please, can't I just pay for the spatula instead?" I pleaded.

"Oh, but you are going to pay fo it... with your bare fanny," Maureen giggled as she unzipped my jeans and yanked them down.

With those words Maureen moved the spatula onto the cushion next to her and in one swift tug of my left arm had me over her knee.

Placing her right hand on my boxer briefs I could feel her about to pull them down. Her steady motion slowly exposed my backside.

"So you have really never been spanked?" Maureen asked while tapping the spatula on my bare bottom. "Such a cute virgin white bottom about to be roasted."

Playing the role perfectly Maureen looked past the fact that my backside was still somewhat pink from last week's visit when she had taken a leather belt to it.

"Please, ma'am, I'll do anything to not be spanked," I begged her.

There was no answer. A huge smack of the spatula landed on my right cheek, followed by several more covering both sides equally.

The spatula created a blistering sting none of the other implements she had used on me previously could produce. I lurched forward as the smacks landed one after another. After 45-50 of her hardest swats Maureen lost her grip on me and I fell off her lap.

The thud of my hitting the floor was followed shortly by a mysterious creaking of the closet door. Maureen and I both turned and looked at the door. Silence filled the office. Looking back at me Maureen stayed in character, "Who is in that closet?"

"I, I don't know," I lied, covering for my sister. It was all for naught, of course. Maureen knew Heather was in there but was playing it up.

"You," Maureen sternly said, pointing at the corner, "Get in that corner." I scurried quickly and within seconds had my bare bottom in the corner.

Turning my head just enough to see with my peripheral vision I saw Maureen toss the spatula on the couch. A determined look took the place of the lighthearted smirk she had given me.

Standing up she took several quiet steps towards the closet. Through the silence you could hear rustling from within. Heather surely wasn't trying to be quiet.

Maureen's left hand took hold of the door handle and she opened it swiftly. There, trying to hide behind a couple of hanging coats, was Heather. Wearing a tank top and skirt, she was shaking frantically as Maureen stared at her.

Not a word was spoken by Maureen. She grabbed Heather by her ear and pulled her out of the closet and to the couch. Without still saying a word she moved her hand from Heathers ear to her wrist and, in one single motion, sat on the couch while yanking Heather over her knee.

The tension in the room was fierce. Heather tried to explain, "Wait, please, you don't understand. I was only trying to keep my brother from stealing. Honest. I was trying to get him to put the item back when you came in. Please."

Those pleas, however, did not move Maureen. Heather's skirt was soon pulled up and scrunched at her hips. Her purple cotton panties all that kept her bottom from being bare.

"Young lady, you are about to be sorely mistaken thinking I would buy that excuse!" And just like that, Heather's panties were at her ankles.

"In fact, you are a VERY bad girl. Trying to throw your brother under the bus to save your own hide!" Maureen picked up the spatula and began tearing into Heather's bare backside. "You are going to get double what he got with this spatula!"

The smacks filled the room as they found Heather's naked ass continuously. I could tell even she felt the spatula was packing a much different whallop as the swats turned her bottom crimson.

I tried to keep count as Maureen lit Heather's bottom on fire. The scolding alone was tantamount to a shopkeeper dealing with a real shoplifter by paddling their naked behind. Maureen was certainly enjoying the scene.

After 60 smacks I couldn't keep up and found myself wondering what was next. Those thoughts soon were answered.

A final smack of the spatula laid into Heather's backside. She ordered Heather to join me in the corner.

Laying the spatula on her desk Maureen went to the wall and unhooked a leather strap. "Both of you, over here now!"

"Now, you both are going to learn to never steal again. Get over here and kneel on the couch and stick your bare butt out."

Heather and I whimpered our way to the couch. Kneeling first on the middle cushion Heather rested her arms against the back. Arching her back her well-paddled bottom stuck out as Maureen ordered. I followed, kneeling to Heather's right.

Standing behind us Maureen wasted no time swinging the strap down on our stretched bottoms. This was the first time Maureen had whipped our bottoms this way, and it definitely was more painful than any other way I remembered.

"Now, you are to count each lick of this strap on your backside," Maureen said with firm resolve. "You are both getting 20 hard ones. Understand?"

We both nodded but mumbled, "Yes," low enough to where it was barely audible. Flustered, Maureen swung the strap down catching us by surprise. "I said... do you understand?"

"Owwww, yes, yes, I understand," I moaned loudly.

Heather took a different approach by again trying to play the innocent card. "Yes, I understand! But, please, I didn't do anything wrong! Please let me go."

To this day I'm not sure if Heather was purposely trying to get in more trouble but trust me, it worked if she was.

Maureen swung the strap across Heather's bottom five times, "Still won't take responsibility, will you? We will see about that. Now count them out, both of you."

Utilizing a long backswing Maureen began the final countdown. Crafty, she would not always alternate between us. A few times she put the strap across Heather's or my cheeks successively, trying to get us to miscount.

When the final THWACK had hit each of our shaking fanny's Maureen went out of her way to place the strap over the couch, right next to Heather's face.

"Get over here, Keith," she motioned while still standing behind a blubbering Heather.

Heather began to move off the couch. "Oh no you don't, young lady, you stay right there," Maureen scolded.

Pulling me to her side Maureen told me to reach out and pick up the strap. Heather, sensing what was about to happen, again began pleading her case. "No, this is not fair! I was trying to get him to put the spatula back. No, please!"

"You hear that, Keith? Your sister still is trying put all 100% of the blame on you. Now take the strap and give her ten really hard licks with it. And you Heather... better fess up or he is going to give you ten more after that."

Exhilaration overtook the tears I had from being paddled and whipped. I reached back and put the strap on her bottom like I was beating a carpet. My strapping Heather is still the only time that Maureen let either of us spank the other.

"Yes, yes, I admit it. It was my idea to begin with," Heather broke. "I convinced him it would be fun to to steal from you."

Maureen smiled at having finally gotten Heather to admit it.

Taking the strap from me Maureen told me and my sister to stand in the corner. Heather, ever the good actress, tried to push Maureen's buttons further as she drug herself off the couch, sobbing. Looking over her shoulder Heather whispered "Bitch" in her direction. I could see that Maureen heard her but she let it slide. Who knows, maybe Maureen had filed that away in her head and used it as extra oomph on Heathers butt down the road.

Focusing back on the current day, I laughed. "Bitch," I said to myself in amazement that Heather had actually said that towards her.

Taking my Samsung Galaxy phone off the center console I double-tapped the screen to light up the time. It was only 8:15, still fifteen minutes to go before Maureen's shop would be open.

Setting the phone down I was just about to drift off into another memory when I was startled by a tapping on my rear window. I looked back through the mirror and saw Maureen waving through the glass.

Leaning to my right I looked out at Maureen as she peered in the side passenger door. "Keith, you are a bit early for our weekly discussion," she said, chuckling.

Smiling back, I replied that I had come out early because Heather had asked that I give her a card.

"Oh, that was nice of her. Here, come on inside with me."

Stepping out of my Jeep I shut the drivers door, leaving the windows open. Maureen shook her head with a "really" kind of expression as I clicked the key for locking the doors.

It took a few steps to get to the front door of Ye Treasures of Olde since I had parked so far away. I waited behind Maureen while she drew out her key and unlocked the door.

"You know, I just need to give you one of these keys. Then maybe you could surprise me."

The deadbolt slid open and Maureen opened the door, triggering the bell that I knew all too well.

Following her to the register Maureen put her purse on the stool behind the counter and put her keys inside.

"Now, you said Heather gave you something to give me?"

"Oh, here," I said reaching the envelope out to her, my mind still processing the thought of having a key to her shop.

"You know you could've just brought this to me this afternoon," Maureen confided.

Yeah, no," I replied, "Heather gave me clear instructions that I had to give it you right when you opened for some reason."

"Well, Heather is a little demanding sometimes, isn't she?"

We both chuckled because we knew it was true. Maureen slid a finger along the top of the envelope and carefully opened it.

She pulled the card out. Her eyes moved left to right as she read the words Heather had written inside. A look of intrique glowed off her as she carefully put the card back in the envelope.

"What did she say?" I asked.

"Just, just girly stuff," Maureen quickly responded. "You know, about keeping in touch and how she will miss our "talks." Maureen put up the air quotes in emphasis.

"So, you are still coming back around noon, right?"

"Of course, it has been a few weeks since you and I had a discussion, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has, Keith. I'll see you around noon."

Leaving her shop I walked back to my Jeep, got in, and drove back to my house, stopping to run a few errands along the way. Walking through the door and into the kitchen the house was quiet and empty.

Reaching for the door to the refrigerator I noticed a blinking "1" on the landline that hung next to it. Yes, a landline. Heather had convinced me to get one when she told me she was moving. It was for emergencies, she said, just in case I ever lost the signal to my cell. She even said she would get one at her new place, too.

I pressed the button on the answering machine and heard Heather's voice. "Hey Keith, just letting you know I finally got to my new house. I'm stepping out for the afternoon and I won't be back until later so if you call just leave a message. Oh, and have fun with Maureen. I think you should let her pick your spanking today." She finished the message with "I love you," and a "see you soon."

After drinking a glass of milk I headed to my bedroom to take a quick nap. Looking at my Alexa device its clock read 9:18am. "Alexa, set alarm for 10am," I instructed. After hearing Alexa repeat my request I laid down and fell quickly asleep.

10am came rather quickly. Arising from my bed I stretched and yawned. I had two hours until I would be back at Ye Treasures of Olde, and having a "chat" with Maureen.

Deciding to get an early start I changed clothes. After all these months of meeting with Maureen I had learned she preferred certain types of outfits, particularly bottoms, that were easily removed for the spanking. One time I had worn button-fly jeans with a belt and she grew frustrated at the lengths she had to go through to bare my backside. Let's just say her attention to my bottom that day led me to retire those jeans.

Today I decided to go simple. Pulling a purple performance polo over my head I matched it with a pair of dark gray golf-style shorts that had a simple button and zipper. Maureen usually had Heather and I strip ourselves while she watched. The control she had in overseeing our getting bare for the spanking was always nerve racking, especially for me. It was rare, like the button-fly incident, that she would do the baring herself. But still, I think she preferred clothing that was easily removed. She did not believe in wasting time stripping naked, that is for sure.

Leaving the house I still was not sure what I would write to Maureen on my weekly slip of paper. I could go with Heather's suggestion and let Maureen set my bottom ablaze as she wanted, but by the time I pulled into a spot at the diner my mind was still thinking.

This was, after all, the first time in several months that I was going to see Maureen alone. Of course, with Heather now hours away in Kansas City, today was about to become the norm, just as it had been for my first two visits with Maureen.

Within a couple steps of walking into the diner I heard Monica say, "Hey Keith! My section is over there," as she pointed to a group of booths near the window. Mimicking her pointing I motioned towards one of the booths. "Yeah, that's good. I'll be over in a minute with some coffee." Monica was always right on top of things when it came to her work. Though I had never asked her I would say she was in her early 20s. A very cute brunette, her hair was wavy with a touch of highlights. The uniform required by the diner hid what I could see was a sexy figure punctuated by a very squeezable tush.

"How you holding up?" Monica asked while setting a cup on the table. She began pouring coffee from her carafe. "What do you mean?" I replied curling my brow.

"Heather. Moving to Kansas City," she said in a "hello" kind of manner.

"Oh, she told you when she came in last week. Yeah, I'm doing okay. I mean, she left me a message this morning saying she got to her new place so I think it'll be okay."

"Big city," Monica said with reserve.

I nodded while focusing on putting sugar and Fench Vanilla creamer in my coffee, while ordering a light breakfast of pancakes and bacon.

"But," Monica continued, "I'm sure you will still enjoy seeing Maureen each week. I know I do... in theory." Monica winked and went to attend to her other tables. As she walked away she reached back with her left hand and patted her behind twice, inconspicuously, over the thick dress that made up her uniform.

"Whoa" was all I could muster to say to myself. What was that all about? What did Monica mean? Was that her way of saying she knows why Heather and I went to see Maureen each week?

Shock and disbelief had me shaking my head. A few minutes later Monica brought my order over. She was smirking, probably knowing her comment had got my mind wandering. Did I dare ask her?

Not wanting to say anything embarassing in public I kept my mouth shut, other than thanking her for bringing the food. "You're welcome, Keith. Anytime."

After she left the table I pulled out a slip of paper as I always do. It had gotten to the point where I just kept several slips in the glove box of my Jeep, along with a pen, so as to not have to remember to bring them from my house. Feeling around in the pocket of my shorts I could not find the pen I usually had. Sighing, I remembered it had run out of ink a few weeks ago. Throwing it away I had planned on putting a new one in the glove box but had forgotten to do so.

Looking out from the booth I spotted Monica. Her comment was still stirring in my head as I motioned for her to come over.

"Monica, do you have a pen I can borrow?"

"Of course, Keith." Her hand went into the pocket of the apron that covered the front of her dress. "Let me make sure it works," she said as she clicked it several times.

In her hand she cupped a small napkin she pulled from the table dispenser and scribbled something down. "Yep, it works," she relayed, folding the napkin in half. She then put the pen and napkin on the table and, again with a wink, left.

A burgeoning curiosity could not be erased. Opening the napkin I saw a phone number and the words, "Call me," written in perfect cursive, with a little heart following it.

I looked around the diner for Monica but did not see her. Carefully folding the napkin I crumbled it into my right pocket and tried to focus on my own note. The one I was going to give Maureen.

Trying to imagine what the perfect note would read for Maureen I stared at my blank slip of paper. Unlike previous Saturdays I found this day especially difficult to write something down. But, in the end, I decided on what I thought was the perfect note. Placing the last period, I folded it, put it my right pocket, and looked at my watch. 11:45am.

Searching again for Monica I saw her talking with a fellow server. Laying $20 on the table I waved in her direction and told her thanks, and to have a good day.

Monica broke away and lightheartedly skipped my way, catching me at the door. "You too." A third wink shot right at me.

The sun had brightened up ftom the early morning cool breeze. Walking out into the light I looked back into the diner through the front windows. Monica was barely visible but I caught a glimpse of her pouring water into a customers cup. I knew I had to make it to Maureen's but Monica's comment had thrown me for a loop.

Putting Monica on the back burner I focused on the bottom burner I was about to get at Maureen's. Step by step I made my way to Ye Treasures of Olde.

The bell jingled above the door as it opened. I was holding my phone in my right hand and, with a quick glance, saw it was five minutes to noon. Right on time in Maureen's book.

"Keith, is that you?" Maureen asked from out of view.

"Yes, Maureen. Where are you?" I answered moving my head around trying to see where in the shop she was.

"Over by the big armoire near the stockroom door. I'll be up at the register in a few minutes."

Moseying around the shop slowly I got to the register and pulled the note from the right front pocket of my shorts. Setting the slip on the register, I propped it up against the old-time glass that displays the price.

It wasn't too long before Maureen came around the corner. She had with her a wooden shelf from the armoire. "A couple of the little nobs that hold him up broke," she said disappointedly. "I will need to get some new ones prior to selling it." Maureen leaned the shelf against the wall behind the counter.

"Is this for me?" Maureen asked after noticing the folded slip of paper on the register.

Nodding yes I hoped she would like the idea I had for this week's discussion.

Picking up the slip she unfolded it and read it to herself. A look of intrique came to her face. "Interesting. Very interesting," she said with captivation. "6...1...5..." she started reading aloud.

Wait! What? I thought to myself in disbelief. 6...1...5? More numbers followed. I reached into my right front pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. It was my note to Maureen. What was she reading? It hit me when I heard the words, "Call me." I had accidently propped up the slip with Monica's phone number on it.

"It looks like someone has a female crushing on him." The way Maureen looked as she handed the slip back struck me. It was a feeling that she knew that phone number somehow.

"So, is that the note you meant for me or am I to read your mind?" Maureen said in a snooty voice, pointing to the other slip I was holding.

"Yes, yes, sorry, this one is for you," I fumbled for the words.

Taking the note, Maureen, her interest piqued by the phone number, asked with a seemingly deliberate intent, "Is she pretty?" as she unfolded the real note.

Flushed with a bit of embarrassment I replied, rather succinctly that she was very pretty.

"Hmmm, I see." Her eyes then dropped to read what I had written.

Her eyes then raised up at me, "I was hoping you would write this today."

Maureen then looked back down at the note, and read it aloud. "Maureen, instead of me saying or picking how I want to be spanked today. I leave it to you." I had taken Heather's advice.

I could sense Maureen already had an idea brewing. "I think..." she began before pausing mid-sentence.

"You remember a few months ago," she continued, "the shoplifting idea?"

"I do." My reply was a little solemn.

"Well then, let's just say you didn't learn your lesson the first time, young man." Maureen chortled. She seemed very amused at the thought of catching me stealing a second time.

"Should I... then?" I asked while pointing towards the back of the store.

"Yes, go into the stockroom and... steal." she snickered.

I had just walked through the double doors into the stockroom when I heard the bell ring. Stopping in my tracks I remembered that Maureen had not locked the front door yet. She had come straight to me from the area where the armoire is located. She must've opened the door prior to locking it, probably to ensure it shut just right, I thought to myself.

Making my way into the stockroom I looked for an item to "steal."

From the previous shoplifting scene we acted out I knew Maureen would be coming through the double doors in about ten minutes. Searching row to row, shelf to shelf, I scoured trying to find the perfect item to get caught with.

A shiny object caught my eye on a shelf down the last row. It was a silver butterfly brooch with rhinestones of purple, blue, gold, and green adorning it's wings. Heavier than I originally thought, I picked it up and was taken in by its attention to detail. The colored gems lit up in the bright fluorescent light radiating down from the ceiling.

Pocketing the item I made my way back towards the open area of the stockroom. It had been in that same open area where Maureen had first turned me over her knee and wore my bare backside out with the wooden bathbrush. Coming around the corner of the shelving unit closest to that area I saw Maureen.

"What are you doing back here?" She barked at me, already fully into character. "Wait a minute... didn't I catch you stealing a few months ago?" Her words were sharp with disdain.

"N... no ma'am," I replied nervously.

"Yes I did, you are that same boy I caught back here maybe three months ago. Keith, isn't it?"

I stood frozen. I hadn't expected Maureen to come in the back so soon.

"Are you serious? You really came back to try to steal from me again? After that bottom blistering I gave you after the first time? Empty your pockets!"

Fumbling my hands into my pockets I turned them inside out. "See... I'm not stealing," I professed. Sure enough, nothing had fallen out. Then Maureen noticed my left hand was closed.

"What is that in your hand?"

"Noth... nothing," the lie came out as I moved my hands behind my back.

Lunging forward Maureen reached around me and pulled my hands forward. Grabbing my left hand she forced it open, revealing the butterfly brooch.

Confiscating the piece of jewelry she stammered, "Not stealing, you say? Explain this?" She shook the brooch towards me.

Before I could even think of a lie Maureen had taken my arm and began marching me into the office.

"I guess you need another lesson, young man."

Entering the office Maureen set the brooch on the desk and pushed me over the arm of the couch. With no warning she started smacking my bottom with her hand. Despite being only her hand and it being over my shorts her smacks stung and had me kicking my legs.

"Ow, please stop. I promise I won't steal again."

"I have heard that before, young man." The spanking stopped. "Now, get up and take those shoes off and shorts down. I want your backside bare!"

Rising to my feet I reached down and unbuttoned my shorts. The sound of the zipper opening followed. I looked over at Maureen. She was standing just off to the side of her desk, her arms folded in front, with a scowled look on her face.

Gulping, I slid my hands around my waist and gently dropped my shorts, and underwear, to my ankles.

"Kick them out from your feet." Maureen ordered.

The toes on my right foot curled. I stretched the ankle slightly and flung the shorts and underwear away, maybe a couple of feet.

"You see that wall?" Maureen asked while pointing to the length of wall just to the right of couch. "Bring me what you think you deserve for stealing from me a second time."

Breathing heavily I turned and faced the wall. My bare bottom was already showing pink from her hand spanking. From left to right hung a wood paddle, wooden spoon, leather strap, wooden bathbrush, and wooden spatula. I shivered as I scanned each one.

Maureen, though, was not having any of my indecisiveness. Grumbling, she stepped forward and took the wooden bathbrush off its hook. "Enough stalling," she exclaimed.

Grabbing my arm once again she yanked me to the couch. As the usual Maureen quickly sat down while simultaneously pulling me over her knee. My pinkened bare bottom began turning dark cherry red as the brush was smacked across each cheek with relentless clout.

Tears immediately began falling. Maybe it was because it had been a couple weeks since my last discussion with Maureen, but there was no doubt she was into the scene just as much as the previous shoplifting spanking months prior, if not more so.

Her scolding was powerful. "If I ever even catch you in my shop at all in the future I am going to tie you down and take a belt to your bare backside."

My squirming over her knee had no effect on dodging the brush. It continued to rap down.

Finally, Maureen delivered ten wholly loud thwacks of the brush to finish off the paddling. She pushed me off her lap and I lay on the floor coiled into a ball desperately rubbing my swollen backside.

"Off the floor and into that corner, young man."

I crawled on my hands and knees a few seconds before wobbling to my feet. With a whimpering demeanor I put my nose in the corner.

"Now you stay right there. And don't you dare turn around!"

"Yes... yes, ma'am," was all I could say.

Behind me I could hear Maureen tapping her fingernails on her desk, just waiting to see if I turned around. I didn't dare do so.

The office was silent. Only the sounds of my constant sniffling broke the quietness.

"You know, Keith, I seem to remember the last time I caught you stealing I also caught your sister. What was her name?"

"Hea... Heather," I replied through the tears.

"Heather. That's right. Hmmmm."

From the corner I heard Maureen hang the brush back on its hook.

"You keep in this corner, Keith. And put your hands on your head. No one said you could rub that blistered bottom of yours."

Maureen then left the office. Through my heavy breathing I could hear Maureen on the phone just outside the door. I tried to listen in but her voice was muted to where all I heard was something similar to Charlie Brown's teacher.

Standing in the corner alone I contemplated moving my hands down. That notion was quashed when Maureen stepped back into the office.

With a tapping foot directly behind me Maureen began, "You know, Keith, it occurred to me that the last time I caught you stealing..." she paused, "Your sister was adamant that she was back here only trying keep you from stealing. I didn't believe her and I wore her bare fanny out for lying."

My mind was trying to process what she was saying. From the side of my eyes I saw her hand reach up and unhook the leather strap. Swishing it through the air behind me it's whoosh sound sent butterflies through my body.

"Should I have believed her, Keith? I mean, here you are... having gotten caught stealing again. So, young man, was she telling the truth?"

Maureen did not allow me to answer. She pulled me out of the corner and had me face down, backside up, over the arm of the couch in no time flat. "Face your head to the right, Keith. I want you staring at the back of the couch cushion."

My head turned to the right. My vision could only see the cushion upon which you would lean back on.

A single swish of the strap came down on my bottom. My arms failed out across the cushions. It was followed by another, and then another.

"Now, think carefully... was Heather telling the truth?"

I moved my head slightly. "No, it was her idea, I swear."

The strap lit fire on my bottom two more times. "Are you sure?" Maureen brought it down ten more times in rapid strokes.

"Owwwww, please... yes, yes, she was telling the truth. She saw me come back here and take the item. Heather was trying to get me to put it back," I yelped out, admitting what Maureen was suspecting.

Five more lashes bit into my bare bottom.

"So when your sister was pleading with me to not paddle her bare behind you just kept your mouth shut and let me do it?" The strap struck again several times.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I cried out over and over again.

"You shouldn't be saying sorry to me, Keith. Your sister got the paddling of her life all because of you."

The strap found its mark again. "Yeow, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Heather," I blurted out too many times to count.

"Not good enough," a second voice suddenly beckoned from behind me.

My arms immediately propped my chest off the couch and my head spun to the left. Standing just inside the doorway of the office was Heather.

My jaw dropped. What was Heather doing here? How was she here? She was supposed to be in Kansas City! My body sank back onto the couch cushion. My bare backside still pointed up and out.

I knew I had to stay in character. Maureen had always said that no matter what the scene was we were acting out to never break out of it no matter the ad-lib. Well, damn, I laid there thinking this was the biggest ad-lib of them all.

"Awe, look Maureen, he is speechless," Heather noted with a laugh. "What's wrong, bro? Surprised to see me?"

I mustered up the ability to ask, "Wha... what are you doing here?" My question kept me in character but offered some semblance of clarity.

"Maureen just called me and said she caught you stealing again. I told her I wasn't surprised."

I trembled. Maureen couldn't have just called her. Heather had left a message this morning saying she had gotten to Kansas City. My heart fluttered... or did she?

Heather walked over and patted my backside.

"Now that Keith has finally admitted to stealing all on his own last time, I seem to remember him taking hold of that strap and laying it across my bare butt ten times as hard as he could," Heather summarized, moving her hand down my back towards my shoulders.

"You know, I think you are right, Heather," Maureen responded while shaking the strap in my direction. "What shall we do about that?"

"Hmmm, well, I don't know. What do you think, Keith?" Heather bent down to look at my face. She then stood straight and tapped my bare bottom another couple of times.

"Well, Keith, your sister asked you a question," Maureen piped in.

I closed my eyes and turned my head back towards the right. "She should... spank me with the strap..."

"That is a mighty fine idea," Maureen gleefully accepted. "Wouldn't you agree, Heather?"

"Absolutely, I would never thought of that idea," Heather laughed, giving my backside a few more taps.

Heather and Maureen were just toying with my agony.

"But," Heather pondered, "how many licks of this strap should I give him?" I looked back to the left. Heather was taking the strap from Maureen.

"Well, since Keith gave you ten it seems fair he needs to get double that," Maureen debated.

"Double? I am thinking triple," Heather told Maureen. "Really teach him not to steal and then blame me for it."

"Double or triple. 20 or 30. You know what, he has been such a bad boy I say combine them. 50," Maureen proclaimed.

"50? That is a nice round number. And he definitely needs his little butt to be blazing."

Heather sashayed the couple steps back to me. "50 spanks of this strap, little brother. Aren't you glad you suggested I get my payback by strapping your bare behind?"

My head didn't go back to the right. I buried my face in the cushion while my hands gripped it.

A loud swish in the air was followed by the cracking of the leather on my backside. Four more strikes followed. "Ah, you didn't count," Heather cackled, "I guess I'll start over, right Maureen?"

"Tsk, tsk, those are the rules, Keith."

Another five landed, each one punctuated by the correct number coming from my raspy voice.

Heather showed her pure disdain for my having let her take the brunt of the spanking in the last shoplifting scene. She was acting like a disgruntled sister but as the strap kept striking I could tell she was maybe not really acting.

"Learning your lesson, Keith? Stealing... not taking responsibility... letting me take the blame... you are not going to sit comfortably for a long time."

At one point Maureen sat on the cushion next to where my hands were and held them down to keep me from trying to get in the way of the strap.

A final flurry landed with the echo resonating in the office. The last smack and the number 50 filled the room.

The sobbing was turbulent. I continued to lay over the arm of the couch. My bare backside battered worse than any previous spanking.

"Now... you are never going to steal again, are you, young man?" Heather scolded. "He better not, at least not in my store," Maureen added.

"Get your butt in the corner," they both said, almost in unison.

I could barely pick myself up. Teetering wildly I found my way to the corner. My bottom felt numb. Dancing from one foot to the other I tried to ease the pain.

A couple of minutes passed listening to Heather and Maureen giggle and whisper about my blistered bottom. Then, almost comically, Maureen said, "And... end scene."

Turning me around Maureen gave me a big hug, followed by one from Heather.

Through my tears I tried to focus. "I... I thought you were in Kansas City already? You left a message this morning."

"That's what I wanted you to think," Heather replied, grinning. "It was all part of the plan."

"The plan?" I was totally lost.

"Yeah, the plan I started devising the moment I knew I was moving to Kansas City. Remember the card you gave Maureen this morning?"

I looked at Maureen. She picked up the card from her desk and read it out loud. "Maureen, when Keith comes back this afternoon he is going to tell you to spank him however you want. Tell him you want to act out another shoplifting scene. Once he goes in the back let me in the shop. I will be waiting just outside. I want to whip his bare butt just like he whipped mine last time. A little payback, if you know what I mean."

Heather then explained how she stayed at her friend Jasmine's apartment last night and purposely left me the voicemail saying that not only she was in Kansas City, but to let Maureen pick the spanking. She continued that she knew I couldn't resist letting Maureen pick for once.

"Wait a minute. When I first came into the stockroom I heard the bell above the door. You mean, that was you coming into the shop?"

"You got it," Heather said with a "gotcha" point of her finger towards me. "I was sitting at the register just waiting."

Maureen then continued, "When I left the office after paddling your fanny with the brush, I called Heather on the stockroom phone to tell her to come back to the office in a few minutes. That gave me time to get you to "confess" in front of her."

I couldn't believe it. It had all been a ruse. From the card, to the voicemail, to having me confess... everything. Standing in the middle of the office I was still buck naked from the waist down, sans my socks.

"You're lucky, too," Heather whispered in my ear before shooting a wink at Maureen.

"Lucky? How so?" I nervously asked, wondering where she was headed.

"Oh... never you mind." The wheels in her head were clearly turning.

I wanted to know what she meant. Thoughts rambled through my head. Did she mean it could have been worse? Did she have something else up her sleeve? What was it?

"Wait, tell me?" I demanded softly.

"In due time, little brother... maybe." she was enjoying watching me protest.

Heather walked back towards Maureen and, in a low voice, said something to her. Maureen nodded yes.

"What? What did you say to Maureen?" I stammered, putting my foot down.

"Don't take that tone with me," Heather rigidly spoke back. "If I were you I would get those shorts on and get out of here before you end up learning exactly what I meant."

Chills hit me. I took a couple steps and bent down to pick up my underwear and shorts. Pulling them on I zipped and buttoned the shorts. "Now, don't let the doors hit you in the butt on your way out," Heather said with a tee-hee.

"What about you? Aren't you coming?"

Heather glanced over to Maureen. "Not just yet. Maureen and I have some things to... talk about."

My cheeks blushed. I knew what that was code for.

Maureen smiled and came over to me. I was just finishing putting my shoes on. "Here, let me walk you out."

Just as Maureen and I reached the door to the office, I turned to Heather, "Promise you will call for real when you get to Kansas City?"

She promised she would and waved as if to shoo me out. I then saw her pull a slip of paper out of her pocket, and put it on the desk.

Maureen and I walked out into the stockroom and then to the front door of the shop. Turning the deadbolt lever she unlocked the door.

As I was about to step outside Maureen tugged at the back of my shirt. Spinning me around half way Maureen stood holding a key. "I almost forgot. This is for you." I took the key and smiled. "Remember what I said this morning?" She asked.

I tried to remember but ultimately admitted I didn't.

She leaned in, rubbed my arm, and murmured, "Surprise me."