Preface: There is no
other name this story could have. It is yet another story inspired
by a drawing by Ann. In this case however, I deviated from the script
she suggested. The girls *do* get caught, and Ann pays the price
for her illicit fun.
This story features
the masturbation of a boy by two girls and a young girl getting
spanked. If this is something that offends you, then please leave
I The Diddlin'
Pamela was the oldest
kid on the block. She was barely 13, but to a 10-year-old like me
she seemed like an adult. Whatever game Pamela wanted to play all
the other kids would play. Her word was practically law, and the
other kids sort of looked at her as a second mother.
In fact, she often played
"mom" when we played house which we did almost all the time, much
to the dismay of the boys who would prefer more "manly" games like
cops and robbers. Occasionally we'd humor them, but since we outnumbered
them 10 girls to 3 boys, they rarely got to play "boy" games. Not
that there was all that much boy to go around anyway. Matt, the
oldest, was only 11, his brother Ed was 5, and one of my friends,
Emily had a 5-year-old brother as well.
I remember the day very
well; it was Matt's 11th birthday. All us kids were invited to his
birthday party. Among other things, Matt received a policeman's
kit which contained a nightstick, a badge, a toy gun, a pair of
toy handcuffs, a flashlight, and an assortment of small items that
a policeman might carry.
Naturally, he was interested
in playing with his new toys and pestered us girls. None of us were
interested in playing unless Pam was also going to play. Initially,
she said "no." Eventually all the other kids went home. Pam and
I helped Matt's mom clean up after the party. "Thank you, girls,"
she said. "I have to drive Mrs. Henderson over the other side of
town to pick up her car. Now I won't be so late."
After his mom left,
Matt kept pestering us to play, and Pam finally said yes, but not
until she got that funny glint in her eye like I saw her get whenever
she thought of something particularly naughty to do.
"OK, we can play," she
told Matt. "But we're going to play by my rules." (So what else
is new, I thought). "I'm going to be the cop, and you're going to
be the robber."
"OK" Matt agreed.
Pam looked at me and
gave me a wink and a smile. I was sure she was up to something.
"OK, crook." Pam said,
slipping into her role. "Put your hands behind your back."
Matt dutifully obeyed.
She slapped the handcuffs on him.
"Ann, lead the way down
the basement," she said to me. "We're taking this bad boy downtown
for some questioning."
I paraded out in front
feeling kind of funny, trying to figure out Pam's game. I knew it
was going to be more than just cops and robbers. Matt followed me,
and Pam brought up the rear.
Pam directed Matt to
a bench in the basement. She told him, "You stand here. We have
some questions to ask you."
She then pulled me aside
and whispered in my ear, "You promise not to tell anyone what we're
going to do?"
I whispered back, "What
are we going to do?"
"You have to promise
first, or we won't do anything," she countered.
"OK," I agreed.
Pam had some more questions
for me. "Have you ever seen a boy?"
I looked back at her
with such a blank stare that she knew I didn't know what she meant,
so she repeated the question, "Did you ever see a boy's thing?"
Boys have many "things, but I had no doubt as to which "thing" Pam
I nodded, "Sally Henderson
and me saw her little brother make pee when we were in the second
grade," I proudly announced.
"Good," Pam confirmed,
"Then you know what one looks like."
I started to get excited,
my mind jumped ahead in her game. We were going to see Matt's "thing."
I knew it was called a penis, but I couldn't even make myself say
the word in my head.
Pam continued, "Did
you do anything with it?"
"Like what?" I asked
"Like diddle it."
"Touch it and make it
hard," she replied.
"I don't think so,"
I said uncertainly. I knew for a fact we didn't "do anything;" all
we did was watch him pee. Period. He put it back in his fly, and
that's the last time either of us (me for sure) had seen a penis.
"You want to do it now?"
"OK, remember, you can't
tell absolutely anybody!" She warned.
"OK," I nodded.
"Good," she said aloud,
"then it's settled."
Turning to Matt who
had been standing by so patiently while all this was going on, she
said, "Ann and I are going to strip search you to make sure you
don't have any guns or knives hidden on you."
Matt's mouth opened
and his lips waved a couple of times, but nothing coherent came
out of it.
"You take his left side,
and I'll take his right side." Pam said. I sat down on the bench
and wrapped both my legs around his leg to hold him in place and
keep him from walking off.
Pamela went to work
on him as calmly as if she were undressing a doll. She opened up
his belt, undid the button on his jeans, and pulled the zipper down.
The pants simply slid down to his knees.
"Please don't" Matt
"I'm sorry," Pam replied,
"but we have to do this. It's all part of police procedure."
Pam looked over at me
and said, "Are you ready?"
My mouth was too dry
to respond so I merely nodded.
"Here goes," my girlfriend
in crime said.
"NO" said Matt.
With that, she pulled
down his underpants!
I saw his thing. I was
surprised by what I saw. When I saw Sally's brother's penis, it
was little. It almost looked like a pinkie sticking out. This was
entirely different. Matt's penis was much larger than his pinkie.
Also he had a couple of things hanging down underneath in the back.
I don't know if Sally's brother had those, all we saw was his penis
coming out of his fly. To say I was fascinated is an understatement.
Pam and I sat there
in silence for a couple of minutes looking at a prime piece of boy
Pam reached out and
started squeezing it and rolling it around in her fingers.
Matt merely whimpered.
I couldn't tell if he was complaining or enjoying it.
I watched as Matt's
penis grew before my eyes. It became bigger and stiffer. In the
brief moments when Pam let go of it, I could see that it was now
hard enough to stand up all by itself.
"Come on, Ann. You try
it." Pam encouraged.
I didn't need a second
invitation. I was curious as all heck about this thing boys carry
around between their legs. Apparently it could do things other than
It felt so funny in
my hands. It was hard, yet squishy. It felt kind of rubbery, but
hot. All at the same time. I touched it like I saw Pam touch it.
Both of us just sort
of jiggled it around making it harder and harder and redder and
redder. I was giggling and having a ball!
Matt's eyes were closed
as if by squeezing them shut, he could make us go away.
I had no intention of
going away. This was fun!
All of a sudden, I noticed
that my fingers were wet. I thought for a second that Matt had peed
on them, but when I put them to my nose to sniff it, it didn't smell
like pee. It was clear, and it was slippery. I asked Pam, "What's
"Didn't they teach you
anything in sex-ed class," she replied, "It's sperm. It means that
he likes what we're doing to him."
I looked at her dubiously.
I didn't care what it was, all I knew was that I was having fun.
Part of it was because I was doing something new. A bigger part
was because I was doing something naughty or forbidden.
"Let's do it some more
and make him make more." I suggested.
When I got a chance
to handle his penis on my own, I noticed something else; when I
rubbed it, it jerked. So, I played with it like this for a while.
And every now and then, a drop or two of this "sperm" came out.
Then Pam had an idea.
"Let's do it faster and then we can make the sperm come out faster."
That sounded like a
good idea, so we really started rubbing it fast and hard. In a couple
of minutes I heard Matt give out a grunt. At the same time, all
this white stuff came spurting out the end of his penis. It was
hot and slippery. I was scared, I was afraid we broke something.
Even Pam was scared
as she said, "Oh my God!" She said that over and over again until
she could ask Matt if he was OK.
Matt nodded. "Yes, I'm
OK. I think." Then he shuttered and started crying.
Pam and I felt sorry
for him so we let him go. We took off his handcuffs and let him
pull his pants up. Pam went to get some toilet paper to clean up
the mess we made.
"Not a word to anyone."
II The Spankin'
I know I didn't tell
anyone, and I was pretty sure Pam didn't tell anybody, and I was
certain that Matt was too embarrassed to tell anybody; but somehow
the word got out. I think maybe Pam told some other girls, and they
told other girls, and oh well. Some way or another the word got
to my mom.
"Ann, what were you
and Pam thinking of when you diddled Matt?" Mom asked.
"Actually mom, it was
a fun thing to do. You should have seen what Pam and I did to him."
That's what I wanted to say. Instead, what came out of my mouth
was, "nothing." "Nothing" is usually the only answer you can give
to this kind of question.
"You should know better.
At your age! What a shameful thing you did." Mom went on to give
me a lecture on decency and modesty and things that a young lady
simply doesn't do and finished up with the sentence any ten-year-old
hates to hear, "Wait until your father gets home."
Mom sent me up to my
room to "think about what I had done." It was an odd request. I
had been thinking about it all week long. It was fun! It wasn't
fun thinking about the inevitable spanking I was going to get after
dinner that night. I always wondered why dad dispensed discipline
after dinner as if it were some sort of preferred time.
I heard my dad come
home, and some muttering as mom apparently filled him in on what
she found out. The moment of reckoning was drawing closer. Several
minutes later I heard my mom's voice calling, "Ann, dinner." Dinner
was eaten in absolute silence. I hated this part of the punishment.
The waiting and the anticipation were worse than the spanking itself.
It seemed that on nights when I had a whippin' coming, that dad
would take extra time with dinner just to give me more time to think
about what was coming.
Finally, he declared
dinner over simply by pushing his chair back and lighting up his
pipe. The ritual lighting of the pipe was the signal that dinner
was officially over. I wondered that if dad gave up smoking if we'd
have to sit at the dinner table forever. He then spoke his first
words to me since I got home. "Ann, help your mother clean up."
This I did, again in
total silence. When I was done, my mom opened the kitchen door and
merely swept her arm to indicate that I should proceed to the living
room. That was another part of the spanking ritual; spankings were
always given in the living room. We hardly ever used this room for
any other purpose even the furniture was covered with plastic to
preserve it. Company typically visited in the kitchen and dinning
As I entered the room,
dad was moving "the chair" to the wall in the center of the room.
We had several chairs in the room, but "the chair" was the spanking
chair, and no other chair would do. Nor could the chair stay in
its usual place. It had to be moved to the center of the room. It
was as if I were being put on display as I was being spanked. There
was no one else to see me except mom, and I wondered if I had brothers
or sisters if they would have been invited to watch.
Mom kept on walking
and went upstairs. I knew what that meant. Apparently this was a
major offense. Mom was going for the hairbrush. I could hear the
stairs creak under her weight as she went up, and creak again as
she came down. Hairbrush spankings always took a little longer.
The actual spanking was rather short, shorter even than a belt spanking
and much shorter than a hand spanking. The process just seemed longer
because of the need to retrieve the hairbrush and that ominous stair
Dad simply said, "Get
over here" and without his indicating exactly where "here" was,
I assumed my position automatically over his lap. Mom handed him
the brush. Dad sighed as if this were a chore he would really not
have to do. He lifted up my peach-colored dress, the very one I
wore the day Pam and I diddled Matt, and brought the brush down
on my pantied behind.
Now, as an adult, I
have read a lot of stories about spanking, and invariably the parent
spanking the child is giving a speech in which the words are timed
with each spank. "Do" "you" "know" "how"
"naughty" "you" "are?" This is not the way
it went at our house. My dad was a silent spanker. He simply delivered
well-metered spanks to my rear end. I will say this for dad; his
rhythm was predictable. I knew exactly when the next blow would
come. Not that it made it any easier for them to take.
While dad was silent,
I was anything but. After a couple of spanks I was crying and promising
my parents that I would never do it again. It really didn't matter
if I meant it or not. Dad kept spanking. Apparently he had a predetermined
number of spanks dictated by the seriousness of the offense. Diddling
boys was apparently a very serious offense as I was over his lap
for quite a while!
After the spanking came
the lecture. Dad would make me stand up and face him and then he'd
tell why I was punished. "Good girls don't do that kind of thing,"
he told me. "You're too young to know about some things and when
you get older your mom will explain these things to you. Normally,
I would make you go and apologize to Matt for what you did to him,
but I think in this case he's already suffered enough. It was very
difficult for your mother to listen to his mom explain to her what
you two girls did. Your mom had to apologize for you. I think it's
your mother you need to apologize to."
Through my tears, I
told my mom that I was sorry and that I would never do it again.
She gave me a hug, a small kiss on the head, a swat on my sore behind,
and sent me off to bed early.
The next day I saw Pam
at the burger place. She sat down and I noticed the grimace on her
face. I guess even big girls can get spanked, too!