"Right hand swoops down fanny-wards to wallop back of skirt unmistakable resilience of female rump rewarding me with what I'd been fantasying with this last half week."

Japanese Shoplifters

Firstly I can't stand behind all the details of this story I've told it so many times. To impress guys in a Bar, to titillate a lady I was trying to get to try a play spanking, to gross out my sister. Oh, the central facts are true: the scent of lily-of-the-valley perfume, the resiliant bounce/wobble of bum-flesh under the crack of my palm, the smell of those damn gallois cigarettes. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I had fallen on my feet after 3-4 years of bumming around after failing my way through Secondry Education (years later, 15 years, I got my Degree but that's another story) not a job I could boast to my mother about behind the counter at a dirty book shop as we called it back then on the edge of the slums in a big city I deliberately do not name. Very tame stuff by todays standard no erect male members, no gay stuff at all - that would have got us closed down the same afternoon despite the backhanders the owner paid the local cops to turn a blind eye. Good selection for the time, though, & relevant to this story a half dozen 16 mm reels of stag party stuff strictly under the counter for discriminating customers, mostly mild (todays standard) spanking stuff - The New Girl at the Convent, The Brat Next Door. They were the only thing in the shop that was definitely illegal but hell, we were men in our twenties who didn't really believe that tommorrow ever comes. The POINT is this stuff wasn't something we could winge about to the guy on the beat.

Our customers were a mixed lot. We got whores from the local 42 St couple of block down their john's rather trying to impress them. Their money was a good as anyone else's as far as I was concerned. The usual grubby mac brigade. More problematic ,as we say nowadays was what passed for the local smart set Teen and preteens of the local drug barons and their hangers on. Our place had become a cool place to hang out. They had money but they weren't worth the trouble they brought more fighters among that crowd than anyone else. But I wasn't the owner and you didn't say NO to these people Daddy Might get cross. A trash-can through the window would be the mildest form of sanction. But Yeah, you're ahead of me.

They weren't bad kids once you set aside their general my-shit-don't-stink attitude and the fact that they had never done a days graft in a lifetime with exceptions. Prime was (let's call them) the Lee twins within spitting distance of 19 dressed identically in tailored outfits with attitude dripping off them. Treated me as the hired help. Managed to keep my hands off them (suicide ain't my style) and they spent a lot which helped. Until crunch time came around. There was a party they wanted some of the raunchiest film reels as entertainment. If the cops had raided I could have done 10 years as “A Corrupter of Minors" - Daddy wouldn't have put up Big Bucks to keep my ass out of the slammer. No way. Was firm. Big Mistake Nobody much was in the habit of saying NO to these girls. Shouldn't have said ADULTS ONLY. 19 has a lot of pride and I made them look bad in front of those they hung-out with.

Me I thought I'd been fair but firm. Went off rather well I thought. Next day there was a stand off between 2 studs in the magazine rack nasty but nobody actually pulled a knife so... Got back behind the counter and there was something obvious by its absence the films and our pair of daddys darlings. Got to say they had balls for a bunch of dressed to the nines only just adults. They must have walked out with a pile of prime quality porn walking couple of feet behind my turned back to reach the door. Wouldn't have risked it myself. But admiration and a desire to clap them affectionately on the back wasn't in my mind. For one thing the films were coming out of my wages. For another it was a rough district - wimps were stepped on and I had volunteered for Loser of the Year.

They couldn't resist coming in regular after that. Titbits about what a great party it had been uttered to be overheard. They knew I knew I knew they knew ..Two out of three of us found it very funny. In a democracy that's supposed to make it OK. One of the Prostitutes could write Japanese characters. I got a piece of white card lettered by her in Red

盗人は打たれる。彼女のバトックは開いた手によって平手で打つある

(Translated) SHOPLIFTERS WILL BE SPANKED

THIS MEANS YOU !!

Dunno what I expected contrite shame maybe. Nah, the Japanese late adolescent giggle is a very irritating noise. Plus one of them bent over in front of the other while her twin pantomined spanking the seat of her dress. The weighted hunk of wood we kept undeer the cash register was in my hand in an instant what the hell I meant to do with it dunno. They scarpered like frightened school girls. Lucky for both of us. Making them lose their cool was the only victory I got. It wasn't enough.

There are various fantasy versions of what I did about it. THE DIRTY HARRY or direct action gambit. Wait until they dared to show their faces around my shop again. Drag then screaming by their hair into the back warehouse. Cut their clothes from them, bum-baste until I couldn't raise my Hand in anger and dump them squalling like scauldeed cats in front of their Father's House. Then there's the MODESTY BLAISE Gambit dress up in jet-black overalls blackup and a quick grab-&snatch at closing time round the back of the Local disco onto a bit of waste ground on to the fanny-warming & as previous. Then there's the CLEVER BUGGER Gambit were I use my noggin and find out some dread secret of the pair blackmail them into bending over and apply corporal sanction & as previous. Other even more juvenile occured to me over the next 2 days as I did the slow burn. All had the same defect I would have ended up seriously dead. Their father's People; never mess with professionals. What the Hell I'd of done dunno probably some half assed version of option one followed by leaving town with no forwarding address. Couple of thousand worth of stock and a soft job for an afternoon as THE PUNISHER (junior grade). I'd likely have done it though Orientals aren't the only people to hate to lose face.

The Truth is a lot more banal their pert little hineys almost literally fell into my lap. But more of that in final part of our exciting saga.

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Monday morning the heavy boys moved in. OK OK there was only one and he was hardly Schwarzenegger seedy disc bouncer past his prime but the girls father strong arm was behind him. It wouldn't have been safe to take a rain check.

As Heinlein says somewhere some times in your life you catch up on your regrets. I was ready to do the most crawly apologia this man had ever seen. I had actually DONE anything just thought about it but did think that would get me anywhere. To cut to the chase we arrived at a gym and low class boxing dive that the Big Boss owned and for some reason it was deserted. Bad sign.

I was hustled into a back room and confronted with Daddy and his little darlings. Scared shitless to be honest. Wasn't given a chance to speak. Daddy pronounced that he had found certain of my wares in the girls bedroom and they had confessed that they had stolen them. Was this true? "Tell the truth and shame the Devil" My old mother usta say. Bet she'd never been in a fix like this. But it seemed safer to agree to be agreeable so I did. This was a shame on the family Papa pontificated and he'd be grateful if I let the story die in this room. I'd of agreed to anything. But now we come to setting things straight. You have threatened to spank my daughters? Well Yeah but I didn't MEAN...You are not up to the task? Well I suppose ... o.k. Chan, take them down to locker room C.

Party of me and sullen Teens taken down endless rickety staircases into your bog-standard mens locker room with cast concrete walls and you know lockers.

Door clangs shut behind

Slence of the grave

Ok girls do we do things the easy ...... You're put in a cliche situation you start acting like a stuffed shirt.I guess

The 2 girls stared at me with withering scorn, four eyes eye balling me under black bags daring me to make the first move; then a flicker of light and shadow and they were gone into the shadows of the dimly lit room. In a fair race over a track who knows I was in fair shape in those days but so were they-who-must-be-spanked but who was playing fair? We were in a locker room with the door barred from outside, maybe 15' by 20' not counting the space taken up by the lockers. Zig and zag bluff and counter bluff your opponent out which way your gonna dodge. It was repeat russian-roulette with me as the croupier and no way to opt out of the game. 2 minutes their luck held and I got nothing but handfull of empty air. But as I said if you win you gotta play again when the house wins it wins.

Suddenly my left hand was fumbling with strands of shoulder length hair as a reward for one of my clumsy lunges. Head jerks back but rewarded by nothing more than self-agonising. I screw hand into a solid grip bowing girl towards me in a half-crouch not an ideal bend over posture but it'll do. Right hand swoops down fanny-wards to whallop back of skirt unmistakable resilience of female rump rewarding me with what I'd been fantasying with this last half week.

Never turn your back in a fight. I got teen girl on my back (her sister). Apparently sisterhood was powerful even in those days but again it wasn't a fair fight I'm a big man 6' 2" and in those days worked out (nowadays with my Simpson beer gut who knows) I could have knocked out the girls with a couple of punches each but was still leary of their father this was a tanning a smack-bot fest. A bloody nose I could talk my way out of. A tooth I dunno. So I was in a half-assed way fighting according to my notion of the Marquis of Queensbury against 2 opponents who were going full out for blood. Still you do what you can.

I shoved the spankee before me away and off her feet swung the wildcat clumsily choke-holding me around to my front into a clinch against my chest -a frenzied parody of a mothers cuddle pinning her arms locked against my chest while with the other hand I unbuttoned her trousers and yanked them down to her knees to hobble the manaid. That done I plied the palm of my free hand against her panties-got in a good dozen before sister #1 got a-kicking my shins. Switch partner chase #1 down bend her double over a bench apply sanction to buttocks; with a spare leg temporally hold off #2 for the necessary minute.

Not quite a Mexican stand off the girls were being spanked but in slo-mo bursts of Correction Maternal punctuated by time-out for amateur wrestling and chasing down flourescent corridors. I've said a standoff was a loss for the girl in that sese it was true but now we were in the end-game so to speak anything less than a total victory for me spelled me as a wimp. Wimps got trodden on in Papa's world.

I just carried on seeaching for an out. Rope I could have used, but that was locked away. Couple of garbage containers caught my eye. Loops of metal welded to the wall holding platic bags full of kibble the odd and ends of refuse for the gym. No conscious plan but the next turn of the merry-go-round when I had my hands full of swearing sweating girl -flesh (#2 the one I'd got the trousers off )didn't spank but upended and slid her head fist into the garbage conttainer. Could have been designed for the job: wrists were pinned by her own weight and the metal loop she couldn't get leverage to get out and her ass and legs stuck up in the air like an exotic wine-cork extractor. The English have a word gob-struck for when you're so taken aback you can't take anything in. Sister #1 was in that state. She didn't know what-the-hell had happened to her honorable sibling & for a critical minute just stood there. When I grabbed her she erupted like a banshee and gave me the only black eye I took that night but without her sister to run blockage for her it was 100 pounds of muscle against close to 150 pounds. No contest. Manhandled her in to the garbage container; made a pair of the 2 of them side by side yanked the trews off #1 to match.

Took a minute to get my breath and smoke half a cigarette (filthy habit) & then, well, I did the buisiness. Bared the ass off sister RHS (blue panties with little cartoon toons) and spanked until my hand hurt. Took a breather to massage feeling back into my hand and gave equal whackage to sister LHS (green spots on a white background, I suppose even twins like to make some guesture of individuality; funny what you remember. I still can bring back the smell of that room, Lily of the Valley scent from the girls and men's sweat.

Finished the fanny warming and notised Daddy had entered the room was smoking one of those black cigarettes the French intellectuals are into. Looking perfectly calm as tho buying his morning paper. Took my cue from him. We shook hands. He handed me the cost of the Films and I made my own way back to the shop.

Trouble. I expected it. There were enuf tough studs in the neighbourhood who were willing to rough up a guy for the price of a feel in a back alley and the girls had the bucks if it came to that. But no the Word had gone down. Nothing had happened. Anybody acting on a contrary notion would cop big trouble.

The girls stopped coming around, them and their gang. Missed their money; didn't miss the tension, the hassle. Maybe twice I saw them going into a car or thru a window in a top quality deparment shop. Chill looks ignoring me out of existence. I didn't push it and me, I got conscripted into being Official Spanker for the Mob; but that's another story for another time.

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