"OK Bob. If you don't want your new girlfriend to taste buckshot howsabout you zip up Put her over your knee and give her lets say 3 dozen first class whacks with the palm of your hand."

MaryJane is the name. It's a name given to nice girls I look the part but I've not had an easy life and appearances can be deceptive. Still people underestimate me they don't do it twice.

Dad always kept us on a short lead. Shit never mind the fancy talk he wallopped us good and often especially after Mother died. Seemed we couldn't turn around without ending up skirts flung up bloomers snatched down over the sawing horse in the barn. In those days Carol and me were not exactly friends then friendly enemies despite the 5 years between us. There is nothing like having to parade pink fannies before the fireplace while missing dinner to form a bond between sisters.

As the years went on the bond frayed and turned to cold dislike. The spankings went on but I seemed to be catching more than my share. Who stole my toys and broke them? Who got swatted for it and caught it double for trying to explain? Prize for guessing. Carol learned and learned fast how to wheedle and sweet-talk herself outa 3 tannings out of 5. Me I guess I had too much stubborn Non-conformist blood in my veins I just took my Lumps even when they weren't my Lumps so to speak.

Things hotted up when as Carol put it her "equipment" arrived. Staying out late talk of her being seen on the waste ground with the Macy boys. For a while there it wasn't me that was catching a larraping. Couple of times she cried herself to sleep on my shoulder. Couldn't last o'course she caught the eye of a State politician who liked jail-bait and moved in with him in the State Capital. Envy her Hell yes I envied her. I was railroaded towards being an old maid at the age of 12 I figgered. Coupla years of keeping house and mucking out the stable. Then along came Bob. Bob was kinda dumb and weak but decent (I thought ) and he seemed to have the hots for me. It never went further than a little titty-feeling in the back paddock but I had hopes. Yes I know Sad. Then a visitation from above. Carol came home; home for a visit. A Preen rather she'd got a junior position in an Advertising Firm and reading between the lines was sleeping her way to the top Took the chance of a Labour Day Weekend to rub the rubes back home in how much of Losers they were. She lost me bringing up my pre-teen nick-name of 'Runt'. Catching her eyeing Bob's butt as he slung her cases out of the truck was the cherry on the cake. God hates a coward so I upfronted her out back where she was having a cigarette, strictly against house rules but Father seemed to be in celebrity worship mode. Felt like talking back to a Teacher. Carol screamed cultured adulthood and the good life with her tailored clothes and expensive scent. God she must have abused her credit card rotten just for this visit. Talk abou being the tramp's daughter! Enough of this I've nursed this bitch through an attack of the squitters.

"Bob is mine. You can screw for the State Team but keep your manicured Fingers off."

"Honey when I can get Prime Steak I don't need to slum for Chuck-End."

"I know you. You live for your Pussy."

"Spank Me If I do."

"Don't Think I won't. McMillans don't Bluff."

Cool gave me a cool weighing up glance. It was the nearest to taking me seriously she'd got to.But it was bravado it sounded brassy even to me. She'd always dunked my head in a puddle in our childhood quarrels and easy living hadn't yet make her soft. It was work hardened against Gym muscle but she could still give me 100 pounds and excluding the equipment (Tits and Ass) none of it flab.

"Runt! You and the State Troopers, maybe."

I knew which way it was going. More fool me. I'd given Carol a challenge. She could resist anything-hard work for example- but a challenge and the chance of a little nookie. Sneaked out of bed stayed up 2 hours in the kitchen. Part of the time I was preparing the Sunday Lunch. The rest that'd be telling don't be impatient.

Made myself a coffee from my father's private stock and smoked one of Carol's cigarettes the coffe tasted fine the other people like this shit?. Boredom upon boredom but us McMillans are a stubborn breed. Started out of a doze to hear muffled giggling 2 people meeting at the back door. Heard them creep to the barn whispering love-talk. Gave them maybe quarter of an hour to get serious. & padded after into the moonlight an avenging angelin crepe slippers.

Barn door creaked revealing storm-lantern lit scene that Playboy would find too risque Rustler maybe. Carol was giving head like a starving calf filling its belly. Bob's cock was bigger than I'd imagined it. Felt acid lemon-sorbet flutter of lust in my pussy. Adrenalized awareness of my own sweat of every stalk of straw. Me (Flat and Angry) "This is keeping you hands to yourself?"

Carol (Like a cheeky child that knows her father is Town Mayor & she's spank proof) "I lied."

Me (so like my father's spanking voice it makes my own backside tingle)"I didn't."

She struck up an amused adult dealing with uppity girl smile and stuck Bob's cock back between her teeth. Bob gave me a goofy smile. Smile fell off both of their faces as I stepped out of the shadows and revealed that I was holding my Dad's Shotgun. Strained silence as I put the cross-bar across the Barn Door. It would take a strong man to break in with an axe.

Me (Brisk Cheerful CommonsenceTone of Voice): "OK Bob. If you don't want your new girlfriend to taste buckshot howsabout you zip up Put her over your knee and give her lets say 3 dozen first class whacks with the palm of your hand. I saw the way you licked your younger brother last summer down by the water hole that'll do just fine. It much the same with Female Fanny you just hit twice as hard. More fatty padding you know."

Carol to Bob: "Do it. McMillans don't Bluff".

Lots of undignified repositioning. Couple of Squeals Trim buttocks face the ceiling. Gucci shoes dangle. Coiffured Face inches from the straw. Bob paws at Carols Ass.

Bob "I just can't do it!!"

ME (sarcastic. God he was weak.) "Oh ain't it sweet he REALLY cares. At this range I'm gonna put a hole through her you could put your fist into! You gonna risk that against a sore ass?"

Bob was weak - I just said it. He made a pawing slap at Carol's ass.

ME: "That's the idea but put some muscle behind it. It ain't made of glass or Toilet Paper."

Bob made a better shot a half decent wallop that actualy had some sting.

ME: That's right a hundred or so of those & we're in Business."

Bob repeats the wallop.

Me: "Spank!"

Buttocks quiver.

Me: "Spank!"

Spank! Spank! Spank!

Carol tries to do the Stoic "I'm too old for this".

But I've got the whole night. After about 50 blows she catches her breath.

Me: "Now we're getting somewhere. But Keep hitting Her in the Right Place and put some muscle into it."

Bob looks bewildered. "If this is a nightmare Let me wake up."

Me: "Back to Business."

Spank! Spank! Spank!

Bob followed Orders. God he was Putty. I had actually Fancied this Man.

On the Five minute mark I ordered him to swap Buttocks. Carol was breathing Heavily. Gasps bordereing on sobs Bob hesatated but a gesture with my Shogun got him back into it.

Spank! Spank! Spank!

Time passes rapidly when you're enjoying yourself & this was the Most Fun I'd had with my hand out of my Knickers. Carol wasn't a weakling but she was Flesh and Blood. She began to sob, at first quietly And then like the Spoiled Brat she was.

Spank! Spank! Spank!

The Door began to rattle. We'd woken my Father up.

Me: "Ok, That's The evening's Entertainment over with."

I laughed gave Bob a good one in the groin with the stock of the shot-gun as a goodbye gift. "NOW we're even" I said. Tossed the gun to the floor tweaked Carol's nose, who was curled on the floor sobbing quietly out of a botched facehiccuping and blubbering crying and gasping. I Unbarred the Door. "Right, do your worst. I've made my point!"

Later: Lying face down in the straw locked in the Attic bare ass still stinging and red-striped from Dad's expertise with the belt and pink blotched from the more clumsy walloping of Bob. I smile through the snot-clogged nose, a warm glow of satisfaction in my stomach setting fair to beat the throbbing incineration in my naked rear. Giggle and hug myself cry "Ow" as my bum bites me. Smile and play in my head some Tammy Wynette Ballad, or is it Johnny Cash, a piece about Betrayal and Revenge anyway. Love hurts so why shouldn't Revenge.

Tomorrow Hell as Scarlett said. Tommorrow is another Day.