#4171 COSTUMES AND PUMPKINS by Joe Doe A 29-YEAR-OLD TAX ATTORNEY MODELS HER HALLOWEEN COSTUME -- A SCHOOL UNIFORM -- FOR HER NEIGHBOR, A RETIRED HIGH SCHOOL TEACHER. Ding Dong! John Watson crawled out of his recliner and slowly ambled toward the front door. DING DONG! DING DONG! "I'm coming...," he grumbled. Whippersnappers today were in such an all-fired hurry! "This had better not be some damn salesman," he muttered under his breath as he opened the front door. The old retiree was surprised to find a teenager dressed in a school uniform standing on his doorstep. The girl was wearing a white shirt, tie, blue blazer, and very short blue skirt with white socks. She appeared to be about 18, but it was hard to tell, since she was looking at her shoes as if she couldn't bear to make eye contact. "I'm not interested in buying candy, and I don't have any newspapers or soda bottles to give you," the old man said, gruffly. "It's me, Mr. Watson -- Linda from the City Council," the young woman said, still staring at her shoes. "Don't you remember that I asked you if I could stop by later and get your opinion on my Halloween costume?" Watson literally did a double take. Certainly the gangly teenager in front of him couldn’t be Linda Johnson. Councilwoman Johnson was a 29-year-old tax attorney, not a teenage schoolgirl. The teenager and the lawyer did share the same trim, athletic figure, but the minuscule skirt revealed quite a bit more of Linda's legs than he had ever seen before. Not that he was complaining. Although he was retired, he still appreciated the female form. "That's a wonderful costume, Linda," he said, appreciatively. "Why don’t you come in so I can have a...uh...closer look?" "Yes...sir," she said, her voice betraying her nervous embarrassment. As she entered the house, John scratched his head in amazement. The retired high school teacher had known Linda for years; in fact, they had served on the city council together for two terms. So why was she blushing, fidgeting, and biting her lip? Why was she acting like a naughty girl sent to the principal’s office? He closed the door and slowly ran his eyes up and down Linda's attractive form. The hair color was the same, although he had never seen her wear a ponytail before. The voice did seem faintly familiar, although the nervous teenager's tiny voice and docile tones were a far cry from the cocky attitude Linda normally projected. It didn’t seem right. Linda Johnson was opinionated to the point of arrogance. But the young girl standing in front of him couldn't even bear to make eye contact! He gently put his hand under the schoolgirl's chin and raised her head until their eyes met. She was not wearing any makeup, and the costume made her look years younger. But there was no doubt about it. The teenager nervously shuffling her feet was definitely his 29-year-old neighbor. The transformation, not only in looks but in manner, was absolute and complete. The insolent and overbearing attorney was now an awkward, flustered schoolgirl! What on earth...? She anticipated his questions by handing him a note: DEAR MR WATSON, LINDA ADMITTED TO ME THAT SHE WAS THE ONE WHO SMASHED THE PUMPKIN IN FRONT OF YOUR HOUSE. I KNOW THAT YOU ARE A FIRM BELIEVER IN OLD-FASHIONED DISCIPLINE, AND YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION TO TEACH THIS NAUGHTY LITTLE MINX A LESSON SHE WILL NEVER FORGET! LINDA'S MOM The preposterous signature, "Linda’s Mom" made him smile. Was this some sort of joke? He examined the note thoughtfully. At the last city council meeting, Linda had been shocked when a group of parents sang the praises of "britches-down spankings" for their college-age daughters. And she had been aghast when John confessed that he had paddled his own two daughters straight through graduate school. She had been uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of evening and, John noted to his satisfaction, unusually polite. He was pleased but surprised when she deferred to his "experience" and even called him "Sir" twice. He had been dumbfounded when she pulled him aside afterwards to ask if she could drop by his house to get his opinion on her Halloween costume for this year's party. He wasn't in the habit of doing favors for snotty young know-it-alls, but the thought of seeing Linda dressed up as nurse or a policewoman was not without appeal, so he agreed. He had spent several hours that night fantasizing about what costume she might select. Her final choice, though, had exceeded all of his expectations. He pocketed the note and, in his most authoritative voice, informed the embarrassed "teenager" that he needed to check for "dress code violations." He grinned broadly as the nervous, blushing schoolgirl obediently skipped back and forth in her short skirt. Her face turned the most delightful shade of pink as he ordered her to turn slowly...slowly...slowly under his amused gaze. He could tell that she hated flouncing around in her short skirt, but he offered his mortified neighbor no quarter. The spectacle of the red-faced young woman nervously tugging down her skirt as she desperately tried to hide her white panties was simply too entertaining to rush. He considered bending her over the kitchen table, but decided that the childishly humiliating "over-the-knee" position would be more appropriate. It would be awkward and embarrassing for her, to be sure, with her lovely hips grinding against his crotch with every spank. But she was there to be punished. The fact that the punishment would be unspeakably shameful and ignominious would only strengthen the effectiveness of the lesson she needed to learn. Linda blanched as he patted his knee three times and beckoned her forward with a crooked finger. He relished the sensation of her weight pressing directly against his bulging crotch. And he smiled knowingly as she looked nervously back over her shoulder at him, her face a mask of anxiety and anticipation. He knew that she could feel how much he was enjoying her predicament and did nothing to hide his pleasure. Why should he? Why shouldn't a fine, upstanding citizen derive satisfaction from doing his duty? Using both hands, he carefully folded her skirt up to reveal her snug white underpants. Over the years, he had never missed an opportunity to sneak a glimpse of Linda's bright, lacy lingerie whenever she bent over or reached up to get something off a shelf. The plain white cotton underpants were a marked contrast to the expensive silk panties she usually wore. John was secretly pleased to see the successful career woman stripped of her sophisticated frillies. The plain cotton panties underscored the new reality that she was no longer a successful and financially independent career woman, but a spoiled teenager in need of firm discipline. She flinched as he playfully patted her panty-covered bottom. It was not a love pat. It was a pat of ownership. Yes, he thought, the childish underpants suited her new role perfectly. As he examined her panties more closely, he noted a wet spot in the gusset. He mustered all his acting ability to disguise his delight, as he began to press his finger down on the wet spot. "Disgusting!" he said, his voice oozing contempt. She squirmed helplessly as his probing finger wormed its way between her thighs. "Shameful," he muttered. "It's obvious that a good fanny-tanning is just what you need." She let out a soft whine. "I want you to reach over and get me the hairbrush that's in the end-table drawer, you little brat. This spanking is long overdue, and it's high time we got started." He smiled as he watched her bottom clench defensively. And then he sighed, as she shifted her weight to reach for the hairbrush. She rummaged in the drawer for for a moment before withdrawing the the ominous brush. She gave it an anguished look. She had never realized a simple hairbrush could be so heavy...or so scary. Of course, it was no longer just a hairbrush; it was a tool for bringing her to heel. The proud attorney was about to learn respect for her elders in the most shameful and humbling manner imaginable. She examined the smooth "business end" of the brush carefully. It had been manufactured by THE HAPPY HAIR BRUSH COMPANY, and a tiny, happy smiley face engraved in the wood stared mockingly up at her. "I'm going to enjoy getting to know that cute little fanny of yours," the smiling brush seemed to say. "I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson you won’t soon forget. I'll make you dance, and squirm, and kick, and cry, and plead.... Yes, I'll have a good time toasting your buns." John cleared his throat in mock impatience, and Linda obediently handed him the instrument of her shameful correction. He smiled; the sassy barrister was now obedient and compliant, and she hadn't yet received a single spank. He relished the sensation of Linda squirming over his lap as he playfully ran his finger across the waistband of her underpants. "Please, sir...not on the bare!" she squeaked. "I know I've been...." She paused as she searched for the right word. "I know I've been naughty! I'm sorry I was naughty! But...I have...um...never been s-spanked before!" she confessed. She looked back over her shoulder with the most plaintive expression imaginable. "I-I know I deserve to be...p-punished, sir," she said, softly, her voice cracking with desperation. "But, please! Please let me keep a little bit of dignity." Her voice was so whiny and pathetic, and in such a marked contrast to her normal tone, that it was hard not feel a twinge of sympathy. (At the meeting she had seemed appalled at the notion of young women in their twenties being spanked bare-bottom. She had argued that it was an unspeakable humiliation, indecent and disgraceful. But other members had replied that it was the disgrace and shame that made it so effective.) "If you’ve never been spanked before, then this is long overdue, young lady," John said, in a patronizing tone. "As for whether or not your panties come down, that is MY decision, not yours. But I MIGHT be willing to spare you...." Linda looked up. Her expression had brightened, her eyes filled with hope. "Please, sir," she begged. "Please let me keep my panties. I'll be a good girl! I'll do anything!" "Perhaps an examination of the offenses will help us determine whether your panties stay up...." He paused for dramatic effect. "Or come down. Your mother obviously believes a spanking is in order, and I have to say that I agree with her. The way you argued with and interrupted THE ADULTS at the meeting as we discussed the benefits of corporal punishment, even though you obviously had no experience in the matter, was impertinent and disgraceful." "I didn't mean to be...insolent, sir," she said, apologetically. "I just think an...adult girl is too old to be spanked on the bare." "Even now you persist in arguing, although we've established your utter ignorance," John countered. "Every time you open that sassy little mouth of yours, Missy, you dig yourself deeper. Your continued impertinence suggests to me that you are a brat who needs to be taken down a peg or two." She stiffened as he teasingly pulled on the waistband of her panties and SNAPPED! it back against her skin. "No...that's not what I meant, s-sir. I'm sorry I was...sassy! Please, just let me keep my underpants on. Please!" "As I said, your offense will determine your punishment," he replied, judiciously. "For example, I happen to know that, on the day my pumpkin was smashed, you were on business in London. Can you explain to me how you smashed my pumpkin from half way around the world?" Like most liars, Linda initially said nothing, but squirmed nervously over his knee. In her eagerness to confess to some "crime," she had never considered when the said crime had taken place. He considered the situation; she hadn't smashed the pumpkin, and, as a member of the city council, it was hardly inappropriate for her to express her opinion. All Linda had done was write an obviously bogus note and put on a Halloween costume. Did she really deserve to be placed in such a shameful and compromising position? Did this accomplished and respected attorney really deserve to spanked like a bratty and disobedient child? John smiled as he once again teasingly ran his finger over the wet spot in her underpants. She flinched at his touch and let out a tiny, plaintive moan. There was no doubt about it. The fraudulent note had been accurate in one respect. This randy little minx needed to be taught a lesson. "The more serious offense is your rather pitiful and transparent attempts at lying," he lectured her. "Perhaps such antics are tolerated in the courtroom. But I know how to handle clever young ladies who try to bend the truth into a pretzel. Your brazen deceit and disrespectful attitude will earn you a solid dose of hairbrush justice, with real kicking and real tears." He chuckled. "I can certainly see why you would want to keep your panties on, given the disgraceful dance you are about to perform. Of course, we still need to determine whether your panties stay UP...or come DOWN." He tauntingly ran his finger under the waistband. "I certainly agree an underpants-down spanking is a shameful and ignominious punishment, particularly for a sophisticated professional woman. The humiliation of standing in the corner with your panties around your knees while I drink my beer and watch the game will be almost unbearable...particularly if one of the neighbors should decide to drop by.” He chuckled softly to himself as the proud barrister twisted and squirmed over his knee helplessly. It was clear to him that the brilliant but impulsive attorney hadn't fully thought out the ramifications of her decision...such as a visit from the neighbors. Linda's early arguments had been impassioned, but abstract. But now she was beginning to understand just helpless she really was. "I've called your mother, and, since it's getting so late, she agreed that you can stay over tonight," he explained in a patronizing voice. "When your corner time is over, I'll give you your bath and put you to bed. I think you'll find my bed is very comfortable and plenty big enough for two. I think there are some old pajamas in the basement that you should be able to squeeze into. They're pink and white and have little dancing bears all over them. I'm sure you'll look simply adorable." "Bed?" Linda said, her voice rising with astonishment. "Dancing bears? A BATH?" "Of course," he said, as he once again ran his finger over the wet spot in her panties. "A dirty little bird like you needs a good scrubbing. Don't worry, I'll be gentle.... But thorough," he added, as he once again wormed his finger between her thighs. He watched with amusement as she modestly squeezed her thighs tightly together. Clearly the thought of his giving her a bath horrified her. But he knew her dignity would vanish once the hairbrush began warming her fanny, and she'd soon be kicking and crying like any other well-spanked little girl. In a few minutes, her modesty would be a thing of the past. Her shapely fanny would twist and squirm, and her helplessly kicking legs would reveal all. The carefully concealed secrets of her delicate feminine anatomy would soon be displayed for his eager inspection. "Now, I just might be willing to spare you the indignity of having your panties shucked down, AND corner time, AND bath time. I might even let you sleep on the couch...." He once again paused to heighten the drama. "On one small condition." She looked back hopefully. She was saved! The assertive and confident barrister had half-hoped that her punishment would turn into a negotiation. She was an expert at twisting men around her finger, and she knew that, whatever his terms were, she could quickly turn them to her advantage. She felt triumphant, but also, perhaps, a trifle disappointed. "Anything!" she said, anxiously. "I want you to tell me who REALLY smashed the pumpkin, name and phone number, so I can call the parents right now!" Her jaw dropped. He smiled benignly. "If you cooperate, I'll let you keep your panties up. But, if you defy me, I'll give you a fanny-tanning you'll never forget." Linda stared dumbly back at him. Even if she wanted to frame some unlucky innocent, she didn't know the name of anyone to accuse, much less a phone number. And, even if she did come up with something, how could she ever explain it? Moreover, when she was caught in her lie, that would only make her punishment worse. She stared at him, her mouth agape. The eloquent attorney had finally been rendered speechless. He shook his head in mock sadness. "You'll have plenty of time to think about your answer, young lady. After I warm your fanny, I'll give you a 'time out,' in the corner, with your underpants around your knees." She flinched as he ran his hand over her soft curves. "After your corner time, I'll finish the rest of your spanking by hand." He waited almost a full minute to allow the realization of what was about to happen to sink in. He smiled as he watched her butt cheeks squirm and flex as she imagined the hairbrush SMACKING her tender fanny. As with most naughty little girls, Linda's shenanigans had earned her more than she had bargained for. He smiled as he inserted his pudgy fingers into the waistband of her underpants and began to tug them down. Her lovely curved pumpkins were milky white now, but, in a few minutes, they would be a hot, devilish red.... Edited by C. Lakewood