Jessica Lynn Part VI

This story is fiction and contains themes which some may consider to be of an adult or offensive nature. If you are not an adult under the laws of your state or country do not proceed further. This story is for entertainment purposes only and may not represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source. All characters are entirely fictional and any resemblance of any kind, to real people living or dead, is purely coincidental.

That night, after Sara left with Jessie, I sat in my office for a long time and thought about everything that had happened over the past few weeks. I was in love--there was no doubt in my mind. And I was in love with a little imp--a little imp who was letting me know she was attracted to me. Or was she? Afterall, she was twenty-one, and I was twenty-eight. Some of those students at the college had to look a whole better than I did. Who was I fooling, I thought. Just who was I fooling?

I paced around in my office for some time, trying to decide what to do. Then I picked up the phone and dialed Sara's house. It rang several times as I was staring out the window. Then the light came on in her office and she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Sara? It's Will."

"Oh. Hi Will. What's up?"

"Well, I uhhhh I uhhhhh, that is, I was wondering if you uhhh. . . . if we I mean . . . . no, I mean uhhh you . . . I think . . . would you uhhhh. . ."

"I'd love to go out to dinner . . . . or anyplace with you. When?"

"Uhhhhhhh . . . tomorrow night?"

"Great! What time?"

"Uhhhhhmmmm . . . . seven?"

"Terrific! Why don't you ask Mary Beth and Jennifer if they'd like to be paid to watch the other girls?"

"Uhhhhmmmm . . . right. . . . uhhhh . . . . yeah . . . . sure. I uhhhhhh . . ."

"Great. Tomorrow night then. Can't wait!"

What the hell just happened here? If I wasn't mistaken, I was just asked out on a date during a phone call I made to ask Sara out on a date. Okay, how much more like a sixteen-year-old could I act?

I didn't sleep much that night. I spent the next morning trying to figure out which restaurant to go to, and finally settled on a little Italian place about twenty miles from campus. The last thing I wanted at that point was to be spied on by some students. At about ten-thirty, I saw Sara and Jessie get in the car and leave, I suppose, for the store. I was in really bad shape by this time--I took note of every detail of Sara's appearance as I waved from the back yard. Red hair pulled back into a pony tail, a green t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans shorts that weren't too tight, too loose, or too short--quite demure actually--green ankle socks, and running shoes. She looked every inch the all-American, fresh-scrubbed, bubbly, and lovable . . . teen-ager. I must have groaned inwardly. What the hell was I doing? But, then again, she wasn't a teenager, she was twenty-one. Just looked younger.

I was working in the yard for some time that morning. Mary Beth and Jennifer were laying out a small flower garden, while Meghan and Danni seemed to be having a fine time playing tag and alternately helping the two older girls. I'd have to speak to the younger two about dedication to task. I was thinking about that when the Caddy pulled into Sara's drive. A driver got out and opened the back door of the car to allow an older woman to get out. She was obviously well off and quite dignified looking. Going to the front door, she knocked, got no answer and came around to the back with her driver. I had called several times, but they obviously had not heard me. Now, as they came to the back, I called again.

"Excuse me ma'am, but Sara's not home right now. I believe she went shopping with her daughter."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's no a problem. She really wasn't expecting me. I just thought I'd pop in for a bit."

"Well, she should be home later on this afternoon, we're going out to dinner this evening."

"Ohhhhhh, you must be William! I've heard a great deal about you. It's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sara's Aunt Jane."

I vaulted the fence and got right up next to her. I guess my face betrayed my displeasure even before my words did, because she quickly backed up and her driver moved to get in front of her.

"You've got an awful of a lot of nerve, lady! Just what is it you want?!"

"Excuse me young man, but I will not be spoken to in that tone. Just who do you think you are, anyway. I am shocked! Sara told me you were such a nice person!"

"Wellllll, she certainly didn't say the same about you. So why don't you and your private eye here just get on back into that rental, and get on out of here!"

"Private eye? Rental? Young Man! Just what are you talking about."

"Look, Aunt Jane! Sara's told me all about you and your little schemes to take Jessie away, so don't play dumb. Just move it on out of here, right now!"

Sara's Aunt looked quite bewildered by my rantings, but she did not back down. Instead she walked over to me, put her hand on my arm, and looked at me with the same beautiful, green eyes that Sara and Jessie had.

"William, perhaps you might explain exactly what it is that Sara has told you about me. Why don't we go sit on the patio for a while."

Her gentleness and demeanor convinced me that perhaps I should sit down and have a talk with this obviously well-off lady. Perhaps it was another Aunt Jane who was having financial problems that were causing her to making Sara's life miserable. We sat on the patio, and I sent Mary Beth to get some ice-tea for the three of us. Aunt Jane's driver sat a respectful distance from us, but never took his eyes off me for one second. I think if I had raised my voice again, that man would surely have handed me my head . . . in several small pieces.

I spoke with Aunt Jane for some time. I told her everything Sara had told me, and she just sat with a very hurt look on her face without speaking. I did not go into any details about Jessica at that time, however. Finally, when I finished, she took a sip of her ice tea, sighed, and looked at me again with those incredible eyes.

"William, I am very sorry you have this impression of me. Please look at me. Do I appear to be someone who is financial trouble?"

"No, ma'am you do not."

"William, I have to tell you that Sara has always had a bit of a problem with embroidering the truth. Now, if you will hear me out, I would like to straighten out a few points, if I might."

"Please. Go ahead."

"William, you seem like a very nice young man--a bit older than I expected, perhaps, but quite nice indeed. You have four lovely young daughters that seem well-behaved and quite lovely. But my niece has, quite frankly, snookered you. I am not sure why, but she has taken you on a bit of a ride. I do not know how I can prove all this to you, but please try to believe me."

For the next several minutes, Aunt Jane proceeded to punch some very large holes in Sara's story. To make long story short, while it was true that Jessie was Sara's sister and Sara's parents had been killed when she was sixteen and that her parents had left her and Jessie a sizable fortune, other things were not quite as Sara had explained them. When she was finished, Aunt Jane sat back and took another sip of her ice tea.

"Do you believe me William?"

"Yes, ma'am I do."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you believe me and not Sara. You certainly know her much better."

"Ma'am I just don't believe you would be lying to me."

"Thank you William."

"You're welcome."

"Do you love her?"

"Whaaaa? I uhhhh, well, uhhhh, yes I think I uhhh do."

"Good. I think you may be what she needs. Now, then, what do we do about our little Sara Elizabeth."

Ahhhh, good! I had her middle name. That would come in handy later on.

"Well, Aunt Jane . . . . may I call you that?"

"I'd be honored."

"Well, Aunt Jane, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to handle that little matter, but I can assure you that Sara Elizabeth will be calling you to apologize later on today."

"Then you would like me to leave, William?"

"For today. But I would certainly enjoy your company here tomorrow for a cook out, if you have the time."

"That would be lovely. Thank you. Oh, and William if you want my two-cents worth, what my nephew---Sara's father, may he rest in peace--should have done a long time ago was to soundly tan my niece's little backside everytime she told one of her fibs. But, he just . . . . ahhh, well that's water under the bridge."

Wait a minute here. Another fib?

"Excuse me, Aunt Jane. Are you saying that Sara's father never spanked her?"

"Heavens, no! He believed chapter and verse in that Child Psychology jibber-jabber that he spoon fed his students. I tried to tell him that a child needs to know limits and consequences, but he and his darling little wife just wouldn't hear of it. Children had to be free to express themselves, they claimed. Oh, he grounded her a few times, and that lasted maybe a half of a day, but discipline . . . never. Now, Sara has no idea how to raise a child and she's calling me and crying about Jessica Lynn's behavior. The chickens are roosting, I tell her. But, William, she's told me that you have helped her in that arena."

"Uhhhhh, yes, I suppose you can say that."

"Good! Good! Perhaps you can do something for the older sister, too."

I swear Aunt Jane winked at me. Then she got up and went to her car. Her driver came over to me. I admit I backed away a step. He held out his hand to me.

"Thank you for your kindness to Mom."

"Mom? I thought you were . . ."

"A private detective?"

"Well, noooo, not now. But I did assume you were . . . "

"Her driver?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that's what I thought."

He laughed and shook my hand. Then he put his arm around my shoulder and we walked toward the car.

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Now Will thinks I'm your driver."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Will, this is Michael, Sara's uncle. He was kind enough to drive me today. I normally drive myself. But today I had to go to the eye doctor and my vision is now not worth a bloody damn! Take care of our girl William. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good bye Aunt Jane. I'm looking forward to it."

"I'll bet you are, but don't be too harsh."

As my mouth dropped open and hit the ground, Aunt Jane and Michael pulled away, waving. Aunt Jane was laughing heartily at my expression.

Well, now I had an interesting situation, and I needed to decide how to proceed. Unfortunately, I didn't have too long to think about it. An hour later Sara and Jessie returned from shopping. But I was ready. I had already called Professor Seagreaves and had arranged for the girls to go there for the day for swimming. Jessie was going also, she just didn't know it yet. I called to Sara and Jessie and told them I had arranged for Jessie to go to the Seagreaves' house to go into the pool. Jessie whooped and ran into the house to get her bathing suit and Sara came over to me.

"Gee, Will, that's nice. Now we have some time to ourselves."

"Yes. . . .yes we do, Sara. Ahhhh, here's Bob now for the girls. C'mon Jessie! Shake a leg! The bus is leaving."

Jessie came bounding out of the house carrying towel and bathing suit, kissed Sara goodbye, hugged my waist, and vaulted into Bob's car. Bob said he would bring the girls back around eight. I said that would be fine. Mary Beth would be in charge until I got home. They all waved, and Bob pulled away.

I asked Sara if she was thirsty and she was, so we went into the house to get some ice tea. Now, I had decided that I wanted to take this all very slowly. I really wanted . . . no--needed . . . to know why Sara had been lying to me. We sat at the kitchen table for some time, drinking the ice tea and just talking. Sara showed me some of the things she had bought that morning--some new clothes for Jessie, some shorts and tops for herself, and a new bathing suit for herself--a very modest two-piece that I could not wait to see her in. Finally, I changed the subject to one near and dear to our hearts.

"So, how are things going with Aunt Jane, Sara."

"Oh, geez, don't get me started, Will. I feel like I'm being followed everywhere."

"Ohhhh?"

"Yeah, I swear I've seen this one guy following me all the time."

"Well, what's he look like? We'll have the police watch for him."

"Naaah, I think he's just watchin' me. No big problem."

"Okaaaay. If you think it's not a problem. Oh, by the way . . . "

"Yeah, he's not really botherin' me right now."

"Aunt Jane said to tell you hello."

"I figure if he . . . . what did you say?"

"I said, 'Aunt Jane said to tell you hello.' She stopped by here today to see you."

"Oh, no. Will what did she say to you?"

"Ohhhh, I dunno, Sara. Why don't you tell me what you think she said to me."

Sara got very pale and started to perspire. She wouldn't look me right in the eye. BINGO! She had been fibbing to me. Sara started to twist her t-shirt between her fingers. Yup! I'd seen this action before. Most of my young ladies did similar things when they got caught in some kind of trouble.

"Welllll, Sara. What do you think?"

Sara's voice was just a whisper. She stared at the floor between her knees.

"I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"Well, I suppose that depends on several things."

"Like what?"

"On like who's telling the truth and who's fibbing."

"Oh."

"Soooo? Having you been telling the truth or fibbing young lady?

I think the "young lady" did it. Sara started to breathe very deeply and squirm in the chair. She was looking more like a little girl all the time.

"I guess I've been telling a few fibs, Will."

"Such as?"

"Aunt Jane isn't trying to take Jessie away from me."

"I would think not. What is she, about 70?"

"Eighty-two."

"Sara, why would you tell such a story?"

"I dunno!"

"Sara Elizabeth!"

Her head popped up at that, and she was biting her lower lip. God, she was sooo cute! I did not want to lose her, but this fibbing could not go on.

"If there is one thing I know for sure, a person does not tell a fib without a reason. Now why did you do it!?"

"I wanted you to like me!"

"Sara! I already like you!"

"But if you felt sorry for me, I thought you might like me more."

"Sara, do you think that makes any sense at all?"

"I guess not."

"Any other fibs you want to confess?"

"I dunno."

"Sara, how old are you?"

"Twenty-one!"

"Saraaaa!"

"Nineteen . . . . . but I'll be twenty in two weeks!"

"And what about the college degrees?"

"That wasn't a fib. Really! I did graduate from high school and college when I was sixteen. I did go to graduate school."

"Saraaaaa!"

"Alrighhhhht! I graduated from high school when I was sixteen."

"And college?"

"I graduated last spring. I'm a graduate assistant at the college."

"How did you pull off everybody thinking you're an Associate Professor?!"

"NOBODY BUT YOU THINKS THAT!"

"But . . . ."

"You just assumed. You never asked. You just assumed.!"

Sara started to cry. Her shoulders were shaking and she was hugging her hands down between her knees.

"Okay, I'll give you that one. What about Jessie?"

"What about her?"

"Are you trying to adopt her?"

"I can't. . . . . not until I'm twenty-one."

"Are you her guardian?"

"Yes! Really, I am!"

"Saraaaaaa!"

"Will, I swear I am. Really. Please believe me."

"I'm trying to Sara. I'm really, really trying to."

"One more thing Sara."

"Yes?"

"When was the last time you got spanked?"

"When I was . . ."

"Saraaaa!"

"I've never been spanked in my life. My dad didn't believe in it."

"Why did you tell Jessie your dad spanked you until you were almost sixteen."

"I dunno."

"Tell me Sara."

Sara stared at me with those huge green eyes of hers. Tears were streaking down her face and she was sniffling almost constantly. I loved this girl. I wanted to hold her. But, oh dear Lord, she was only nineteen! She was breathing very deeply and her lower lip was quivering. Any moment, I thought, she would start sobbing. She took a deep breath and answered me.

"I wanted him to. But he wouldn't do it. My best friend Michelle used to tell me everytime her dad spanked her. . . . I was sooooo jealous. She used to tell me how getting spanked was a sign your parents loved you. I wanted my dad to really love me, but he was soooo distant. I'd do something wrong, and he would calmly explain why I shouldn't have done it, but then he wouldn't do anything. I even asked him to spank me once, but he told me that spanking wasn't good for children and that I needed to learn to discipline myself. But, I just wanted him for once to take my pants down and spank me! Why wouldn't he must spank me?! Didn't he love me?"

I stood up and went over to her. I put my arms around her and held her as she cried and cried. After about five minutes she started to calm down. I picked her up and walked out to the couch and sat down with her on my lap. She snuggled in and quietly sobbed. Gradually, she stopped crying and the sobbing slowed. Finally, she spoke into my chest.

"What are you going to do?"

"What do mean?"

"Well, I guess you don't want to take me out anymore."

"No, that's not true. But I don't want you fibbing to me anymore."

"I won't. I promise."

"Okay, but I mean it Sara--no more fibs!"

"I knowwwww! I really do!"

"There's two more things."

"What?"

"You are going to call your aunt and apologize. Oh, and she's coming here for dinner tomorrow. I'm cooking on the grill."

"Ohhhhhh, Willllll, pleeeeeease! Don't make me do that. I can't face her."

"You have no choice young lady. You will call her. You will apologize. You will be here tomorrow for dinner."

"Yes, sir. What's the other thing."

"I'm going to spank you Sara."

She lifted her head from my chest and looked at me for a very long moment. Her breathing got very deep again and she bit her lip again. But she nodded.

"I kind of thought you would."

"You did, huh."

"Uh, huh."

"And how do you feel about that?"

The little imp smiled at me and then looked down at the floor.

"I deserve it. And at least now I'll know how to do it when Jessie needs it."

"No, ma'am."

"Huh?"

"I said, 'No, ma'm.' You will not spank Jessie if and when she needs it. Not until I am satisfied that you have your act straightened out. If Jessie needs spanking, I will do it. When I am satisfied you have straightened out, then we'll discuss this again. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. . . . uhhhh . . . . "

"Yes?"

"How are you going to spank me?"

"The same way I spank the girls."

"With my pants down?"

"Yes."

"Over your knee?"

"Yes."

"uhhhh, what about, uhhhh, you know, uhhh, my uhhhhh . . ."

"Yes, Sara. I'm going to pull your panties down, too."

"Okay. When are you going to do it?"

"I think now is as good a time as any, don't you?"

"I . . . . I . . . . I g-g-g-guess soooo."

"Then go wait for me by the spanking chair."

Slowly, Sara got up off my lap, walked into my office, and closed the door. I watched her bottom as she went. I couldn't help but think how much she deserved this and how much I was going to enjoy it. I heard her move the spanking chair into position. I waited a minute, then got up and went to my office. I opened the door and went in, closing the door behind me. Sara was standing to the right of the chair. Her hands were behind her, palms out on her bottom. She had her shorts unsnapped and unzipped. I walked over and sat down. I looked up into her eyes. They were full of tears and some strands of red hair that had escaped from her pony tail were stuck to her cheeks.

"Alright Sara Elizabeth, do you understand what is going to happen to you?"

"Uh, huh."

"What?"

"You're gonna pull my pants down and spank me."

"Your pants and what else?"

Her voice was a soft, breathy whisper.

"My panties."

"Shall we get this over with."

"I guess sooo."

She looked like she was going to cry. I pulled the fly of her shorts apart. Creme-colored satin panties peaked out of the opening made by the zipper. Slowly, I pulled her shorts down. Sara wiggled a bit so they would slide over her hips and bottom. They slid down to the floor. Now, she stood in just her panties and t-shirt, facing a spanking for the first time in her life. Her panties fit snuggly over belly and bottom and down into the V of her crotch. I tried not to look as I hooked my fingers into the waist band of her panties and slid them down over her bottom. Hands held in front of her face and chewing on one knuckle, She looked every inch the scared little girl. And as I finished sliding her panties down to the middle of her thighs, that image was even more complete.

"Bend over Sara."

She squeaked a little sob, and bent forward at the waist. I guided her across my lap, and as with the girls, I adjusted her so that her bottom was right above my right thigh. I realized that she was actually quite short--her toes barely touched the floor. She whimpering and squirming even before the spanking started.

"I'm really, really, sorreeeee. I won't ever fib to you again. How many spanks are you going to give meeeeeeeeowwwwwwwwch! owwwwwwch! owwwwwwww!"

Obviously, I waisted no time in beginning Sara's spanking. In between spanks, I informed her she was going to receive one hundred spanks just like the girls. I guess never having been spanked before in her life meant her bottom was incredibly tender. Oh, how she wiggled and squirmed. Her bottom was small and rounded and very firm--very spankable. I spanked her exactly as would have one of the girls--first one cheek then the other, first down low near where her bottom creased into her thigh, then up to the fullnes of each bottom cheek. And I spanked her soundly. By the 30th spank, Sara's toes were sharply pointed and each spank made her kick one leg or the other. Gradually, her bottom went from white to pink to red as my hand worked up one bottom cheek and down the other. Squirming and wiggling and rocking forward with each stinging spank, it seemed as if Sara's whole world had become centered on one very sore, very red, very burning pair of bottom cheeks. By the 70th spank, Sara was sobbing hard, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, and shaking her head back and forth. As I continued smacking her bottom, I noticed how her squirms were almost in rhythm with the spanks. The last ten spanks I gave her were accompanied by one long "I'msorryI'msorryowwwwwwwwwwI'msorreeeeeee." Finally, I ended the spanking with an extra hard smack right in the middle of her bottom. Sara yelped and then just sagged over my lap as I place my hand on her back. I stood her up, and her hands went to her bottom to rub. I pulled her panties up, quickly. . . no sense in giving her more to be embarrassed about. Then I picked her up and carried her to the couch where I sat down and cuddled her while she cried.

That was the first, but not last spanking I ever gave Sara. There were some that led to other things. But that is for another time.