GIRL TALK

The steam from the two mugs of cocoa formed a veil before Libby's eyes
as she re-entered the living room. Rachel took one mug from her,
channel-hopped briefly, then flicked the TV off. 

The two flatmates were settled down for the night. Both had changed
into their nighties, with just pants on underneath. Libby sat down on
the armchair next to the sofa where her friend reclined. They had been
living together now for two months. Libby was 17,  a trainee manager
at a local department store. Rachel was three years older and worked
as a nanny to twin boys at a house a few roads away. Both were
unattached. Libby was being unsuccessfully pursued by several men at
her workplace, while Rachel had made no secret of her sexuality when
the younger girl had moved in. "I'm a lesbian, and if you can't live
with that, I'll understand." But Libby liked her openness, the flat
was comfortable and relatively cheap, and the girls had hit it off
immediately.

Libby reached up to her head and took out some hairpins, letting her
long, fair hair fall to her shoulders. She reached for the hairbrush
she had placed on the coffee table prior to her nightly ritual of
brushing it out, then forming it into a long plait ready for sleep.
This routine fascinated her flatmate, whose short auburn hair had no
need for such vanities. She patted the sofa with her hand. "Here, let
me do that for you."

Libby obediently came over and perched on the edge of the sofa while
the other girl sat behind her. She handed Rachel the hairbrush. "God,
I'm knackered. I've been on my feet all day and every customer has
been either stupid or rude. How about you?" 

"About the same," answered Rachel, "They've been little sods all day.
Thank God I don't live in any more. You never get any peace."

Libby felt herself unwind as she enjoyed the sisterly ministrations,
the gentle hands entwining her hair and the warm breath on the back of
her neck. Finally Rachel was finished and she smacked the back of the
heavy wooden hairbrush experimentally against the palm of her hand.
She giggled. "Could have done with this earlier. As it was they had to
make do with my hand, and they've got bums of iron, those two. I'm
damn sure it hurt me more than it did them!" She put her arms around
Libby's waist and reclined again on the sofa, drawing Libby on with
her, so that the younger girl's head was resting on her bosom, her
feet up.

"I didn't know you spanked them when they were naughty. I thought
modern nannies aren't supposed to do that sort of thing?"

"There is no misbehaviour that cannot be solved without resorting to
corporal punishment," said Rachel, putting on an "official" voice.

"Frankly it's crap. Kids need to be kept in line. All the people I've
worked for have insisted on me smacking bottoms."

As the older girl continued to talk about her disciplinary methods
Libby suddenly realised she was getting wet between her legs. She
cuddled up closer and brought her feet down to nuzzle against her
friend's. "So, are you a strict nanny, then?" she asked
half-mockingly.

"Yes, young lady, I am." Rachel playfully slapped a handy bare thigh.
"So you'd better watch your behaviour, hadn't you?"

"Mmm." Libby's left hand went furtively to the gusset of her pants. It
was wet through.

Rachel, meanwhile, had seen too much sexual arousal in other girls to
be ignorant of what was happening. But she also knew when to be
patient. She bent down and put a little kiss on her flatmate's right
cheek. Then there was silence for a while.

"Rach?"

"Yes?"

"You know when you...when you smack the lads?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Is it on...I mean, do you take down their trousers for it?"

"And their pants."

"You mean, on the..."

"...on the bare bottom, yes, of course." At the words "bare bottom",
Rachel's hands moved upwards, tenderly cupping the other girl's
breasts through her nightgown. "I always smack bare bottom, to make
sure it hurts."

"But aren't they embarrassed by you seeing their bums and their, um,
privates?"

"Nothing I don't see at bathtime. And anyway, a little occasional
embarrassment isn't a bad thing for two growing boys, you know."

Libby felt giddy. She turned on her side, snuggled her face into
Rachel's soft breasts and sighed. "You sound like my mum."
Rachel held her close, and put her mouth almost against Libby's ear.

"Did you used to get smacked when you were a naughty girl? Is that
what mummy used to do?"

The younger girl's mouth was bone dry and she could only nod. By the
burning sensation in her ears she knew she was blushing. Rachel turned
her slightly so the girls were looking each other straight in the eye.

"So what did mummy give you when you were a bad, bad girl?"

Libby stammered: "I...when I was really little she...she used her
hand?"

"And did she have a hard hand?"

Once again a blush graced her face and a nod had to suffice as an
answer. In some ways she wanted Rachel to continue the
cross-questioning, in others she fervently wished the subject closed.

But Rachel was persistent.

"And what about when you were older?"

For answer, Libby pointed at the hairbrush on the coffee table.

"Mum...gave it me when I was 15. She said I could put it to its other
use now I was too big to spank."

Rachel planted another kiss on her friend - this time full on the
lips, though both mouths remained closed. "Oh darling - you're never
too big to get a spanking." 

"Aren't I?" There was a childlike wonder in the younger girl's voice.
Rachel shook her head. "I used to think I got bad spankings with my
mum's slipper, but that hairbrush must have hurt an awful lot more."
She drew her friend up the sofa a little so their faces were now
opposite each other. "Come here and tell me all about what mummy used
to do when you were a disobedient girl. Now, did you used to get put
over her knee for smacking?" By now Libby had completely lost her
tongue but she managed to move her head a little, acquiescently. "Oh,
poor, naughty baby." Libby gasped a little as Rachel's hand went to
her crotch and began to gently massage her most intimate area. "And I
bet it was skirt up, pants down once you were bent over, wasn't it?"
She squeezed a nipple by way of punctuation. Another nod. "So that
means you got it...where?" Silence. "Come on, I want you to say it!
Where did you get spanked?" 

"On my...bare...bottom."

Another kiss descended on her lips, and then another, and this time
Libby's mouth opened obediently, admitting another girl into that
secret place for the first time. Rachel tasted strongly of the cocoa
and for a moment Libby's world was all saliva and sweetness.
Rachel's hand was inside her pants now, and quickly found her
clitoris. "Oh...God..."

"Still a naughty girl, aren't we?"

"I...oh...yes, yes, I'm a naughty girl."

"Want me to be your mummy?"

"Oh...yes...please..."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, mummy."

"Brought up Catholic, weren't you?"

"Yes, mummy."

"Right then, confession time. Kneel on the floor, with your head in my
lap, and let's hear all about the naughty things you've done this
week."

Libby obediently got up and assumed the position. An unmistakable
female smell rose from her flatmate's lap and she put her nose down,
glorying in the scent. At a word from her erstwhile parent, she
recounted all the week's sins. Not doing the washing up, being back
late from lunch, having a crafty cigarette (she was supposed to have
given up) in the stock room.

"Get up."
The penitent rose to her feet unsteadily, her head spinning with
confusion and desire in equal quantities.

"WHAT a naughty girl! Aren't you? Aren't you?" A sharp slap on the
back of Libby's left leg accompanied the repetition of the question.

"Yes, mummy."

"And what happens to naughty girls?"

"Smack-bottom."

"I should think so, indeed. Come on!" Rachel took hold of Libby's left
hand and pulled her over her lap. She expertly flipped back the hem of
her nightie, exposing a slim, boyish backside encased in a pair of sky
blue pants. Libby felt herself being lifted up slightly, then suddenly
her pants were at her knees.

"Now then, Elizabeth (Libby winced at being called by her baptismal
name, only ever uttered when she was in deep trouble). From now on you
will present yourself each week for confession, and I will spank your
sins away afterwards. Is that clear?"

A muffled "yes, mum" rose from the region of the carpet.

"I expect you to take your punishment like a big girl, and there will
be no crying till afterwards, when hopefully you will have something
to cry about."

Rachel raised her open palm and brought it smartly down on the far
buttock. A leg kicked slightly at the impact, but there was no sound.
She began to spank in earnest, alternating cheeks, occasionally
sharing a spank across the beguiling crease on which she feasted her
eyes.

Libby burned with shame and desire across both her fore and nether
cheeks. The heat in her bottom was almost unbearable but deliciously
sexy. The hand which punished her was hard, unforgiving, but
cleansing.

Then there was a pause, and the next smack nearly took her through the
ceiling. The hot, small hand had been replaced by a cold, hard
hairbrush. "Owww, owww, aaaaaaaaaah!!"

"Can't take the big girls' medicine?" Rachel demanded sternly. "Let's
see if we can give you a little help."

Libby felt her pants being yanked down past her knees and off
altogether. The next thing she knew her nose was being held, and as
she opened her mouth to breath something soft and wet was thrust into
it. Then she tasted her own sex and realised that she was being made
to bite on her own knickers. The hairbrush rose and fell again and she
sucked on the fabric furiously, drawing more of the strong, womanly
scent (that she had previously only delicately sniffed on her fingers
while masturbating) on to her tongue. Meanwhile her behind was buzzing
from the thrashing.

Tears fell on the carpet, and Rachel knew the whipping had served its
purpose. She took the pants out of Libby's mouth and put them to her
own nose, while her finger found the other's girl's most secret place.

"Going to be a good girl now?"

"Yes, mummy."

"Good."

Libby felt on the precipice of a climax. She was gently nudged over by
a warm, wet sensation on her vagina. "Oh fuck," she wailed, as she
recognised Rachel's mouth.