The Christmas Party Favor

By Alec Leamus

Sleigh bells and Christmas carols tauntingly reverberated in Don Parsteed's head. He tried to drown them in his fourth cup of coffee as he watched the snowfall. Past due bills and personal debts were piling up and now even his job seemed in jeopardy. The vicious cycle of worry begat distraction. This created more worry which had downsized him into a five by five windowless cubicle.

Worse was the timing of this downward spiral. The company Christmas party was tomorrow and his boss was fiercely pro family. The CEO, Mr. Arnold, understood divorce but did not seem to tolerate solo workers with no attachments. He translated a solitary man into an absent work ethic.

"A family man is a responsible man." He bragged.

Don saw many careers ruined that fateful evening while others drank eggnog nonchalantly. He remembered the former head of research Carl Lakewood. In the middle of his divorce he had attended the annual Christmas party with his new fiancÚ. He wasn't fired but he now resided in Brawley, California alone. The last time they spoke he was building communication motherboards. Unfortunately Don's situation seemed even worse than Carl's. And now his relationship with his daughter had worsened. Initially he had retained custody but presently she was living with her mother. The change was good for the young girl but it could not erase her behavior of previous years.

Three years ago she had almost single-handedly ended the entire Christmas party. An embarrassment that took Don months to extinguish. She arrived late, dressed more appropriately for a rock concert than a family gathering. And even at age fifteen she seemed quite sexy and grownup. She smoked incessantly. She bullied the younger children, flirted shamelessly with one coworker and picked a fight with another. Hotel management repeatedly stepped in to complain about the noise. It was horrifying. Worse still was the fact Don could not control her. This caused many employees to shake their heads in disappointment.

During the following weeks Don managed to squelch the images from the infamous party. He explained that the stress of the divorce had been difficult for the young girl. Finally to cover the fact that he could not control his own daughter he lied. He told everyone that Heather was now attending an exclusive boarding school and embellished the lie by adding she was quite gifted academically. Now in the proper environment she was flourishing.

Don sat at his small kitchen table by the window and contemplated his fate. The snowfall continued. The Christmas party was tomorrow and he was a man without a family. The fabrication of his daughter being away at school would not be wise and attending the party alone would seal his fate. He would most certainly be downsized again and eventually dismissed. Last year he managed to stay off the radar by feigning illness but that would not work this year.

Don had explored many possibilities in his mind: modeling agencies, school yards and other families. Each one seemed either too desperate or too creepy. He stared out the window motionless as he watched individual flakes plummet to the expanding white on the ground. Then in one swift gulp he downed the remnants of his cup. He turned toward the sink and caught a figure in the corner of his vision.

His neighbor, Sarah, plodded through the stretch of yard between the two houses. She spied Don, waved and flashed a generous smile at him. Don felt his legs move and in a moment he was chasing after her.

"Sarah, Sarah. Wait a minute!" Don puffed. "Can I talk to you?"

Sarah turned and smiled again. She had always liked Don and secretly had a small crush on him. She knew there was a difference in their ages. She was twenty-six and he was, well she wasn't quite sure, perhaps mid-thirties?

Don invited Sarah into his cold sparse living room.

"Sorry it's so cold in here." Don said as he fiddled with the thermostat. "The heater is not working very well."

He took several minutes preparing a fresh pot of coffee. He poured. Then he paced nervously, embarrassed by the impending question. Finally he plopped down and blurted everything out at once. Don explained the financial strain of the divorce, his current job status and his employer's provincial views.

"Don, you're crazy!" Sarah broke the uncomfortable silence. "No one will believe I'm your daughter."

"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have asked." Don sat defeated. "I am so fired."

"Don, it's just that I don't look anything like your daughter." Sarah soothed.

"No. I thought of that. She wore dark sunglasses. Plus some of the employees have been transferred to other branches." Don explained.

"Or been promoted." He added grudgingly. "And she's been at boarding school or that's what I've been telling people. So she's changed some. So as far as anyone recognizing her I think it's okay." Don's tone lifted.

"Don, I really appreciate you thinking of me but isn't there someone else? I mean a relative or a friend from work? Well, no that wouldn't work." Sarah trailed off.

"I've racked my brain!" Don blurted.

Sarah looked over at him. Her eyes moved over his square jaw line outlined in stubble and noticed the bright light from the bay window as it played on his fingers. Don heaved a sigh pushed back his hair.

"I am so fired," he quietly repeated.

"Don, couldn't I go as your wife, fiancÚ, girlfriend, sister?" Sarah slowly asked.

"No. They all know my wife too well and they know I'm in the middle of a divorce and that I'm an only child. It's all in my file. Someone would find out. It's a strict family only event." Don rattled quickly. He hastily related Carl Lakewood's saga and even added a few others. Much of what he knew was rumor but in his desperation he decided to stack the deck in his favor.

"We're instructed to bring one immediate family member. That's all. It's private, no boyfriends or girlfriends. My boss is a nut!" Don ended.

A moment of silence passed.

"Don, I look too old." Sarah stated.

Don looked up.

"I know you're older. I mean, it's crazy I know. But you could pull it off. It's why I asked you." Don hesitated. "You're cute!"

Sarah knew what Don meant. She was only five foot one and weighed around one hundred pounds. She had maintained her youthful looks through diet and a blessing of good genetics. It was not unusual for her to be carded at a club. But Sarah's life was not filled with night clubs or fun. She had graduated early and landed an excellent entry level management position with a marketing company. Within a year she was promoted and the extra income prompted her to purchase a house in the suburbs as an investment.

However, after several months of maintaining her rental property and paying for her apartment in the city; she traded her city address for a suburban one. This had halted her social life and made meeting men even more difficult. The men she did meet were corporate prowlers and not suited to Sarah's long term plan.

She felt lucky that fate had placed her next to Don. From the beginning she had imagined a relationship with him. She knew she could help guide his life back on track. Now this opportunity had opened before her. If she was successful it could plant the seeds of a romance. Their chemistry was obvious. Often they had shamelessly flirted but never acted on the impulse.

"You really think I can pull it off?" Sarah asked.

Don's eyes shot up at her with the look of a little boy on Christmas morning. She spent the next thirty minutes calming Don and eased him into the idea that she may not be able to help.

"I'll try." She said as she excused herself upstairs.

Sarah stood at the threshold of Heather's old room and scanned the crude labels on the boxes of clothing. It had been years since she had been a teenager. Styles had changed but Sarah's anatomy had not. Sarah was quite comfortable with her shape but occasionally felt awkward among more developed women. Physical anatomy aside her success with men had been very good until her career had blossomed. However, the past two years had left little time for romance. Don was the closest she had to a boyfriend. A thought that made her a little sad.

Three years of Don's procrastination provided Sarah with numerous options from Heather's discarded past. Minutes ticked away while Sarah tore open box after box as Don wore a path in his living room floor. At thirty-five minutes Sarah triumphantly turned towards the mirror to admire her handiwork. She had chosen a pair of stylish yet childish jeans and a light pink sweater. The sweater was small. It also had an unfortunate effect on her breasts as it made her seem a little flat. Sarah frowned but rationalized it made her seem younger. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and opted to present her transformation barefoot. Heather's shoes were much too large for Sarah.

Upon hearing the bedroom door open Don stood at attention. Sarah bounded downstairs to be inspected but stopped on the third step as Don's smile evaporated.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"No. It's nothing. I can't" Don stuttered.

"No. What? It's okay. Is it my hair?"

"It's everything. You look too sexy. I mean you look a little younger but you don't look like a daughter. You're wearing jeans, this is a fancy party. You still have makeup on..." Don's voice trailed off. Sarah was an attractive girl willing to help him. The first person in weeks to show him any real kindness. He felt traitorous by his explanation.

The silence was long and awkward.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do this." Don said.

"Wait Don, I have an idea. There were some other boxes."

Sarah disappeared upstairs and immediately returned with a box in which the word "School" was scrawled in red marker.

"I'll call you in a couple of hours." She said.

Sarah grabbed her coat, pulled on her Uggs and hurried back to her house. In a whirlwind of activity she gathered up beauty products. Sarah's logical corporate mind now analyzed the problem from a new angle. Simply changing her clothes was not the answer. That was too easy. She needed to turn back the clock from the inside out. Sarah imagined a more complete transformation and mentally created a physical checklist from head to toe.

In the shower she shaved everywhere. She wasn't going to strip for anyone but it completed her mindset. The cold snow outside dictated a long hot sensual shower. Slowly she lathered her smooth body. Her fingers caressed her backside and she reached under to feel the hairless track. When she found the heat between her legs she obliged herself. It was delicious and by the time Sarah had finished the entire bathroom was perfumed with a sexual fog. Sarah continued with a convenient hair rinse which muted her natural highlights. This left her hair dark almost brown in color. Exfoliation followed by a generous application of skin lightening concluded her shower. She opened the door and dried her body. Her skin felt tight and tingly. Still wrapped in a towel she telephoned next door.

"Don? I think I did it. I think you will be very pleased. No. Trust me. You'll see tomorrow. No I think it will all be okay. Yes. You're welcome. I don't know...perhaps a nice dinner? Great." Sarah clicked end and laughed.

"What a way to get a date!" she exclaimed aloud.

In the next few hours Sarah groomed, plucked and repeated the skin lightening applications. It was eleven o'clock before she climbed into bed and dreamed of impressing Don and fooling everyone.

"Don you're staring again." Sarah repeated.

Don jerked his eyes forward and the Toyota Corolla swerved.

"Sorry. It's just that you look so young." Don hesitated.

"You don't think I overdid it do you?" Sarah asked as she hinged down the passenger mirror and admired her handiwork.

Twelve hours ago, Sarah had found tucked among the boxes of clothing a few random photos of the Parsteed family. The photos were old and faded but useful as a guide. Originally Sarah had imagined a school uniform. Psychologically most people did not see beyond uniforms or badges. This would strengthen her youthful illusion. She donned a few pieces of Heather's old school jumper amazed at how authentic she appeared. She posed coyly a few times and turned her foot inward as she placed a shy finger to her lips. She twirled then giggled as she caught sight of her bare bottom in the mirror.

"Panties!" She reminded herself aloud.

But they were attending a Christmas party and that costume seemed inappropriate.

So after much deliberation Sarah decided to present herself as a young girl dressed as an adult. It was a challenge and she doubted her final creation. However, Don's overwhelming positive reaction put aside her fears. Sarah had carefully chosen a typical children's ensemble for the holidays. A red velvet dress trimmed in white frilly lace. She was simultaneously pleased and disheartened that the dress actually fit. The cut of the dress had a similar effect on her anatomy as the previous pink sweater. Straight lines of red velvet that reached to her knees. White knee socks and simple black patent leather shoes completed her trip back to childhood.

"No, you look great!" Don said reassuringly. "Now we'll only be here for two hours at the most. I promise. There's a cocktail hour, a few awards, some speeches and then that's it. I have to stay for the awards. My head of department is being recognized."

Sarah knew he was lying about the time but smiled anyway. "Okay Daddy."

Don's face crinkled uncomfortably. The kind of expression a man makes when a very attractive woman is too forward too soon.

"I think Dad is fine." Don swallowed as he jerked the wheel again.

The Grand Hotel is a lavish downtown destination especially during the holiday season. The foyer features a mammoth Christmas tree whose thick lush pine branches tickle the high ceiling. It is painstakingly trimmed in rich fabrics of burgundy and gold and adorned by glittering ornaments. Beyond the tree the grand staircase beckoned. Its cherrywood banister intertwined with garland, bows and twinkling lights created an atmosphere of yuletide sophistication.

Don and Sarah stood transfixed by the opulence of the scene. They halted on the intricate parquet floor and breathed in the aromatic pine. A steady stream of hotel guests and employees maneuvered around them like a migrating flock of birds. The tree was breathtaking. Overwhelmed by the romance of the moment Sarah, without thinking, slowly reached for Don's hand.

"Oh, good idea." Don agreed.

Foolishness rushed through her as Don took her hand and rejoined the flow. She wanted to explain. She yearned to tell Don she took his hand not for appearances but out of emotion. But it was difficult to speak as Don hastened her past specialty gift shops and dodged hotel guests.

Briefly they detoured to a half door and traded tickets for their coats. Sarah slipped her stub into the small matching purse she had fortunately found with the black shoes. The purse was empty except for a few choice pieces of makeup and ten dollars in cash. In keeping with her new persona she had deliberately left her own identity at home. The absent weight of a cell phone, driver's license and credit cards served her sense of theatricality.

Down the stairs next to the garden the small sign in front of the mahogany door read "Breckman Techn0l0gies". They both smiled. It was obvious that the letter "o" was popular this evening since the sign sported two prominent zeroes in its place.

Don grasped the brass handle and pulled the heavy door open. The private room was dominated in dark luxuriant green mixed with a myriad of brightly burning candles. The candlelight danced in and out of the mirrors and illuminated the smartly dressed adults. Festive ties swung with dark suits and mingled with shapely cocktail dresses as martini glasses chimed. Sarah rallied against her insecurities.

The next moment was a blur as Don introduced his way from one executive to another.

"Hello! Great party. This is my daughter Heather." Don said. This was followed by a quick noncommittal quip from the executive concerning either Heather's growth or dress. A dismissive nod and a quick hand shake completed the exchange. Then the pattern repeated.

After twenty minutes Don had exhausted his sycophantic obligations. Punch in hand Sarah sat on a high bar stool. Her feet dangled above the floor. This was not an usual occurrence but in her current state of dress she felt even more childish. She tugged at the hem of her dress and observed a group of Don's peers envelop him and begin a heated debate concerning commerce software.

While she sipped she watched Don's confidence emerge. He seemed to be standing straighter, taller and his voice had become more resonate. Once or twice during the conversation he turned and smiled at her. She had done well. She returned his smile and felt the back of her knees tingle. Her mind drifted to the hours after the party as Don lay her down on her bed. They laughed and shared the joke of the day. They had fooled them all but it was time to shatter the illusion of youth. She was a woman now. Sarah imagined Don's strong arms caressing her inner thigh. A small gasp escaped her lips.

A hard slap on the back shattered her daydream. She coughed and almost spilled the remainder of her punch.

"Hey are you Heather?" the kid asked.

"Uh, yes, I mean ya." Sarah snapped herself back into her role.

"You're that guy's kid? You were here before right?" The boy pressed.

"Yeah." She felt her suspicions rise.

After a pause the kid spoke again. "You look different."

"I've been at school." She shrugged.

And with that brief conversation the tension disappeared. Garret was thirteen with sandy brown hair and a small mole on his forehead.

"Bored? Wanna play?" He gestured over his shoulder through the large window.

"Outside? It's too cold." Sarah insisted.

She hopped off her stool and walked past the coffee station and peered through the dark tinted window. In the snow a group of well dressed children tossed an oversized battered top hat at a large snowman. Sarah thought they looked like small steam engines as they chugged around the yard and their warm breath puffed from their mouths.

"It's really cold. I better not." Sarah answered.

"It's not that cold besides you'll warm up once you play a little. It's easy you just try to land the hat on the snowman."

Sarah attempted to signal Don but he was not in sight. She contemplated then followed Garret outside. Sarah's view through the window had been deceptive as many of the children were taller than Sarah. The lively banter of play abruptly end as they approached. The kids parted like the Red Sea. A large boy walked directly up to Sarah and stared down at her.

"You Heather." He asked.


"Let's play."

He backed up and threw the hat at her. It wasn't hard but her hand stung when she caught it.

For a few minutes they tossed the hat at the snowman. Each attempt illicit cheers or jeers. Then the large boy whipped the top hat hard. It sailed over the hedge. To Sarah the action seemed deliberate.

"Go get it." he barked.

Sarah realized hiding out with the kids was a wiser plan that mingling with the adults. Here she had been accepted and there was less chance of her discovered. Adults have a tendency to ask too many questions. Questions she might not be able to answer correctly.

Sarah scrambled out of the yard and into the bushes. The kids darted in behind her. It was dark on the other side of the hedge. The soft glow of walkway lights did not penetrate into the clearing.

As she leaned over to pick up the hat they tackled her. The first blow was around her legs which caused her to sprawl out into the wet snow. Suddenly there was tremendous weight on her back and she felt an invasion of hands. Her first thought was they were playing but when they rolled her over onto her back she knew something was wrong.

The large boy, Billy Smigen, was sitting on her stomach and he was heavy. He had grown dramatically over the past three years. But it wasn't his size that concerned Sarah. It was his eyes. They were cold and penetrating. His icy stare transferred into Sarah and distributed cold down her limbs. Sarah did not feel she was in danger and imagined this might be some sort of an initiation ritual. That feeling quickly drained away when Billy spoke.

"Do you remember me?" He asked deliberately.

Sarah weighed her response carefully.

"Yeah, sure I do!" she answered.

"I'm Billy Smigen, the kid you picked on." He sneered.

"I lied. I don't remember you." She said.

Sarah tensed her arm and tried to pry it free it from the strangle hold of two blond girls. A good number of the children were practically sitting on her.

Then it began. A rapid barrage of suggestions.

"Make her eat snow!"

"Make her eat dirt!"

"Let's toss her in the pond."

"Punch her!"

Billy held up his hand and the small crowd went quiet.

Billy leaned close to Sarah's face.

"Do you remember you called me a kid. A little kid. You shoved me in the snow and stole my underwear and threw my pants over that tree limb."

Sarah's eyes had now adjusted. She strained past the children for an avenue of escape but was only met by the dark hedge. She struggled against her captors again.

"Stop it. You're not going anywhere. Not 'til we're done with ya." Billy said flatly.

"Look I didn't do anything. Let me up. You children need to get off of me!"

Sarah felt her back getting wetter and colder. Her panic rose and in a giant move she suddenly arched her back. The kids holding her left arm readjusted their grip but soon lost it. Sarah spooled over and bucked Billy up and back. He landed with a thud in the snow a few feet away. The other children tried to regroup but Sarah swept her hand down through the snow and then up. A few kids yelled as the icy white splashed them.

Possessed Sarah crawled on her hands and knees towards a break in the bushes. But as she reached the opening the large hand of Billy Smigen wrapped around her ankle and yanked hard. He dragged her back and landed a hard swat to her butt. Suddenly four more kids jumped onto her and knocked the wind out of Sarah. Heaving and in pain she realized she was pinned.

Sarah felt a hand wriggle under her dress and find the waistband of her panties. Her scream was instantly muffled with a convenient scarf. Billy's hand pulled downward. From under the scarf Sarah heard the muffled hoorays of children as if they had discovered a candy motherlode.

Brisk cold air instantly washed over Sarah's bare buttocks as her skirt was flipped onto her back. This only lasted a second before it was replaced by a hot searing pain. The pain of Billy Smigen spanking her!

He only managed to land five or six slaps before her instinct surfaced. Sarah freed one foot and sprung it squarely into Billy's groin which sent him sprawling back with a loud agonized scream. The other children stepped back in horror as Sarah scrambled through the hedge.

Bob Brady took an enormous amount of pride in his performance at The Grand Hotel. He had been the featured pianist in the lobby for the past five Christmases. It wasn't the greatest gig in the world but at age fifty-five options began to disappear for the aging musician. However, Bob did thoroughly enjoy the smiles from the guests as they zoomed past his baby grand Baldwin. Occasionally someone would stop and chat for a moment. Bob felt very accomplished that he could maintain an entire conversation without missing a note. So it was with great dismay that his hand slipped as he observed the statuesque blond cross his field of vision. Especially since he was alone at his keys.

She created a beautiful picture and it was accentuated when she accidentally dropped her valet claim ticket and bent over to pick it up. She was young but confidently striking. Bob quickly glanced around and sighed with relief that his faux pas had been missed.

Several male clerks stumbled to assist her when she approached the front desk.

"Excuse me? Where is the Breckman Technologies Christmas party?"

"Oh, uh downstairs in the Cherub Room. Would you like me to escort you?" The clerk asked eagerly.

"No thank you. I'll find it." She smiled.

Anthony, the desk clerk, swallowed hard and watched her black velvet dress disappear around the corner.

Fifteen minutes later Bob observed the same beautiful blond storm furiously back up the stairs away from the party. He watched her pace back and forth as he tripped through the chorus of Santa Claus is Coming To Town. She quickly clenched her fists and walked directly into the gift shop. A moment later she emerged with a pack of Capri cigarettes. She toyed with the unopened package of Capris then disappeared down a hallway.

Sarah did not know where she was going. Eyes blinded by tears and strained by the cold she ran. Left, right then left again and through several doors had deposited her into a service walkway of gray cement blocks. All she wanted to do now was run. She wanted to go home and strip off this masquerade but minus any money or credit cards meant she was stranded for the duration. She knew she could convince Don to take her home but only at the risk of damaging his reputation. She had made a promise. If she could just get back to the party and stay by Don's side she knew everything would be alright. Later she would tell him the story and retribution would be hers. The movie of her dressed in a professional business suit spanking a tiny Billy Smigen played through her head.

Down the soft carpeted hallway the plastic crackle of a cigarette package echoed. Alone the blond girl had wandered aimlessly away from the festivities of the lobby to debate her departure.

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted. Behind a closed service door a loud crash of metal mixing bowls hit the hard kitchen floor followed by the appearance of a young girl. The staff's voices chased her into the hallway.

"Hey kid!" "Watch it!" "You can't run through here!"

As if to answer the calls the young girl still moving forward turned her head backwards toward the door momentarily. Sarah slammed directly into the tall blond.

"Hey! Slow down. Are you alright?" She asked.

Sarah spun and faced her.

"Yes. I'm fine." Sarah answered with labored breath.

Sarah noticed her expression and continued.

"Some kids were chasing me."

Her eyes moved over Sarah's ensemble.

"Oh, I'm doing a favor for friend. A neighbor really. He asked me to...well it's uh complicated." Sarah realized she was gesturing aimlessly in the air and stopped.

"You're a bit old for an outfit like this aren't you?" The blond inquired.

"Yes. That's the complicated part. It's Don' was his daughter's and..."


"No, nothing like that! Uh, are you with the party downstairs?"

"No, but I was meeting someone."

Sarah paused as she noticed a slight twinge in the blond woman's face then stammered nervously further.

"See he had this Christmas party and his real daughter couldn't come and so...uh I know this sounds silly." Sarah apologized.

The blond stared at Sarah.

"It's just for tonight..."

"No I think I get it. You're pretending to be his daughter so he will look good for his boss. Very clever." She ticked. "Well, I guess you look pretty convincing."

The blond woman turned to walk away.

"You said pretty convincing. What did you mean pretty convincing?" Sarah said as she stepped toward her.

"Well, for starters, your hairstyle. You just pulled it back. And those shoes are wrong. You just look too grown up."

Sarah argued for a moment.

"Suit yourself but if you really wanted to look young your hair would be different. I can help you fix it, if you want. And you probably should clean yourself up. You're bleeding."

Sarah looked down at her wet dress and skinned knees caked with dirt.

"You can go back to the party like that if you want but it might be a bit embarrassing for your friend."

"No. That's the last thing he wants. I can't believe those kids jumped me. They were like a gang or something.'s just they really rattled me. I can't believe they did that!"

"My name is Sarah." She said extending her hand. "Well, Heather for tonight."

"Nice to meet you, Heather. My name is Veronica." the blond said.

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you. It was my mother's middle name."

Veronica smiled deeply. They walked toward the ladies room and Sarah elaborated her tale with details of her encounter in the snow.

"That's terrible." Veronica stopped. "You know, it's pretty busy in there. Why don't we go down here. We'll have more privacy."

Sarah agreed. At that moment there seemed to be a parade of women moving in and out of the ladies room. Veronica steered Sarah into a deserted sitting area. It was set deep into the wall surrounded by heavy moulding and designed as a quiet retreat from the main thoroughfare. A Victorian settee, a rosewood side table and a Thomas Kinkade painting completed the solace.

Sarah sat down while Veronica disappeared briefly then reappeared.

"Wow. The ladies room is well stocked. But it's a madhouse in there. I'm glad we're over here. We wouldn't have had any privacy in there."

"And someone might have seen me." Sarah added.

Veronica nodded then armed with the wet wash cloth she had added to her arsenal she cleaned Sarah's knees. Sarah winced.

"I think it's okay. It was just dirty. They're only skinned."

Veronica removed the loose twigs and debris that adhered to Sarah's dress. But when Veronica made a move toward Sarah's face, she recoiled.

"Hey." Sarah snapped.

"You have dirt on your face."

"Well, I can do that myself." Sarah said.

Veronica stood up and looked down on Sarah. She was silent. Sarah already felt foolish allowing this stranger to fuss over her. It was all too reminiscent of trips with her mother into powder rooms of her past.

"Sorry. I know you're just helping." Sarah said softly.

Veronica smiled as she wiped away the last of Sarah's adulthood.

"Uh-oh. Looks like your shoes and socks are really muddy and wet."

Veronica knelt down and pried them off. In her present position Veronica's vantage point gave her a clear view up Sarah's legs. She stifled a small giggle when she spied Sarah's smooth bare privates. Fascinated she tried not to stare but Sarah's pussy did not have any lips. Instead it was a smooth slit. This was not unusual in women but to Veronica it enhanced her already youthful appearance.

"I'll see if I can't get these dry or maybe even find you another pair. I'll be right back. Stay right there." Veronica commanded.

Sarah sat obediently. Soft Christmas music filled the nearby hallway. She listened to Nat King Cole then Elvis, then Darlene Love. Sarah wanted to move but was under the impression Veronica would return soon.

"Got it." Veronica announced as she held up a Grand Hotel gift shop bag. She settled and dug into the bag.

"Now let's fix that hair." Veronica brandished a pair of scissors.

"No. We don't need to do that. My hair is fine."

"Really?" Veronica reached up and pulled a leaf of ivy from Sarah's hair and showed it to her. "You're a mess and you have dirt or sap or something stuck in it. I used to trim my own hair all the time."

"I don't know. It just seems we're getting pretty deep here. I just wanted to clean up. I should get back."

Veronica stood and placed her hands on her hips.

Sarah's mind again flashed to her mother's defensive behavior when confronted with her stubbornness. Wearily her shoulders instinctively slumped.

"Okay, but just be careful." She shook the maternal memory away.

"I will. I'm just going to trim out the sticky part."

Veronica quickly snipped and gripped portions of Sarah's hair. Occasionally she barked a request. "Turn, lower your head or close your eyes."

After the haircut she brushed and fussed a bit more as the anticipation and anxiety welled in Sarah.

Finally Veronica triumphantly exclaimed. "Voila! You look great. You said you wanted to look young. Well, now you do."

"Okay." Sarah said quietly. The absence of a mirror left her little choice but to agree.

"I should get going. There's a few things I bought at the gift shop for you. I noticed you didn't have any panties. It didn't cost much so don't worry about it. Maybe, buy me a drink." Veronica looked Sarah up and down." Well maybe I'll have to buy you a drink."

"Uh, Thank you. Really. Thanks for all your help." Sarah said.

Veronica walked back and hugged Sarah, her breasts smothered her face for a moment.

"See you downstairs. Don't be too long, remember your friend."

Sarah dug inside the bag and found white tights and pair of simple black shoes. At first Sarah thought the package of white tights was a joke. The photo on the front of the package obviously meant they were for a very young girl. However, without panties she opted to wear them. It was cold outside. She pulled off her wet knee socks and tossed them aside. The tights were a very snug fit and the last few inches were a bit of a struggle. At one point Sarah was unsure they would even fit at all but they stretched and snapped over her legs and butt tightly. They seem to compress everything. If her legs appeared thin before now they were childishly coltish. And her bottom had lost all of its shapeliness and resembled a young boy's. The shoes were little more than slippers but they were better than her muddy ones. Sarah looked around for her old shoes and realized Veronica must've taken them by mistake.

Sarah hurried back downstairs and peered apprehensively into the Cherub Room. She felt like she had been gone for an eternity. By now she was sure Don was searching for her, but the scene had remained the same. Don was still talking with his group. And no one seemed to notice as she reentered the party. Slowly she moved across the room towards Don and mingled close to other adults pretending to listen. She feared the gang of kids would find her again but reassured herself that they would never try anything in a room full of adults.

Soon the congratulatory speeches would commence. Then afterward they would go home. She was still undecided as to whether she would tell Don about the incident in the snow. Her thoughts drifted to the ride home and a job well done. When they arrived Don would escort her inside and nature would overtake them both. She lingered in her daydream but it was quickly interrupted.

"Are you Heather Partsteed? Don's daughter?" A older woman steamed.


"Come with me."

The older woman gripped her upper arm and maneuvered her through the sea of partygoers. Sarah desperately tried to signal Don but the older woman pulled her too swiftly. Oblivious Don remained engrossed in full conversation. The older woman's hold was strong. Sarah wanted to protest but was still afraid of causing any embarrassment for Don. On the opposite side of the room, separated from the party, against the far wall stood Billy Smigen and three other women. As they moved closer Sarah noticed that Billy was sniffling and that one of the women was Veronica. "Perhaps we would be better suited to do this in here so as not to disturb the party." The older woman stated. The others nodded their heads and before Sarah could even speak she found herself being ushered into the adjacent room. It was similar in style but much smaller. Several large red leather chairs stood around the room and the faint odor of stale cigars permeated the air. The only heat in the room emanated from a large brick fireplace where a small blaze flickered calmly.

The four women sat down and Billy instinctually stepped off to the side. The women smoothed their skirts and adjusted their chairs to face Sarah. Sarah moved to sit in one of the open chairs but a small nod from Veronica waved her off. One of the other women turned to Billy.

"Is this the girl?"

Billy nodded then sniffed.

"You may go." The older spoke.

"No. I think he should stay for this" The first woman said.

Frustrated Sarah blurted out. "He attacked me!"

No one moved. The stillness became too much for her and she spoke again.

"What the hell is going on? What is this?"

"You see." The third woman said.

"We are all very aware of your behavior now and in the past. You have been a major disruption at these events for long enough and tonight it is going to stop." The older woman announced. Her eyes bore into Sarah's.

Sarah glanced at Veronica in a plea for answers.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you." Sarah snapped her attention back to the older woman as she continued. "Tonight however, you have crossed the line. You could have seriously injured this boy with your violence."

"That is something we will not tolerate." The second woman quipped.

The older woman grimaced at the interruption then spoke again.

"Obviously your father has not taken a firm enough hand with you. So we are taking matters into our own hands." The older woman gestured at the other occupants of the chairs. "I think it only fitting that Billy's mother is present and the other event planning committee members of which whose parties you have attempted to single-handedly destroy year after year."

"And of course your aunt who gave us full permission." The older woman waved a hand in Veronica's direction.

Sarah was too shocked to speak but managed to squeak out. "My aunt? Permission for what?"

Veronica held up a hand and the other women relaxed. She leaned in and spoke quietly to Sarah.

"I had to tell them something. So I said I was your aunt. I overheard them talking about you and that boy. They were really mad. They talked about calling the cops so I stepped in. I thought calling the cops would be really bad for your friend. So I said I would take care of it. I said I would punish you at home. I figured we would have a laugh about it later. I no idea she was going to storm out there and snatch you up."

"What do you mean punish?" Sarah whispered.

Veronica ignored her. "I know this Mrs. Conroy, she's tough. They're all very upset. They're not going to just let this go. They think you might have really hurt that boy."

"He attacked me. They all did. Did you tell them that?"

"I tried but they are very set." Veronica moved back to her chair.

"Alright. Let's take care of this right now." The older woman rose from her chair. "I had hoped that your aunt would be able to deal with this directly but I have certainly handled many a young girl in my day and I have no qualms in punishing this hellion on my own. Martha, the door please."

The second woman moved to the door.

"Wait a minute!" Sarah shouted.

The room stopped.

"She is not my aunt. This is ridiculous. This whole thing has been a lie. I don't want to have to tell you this but I am not Don Parsteed's daughter. I'm his neighbor. I know. He told me all about this company and your family only policies. I agreed to help him out. I know I am getting him in trouble but this has gone far enough. That boy attacked me! All his friends did."

"Miss Parsteed. Heather. We have heard all your lies before and frankly the time for talking is done." Mrs. Conroy spoke solemnly.

"It's not a lie. To be perfectly honest..." She sighed. "I'm twenty six."

Silence followed by uproarious laughter filled the room. The sound stung Sarah beyond her senses. How could this be so unbelievable to these women? Surely they can see I'm not a child she thought.

"I have ID. I have a degree in marketing..." Sarah stammered shocked by their reaction.

The laughter faded into a low chuckle.

"I do!" Sarah emphasized with a stamp of her foot. An action that caused two of the women to resume their laughter.

"Well let's see this ID of yours then." Mrs. Conroy quizzed as she extended her open hand.

"Maybe it's in here!" Martha ripped the small purse off Sarah's arm.

"Hey!" Sarah snapped. The chain dangled and rattled as Martha pried open the tiny purse.

"Come here." Mrs. Conroy clipped. She placed her strong hands on Sarah's shoulders and pushed her towards the smoky mirror on the wall. "Now, what do you see?"

For the first time since her makeover session with Veronica, Sarah saw herself. She was shocked. Her mouth hung open. She tried to reconcile the image before her but was unable to even speak. In the mirror, staring back at her was a little girl. In her enthusiasm Veronica had cut the front part of her hair into bangs and managed to weave the remaining hair into two braided pigtails! The added white barrettes, lack of makeup, velvet dress and white tights produced a startling effect that was a deep drink from the fountain of youth. The loss of her original heels enhanced her reduced form. She looked even shorter. And Mrs. Conroy appeared as a giant.

"Now does that look like a grownup to you Heather?" Mrs. Conroy condescended.

Sarah eyes spotted Veronica in the mirror smiling. In a blind rage, fueled by embarrassment and frustration, Sarah threw herself at Veronica.

"What did you do?! I look like I'm twelve years old. You cut my hair! You ruined my hair!" She screamed.

The first blow landed hard into Veronica's stomach. She doubled over and backed away. She advanced to strike again but two giant hands descended onto Sarah and wrapped around her arms.

Veronica straightened up, her breath played staccato for moment then calmed.

"You know what Mrs. Conroy? Perhaps you are right and I should just handle this myself properly right now." Veronica stated coldly.

Veronica's eyes narrowed and she reached for Sarah. If Mrs. Conroy's grip was a five then Veronica's was a definite ten. With maximum effort Sarah twisted against Veronica's pull across the room. When Veronica reached the first open high backed chair she sat down quickly and sank into the soft red leather. It was at this moment that the full impact of the previous conversations fell upon Sarah. The word "punish" rang in her head like a bad hangover. Veronica's gaze was locked on Sarah. Her expression was like stone. Sarah writhed.

"No, no NO! You can't do this!" Sarah yelled. "I'm not a child I'm twenty- six! I'm not..."

"Found it! It was in the side compartment." Martha exclaimed. "Well, well, well, look at this."

Mrs. Conroy, the mother and the other woman crowded around the photo ID.

"Heather Parsteed, Student ID, Madison Junior High, lunch period five." Martha read aloud.

Mrs. Conroy took the ID from Martha and shoved it under Sarah's nose. Sarah paused her struggle just long enough to focus on the laminated card. It was not terribly official but the photo was damning. Amazingly, the young girl in the photo did resemble Sarah. Her hair was dark and braided and the facial structure was close. To the casual observer it was the same girl that struggled before them. The connection was not hard to make. Sarah narrowed her eyes in an attempt to focus on the small photo. Something drew her further in, some small detail in the eyes and around the mouth. Suddenly Sarah's eyes widened. She immediately spun her head into the smiling face of her captor.


Veronica's evil smile broadened.

"That's not me! It's her she's..." Sarah's voice was cut off as Veronica jerked her arm hard. Sarah tumbled onto her lap.

"Noooooo!"Sarah screamed. She tried to push her body up but felt an arm snake around her waist and tighten. She writhed and twisted against Veronica's arm. She was pinned.

In addition to her generous physical improvements Heather Veronica Parsteed had also grown intellectually. Life with her mother the past three years had been a great blessing. Heather's weekly pilates class and tennis lessons had given her sex appeal and poise. But more importantly her usual arrogance and aggression had been replaced by a more subtle approach. In her new environment she realized she could more easily achieve her desires through manipulation. This internal discovery opened a whole new world to Heather. But this resulted in frequent reflective thoughts on her previous behavior; especially where her father was concerned. Of course she hadn't become a whole new person but rather learned a better way to obtain her wishes. However, outward appearances were important now. So in the spirit of the season Heather decided to make the two hour drive and surprise her father at his company's Christmas party.

At first he was very pleased to see her but his excitement quickly dissipated. He spoke to her in hushed tones while his gaze searched the room. In the dimly lit corner into which he had beckoned her, he disjointedly tried to explain his dilemma. The final blow came when he asked her to leave.

"You can't be my daughter tonight." Don said unthinkingly.

It would be difficult to untangle the truth from the lies Heather had previously whispered to Sarah. They were so intricately woven in her statements. It was true she had stepped in but only to manipulate the situation to her own satisfaction. Heather harbored no deep ill will towards Sarah except for those unexplainable feelings a daughter experiences when a new woman enters her father's life. Jealousy mixed with neglect either for the loss of a father figure or the abandonment of childhood. These are strong emotions. In adults usually these feelings can be reasoned out but in the hands of an eighteen year old they can emerge in explosive forms.

"Please continue with your duty." Mrs. Conroy interrupted.

Heather needed no further prompting. All of her pent up frustration and disappointment channeled into her right hand and it descended squarely onto Sarah's bottom repeatedly.

Sarah screamed.

A wide grin spread across Billy's face. Martha stood by the door ready for intruders. The two other women watched passively.

Heather continued her rhythm as Sarah screamed and twisted. Once or twice Sarah felt Heather's grip relax slightly. It was then she pushed with all of her strength in an attempt roll off of Heather's lap. But each demonstration of escape only caused Heather to tighten her grip and quicken her pace. In her annoyance Heather flipped the hem of Sarah's skirt onto her back.

"No don't!" Sarah screamed. "Don't! You spanked me enough you bitch!"

"Bitch, huh?" Heather answered.

"Well obviously not." Mrs. Conroy stepped forward. "Billy turn around." She commanded.

Mrs. Conroy reached and grabbed the waistband of Sarah's white tights. She pulled them to her knees and revealed the two small pink globes.

"Oh my she not wearing any panties?!" Martha exclaimed still on guard at the door. Billy's mother clucked her tongue while Billy snuck a look through the corner of his eye.

"Thank you." Heather strained to maintain her hold as Sarah struggled even more.

Sarah bent her arm back to protect her bare bottom but Heather merely wrapped her hand around Sarah's wrist and screwed it up her back. This caused Sarah to scream again.

"NO! Not on the bare! You don't understand. I'm not a child. I'm not Heather, she is. I was..."

The spank that landed onto her bare bottom reverberated loudly in the room. The pain was excruciating and Sarah exploded with a string of expletives.

"Mrs. Conroy? The noise." Martha's voice cut through.

Without skipping a beat Mrs. Conroy bobbed her head in agreement and walked to a side table where a mug of candy canes rested. She chose one and unwrapped it.

"I know how children like sweets." Mrs. Conroy said nicely.

Sarah opened her mouth to answer her but Mrs. Conroy jammed the candy cane sideways into her mouth.

Mrs. Conroy spoke again in a darker tone. "You spit that out and I'll give her the wooden hairbrush I have in my purse. And she'll use that on you. You little brat!"

Heather was far from tired and the smile had not vanished from her face. Sarah's screams and yells had subsided but the steady sounds of the spanking had not. And it now became a base beat for Heather's vocal taunts.

"Not so big now are we? Are you going to be a good little girl? Are you going to mind your elders and be respectful?"

Each line was either met with an agreeable nod or prompted to one by a barrage of hard spanks onto Sarah's upper thighs. That tender place where her ass met her legs.

Sarah was determined not to cry but the spanking finally proved to be too much for her. Her bottom was on fire and the tears welled in her eyes. Saliva and spit foamed in her mouth and drool pooled out of the corners. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Too fearful to spit out the candy cane she begged as best she could through the obstacle for Heather to stop.

"You just a little girl? Aren't you?!


Sarah nodded emphatically in hopes that the spanking would end. She could not take much more. She was finding it difficult to breathe past the syrupy bit in her teeth.

But Heather showed no signs of stopping.

"You tried to fool everyone didn't you?"


Another deep shake of Sarah's head. She had stopped struggling minutes ago but found it impossible to resist kicking her legs.

"But you know you couldn't fool me!"

Each line was punctuated by a slap.

"Bad!" SPANK!

"Bad!" SPANK!

"Little girl!" SPANK!

"Where is your real ID? Your cell phone? Your credit cards? Your car? Huh?!"

Heather reigned a succession of sharp spanks down onto Sarah's rapidly reddening bottom.

"You don't have these things do you? You were just lying, right?"


Sarah sobbed through her candy cane a muffled unintelligible answer.

"Because you are too young to have these things? Right?! How old are you Heather?"

Heather paused and listened. Even through the sweet bit in her mouth it was obvious that Sarah had said she was twenty-six.

"Wrong answer liar!"


Sarah screamed through the candy cane again and kicked her legs.

"I'll tell you what. I'm going to help you Heather. I'm going to help you tell me how old you really are. But first, Mrs. Conroy, I think I'm going to need that hairbrush." Heather said calmly.

Martha was amazed that she hardly seemed winded at all.

Upon hearing the word hairbrush Sarah resumed her struggle with the little energy she had retained. It was a pitiful attempt and Heather barely noticed.

Mrs. Conroy searched for her purse. Then Billy's mother joined the search after stern look at Billy warning him not to turn around.

"It's under the chair." Billy's mother said.

She reached but then with an irritated sigh she pulled the chair out of the way and picked up the purse. Mrs. Conroy ferreted in the large leather bag then produced the dreaded item.

Heather weighed the wooden hairbrush in her hand. "Now let's start with how old you say you are, twenty-six. An obvious lie. Just look at yourself." She chuckled. "I will start to count backwards from there. I want you to count with me. When we get to your right age signal me. I want you to scream as loud as you can. But you better make me believe it or we'll start all over again."

It was diabolical game. Sarah had no idea what answer she was supposed to give.

"Did you hear me?" Heather lightly popped Sarah's right cheek.

"Yeth!" Sarah shouted.

She bounced up at the moment the brush contacted her already tender bottom. But she wished she had resisted the involuntary action. For in her haste to locate Mrs. Conroy's purse Billy's mother had moved the large chair directly in front of Sarah. Behind the chair was a large full length mirror and the image in the mirror was overwhelming. Sarah burst into tears as Heather began her horrible game.

"Twenty-six POP!, twenty-five POP!, twenty-four POP!, twenty-three POP!, twenty-two POP! Twenty-one POP!" Heather stopped. "This is the point of no return now isn't it?"

Sarah was not listening. Her eyes were glued to the terrible reflection in the mirror. The tall womanly blond with the tiny young girl draped over her knee. The little girl looked back at her. Her red eyes dripped with tears. The ridiculous braids bobbed around her swollen face and in her mouth surrounded by drool, a candy cane.

"No longer legal after this. Can't drink right? Twenty POP!, Nineteen POP!, Eighteen POP!" Heather stopped again.

The pain of the hairbrush as it danced on Sarah's delicate cheeks created patterns of deep red. Heather shifted forward on the chair and arched her back slightly. Her large breasts strained against the fabric of her velvet dress. Heather readjusted her position and grip as she kept her knees close together.

"No, I'm sorry. This is the real point of no return. No longer even an adult. Someone would have to take care of you. But that's what I'm doing now, isn't it?"

Sarah's mind circled the question but the distraction from the mirror was too much. Before Heather had shifted her weight Sarah had been looking more or less straight into the mirror. Now she was looking up. Her head had been lowered and this had revealed how absolutely childish she appeared across Heather's lap. Her mind screamed at her that she was still twenty-six with a good job, a home and a marketing degree. However, it was hard to reconcile this thought with the image of the diminutive little girl in braids with her tights pulled down around her knees and her bright red bottom on display. She was older than this girl and she was the one being spanked.

"Okay. Moment of truth. Make me believe it. Seventeen POP!, Sixteen POP!"

Sarah screamed as loud as she could through her candy cane.

"Whoops. Looks like you jumped the gun there. I think I might be inclined to believe that but you don't quite look like a sixteen year old now do you?"

Heather grazed a finger across Sarah's bare pussy. Sarah shuddered and watched Mrs. Conroy, Martha and Billy's mother reflection smile. They were getting an eyeful standing behind her as she kicked her legs.

"I suppose you could have shaved down there but what self respecting sixteen year old would do that? I remember how proud I was when I finally had hair. So I guess we will have to start again." Heather laughed. "But let's not try to fool me anymore and let's make this quick. I would really like to get back to the party."

And with that quiet statement Heather put her shoulder into her work. She attacked Sarah's bare bottom with the hairbrush counting out loud as she worked her way backwards through Sarah's twenties and into her teenage years. Each spank of the hairbrush seemed to have an magical effect attached to it. The years did seem to be literally melting away from Sarah as she grew younger. Heather's lap grew larger. Her resistance seemed insignificant as Sarah got smaller and younger descending into childhood again.

"Twenty-six POP!, Twenty-five POP!, Twenty-four, POP!, Twenty-three POP!, Twenty-two POP!, Twenty-one POP!, Twenty POP!, Nineteen POP!, Eighteen POP!, Seventeen POP! Sixteen POP! Fifteen POP!, Fourteen POP! Thirteen POP"

Sarah screamed with the last bit of energy she could muster and snapped the candy cane in half. Her bottom was blazing. She shook and sobbed uncontrollably.

"There now" Heather said as she handed the hairbrush back to a smug Mrs. Conroy. "Feels good to be honest doesn't? Thirteen. That sounds about right and I believe you. But...would be alright to ask Billy to leave now?"

"Billy, go back to the party." Billy's mother said.

Billy extricated himself from the wall he had been facing. A few times at the height of the ordeal he had sneaked a peek at the girl being spanked but it was never long enough. Now he walked to the door with his head craned. The view was magnificent and he would remember it forever.

"Billy, now! March!" His mother added sharply.

The sounds of the party briefly filtered into the room before being quieted again.

Sarah was limp. Unable to catch her breath she sniffled and cried in between breaths.

"As I was saying I believe you but I don't know if you believe it. Knowing you as I do I think you may be telling me what I want to hear."

A sharp slap elicited a moan of disagreement from Sarah.

"No. I'm not" Sarah said wearily.

"Well let's settle this issue once and for all."

Heather pulled Sarah onto her feet. She instinctively reached for her bottom but Heather swatted her hands away.

"Do that again and back over you go." Heather pointed to her lap.

Sarah remained motionless.

Heather rose majestically from the leather chair. Mrs. Conroy and the other two women were perfectly content to be witnesses to this event. Frankly they were relieved since the burden of any abuse or maltreatment was officially out of their hands. The fact that a member of the family had disciplined the trouble maker was perfect. And in further thought, considering the circumstances of the altercation with Billy Smigen and Heather's past behavior, few people would have questioned the four women and their decision.

"I want to show you something." Heather said as she bent down.

Heather instructed Sarah to step out of each of her shoes then pulled down the coiled up remainder of Sarah's tights. She tossed them both aside and took Sarah's hand and led her to the smoky mirror on the wall.

"Turn around." Heather commanded.

Sarah turned and Heather undid the bow in the back of Sarah's dress and unzipped it. In a flash Heather whisked the all too familiar dress off of Sarah. Partly numb and partly out of fear, Sarah did not react. Instead she stood there still sniffling in only her bra. A training bra she had found along with the purse that had so damned her earlier testimony.

Heather walked the red velvet dress over to the previously discarded items and returned to Sarah.

The three women stared as Heather proceeded to unzip her own dress and step out of it. Martha smiled at the lithe toned body. Heather was impressively poised and mannered but she also possessed a killer body. She had a healthy tan, long legs and a waist at twenty-five inches. The black lacy panties hugged her smooth rounded thirty-five inch hips. Her matching black bra barely contained her thirty-six inch C cup breasts. All of this was neatly packaged together into a one hundred and thirty-five pound nearly six foot frame topped by a mane of flowing blond hair. Heather also had been blessed with a beautiful face. She was often asked if she had modeling experience. This was not a ploy or a pick up line but a true inquiry based on her features.

The three women shifted nervously in their seats. Heather leaned over and gave Sarah a clear view of her cleavage. She smiled wickedly and snaked her hands behind Sarah's back and undid her bra. Again she sashayed over to the discarded clothing and deposited the bra with other items.

Sarah now stood completely nude in the middle of the floor. She shook, not from the cold, but from the residual sobs that still racked her body. Embarrassment tried to take hold of her but she remembered Heather's warning. What seemed odd to her was that the other women did not seem to object to her nudity. To them she was just another little girl. Older women are used to seeing young girls in their underwear or even nude she told herself.

Then Heather did something that caused the three women to tighten.

"I'm making a point here." She shot at them.

This seemed to quiet any reservations as to Heather's methods. The women nodded and relaxed again. Heather wriggled out of her panties and bra and stood proudly nude in front of the three women. None of them flinched.

Heather turned to Sarah.

"Look at me Heather." She commanded.

Sarah lifted her eyes from the floor. The only place where she was not forced to endure a condemning gaze. Sarah drank in the full beauty of Heather's form.

"See? I'm a woman." She turned Sarah into the mirror. "And you, are just a little girl."

Sarah stared at herself again then allowed her eyes to slowly drift back to Heather's naked body. Her large breasts mocked her.

"Look at my breasts. See how full they are." Heather's two hands cupped the bottom of her breasts and lifted them. She shifted her hips back and forth in the mirror.

"Now look at your breasts." Heather reached out and lifted Sarah's right breast gently. "You're just a A cup. You're barely there. Now look at my pussy. You know that word? Pussy? Right?" Heather asked in that certain condescending tone.

"I shave mine but I need to." Heather continued.

It was true. Heather sported a small strip above her otherwise clean vagina.

"Now see how bare you are."

Sarah looked into the mirror. She remembered shaving but now that seemed odd and wrong to her. She wasn't sure if she ever had hair down there.

Heather continued to noted their bodily differences. Only occasionally did she pause to elicit a nod of agreement or move provocatively for Sarah. When she compared their bottoms. Sarah was not at all surprised to see hers was red and swollen. The hairbrush had left a real impression.

Finally Heather stepped up close to Sarah and turned her roughly into the mirror. Heather still had on her shoes and the difference in their height was staggering. Sarah truly looked like a prepubescent girl next to the rounded amazon Heather. She sniffled again.

"So you see you were just pretending to be a big girl weren't you? You're not really. Look at yourself and now look at me." Sarah stared in the mirror.

Sarah was in shock. Her mind drunk with pain and humiliation. Had she really regressed? What had started out as a game for Sarah had turned into a complete nightmare. After all she was merely pretending to be a young girl, she wasn't really. Her mind swam. Had the hairbrush forced her back down the ladder of her adulthood? Did each swat of the brush wipe away a year at a time until she was left as a skinny kid? What would happen if Heather spanked her again? Would she get even younger? She swooned. Was this some kind of Christmas magic? A punishment for her past misdeeds? The evidence seemed irrefutable. Sarah stood before them as a flat chested, pale hairless child. And before her stood the image of womanhood and she did not measure up. All the other women in the room believed she was a child. Perhaps she was? Sarah nodded meekly.

Heather placed her hands on her hips. "How old are you, really? And make me believe it."

Sarah mumbled.

"Say it out loud." Heather commanded.

The words choked out of her "Thirteen."

"To the ladies." Heather prodded.

Sarah turned. "I'm only thirteen years old." Sarah sobbed.

Heather beamed. She had reduced this woman to putty in her hands. But there remained in Heather's psyche a lingering doubt of her accomplishment. Something was missing. A sense of completion.

"And who am I?" Heather probed.

Sarah looked up into Heather's towering face. Too frightened and confused to disagree Sarah squeaked out. "My...aunt?"

"That's right. And I have punished you for your transgressions here tonight. And for Billy, for his mother and Mrs. Conroy. And all the other ladies you have inconvenienced in the past." Heather smiled. "But I have not punished you for my embarrassments."

Then as if a switch had been thrown; Sarah's mind snapped back into its proper place.

"What?!" Sarah yelled.

It was exactly the reaction Heather wanted. Sarah's indignation turned to pure terror as Heather squeezed Sarah's wrist and dragged her back over to the red leather chair. The buxom blond tugged the shapeless girl to her lap. The juxtaposition of Heather's developed body against Sarah's meager form was almost erotic. Sarah appeared even smaller now as she dug her heels into the carpet and pulled against Heather's grip. But her resistance was no match for Heather's strength and with a few quick moves Sarah was once again back over Heather's lap.


She let out a blood curdling scream as Heather slapped her bare bottom hard. Heather's breasts swayed with the rhythm of the spanking. Sarah twisted and screamed as she wriggled forward. She felt the promise of freedom but suddenly Heather took her right leg and swung it over Sarah's legs. This locked her into a position over Heather's left knee. Sarah was pinned and exposed in a very graphic way. Held high over Heather's knee Sarah was again looking up into the familiar mirror. She began to cry again. The pain and humiliation was bubbling and building inside her.

The three women watched objectively from the comfort of their chairs. The spanking continued. Martha who had been by the door was now seated next to Mrs. Conroy. It was a mistake. Sarah's unmuffled screams had caught the attention of a number of partygoers.

The door opened and Sarah felt her stomach drop ten stories. In the mirror standing in open mouthed shock was Don. She watched through her tears as his eyes wandered over her naked body. From his position he could see her bare privates perfectly framed by her bare bottom as Heather painted it a deep crimson red. The scene was surreal.

Heather was in heaven. It was as if she was spanking herself. The opportunity to deliver one's own troubled past into one's own disciplinarian hands. The added effect of being completely nude and in control of the entire room was mind blowing. She cocked her head into the mirror and locked eyes with Sarah then Don. Her spanking rhythm continued even as she played a sly smile to Don.

That smile hit Don hard. He had been focused on Sarah. Mesmerized as she bounced on the blond's knee. But when he realized the bombshell spanking Sarah was his own daughter he flipped. He was horrified. Sarah watched as he disappeared back through the door without a word. Martha sprung up, shut the door and locked it.

It was over and Sarah exploded into sobs. Heather knew she had to get out fast. She was not in fear of any reprisals but the sexual ache between her legs was tearing at her. She needed relief.

Heather released Sarah. Her hands jumped to her sore bottom and rubbed vigorously. It was a brief relief. Heather immediately stood and wrenched Sarah's ear lobe and marched her to the corner.

"Don't you move out of that corner!" Heather shouted.

It was the first time she had shouted and it caused all three women to stand. Heather slipped on her black lace bra and panties then pulled on her black velvet dress. She checked herself in the mirror and made a few adjustments.

"Ladies, I hope that was satisfactory. I hope that has, in some small way, paid a portion of the debt owed to you."

The women smiled broadly.

"I must go but I wondered if I might ask a favor from one of you. Perhaps more specifically Mrs. Smigen?"

Mrs. Smigen and Mrs. Conroy leaned in. Martha remained at the door.

"Yes?" Mrs. Smigen asked.

"Could you perhaps look after Heather for the night? I know it is a bit much to ask but based on the lack of supervision she receives at home from her father..." Heather stated.

"Well, I don't know." Mrs. Smigen wavered.

"I just don't think Heather should be unsupervised tonight. She has a habit of striking out after she has been punished. I should be able to pick her up tomorrow around three." Heather lied.

"It's only for one night Caroline." Mrs. Conroy admonished.

"Well. Alright. One night shouldn't be any trouble. And I may even have some of my daughters old things she can wear." Mrs. Smigen agreed.

"Excellent." Heather glanced at Sarah's naked form in the corner. Her pale pink skin highlighted in contrast to her red glowing bottom. "And of course perhaps a proper apology to Billy wouldn't hurt either. And if she does give you any trouble..."

Mrs. Smigen and Mrs. Conroy smiled. They said their goodbyes and watched the tall blond depart. Heather said her last goodbye to Martha just before she closed the door and locked it again.

Sarah had heard every word but did not object. She stood in the corner for a long time and sniffled. All the while the three women talked in low tones. She was sure Don would find her soon. This nightmare would end and she would wake in her own bed.

However, Don, too terrified to engage, had drunk two Jack and Sevens before he mustered the courage to storm the door. But by then it was too late. Sarah was already dressed in her white tights and red velvet dress. It had been a painful experience to redress, especially the tights. But now she was speeding towards the Smigen's home. Billy sat next to her in the back seat and flicked her pigtails for the eighth time. She firmly swiped his hand away. Sarah looked up into the rear view mirror and caught Mrs. Smigen staring at her.

"Mrs. Conroy loaned me her hairbrush."

Sarah's bottom tingled and she shifted uncomfortably again.

The End