Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 22

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 22
by Chadlad

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *

Chapter 22: Shirley You Jest

She hadn't been Mrs. Raphael then, of course. She'd been little Shirley, just 9 years old, visiting her aunt and her slightly younger cousin Jeremy for the weekend while her parents went on what they called a "Second Honeymoon." Despite worrying that she'd miss her parents, Shirley had been excited about visiting her cousin. As an only child living far from the city, she had few playmates except at school and rarely saw relatives at all. She'd had all sorts of expectations of what her visit would be like. Maybe Jeremy would play house with her, and she could be the mommy and he the daddy and she'd feed him a pretend dinner while he talked about his day at work. Or maybe he had a tree house, where they could sit and look out at the yards below – she'd always wanted a tree house, but her parents were afraid she'd fall from it. Maybe they'd play ball in the street, like kids were always doing in books.

The reality was hugely disappointing. When she arrived Friday night, her aunt had been very sweet and friendly, but Jeremy had merely said "Hello, Shirley" in a sullen voice when introduced to her, then gone off to the living room to listen to his western serial on the radio. He refused to talk to her, even during the commercials, and after it was over, he'd gone to his room and shut the door, effectively blocking her out. Tired and discouraged, she'd climbed into her temporary bed on her aunt's couch, hoping that he'd be more friendly in the morning. But he'd remained in bed the next morning, refusing to come out until his mother had threatened to pour water on him, than sat at the table chewing sullenly and refusing to answer her questions about his toys, the neighborhood, or what they could do that day.

After breakfast, Shirley's Aunt Matilda had suggested they all go shopping at the downtown Woolworth, where they had all sorts of interesting things, including new rag dolls and bags of shiny marbles, and even penny candy of an astounding number of types. Shirley had been wide-eyed with delight the whole time, enjoying just looking at all those wondrous things. But for some reason Jeremy had been sulky and unhappy, refusing to look at the boxes of tin soldiers and the wooden trains that usually excited him. "I want penny candy, ma," he'd insisted. "Come on, you said I could have some penny candy."

"I suppose a little won't hurt you children," his mother had said. She reached into her purse. "Here, you can each have a nickel," she said, offering the two coins. "That means you can get 5 whole pieces apiece."

Shirley had been thrilled, but Jeremy's face hand clouded. "It's not fair," he protested. "It's not fair! You usually give me a dime! I shouldn't have to share my dime with a dumb old girl!"

"Why Jeremy Arthur Whitt!" his mother had exclaimed. "That's no way to talk in front of your cousin! She came all the way in from the countryside to visit with us!"

"Well, I didn't want her!" Jeremy said petulantly. "When you said my cousin was coming to play, I though you meant a boy, like Jeffrey or Floyd! Why did she have to come. She's just a dumb old girl! And now you're giving her my nickel!"

Shirley felt like crying, kind of sad and angry at the same time. Why didn't Jeremy like her? And what did he mean, that she was just a dumb old girl? Girls weren't dumb!

Seeing Shirley's stricken look and the stares of disapproving shoppers nearby, Shirley's Aunt Matilda had colored in anger and embarrassment. People were looking at them – she needed to do something now! She leaned down and looked him in the eye. "That's no way to talk to our guest," she said. "Apologize to your cousin this instant!"

"I won't!" he said. "I won't 'pologize! She ruined everything! Why'd she have to be a dumb old girl?" he said stubbornly, looking at Shirley with clear distaste.

"I've a good mind to take that nickel away again, young man!" his mother said. "I don't believe you deserve any candy!"

"NO!" Jeremy said, snatching his hand away, the nickel clutched in it. He turned and ran up the aisle, bumping into a pyramid of boxes of soap powder as he passed it. The boxes toppled with a loud crash, making everyone else in the crowded store suddenly turn and stare at them. Shirley's aunt had flushed a dark red.

"I'm so sorry," she'd said to everyone in sight, picking up boxes, trying to help the clerk who was restacking the pile and assuring her no harm had been done while the matrons who'd witnessed the whole debacle clucked in disapproval around them. She looked past the boxes, trying to see where Jeremy had gone. "I don't know what's gotten into him," she said to a thin, steely-eyed older woman who was looking at her disapprovingly.

"I swear, I don't understand you young folks and your modern parenting," the matron said, shaking her head. "Why, if that had been my Morty back in the day, I'd have warmed his heinie up good and proper right here in the store, don't think I wouldn't have!"

A second elderly woman sidled up beside her. "Quite right, quite right, Eunice," she said loudly. "These young mothers, they don't use discipline! Why, I once practically wore my Danny out with a wooden shingle when he didn't act a tenth that rudely! I bent him right over the stump out back and gave it to him on the bare, I did! He minded his p's and q's after that, you'd better believe! I still remember him dancing around the yard afterward rubbing himself and screeching to beat the band! It brought all the neighbor kids out, and him without his pants on!" She chuckled to herself at the image.

"Mark my words, that boy's headed for trouble," the first woman said in return. "If you care about his future, you'll round him up and take him home for a good britches dusting this instant!" she added.

"Perhaps I shall," Shirely's aunt said, still blushing. She looked at the floor. "Yes, perhaps I shall. Just as soon as I get him home." She poked in her pocketbook and retrieved another nickel and handed it to Shirley. "Get your candy, sweetheart," she said. "Jeremy won't be using his, so you can have his share. "I'll find him and bring him back here to apologize," she said. "And you can rest assured he'll pay for it when we get home!" she added to the watching biddies.

Shirley's heart had begun racing with excitement. Her nasty little boy cousin was going to get a spanking when they got home! Maybe even a bare-bottom spanking! She'd never seen a boy get a spanking before! She'd never even seen a boy's bare bottom! As an only child, she'd had little contact with other children at all except at school, where the boys and the girls played in distinctly separate groups and seldom interacted. She knew about spankings. She'd seen kids, mostly boys, get spanked at school. School spankings usually were given immediately, and consisted of a few open- handed slaps on the seat of the pants as they stood that raised clouds of dust but had little effect on the boys receiving them except a bit of flushing of the face. Still, they were exciting to watch.

She'd also been on the receiving end of a few spankings at home, which were and entirely different affair as well as quite a lot more painful. All the spankings she'd received had involved being told she'd gone to far and was going to be spanked, followed by a lecture from her mother on her misbehavior and a caution that any attempt to get away or resist the spanking would be dealt with by an additional spanking after the first one. Her mother would then grasp Shirley's middle and hoist her over her lap, flipping her dress up and then applying at 10 stinging slaps to her panty-clad bottom that always stung like the dickens and made her cry. The year before, Shirley had always received 9 spanks each time, or as her mother liked to say, "one for each year and one as a reminder." But now that she was 9 and the total had been increased, it seemed like that 10th spank hurt more than all the others. (There was a good reason for this, which Shirley was not privy to – her mother had been discussing spanking their children with her childhood friend, Mrs. Weiss, and Mrs. Weiss had suggested the value of centering the last spank in the middle of the child's bottom, "so that it stings the whole area and wakes up where they've already gotten it," as well as making that spank harder to emphasize the lesson.)

Those spankings had always been conducted in the privacy of her room, and Shirley would be left on her bed to cry into her pillow afterward until she'd cried herself out, after which she'd venture, shamefaced and subdued, back into the living room where her mother would greet her as if nothing at all had happened.

But just the month before, Shirley's mother had become exasperated with when she ignored her mother when she said to go take out the garbage and instead continued to play with her dolls on the living room floor. She'd stalked over and yanked Shirley to her feet, announcing that a girl as bad as her obviously needed more serious correction, and that from now on all spankings would be on the bare bottom. Before Shirley could protest or escape, her mother had yanked up her dress, ordering Shirley to hold it up above her belly button unless she wanted two spankings! Shocked, Shirley had awkwardly done as she was told, lifting her dress until her bare midriff and dingy white panties were exposed on all sides. Her mother had then slowly and deliberately lowered Shirley's panties and ordered her to step out of them, leaving them on the floor and exposing her bum to her father, who'd been, as usual for that time of day, reading the evening paper in his chair behind her. Her mother had then taken her across her lap as usual, applying the normal 10 spanks to Shirley's now bare posterior as she kicked and squealed and flushed with both pain and embarrassment. In addition to the fact that this bare-bottom spanking had hurt much more than underpants spanking, her mother's firm hand stinging something fierce when applied to her soft, bare skin, there had been the knowledge that her father was sitting right there, watching.

Shirley was used to her mother seeing her private areas. After all, her mother was the one who prepared the big bathtub in the middle of the floor every Saturday by filling it with hot water, then undressing Shirley and leaning over the side of the tub to scrub the girl clean. She would unselfconsciously get on all fours so her mother could wash her doo-doo place, and sit contentedly with legs spread so her mother could wash what she called her "butterfly," the place where pee-pee came out and there was a mysterious little tunnel into her body. No, her mother saw her completely naked then, so seeing her naked bottom in this situation wasn't that big a deal. What had made the spanking embarrassing was that it had been administered in the living room just before bedtime, and her father had witnessed it, putting his newspaper down in his lap and nodding approvingly at the discipline his wife was applying to his daughter's bare fanny. After her spanking, the loudly bawling Shirley had been set on her shaky legs directly in front of her father, still ordered to hold her dress up to "display the marks of her shame to everyone," her lower half completely bare. She had no choice but to face him, then, letting him see her butterfly as clearly as he had seen her bottom while she'd been spanked. Her father had then pulled her close and hugged her, running his hands over her bumpy, glowing red posterior as he admonished her to behave herself in the future unless she wanted her mom to give her an even bigger spanking, and warning her that all her spankings from then one would be in the living room in front of him. Shirley had taken that advice to heart, and as a result had not received a spanking since that bare bottomed adventure.

But even if he didn't get it on his bare bottom, the prospect of seeing her boy cousin Jeremy receive a spanking was an exciting one. For starters, she had decided she didn't really like Jeremy that much. He had more or less ignored her since she had arrived, replying to her questions in monosyllables and refusing to play anything she wanted to play. It would be very satisfying to see him in the bottom up position, crying as helplessly as she did when she was spanked. That's what she was hoping for – a real spanking, with him having to get over his mother's lap and lie there, face down and humiliated, while she "tanned his hide," as her mother sometimes put it. She wanted to see Jeremy's face as he realized that he was moments from being spanked, and watch his distress grow as he was hoisted over the maternal lap, his bottom the center of attention in the room, bent prominently over the maternal knee. She longed to see what his face would look like as he awaited the first stinging slap on his little-boy bottom. What expression would he have on his face as he waited for he fanny to suddenly awaken to the first of what would be many stinging slaps? How long would he go before he began to cry, and would he cry as hard as she did? And how would he feel after his spanking ended, and, with his bottom still stinging, he had to stand and face his cousin, knowing she had just watched him be totally humiliated?

Yes, it would be satisfying to see Jeremy get spanked, even if he didn't receive it on the bare bottom. But she hoped with all her heart that his mother did follow through on her threat to pulled down his pants and maybe even his underpants, and she had several reasons for that wish. First, getting spanked on the bare would hurt his heinie more, and she wanted him to hurt after he'd ignored her and called her a "dumb old girl" in front of everyone. But mostly, she wanted to see Jeremy get a bare-bottomed spanking because of the great mystery concerning just what boys had in their pants.

Shirley had gathered from various sources that boys were different than girls down there. Oh, not in back. There they had bottoms just like girls did, and they went doo-doo out of them just like girls, too, she supposed. But they were somehow different in the front, with different anatomy entirely than her own neat little furrow. She had herself observed by surreptitious glances at opportune times that males' pants tended to bulge outward over their crotches rather than tapering in smoothly like girls did, so that there must indeed be something mysterious attached there, something that pushed their pants out. She'd seen that the bulges were different sizes, too. In general, grown men and teenage boys bulged out quite prominently whereas little boys like Jeremy himself showed only small bulges. Yet the sizes of the bulges varied even in boys her age, and sometimes the bulge varied in size on the same boy at different times. Why, just the week before Stanley Overstreet had sported a bulge that stuck out almost like a little tent when he'd been called to the blackboard to do a math problem, yet just a few minutes later, when he came back after finishing his problem and being excused to go to the boys' room, his bulge had become small and almost unnoticeable. So something had to be there on boys, something mysterious that girls didn't have, and that changed size now and then.

The mystery had been increased recently when she overheard one of the girls who went to Sunday school confide to another that her little brother had run naked into the yard when her mother had been distracted changing him, and that "everyone could see his little pee-pee flopping around." The two girls had exchanged wicked grins and giggled in shared knowledge, whereas the comment had only intensified Shirley's confusion. She knew what pee-pee was, of course – she had to go pee-pee herself, and so did dogs and cats and cows and horses, so it made sense boys did, too. But the girl had talked about her brother having a pee –pee—one that flopped around as he ran.

Too shy to ask the girl about it, she had pondered this information many different nights while waiting to go to sleep. So boys had a thing that flopped around when they ran and bulged out the front of their pants and changes in size some times, and that thing was called a "pee-pee." But she found the whole idea hard to picture. Was it a lump like a rubber ball? Or something else?

Please, God, she thought to herself. Please let him get a spanking on the bare bottom! In front of her! And if it wasn't too much to ask, please have Aunt Matilda take his pants off first, so that she could see what boys had in there once and for all!

She eagerly chose 10 pieces of penny candy and paid for them at the counter. As the shop owner handed her the small bag, her aunt came stomping back into the room, dragging Jeremy by the arm. She shoved him in front of Shirley and the shop owner. "Now I want you to apologize to this nice shop owner and your cousin for your behavior," she ordered. Jeremy crossed his arms in front of him and stuck out his lower lip, looking at them defiantly. Shirley glared back at him. "Go ahead, apologize," his mother said. Jeremy glared harder. At least 30 seconds dragged by. Shirley's aunt began to lose patience. "I'm going to count to 10," she said. "And if you haven't started to apologize by then, you're getting a big spanking when we get home! I mean it!" Jeremy thrust his lip out further and looked even more defiant. His mother began counting slowly in the background. "1, 2, 3, 4... I mean, it, Jeremy! You apologize this instant, or I swear I will spank your little bottom when I get home!" Jeremy continued to glare. "... 5, 6, 7... I'm not bluffing, young man! If you don't apologize, you're getting the biggest spanking of your life! I'll even do it on the bare!" Jeremy glared back, hugging himself more tightly. "...8, 9, ...I'm not kidding --- I'll spank your bare heinie, don't think I won't," his mother said. Jeremy stuck out his tongue at Shirley. "...10!" His mother said. "That's it, we're going home to give you your spanking!" she said. Angrily, she seized him firmly by the upper arm and began dragging him out the door, keenly aware of her defeat by her son in front of the staring customers. "I'm sorry," she said to the shopkeeper, as she dragged a struggling Jeremy out the door. "And I'll make him sorry, too. Come along Shirley."

Shirley had skipped to the car behind her aunt and her struggling cousin. The latter had been summarily deposited in the back seat, and the door slammed, as Shirley had daintily and cheerfully climbed into the front seat. Jeremy had stretched out on the back seat, staring at the ceiling and refusing to look at them. Her aunt, glaring in every direction, had swiftly driven the old Ford coupe away, winding through the streets back to her residential household. Shirley was bubbling with excitement. Jeremy was gonna get a spanking! Maybe even a bare-bottomed spanking! She hoped it would happen as soon as they went in the door! And she'd watch, because even if her Aunt sent her away, or took Jeremy to his room, she'd sneak in to where she could see!

Her aunt drove along without speaking, occasionally glaring into the mirror at her son. Finally Shirley could not stand the suspense any longer. "Are you really gonna spank Jeremy when we get home?" She asked eagerly. "On the bare bottom? Can I watch?" Her aunt didn't answer her directly, instead looking into the rear-view mirror, where the still reclining, recalcitrant Jeremy couldn't be seen.

"If you don't apologize to me and your cousin, and promise to be a better boy in the future, I will spank you when we get home, I swear!" His mother added after another minute. "Maybe even on the bare! So you've got a decision to make. You can keep sulking and feeling sorry for yourself and earn yourself a spanking when we get home, or you can straighten up and apologize and be nice to your cousin and maybe not get a spanking. It's your decision."

I hope he decides to take the spanking, Shirley thought to herself. She didn't need any old apologies from any stupid boy cousins. The trio rode along in silence the rest of the way home, Shirley's aunt showing her disapproval by sniffing periodically and looking daggers in the rearview mirror, Jeremy responding by continuing to lie across the back seat and look at the ceiling. Shirley turned around and got on her knees so she could look over the back seat at him. He glared as he caught sight of her, sticking out his tongue at her and then looking pointedly away, as if she was beneath his attention.

"Jeremy stuck his tongue out at me!" she said, turning indignantly to her aunt.

"Sit down, dear," Aunt Matilda said. "You might hit your head if I had to stop suddenly." She glared into the rear view mirror at the empty space above her son. "Keep it up, young man, and I really will spank you, I swear I will! I don't care if your cousin's visiting, I'll do it!" Jeremy remained silent.

Good! thought Shirley. He could just keep acting that way! She was going to see a boy get spanked! She could hardly contain herself. They pulled into the driveway and Shirley's aunt shut off the engine. Shirley opened the door and reached for her penny candy bag. Her aunt was setting the parking brake and gathering her shawl. "Are you going to spank Jeremy right away?" Shirley asked hopefully. "As soon as we get inside?" Her aunt got out and glared at Jeremy still lying on his back, staring at the ceiling in the back seat.

"I just might," she snapped, opening the back door. "Get out of the car, young man! I've never been so ashamed of you in my life!" Jeremy remained frozen, staring at the ceiling. "I mean it – I will spank your bare bottom, I swear, if you don't apologize!" She turned from the door, then looked up as she noticed something moving out of the corner of her eye and let out a little gasp. Shirley turned to look, spying a large red rooster and several hens pecking at the lawn.

"Oh, dear," her aunt said. "The hens are out of the pen again! Jeremy, you and Shirley get them rounded up and put them back. And make sure they have food and water." Jeremy sat up, smirking at how easily his mother was diverted from her worries about his misbehavior. He'd smiled too soon, though. Seeing his smirk, his mother added, "then you so straight to your room young man, and decide whether you want to apologize or take the consequences!"

"You said you were going to spank him, Aunt Matilda," Shirley said helpfully. "You said you were going to do it on his bare bottom!"

"Did I?" Jeremy's mother said. "Well, we'll see. If he doesn't apologize fairly quickly, maybe I will." She headed into the house. Jeremy shut the car door and began slowly herding chickens back to the pen. Shirley began helping him, raising her arms and making little lunges at them. Together they edged the chickens toward the back yard.

"Your ma's gonna spank you!" Shirley said gleefully, driving an errant hen toward Jeremy. "Maybe even on your bare bum! And I'm gonna watch! I'll see your -- I'll see everything!" she added, stopping herself before she said "pee-pee" because she wasn't sure that was the right thing to say.

Jeremy looked at her scornfully. "She won't spank me," he said. "She's always saying that. But she won't. I'll go to my room and she'll forget all about it in a little while. She always does – I've never gotten a spanking!" He looked at her with a superior air. "Well, almost never. She spanked me once when I was little, but she doesn't do it any more! I'm too tough for her, so she gave up." A smirk came over his face and he looked at her knowingly. "I bet you get spanked, though! I bet your ma spanks you good and proper! Probably bare! She probably spanks you all the time!" His eyes searched her face, suddenly gleaming.

Shirley blushed, remembering her most recent, bare-bottomed session over her mother's lap as her father looked on, and the promise of longer and harder bare-bottomed spankings in front of him in the future. "No," she lied.

"She does too," Jeremy said confidently, noting her hesitant reaction and her red face. "I bet she spanks you on your bare po-po! I bet you get it all the time! But my ma won't spank me. I get away with all kinds of stuff." He smirked at her nastily. "Maybe next summer I'll come visit you, and get you into trouble like you did me. Only your ma will spank you, and I'll get to see your bare heinie! And your girl stuff, too!" He strutted to the faucet on the side of the house and filled a watering pan, then another.

Shirley wasn't altogether sure what a po-po was. She suspected it was another word for her bottom, like heinie, but she wasn't sure. Perhaps he meant some more specific part of that general region, like the crack between her buns, or her do-do place. It had to be somewhere in the general spanking region. Her hopes of seeing her cousin get a spanking had fallen as he'd talked, though – so his mother never spanked him, despite what she said? Disappointment filled her as she watched Jeremy dig into a feed sack and dump ground corn into the feeding pans. Suddenly a possibility came to her, raising her hopes of seeing a boy get spanked. Jeremy had said that he didn't get spanked because Aunt Matilda always forgot to spank him. Well, she'd fix him – she'd make sure his mother didn't forget to spank him this time!

The two of them went into the house, Jeremy going off to his room where he could be seen through a crack in the door playing with tin soldiers, humming as he set them up in complex battle arrays. Shirley went looking for her aunt. She found her busily rolling out pie crust, the table covered with flour. "You're just in time to help me peel the apples," she said pleasantly to Shirley.

"You were going to spank Jeremy right away when we got home if he didn't apologize, remember?" Shirley said immediately. "Well, he didn't apologize!"

"Not right now, dear," her aunt replied. "We have to get this in the oven if it's going to be ready for dinner."

Shirley's face fell. "But he hasn't apologized – he said he'd never apologize. And you promised that if he didn't you'd spank him! You promised!"

"I did promise him I'd give him a good spanking, didn't I," her aunt said distractedly. "Well, I can't deal with that right now – I have to get this pie in the oven."

"Okay," Shirley said. "But don't forget when we're done to give Jeremy his spanking!"

Jeremy remained strategically out of sight as the two of them worked on turning out two apple pies, rolling out crusts, peeling and slicing apples, and dumping on sugar and cinnamon. Finally, the pies in the oven and the table cleared, Shirley's aunt had said, "All right, dear, now we can go into the living room for awhile while they bake."

"Aren't you going to spank Jeremy now?" Shirley asked hopefully, bouncing from one foot to the other. "He hasn't apologized, you know," she added.

Her aunt looked thoughtful. "I suppose I'd better do something now," she said. "I can't let him just get away with this." They passed through the kitchen door into the living room. "Jeremy, are you ready to apologize now?" she called. The door to Jeremy's room remained closed.

"See, he's not 'pologizing," Shirley said. "So I guess you have to spank him!"

Shirley's aunt opened her mouth, but what she was going to say Shirley never knew, because just then the small, black upright telephone on the end table began ringing shrilly, two short rings and then a long one. "Two shorts and a long, that's us!" her aunt sang out. She raced over to the black phone and picked it up, lifting the earpiece and holding the body in her hand while speaking into the mouthpiece. Shirley understood immediately, as a rural dweller whose parents also had a party line. Different people on the line had different rings, and the ring pattern denoted who should answer the phone. So her aunt must be two short rings and one long one. Of course, Shirley's mother sometimes picked up the earpiece and listened when the phone hadn't rung her ring at all, and Shirley knew better than to make any noise when her mother was "listening in." Some of the best neighborhood gossip was obtained that way, anyway, and her mother invariably shared it with all of them.

"Hello?" Aunt Matilda said into the phone. "Oh, it's you, Edith! No, nothing – I just put some pies in the oven. Yes, of course I have time to chat. You're kidding! No, go ahead and tell me all about it!" She settled on the couch, intent on her conversation. Shirley, eager for Jeremy to get spanked, stood waiting. After several minutes, when it became clear her aunt wasn't getting off the phone any time soon, she drifted down the hall to Jeremy's door. To her surprise, it was open now, so she peeked around the door jamb cautiously. Scanning the room quickly, she was disappointed to see it was empty. Where was Jeremy?

The loud flush of a toilet in the bathroom across the hall answered that question. The door opened and Jeremy slipped out immediately, sneering when he saw her and then ducking past her and reaching to shut the door. She put a hand on it to stop him. "You didn't wash your hands," she said accusingly.

"Didn't have to," Jeremy said. "I wasn't doing a dookie, so I didn't touch anything, so I didn't have to wash." He tried to shut the door, impossible with Shirley leaning on it.

"But you had to wipe yourself," Shirley insisted. "Even if you just went pee-pee, you had to wipe yourself. So you must have touched something – you should have washed your hands. I always wash my hands," she added, looking superior.

"Don't you know anything?" Jeremy said, looking just as superior. "Boys don't have to wipe themselves unless they make a dookie! We just shake it off and we're done! That's why boys are better than girls." He gave her a shove, trying to catch her off balance and close the door, but she shoved back, harder.

"Shake what?" she asked, intrigued. She gulped, building up her courage to say it. "What do you shake? Your little pee-pee?" The last part she said so quietly that it came out as a whisper.

Jeremy flushed with apparent anger. "It's not so little," he hissed. He glared at her, his hands on his hips. "You don't know nothin'," he said. "You're just a dumb old girl! Mine's bigger than any of my friends! He gave her a bigger shove. "It's bigger than Floyd's! And Wilbur's! And Robert's!" He gave her a shove as he named each name, finally succeeding in clearing her from the doorway, which he immediately slammed shut.

Shirley twisted on the door knob, but found Jeremy was holding it from the other side, so it wouldn't turn. "Let me come in and play," she said to the door. The only sound in reply was her aunt talking merrily on the telephone. "Fine," Shirley said. "I'll go play by myself. But you have to come out soon – your ma's gonna spank you!"

"She won't," Jeremy's muffled voice said from the other side of the door. "She's afraid to, 'cause she knows I won't cry even if she does! 'Cause I'm too tough! And then she'd look stupid."

Shirley thought how much her bare-bottomed spanking had hurt. "You will too cry," she said through the door. " 'Cause she'd gonna spank you on your bare heinie, and that hurts a lot!"

"I won't," Jeremy replied through the door. "I'm not a crybaby like a stupid old girl!"

Shirley, now angry herself, stomped off. He'd cry all right – she'd make sure his mother spanked him until he'd cried his eyes out. She stalked back to the living room, determined to make sure Jeremy got what he had coming.

But Shirley's aunt was still on the phone. Shirley stood in front of her, hopping from one foot to the other in consternation, until her aunt finally lowered the mouthpiece a moment and said, "What is it, Shirley!"

"Jeremy said..." Shirley began, but her aunt cut her off. "I can't deal with Jeremy right now," she said. "Why don't you go play with the button boxes? I keep them in that closet."

Shirley brightened. In those days, everyone had a button box, full of all kinds of buttons that they'd gotten off of long forgotten clothing or had purchased for forgotten projects. She loved her mother's button collection, some of which were plain but most of which were extremely ornate and elaborate. She'd sort them by color and shape, and choose her current favorites from the set. She dashed off to the indicated closet, opening the door and finding a pair of cigar boxes each filled to the brim with buttons. She settled on the floor behind the couch with them, opening the lid and gazing on the contents, then beginning to remove buttons and arrange them on the floor. Soon she had forgotten all about the mysterious contents of boys' pants and watching her cousin get spanked. She didn't think about it again until she looked up and discovered her aunt squatting beside her, gazing fondly at Shirley's rows of buttons. "I just took the pies out, " she said. "We should probably have lunch soon. Would you go knock on Jeremy's door and tell him it's time to wash up for lunch?"

The mention of Jeremy ignited Shirley's memory. She shot to her feet. "Isn't it time for Jeremy to get his spankin'?" she asked her aunt. "It's been hours already!

Her aunt looked at her distractedly. "What?" she asked. "Jeremy's spankin'!" Shirley said more insistently. "You said you'd give him his spankin' when he got home! On his bare bottom!" Her aunt looked at her blankly. "For being bad all morning." Shirley added. "Remember? You said you'd spank his bare bottom!" She was hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. Her aunt pursed her lips and smiled wanly.

"Oh, I don't think he really needs a spanking," his mother said, turning toward the kitchen. "I imagine he's learned his lesson."

Shirley's face fell. "That's what he said you'd say," she said, pouting a little. "He said spankin's are for girls, and that you never spank him."

Her aunt put down the magazine, looking at her more attentively. "Jeremy said that?" she asked. "What else did he say?"

Shirley went on excitedly, loving to tattle on this boy she was coming to dislike intensely. "He said he gets away with everything! He said that you're afraid to spank him, because he's too tough and would never cry, and then you'd just look silly. And he said that he'd come visit me, and get me in trouble so I'd get a spankin', and he said he'd get to see my po-po then!" She looked at her aunt quizzically. "What's a po-po?" she asked.

"Your po-po is just your bottom, dear," her aunt said distractedly. "So he said he gets away with anything, and that I'm afraid to spank him?" She looked thoughtful. "Perhaps I've been too lax, lately." She stared into space. "You know," she said to Shirley, "I can't remember when I last spanked him. Maybe he's gotten too big for his britches and needs to be taken down a peg or two!"

"Well, I think you ought to spank him! On his bare bottom! He called me a dumb ol' girl!" Shirley insisted. "And can you make him take his pants down? I wanna see!"

"You want to see?" her aunt said. "See what? See him get spanked, or see him with his pants down?"

"Both," Shirley said decisively. "Well, mostly the spankin'. But I want to see him with his pants down, too!"

"Come now, dear," her aunt said, smiling. "You must have seen lots of little boys with their pants down before. Jeremy doesn't look any different down there than them."

"Never," Shirley said. "I never get to see them! Please, please let me see!"

"You've never seen what makes boys boys?" her aunt said, sounding surprised. "Really? That's surprising. But, I suppose since you're an only child..." She trailed off, thinking. "I've never felt little boys should have secrets from little girls, you know. It's important that a girl know what's what! And perhaps I do need to spank him! The nerve of him, saying that I couldn't make him cry! And acting up like that with all those women watching!"

She stared at Jeremy's door. "So I can't make you cry, young man?" she said under her breath. "We'll just see about that!"

She walked to the hall and knocked on Jeremy's door.

"Oh, Jeremy," his mother said sweetly. "Come here, sweety. It's almost lunch time."

The door opened and Jeremy walked out past them. "Good, I'm hungry," he said to his mother heading toward the living room as she followed right behind him. "What are we having?"

"You're gonna get a spankin!" Shirley burst out. Jeremy's froze, but his reflexes were quick. He jumped, turned and started to dash for the kitchen and the outside door to be found there, aiming to disappear until this all blew over. Unfortunately for him, his mother was quick, too, reaching out and snagging an outstretched arm before he had gone three feet. She dragged him, scrabbling and trying to tug himself loose, back toward the couch.

"Noooooo! I don't want a spankin'!" Jeremy wailed. He caught sight of Shirley, grinning from ear to ear as his mother sat down, dragging him to stand in front of her. "Not in front of her! She's a girl!" he wailed.

"She's a girl you should have apologized to when you had the chance," his mother said. "Now it's too late!" She grabbed him with both hands and pulled him to her, an easy task because he was reasonably small for a 9-year-old. Jeremy continued to struggle.

"Hold still and stop fighting me," his mother said. "Or I'll make your spanking longer and harder!" Jeremy continued struggling.

"But she'll seeee meeee!" he wailed indignantly.

"So?" his mother snapped back, still wrestling with him. "What's the big deal? It's not like you've got anything much there, anyway? You're just a little boy – a little boy who's gotten too big for his britches! She glared at him angrily as the two struggled. "So you go around telling people I never spank you, huh? You tell them you can get away with anything! You think I can't make you cry! We'll see about that!"

Shirley was dancing with glee, her heart pounding with excitement. She was gonna see a boy get spanked! A real boy! A real, naked boy! She could hardly wait!