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The following story is fiction and meant to be adult spanking erotica. It contains a spanking between an adult male and a minor girl. It contains oral sex. If you are under 18 or if you would find a story such as this upsetting I ask you to please stop reading now. A Typical Girl As she scrubs the front marble steps, twelve-year-old Zoey wonders if anyone can see the change. She looks like other girls her age, lifting up the heavy wet rag, twisting it, and watching the blue tinged water squish back into the bucket. She always enjoyed this job, outside, visible, playing with the water, useful, solitary, a job she can imagine being done by other little girls all over the city for the last one hundred years. Still, Zoey wonders how different she appears. Can anyone tell what she is thinking now? She loves him. She wants this one to stay. Her mother peers out the front door, cigarette dangling from her lips, and instructs her to wash the neighbor's steps too. The neighbor is old and cannot kneel. It's only right. Zoey moves her bucket over and stretches the hose toward Mrs. Miller's house. She wonders if her mother knows that last night during her spanking, there was more? If she did know, whom would she blame? Mrs. Miller's steps are gray under the dirt, from years of neglect. Zoey sprinkles the scouring powder, kneels and starts making the swirling patterns on the topmost step with the scrub brush, her bottom aching pleasantly under her short green summer shorts. Zoey is thinking about her bottom when Mrs. Miller opens her front door and interrupts, and tells her she is a good girl and is doing a wonderful job, such a help to her neighbors. Don't ever get old. Your mother is lucky to have you. Smile. The door closes again. Zoey glances toward the basement window, open now, the hose draped into her house, light shining down on the couch and the pool table. That was where she got strapped with his belt, she was laying across the pool table, her panties and shorts down. Zoey shivered at the memory. She had run to the basement last night, banished for her usual crime - her mouth. Zoey always said the wrong thing to her mother at the wrong time. Sometimes her mother would laugh at her; sometimes her mother would slap, and worse was when Zoey made her cry. During this fight between her mother and her mother's current boyfriend, Zoey was involved, defending him, trying to make sense, logic and peace. Her mother always chased them away and hurt them just when she was starting to love them. This time her mother was angry with her, a sharp slap. Zoey ran down to the basement to hide, her face still stinging. Here in the cool dim basement, she could pretend she did not live in this house, where the muffled yelling stressful sounds from upstairs could be explained away as belonging to someone else's family. He came down the stairs after things were quiet and sat next to her on the couch, arm around her. His foreign accent thick as he whispered in her ear that he loved her mother but she was difficult sometimes. He kissed her ear and then Zoey's hot teary cheek, and then gently kissed her lips. He said he felt like a father to her, loved her like his daughter, and was going to spank her because that is what her mother wanted him to do. A daughter must respect her mother. She has a lot on her and is a good person. This will make things better. Zoey moved to the pool table and leaned over it. He reached around her and tugged down her shorts and panties. He explained he wanted her mother to hear the slaps on the bare skin all the way upstairs in the kitchen where she was drinking her tea. He removed his belt, folded it in half, and slapped it a few times on his hand - and Zoey thought about little girls everywhere, being spanked by their daddies, with a belt. As the first smack came down, she swallowed a groan. Her fingers tensed. He moved her legs apart with his foot until her shorts stretched out taunt. He continued with the spanking, the belt licking and smacking under her cheeks, across them, smacking in between and causing her to finally scream and yell. His hand moved between her legs and tickled her, a finger gently moving in and out of her. She was wet and slippery there "Do you like this Zoey? It seems to me you might." He cleared his throat and stepped back and continued with the belt. This time harder then the last set. She moved her bottom around trying to control where the smacks might land. When he paused this time he leaned his body against her bottom and she felt his erection straining at his jeans. He enjoyed spanking her, and she enjoyed it. She loved him and he loved her. His fingers slid inside her again and she lifted up and moaned almost near orgasm. He backed away and spanked another set of slaps on her now upturned and reddening cheeks. This time when he reached to touch her there, she shuddered in orgasm onto his fingers. He sat down on the couch, the spanking over and she hugged him gratefully, her shorts still down. He kissed her again, on her ear, then her cheek, then her lips. This time her mouth opened and his tongue slid inside. He petted her hair as she hugged him close. He told her that her mother no longer made love to him, she was always so angry, so cold and he felt alone sometimes. He loved her mother but sometimes he wondered if she loved him. He might have to leave. Zoey unbuckled his pants and she kneeled on the basement floor between his legs her bottom still bare and red. She loved him. She didn't want him to leave. She took his cock in her mouth and sucked, his arms came down and his hands squeezed her shoulders half stopping her, half holding on to her. She let her fingers slide around the head and sucked both her fingers and his cock into her mouth. She enjoyed how he twitched and the way he let out a low groan. She removed her wet fingers from her mouth and they tickled their way down to his balls. She slid her mouth down onto him as far as she could, the slimy spit from the back of her throat coating him. As she rose back up, popping off the head with a loud slurp, her hand now held him firmly in her fist. She smiled at him. She went to work for what she wanted. She wanted her mouth on him as he came. As she drank him down his fingers tightened on her shoulders and a shiver went through her. She loved him. She wanted him to stay. She felt a smack to her bottom and turned around. He was home from work and Zoey had been steady scrubbing Mrs. Miller’s front steps, lost in her dreams. He smiled at her, walked into the house, her mother was in a good mood today, and she had even made them all a nice dinner. Zoey was a good girl; she had done her part to keep her family together... like other little girls all over the city, perhaps.
© 2001by zprymantis@smilingwithteeth.com, not to be reposted or distributed without permission
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