"This smells like vomit."

I had never been in the back of a police car before. Besides being embarrassing, it smells awful! The cop wouldn't listen to any of my complaints about the car. He ignored the reasons for my 'crime,' and the reasons why I think I'm really innocent. The store didn't let me keep the clothes even though I promised to pay for them later.

Mom is going to kill me.

"I don't know what to do with you. Your friends will be in high school and you're still in eighth grade. Just because you think you know it all. And,..."

I interrupted, "I'll be in ninth grade second semester. I'll have enough credits by then. So,..."

She interrupted me again, "The point is, Susan, you're screwing up at school. You wouldn't get up for summer school. You tried three different part-time jobs this summer and didn't keep any of them. And today really tops it all - the police bringing you home from the mall. You are ..."

"But, Mom, All those jobs were stupid. Summer school is too hot and boring, and too early. And I wouldn't have to steal stuff if you gave me enough money to get the clothes like my friends." I shouldn't have said that. As soon as I'd said it, I knew I was doomed.

Mom didn't say anything. That's how mad she was. Instead she went over to the wall phone in the kitchen, giving me a 'go-to-your-room' look. I knew better than to stick around, so I headed up to my room.

Two hours later she came into my room. Oh boy. I regretted saying those things about money, school, my jobs - my big mouth! Now what? Mom never came into my room. Trouble. This will be trouble.

"Go wait in the living room. I'm going to pack some things for you."

"Where am I going? There is a Party Friday. I have to be back for that."

She didn't answer. When she didn't answer, I knew she was mad. Mad and determined. Still, I waited in the door as she laid our medium size suitcase on my bed.

Mom looked at me. "You will be gone two weeks. You will be back right before school starts. You have to learn some manners. You have no choice in this. Go downstairs and wait. We are leaving in twenty minutes. I will pack for you. Go." She hadn't even raised voice, another danger signal.

I went downstairs and waited, afraid of what she might find while getting clothes out of my drawers or closet.

She came downstairs about fifteen minutes later carrying the suitcase. She handed it to me and walked deliberately towards the front door. I didn't know if this meant she found anything or not. She was way beyond her usual level of anger with me.

I followed her out to the car. After what seemed like an hour of silence in the car, I said, "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Wait."

We drove an hour or so and I was going crazy. Crazy with suspense and crazy with wanting to find a bathroom. I didn't recognize anything around us. We were on a small road with an occasional small town. None of them looked familiar. None of them even sounded familiar. We went past a high school which looked smaller than my junior high. Good grief. How could anybody stand to go there?

"Here we are." Mom's words woke me from my reverie. We were driving up a long gravel driveway. There were sheep in a field on our right. I guessed it was corn on our left, but I wasn't sure.

"You're going to get a spanking, Susan."

I didn't know what to say. She didn't sound like she was kidding. She didn't say anything else as we continued up the driveway, between occasional trees. There were two or three strands of barbed wire between the bent posts, wherever the fence was broken down along the right side of the driveway. Where in the world were we? What did she mean I would be getting a spanking?

We pulled up in front of a large wood and stucco house which looked like those in eighteenth century England. A German Shepherd was barking his head off. Two barefoot boys came running out to meet us. They looked to be about ten and twelve and were dressed in jeans and T-shirts. "Hillbillies." I said, under my breath.

Mom must have heard me because she said - her voice still controlled, "Be nice to everyone. Or else."

We got out of the car while the older boy held the dog by his side. It was almost sundown. Going up the wooden steps onto the covered porch gave me the feeling of going back in time. A stout woman came to the door. Surprisingly, she was well dressed. I was also surprised by the antique furnishings. The inside of this house looked even older than the outside.

The boys came in with us. The older one now seemed older than I had first thought. He was almost my age - fourteen. If he wasn't so chubby, he might have been cute. He was looking at me with a stupid grin. I guessed him at five feet even, about two inches shorter than me. Thick glasses hung on his narrow nose.

The five of us stood in a circle inside the door, near an old fashioned coat rack. Nobody talked. Mom and the lady looked at each other and then looked at me. I was wiggling again because I really had to use the bathroom.

Finally the lady of the house introduced herself. "I'm Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Jones will be here shortly. We will take charge of disciplining Susan. Ernie and Stan are two children we are watching for the summer. Susan will be spanked and otherwise disciplined as we see fit."

"I have to use the bathroom."

Ernie snickered when I said this, not in a mean way, but it struck him funny.

Mrs. Smith pointed to a small bathroom right off the foyer where we were all standing. I headed into the bathroom and Mrs. Smith followed me in!

"What are you doing? I have to go to the bathroom. Do you mind?" I was getting agitated.

"Would you rather have the boys stay with you? Or... I suppose we could leave the door open. You'll have no privacy here, Susan. Just consider this a prison - a nice, charming, old-fashioned prison. You will learn discipline and manners."

Her pose said she meant it. Since I really had to go, I just said, "You can stay."

"That's better."

"Are you going to close the door?"

"Perhaps I will if you ask me nicely."

"Would you please close the door?" I emphasized the 'please.'

"No I won't. I don't like your tone. We will leave the door open." She turned and fastened something to the top of the door which I knew I wouldn't be able to reach. She went back out into the foyer and began talking with my mother. The two boys stood grinning in the doorway, watching me.

Nothing in my experience prepared me for this. I didn't know what to do. I really had to pee, but could not do it like this. So, I just walked back out into the foyer and stood next to my mother, who now seemed like my only possible ally.

"These are the papers you will need to sign which will make me her legal guardian for the next two weeks. I will be her surrogate parent, making all decisions concerning her - what she does, what she wears, where we go, and so forth. Sign here. When we are finished, your little girl will have much better manners. She will learn to appreciate the privileges of home, if she is able to return in just two weeks."

My mother was signing papers on the shelf of the old coat rack. There was a mirror in the center of this strange piece of antique furniture, but I couldn't read the document. Something told me I wouldn't understand it if I could read it.

"You mean this might take more that two weeks?" asked my mother. "But her school starts in two weeks."

"This has happened before. We offer a home school program which has state board approval. If necessary, we will get her records from her school, and get tutors qualified for each of the subjects she is currently scheduled to take this Fall."

Mother looked at me again. Her look told me more than words could. I knew I'd better act right if I wanted to get home before September.

"These documents you just signed give me the right to request her school records. She will learn to follow instructions, whether she agrees with them or not. After this, school, or any of those jobs she was fired from, will seem like a piece of cake to her. Besides spankings, she may also be subjected to humiliation treatments."

"I know." Mom said. "She needs to learn discipline - and she is too haughty for her own good."

Then Mom turned and looked at me. A look of sadness and doubt flitted across her face. She turned quickly and left without saying anything to me. I was hurt. We used to argue a lot, but she never snubbed me in front of people before. And what did Mrs. Smith mean by 'humiliation treatments?'

The door closed. Mrs. Smith and the two boys just stood and looked at me.

I tried to stand still, but couldn't.

"May I please use the restroom, Mrs. Smith?"

"Yes. But leave the door open. Ernie and Stan, will you watch her for me? I'm going up to start her bath. We're going out to dinner tonight before Susan gets her spanking." She turned and headed up the circular stairway. "Would you boys like to watch her get her spanking?"

"Yes, Mam."

"Well then, if she doesn't let you watch her pee, then you can watch her get her spankings later. It just might be a bare bottom spanking." She headed up the stairs.

I knew the door was fastened above my reach. "At least turn around while I go. Can't you let a lady pee in privacy?" They laughed at this as they watched me unbuckle my belt. They watched me intently, smiling.

With them standing in the doorway of the small bathroom I was undecided about what to do. After momentarily wondering if I might need their help over the next two weeks, I decided not to press the issue. I turned around and lowered my jeans and panties. They could only see my fanny for an instant because I sat down so fast.

We all listened to my pee splash into the toilet. Nobody spoke. My blushing face felt bright red, and I knew it was obvious against my short, blond hair. Then, with some alarm I noticed that the roll of toilet paper was on the counter by the sink on the opposite side of the room. Rather than ask one of them to hand me the paper, I decided to skip the wiping step and stood up while pulling up my pants. Maybe they got a glimpse of my bush and maybe they didn't. I pretended not to care.

After flushing the toilet and washing my hands I walked between them into the hall. I gave them a neutral look trying to make friends by not being rightfully angry.

Ernie finally spoke, "You're pretty, Susan." His voice cracked twice in one short sentence, betraying his nervousness, and his puberty.

"Thanks. Are you guys prisoners here, too?"

"Sort of. They are really just baby-sitting us in this 'rustic environment,' as my mother says, so we won't be tempted to get into any 'city trouble.'"

Stan added, "Same here. I did get in trouble at school last year, and my parents didn't want to leave me at my aunt's house while they are out of the country this month. They said she was too easy on kids. It hasn't been so bad here." I also raised my estimate of Stan's age. After talking, he seemed older, like maybe eleven.

I could tell the two boys knew something I didn't by the way they looked at each other and smiled.

"What is it?" I was getting a little impatient. "Do you guys know something else you're not telling me?"

This time they looked at each other and laughed, which kind of pissed me off. "Little twerps." I said.

For some reason, this made them laugh even more.

"OK, Dipshits, tell me what's going on here, and how I can escape."

I turned back towards the stairs when I heard Mrs. Smith coming back down.

"You're not the first 'bad girl' who's been here this summer." Whispered Ernie with his hand over his mouth.

"I don't like that kind of language, Susan. You shouldn't call your new friends, 'Dipshits!' Bend over and hold your ankles. That's five."

The boys were smirking.

"I didn't call them anything. What are you talking about? Five what?"

"Five spankings, but change that to ten for lying to me."

"But how did you know what I said?"

"It doesn't matter. Should we make it fifteen? What do you think boys? Ten or fifteen. Through her jeans, on her panties... or bare bottomed?"

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Smith." answered Ernie.

"Ten. On your jeans, since this is your first day with us... And since you'll be getting plenty more tonight. Won't she, boys?"

"Yes, Mam. She will get a hot seat after dinner."

I started to protest, but she held up her hand and motioned for me to turn and bend over. Something told me I'd better do it without further argument.

"She's starting to learn some manners already. Isn't she, boys?" and she smacked my fanny hard with her bare hand.

"Ouch!" and I stood up, turning, rubbing my fanny with both hands.

The three of them just stood there and looked at me. Mrs. Smith said, "She doesn't know the rules yet."

Looking back at me, she said, "If you rub your fanny without permission, the spank doesn't count. Now turn around and bend over."

There were tears in my eyes when I stood up after taking ten more - only ten. No standing, and no rubbing my fanny. I would show them how tough I was.

Ernie and Stan ran back outside to hold the dog again as another car pulled up. A Cadilac.

The woman who got out of the car was much younger than Mrs. Smith. Mid-twenties was my guess, but maybe thirty. She got a small suitcase out of her car, smaller than the one I had just carried in. She handed it to one of the boys. It was getting dark out.

"You're Susie." She said, looking at me, seeing the tears.

"She has a stud in her tongue, Mrs. Jones." said one of the boys.

"My name is Susan, not Susie."

"Yes. We've heard she is a bad girl." Mrs. Jones said to the boys, ignoring my comment. "We'll leave Susie's stud in for now, though. We know how to soften up tough girls. Don't we, Ernie?"

"I will be glad to help, Mrs. Jones. It's for her own good."

I hate that when people talk about me right in front of me.

"Well, it's time for her bath now. Is everything ready?"

"Yes. Just about." answered Mrs. Smith. "You boys can run out and play. Don't go peeking in the bathroom or bedroom windows!" and she scooted them out with a laugh.

Their firm hands led me upstairs to a large bathroom. The bath smelled wonderful although the room felt uncomfortably warm. Of course, it was August. The windows were open and a breeze was blowing the curtains, but the steam from the bath formed a hot fog clear to the ceiling.

Both women had a toughness about them. A drill sergeant toughness, I knew not to mess with. "Get undressed." said Mrs. Jones.

Instead of leading me to the tub, she led me over to the built-in, tile dressing table. She sat down and positioned me to face her. I felt uncomfortable the way she looked at my blond bush. Her hand reached out to grasp the top hairs, and said, "This has to go, Susan."

"What do you mean?"

"Your little bush has to go. Before your spanking tonight, you will need to be bald as a baby."

"But what would my friends say?"

"Oh. Now, Susan. Do any of your friends ever see your bush? Are you telling us something which we should report to your mother?"

"No. Nobody ever sees it. But why do you need to.. um shave it or cut it off or whatever?"

"We won't have to shave much. Will we Ellen?" said Mrs. Jones.

"No. Hardly any. Her lips are still baby smooth." Then, taking control, she told me, "Ginny is going to trim your bush with a scissors now. After your bath, we'll shave it smooth and get you all dolled up for dinner tonight."

"Dinner?" suddenly aware of my hunger.

Mrs. Smith chuckled. "Yes, Susie. We're going to a party for dinner. There will be some other people there, including some kids. You will like being around some other kids, won't you. Just remember you will be getting spanked later in the evening. Think about it. Anticipate it. It will hurt." "But meanwhile, enjoy your dinner, and play with the other kids. Have fun. We want you to look your prettiest, to act like a perfect little lady." added Mrs. Jones.

She was trimming my bush with a scissors and comb. It only took a few snips and most of it was gone. Then she surprised me with an even stranger request, or I should say command.

I thought I heard a laugh outside the window.

"Turn around and put your hands on your fanny. Pull your cheeks apart and bend over."

"Why?" This was getting embarrassing again.

"You'd better remind her of our rules, Ellen."

"One. Don't question our instructions. Two. Do what we say immediately. Three. Don't ask questions."

"I thought I heard something outside our windoow." I turned and looked, but it was hard to be sure if there were two faces outside the window, since it was getting dark and because of the bright lights and fog in the bathroom.

This is crazy, I thought, but didn't dare say out loud. Instead I followed directions and bent over, pulling my fanny cheeks as far open as possible. They looked for a moment and patted my butt.

"Stand up, Susie. Just for your information, we were checking to see if you had any hair around your anus. You don't. So, we will only have to shave the remains of your small bush."

They led me to the tub and gave me a bath. I was surprised by their tenderness as they washed every square inch, including my bottom and between my legs.

As I got out of the tub, I saw the boys through the window. Sitting outside the window on some kind of back porch roof. I put my hands over my breasts and started to say something, but realized that the women knew the boys were out there and didn't say anything. "Creeps." I said to myself.

"Take Susie into the bedroom and get her ready for her first shave on the massage table. I'll let some water out of the bath so we can warm it up again in a few minutes.'

Then Mrs. Smith said to me, "You'll get two baths this evening, Susie. We want to make sure you're sparkling clean all over. You need to be clean for your spanking."

After leading me into the adjoining bedroom, Mrs. Jones had me hop up on a towel covered massage table and spread my legs, knees up, feet on the towel by my fanny. Mrs. Jones began lathering up my pussy. By the time it was all lathered up Mrs. Smith had come back in. They shaved my pussy carefully and I held very still.

It was dark outside and I wondered if those stupid boys could see in this window, too, as I laid there with my knees apart. They shaved my lips even though they said they didn't really need it. They washed it off, shaved it again. They repeated that several times.

I tried to lay perfectly still and not say a word, but it did feel good when they rinsed me off with a warm washcloth each time. The rough, warm washcloth was getting me all sensitized as it continued to wash from below my asshole to my belly button. They rinsed much more than was necessary and it was beginning to turn me on.

"Did you have a bowel movement today, Young Lady?"

"Yes. This morning."

"Well, just to be on the safe side, we'll give you an enema now. You must be clean inside and out. We wouldn't want any embarrassing stains on the pretty new panties you'll be getting."

Oh God. They spread my cheeks and put lubricant on my anus. One of them kept putting a lubricated finger up my asshole. God, how embarrassing! Then they inserted a plastic nozzle and filled me with warm, soapy water. I felt like I was going to burst!" I heard barely repressed laughter outside the window, but I was facing the other way. The women helped me off the table and led me back into the adjoining bathroom.

"Your shaved lips will me more sensitive in your new panties, Susie." Said Mrs. Jones as they led me back into the bathroom to the toilet and then to the tub for another quick bath. This time they washed my hair.

After the bath it was back onto the massage table again, for a perfumed lotion full body massage. It felt great. My skin glowed and tingled all over. Once again, every square inch was massaged tenderly. I was very compliant, even when they did my private parts. At first I deluded myself by pretending I was compliant because I was afraid of them, but I opened my legs as they massaged my pussy and anus, and had to admit to my self it felt erotic - and great. They rolled me on my tummy and did my shoulders, back, legs, feet, and lastly - my ass.

A lubricated finger slid in again and moved around. "All clean, Susie." said Mrs. Jones, as she wiped me off with a warm cloth again.