Copyright 2000 to <mijita@thetreehouse.net>. Please respect this copyright. Don't distribute or archive this story in any way except for personal use without explicit permission. No, it's not in the public domain. Ask first, okay? Thanks.

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:) For Kessily :)

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[Image of Little Miss Naughty] Saying
by Mija

The phone rang loud in the small house; Mija hurried to answer it.

"Hiya, Sunshine. How ya doing?"

"Oh I'm doing fine. How's work? Wow, is it three o'clock already?"

"It is. I'm trying to finish up some e-mail so I can come home. Have you been a good girl today?"

"Uh-huh. I finished my book and everything."

"That sounds really nice. And all your daily jobs are done? So I'll be pleased when I get home?"

"Yup. All of them."

"Good girl. Be good and I'll see you at seven. Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, Paul."

A dial tone buzzed loud in Mija's ear. She looked down, almost surprised to see her pink bunny slippers. They matched her pajamas, the ones she was still wearing. Getting dressed was pretty high on her list of daily jobs - even before getting her bed made. And brushing her teeth. Blech. Why should people need to do the same stuff everyday anyway. She shrugged and went to log back on-line. Paul could be so picky, Mija thought, wrinkling her nose at the screen.

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"Mija, I'm very surprised at you. You told me you'd done all your jobs and not a single one of them is finished."

"I didn't say I'd finished all my jobs. Besides, I started folding my laundry. That should sorta count."

Mija gestured toward a somewhat loosely-stacked pile of clothing. When she turned back, Paul's expression had shifted from irritation to shock. This hardly seemed an improvement. Didn't he get this?

"You did tell me you'd finished. Not five hours ago on the phone."

Mija squared her jaw a bit and lifted her chin smugly.

"You may have thought I said that they were all done, but what I said was I'd like to have them all done by the time you get home. Really you should try and be more clear that what you hear, isn't always what I say. And if you don't hear me right, well, that's hardly my fault."

Paul stepped closer to Mija and put his finger under her chin.

"So this is my fault? For not understanding what you said? Is that what you're saying, hmm?"

Mija nodded slowly. "Um, well, I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose -"

"Not doing any of your work is bad enough, young lady. Don't make this worse by lying to me. You and I both know that isn't what you said. I heard you tell me your jobs were done. Because I specifically asked. If they weren't done yet, you should have told me they weren't."

Mija quavered inside a little but held firm, meeting Paul's eyes for a moment and then looking down toward the floor. His finger brought her chin back up. Didn't he know how really annoying that is? Rude even.

"Like, I'm so sure, Paul. I'm the only person who can say what it was that I said. You can only say what you heard or thought I meant. And I'm saying I never said that my jobs were done. Why would I? They aren't done."

Paul held her gaze. With his finger stuck under her chin she couldn't look away, so she finally glared at him a second, so he'd know she wasn't scared at all and then closed her eyes.

"That we agree on, Miss. Your daily jobs aren't done. And so you deserve a spanking. And you lied to me. So you're going to get a blistering."

Mija squirmed a bit, her bottom suddenly aching. The word "blistering" always did that to her. This conversation wasn't going the way she'd imagined.

"But, but I told you I didn't really say that. How can you punish me for something I didn't say? It's not a lie if I never said it, right?"

"Mija!" Paul's voice was warning now, that tone that sorta made her insides shake. She suddenly felt very quiet. "Go stand in that corner right now. You know what you said and you know what I heard. And it's what I heard you say on the phone and what I'm hearing you say now that's going to get you whacked."

Mija almost started to answer, but stopped. They'd talked about him washing her mouth out for lying. So far he hadn't and he hadn't mentioned it today. Mija didn't intend to remind him by pushing further. Still, one could call the way she "walked" to the corner a bit of a "stomp". She seemed to spend an awful lot of time staring at the corners of their house. She started wondering if maybe she should paint them different and interesting colors.

"Get your nose right in there, young lady. I want you to think very hard about what you did today. And also about what you didn't do. You have six very simple jobs that we made rules about for your own benefit because they help you keep your life in order. But they only help if you do them."

Since he couldn't see her, Mija rolled her eyes and mouthed "Thanks, right, like duh." But she stood very straight and still, trying not to squirm even though her unspanked bottom itched to be rubbed.

Paul came up behind her, untied her pajamas and lowered them to her ankles. Then he hooked his thumbs inside her panties. This isn't going to help me think, was what she thought.

"You think about all the times you've lied to me and how many times you've been punished. Think about how much that brush is going to hurt you in a few minutes. And you be ready to tell me why you lied to me just now. Understand?"

Mija nodded, feeling tears starting to creep out of the corners of her eyes as her panties were lowered to her knees. Did he really just mention the horrid hairbrush?

"Hands on your head, Miss, and you stand very still until I tell you you can turn around."

Mija's elbows met the wall as she tried frantically to think of a good answer. "I just did" probably wouldn't work - it never seemed to. She heard the always-scary sound of the chair being set down in the middle of the room and squirmed. Being punished in the front room was terrible; part of her was always afraid someone would come to the door and somehow Paul would let them see her in the corner and then they'd know she'd been a naughty girl. No one ever came of course, but she still worried.

She started counting. Each time she got to one hundred she stopped and then started counting again. Of course she couldn't keep track of how high she was going, but knew she'd been in the corner longer than usual. Or thought she knew. Standing there staring at the walls she forgot about her jobs and the excuses and being cute and giving smart answers. Standing there her legs felt very bare, vulnerable. But safe too. She knew Paul was there, watching.

"All right, Miss, you can pull your panties and pajamas up and come over here."

Slowly, before she turned around, Mija pulled her pajamas up - aware even as she raised them that they'd be coming back down again soon. Having them up made her feel better though. She didn't look up, but walked across the room to Paul's feet. He led her to the sofa then sat down beside her. Mija kept her eyes fixed on her lap as Paul took both her hands in his and looked at her.

"Okay, sweetheart. Thank you for being so good in the corner."

Mija didn't say anything, but nodded. She tried not to squirm, but all she could really think about was how much being spanked was going to hurt. Had he really said "blistering"?

"I'm sorry, Paul. I really did mean to get them all done, really."

"I know. But why do we have rules, hmmm?"

"Because otherwise things around here get out of control for me."

"Right. And when you lie to me, you keep me from being able to tell what's going on. Why didn't you tell me you hadn't done your work when I asked you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I thought it would get done and I didn't want you to worry about me. Because, um, I know you're really busy and everything."

Mija nodded, this sounded really good. Noble even. And certainly not a lie. Even Paul laughed a little.

"Maybe I want to worry about you. What do you think would have happened if you'd told me you hadn't even changed out of your pajamas yet?"

Mija shrugged a little.

"I dunno. I guess you would have asked me what I'd been doing and I'd have had to tell you I'd been reading and chatting on-line all day."

"Right. And I'd have told you to stay off the net until your jobs were done and maybe given you a smack when I got home."

She nodded. Mija was also pretty sure it would have been more than one smack too. But sometimes, she thought, you have to know when to stop arguing. This, in case you haven't gotten it yet, was time to stop. Maybe even past time.

"But I didn't want to get off the 'net. I like being on the 'puter, ya know? And what if people asked me why I had to leave?"

"I know, love. But there has to be balance, between those things you want to do and those you need to. And now you're going to be punished, in part by being off the 'net for a week."

Mija felt somewhat ashamed and also sorry for herself. Paul was right, even though he could sound sort of pompous sometimes. Spanking and a week off the net? She also wondered how she was going to survive. Web? Usenet?? E-mail??? She didn't argue, though honestly one could only hope there was some sort of cruel and unusual punishment law that could prevent this.

The chair sat alone in the middle of the living room, hairbrush resting ominously on its seat. Paul didn't say anything else but stood and walked to the chair, her hand clasped in his. Her heart thudded so loudly Mija was sure he could hear it. Blood rushed to her face and she felt hot and leaden.

As confused thoughts of protest passed through her head, Mija found herself face down across Paul's lap, pajamas and panties at her ankles. Her hands, wise from long practice, wrapped themselves around the chair rungs. She wondered what Paul would say if she asked him about déja vu. Probably nothing she wanted to hear. Her hands tightened. Had he really mentioned "blistering"??

He had.

There was no warm-up, nor even tapping. The hairbrush hovered a moment and then crashed hard into her bottom. It took fewer than twenty smacks for Mija to burst into tears, but the spanking carried on for much longer. Long past struggles and sorries and pleas and even tears. Past her right hand being grasped and held in the small of her back. It lasted until Mija could barely remember that it would ever stop.

But after he stopped, Paul turned her over and wrapped his arms around her. Mija cried into his chest for a long time, maybe just a little more than she really needed to, just to make sure he felt a little bad for spanking her so hard.

When he set her on her feet and helped her pull her pajamas back up, she didn't need to peek to know her bottom was deep red down to the very tops of her thighs. Though of course, Mija did peek, studying the redness with an odd mixture of pride and horror.

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Later, after Mija washed her face and curled up next to Paul on the sofa, he took her hand, kissed it and asked how she felt.

"Sore. And glad it's over. I promise not to lie anymore."

She curled a bit closer to him.

"It's not completely over. I meant what I said, no net for a week, sweetheart."

Mija wiggled still closer, feeling Paul's hand rub her bottom through her pajamas. It felt good, but she was darn sorry he hadn't forgotten about the net stuff.

"And when I say 'no net', I specifically mean 'no newsgroup'. I can do without the ideas you're picking up there."

Mija said nothing, but stuck out her tongue. She was too close for Paul to see, but he knew anyway and landed a smack on the seat of her PJs before pulling her onto his lap.

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