Copyright 1999 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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[Image of Little Miss Naughty] What If?
by Mija

She began.

"At the store today there was Something-Small-and-Sparkly. I wanted it - not to buy, to take. I didn't take it.

"But what if I had?

"What if I'd dropped it into the bag of other items I'd bought? What if no-one had ever known?

"But what if I'd told you?

"Or what if you'd seen me? Caught me with your eyes as the Small-and-Sparkly thing dropped? Seen me as a thief? Not for need or even want, but for the thrill?

"Would you have walked away forever?"

"No," he said, listening.

"What if you'd seen me, but I'd put it in my bag and walked away? Would you have followed me? Taken my arm and made me put the Something-Small-and-Sparkly back?

"But what if I'd gotten away before you could take my arm? What if I'd come home? Would you have followed me here?"

"Yes," he said, listening.

"But what if when I got home Something-Small-and-Sparkly was in my bag? Something you knew was the sort of thing I would want but never buy. What if you knew I was a thief? Would you leave me then?"

"No," he said, listening.

"But what if I confessed? What if I admitted to thrill stealing? Because I want to? What if I said I'd taken it just to see what would happen?

"Would you scold me?"

"Yes," he said, listening.

"But what if I wasn't sorry? What if I didn't think taking Something-Small-and-Sparkly was wrong? What if I thought it was of such small value taking it wasn't even stealing? What if I wouldn't promise not to do it again? Would you leave me then?"

"No," he said, listening.

"But what if I still wasn't sorry? Would you show me what would happen? Would you punish me?"

"Yes," he said, watching her closely as she took Something-Small-and-Sparkly from each ear and came to stand between his legs.

"What if I'd stolen these?" she said, placing them carefully on the table beside his chair.

His eyes met hers as he put her hands on top of her head and unfastened her jeans, pulling them down to her ankles. His hands roved over her bottom and thighs, then he hooked his thumbs in her panties and pulled them down past her knees. He smacked her hard on each cheek with the flat of his hand.

She gasped at the pain and surprise. He watched as the red bloomed against a pale background.

Standing, he positioned her over the sofa arm and stood beside her. She looked up and saw him rolling up his sleeves, unbuckling his wide leather belt.

"And what if I told you I was going to thrash you until you were out of questions?"

He watched her eyes fill with tears.

"Yes, sir," she whispered, listening.

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