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Water; or, Joan and Lisa Visit Jamie and Alan at the Beach
in which: Alan Gives Jamie the Shirt off his
Back (twice), Jamie is Spanked by Alan (well, duh), and Both
of Them Learn a Few Things
It was about 6 PM when Alan reached the beach
house he and Jamie were renting for the month of July. Jamie
had gotten there much earlier in the day and had started to
get the place ready for their stay. On top of a bluff, the house
had wooden stairs leading from a deck in back down to the sand.
At one end of the house there were two bedrooms, one of which
was being used as a study, and at the other end of the house
was the guest bedroom and bath. In between was a good-sized
living room that faced the front of the house and a well-equipped
kitchen with large windows and sliding glass doors that opened
onto the deck. The weather was pleasant, and the windows were
open to let in a sea breeze.
Joan and Lisa were going to arrive later that
evening to spend a week with Jamie and Alan. Jamie always considered
herself very fortunate in having Joan for a friend; members
of the same academic department, they had clicked almost instantly,
and they were confidantes about both work and personal stuff.
Lisa and Joan had been together for about 3 years, and both
couples often socialized together. Alan was one of those rare
men who really enjoyed the company of women and knew how to
gossip with them.
When he didn't find Jamie in the house, Alan
headed for the beach. He was looking forward to these 4 weeks,
even though he knew he'd probably make at least a couple of
trips back home to take care of business. Jamie had brought
her computer and some research materials but also a good supply
of detective fiction and mysteries--Paretsky, Grafton, Cornwell,
Dunlap, and others--"chick dicks," as she liked to
think of them. Although Joan and Jamie had some school work
to do together, Jamie was hoping to work on her newest hobby:
learning to relax.
About an hour before Alan got there, Jamie
had thought she might take a walk on the beach and get her feet
wet. She was wearing a mostly black one-piece bathingsuit under
her loose-fitting khaki shorts. The lifeguards were packing
up for the day, and only a few people remained on the sand or
at the water's edge. The sun was already getting lower in the
sky but wouldn't set until around 8:30. Jamie always loved the
solitude of the beach in the late afternoon. When she was alone
with the ocean, it seemed as if this one late afternoon merged
with all the other times she had spent on various beaches; being
at the shore seemed unifying in a way. She understood why there
were so many bad paintings of the ocean.
Jamie stood in one place in the shallow water
and let the waves bury her feet in the sand. Then, pulling her
feet up, she waded into the water a little deeper. The water
felt great, and soon Jamie was lost in play with the waves,
oblivious to the fact that she still had her shorts on and that
she was the only person still in the water or on the beach.
Smiling with delight, Jamie was jumping waves and diving through
them as they broke overhead. She swam out past where they were
breaking so she could do some real swimming and then headed
back in a little bit to jump waves again.
When Alan spotted her, she was playing like
a seal pup. He gestured to Jamie to come into shore. Because
she was so far out, almost even with the end of the stone jetty,
it took her a few minutes to reach Alan. She swam for a bit,
then rode a wave part way, and finally waded through the shallow
water to where Alan was standing. Happy to see him, she gave
him a wet hug, laughing as she drenched his clothes. He returned
the hug and kissed her wet, salty forehead. He let her know
how glad he was to be with her, but then the tenor of his greeting
"Jamie, what were you doing all the way
out there by yourself? You promised that if you were alone and
without a lifeguard, you'd never go out deeper than your tush.
And you promised you'd never go out as far as you were just
now at all. I know you're a strong swimmer, but it's just not
safe. Buddy system and all that. You don't know the currents
here. I am astonished that you'd do something like this."
Jamie couldn't believe that her exhilarating
wave jumping had come to this end, being lectured to by Alan
about safety and broken promises. How could her innocent joy
in swimming in the ocean have gotten her here? She tried to
explain that she hadn't meant to get that wet at all. In fact,
she pointed out that she was still wearing her shorts over her
swimsuit and had not brought a towel with her, evidence of her
impulsiveness and not premeditated promise-breaking.
Alas, that didn't gain her any ground. Alan
seemed to think she should be able to pay better attention to
what she was doing. For once, Jamie did not try to cite any
studies supporting her actions. She found herself walking quickly
ahead of Alan, trying to keep more than an arm's distance between
them as she crossed the sand to the stairs leading to the house.
The sand stuck to Jamie's wet legs, and she headed for the small
outdoor shower stall on the deck to rinse off and wash the salt
water out of her hair. She peeled off her wet clothes and held
them under the shower head. Alan said he'd meet her indoors
and left her his T-shirt to put on after she dried herself off.
The dark green towel that had been on the deck in the sun felt
wonderfully warm on Jamie's skin as she rubbed herself down.
She tried not to think about how upset Alan was over her swim.
Entering the house, she called for Alan and
located him in the bedroom. "Alan, I. . ." was all
she got out before he started speaking.
"Jamie," he said, "you know
you aren't going to get away with breaking a promise and doing
something as dangerous as you just did, don't you?"
Jamie said nothing.
"What time will Lisa and Joan be here?"
This needed an answer. "Around 8, I think."
"Well then, here's your choice. You can
either get your spanking over with now before they get here,
or you can wait until after their visit--it's up to you."
"Some choice," thought Jamie, but
she decided she'd rather not have the spectre of a spanking
present all during her friends' visit.
"Jamie, this is serious, and I want you
to recognize that. You broke promises and you were doing something
extremely dangerous. So, young lady, you will be doing some
corner time before your spanking, and in addition to my hand,
I am going to paddle your bottom with your hairbrush."
"What? corner time? *corner time*? I've
never . . . I don't even know how. . . corner time? you can't
mean this . . . and my hairbrush?" Shocked, Jamie couldn't
remember the last time Alan had spanked her with her hairbrush.
"Yes, Jamie, that's what I said, corner
time and your hairbrush. There isn't much to know about how
to do corner time. You stand in the corner. You keep your head
turned to the corner. You keep quiet. For 10 minutes."
Alan knew that standing still for 10 minutes, while not a trial
for some people, would be very difficult for Jamie; anything
longer than that would just be cruel. And there was the immanent
arrival of Joan and Lisa to consider. "*Now*, Jamie."
Wearing Alan's blue T-shirt, Jamie headed
sulkily for the corner, barefoot and on legs that felt as if
she were still jumping waves. When 10 minutes had passed, Alan
called her to him where he sat on a straight- backed chair.
Her legs shook as she made her way across the seemingly enormous
expanse of floor. She saw that Alan had retrieved her hairbrush
from the bathroom.
Alan took her hands and guided her over his
lap, instructing her to hold the chair rungs as he positioned
her for the spanking. Gravity was not on Jamie's side, and she
felt as though she would fall on her head; the large T-shirt
fell floorward and exposed her vulnerable bottom. Jamie had
not yet spent much time in the summer sun; there was only a
slight difference in color between her pale thighs and her even
Often Jamie would be in tears by the time
she was over Alan's knees, a mixture of emotions at work, anxiety
and a sort of security in the familiarity and inevitability
of things. But this was different--she wasn't used to Alan sitting
in a chair instead of on a couch or bed, and she wasn't used
to anticipating a hairbrush. Jamie felt too shaky to cry, if
that's possible. She clung tightly to the chair rungs. Alan
snugged her to him and held her tightly in place so she wouldn't
fall. Jamie held her breath as she waited for the spanking to
SLAP, SLAP, SMACK filled the bedroom as Alan
started spanking Jamie's bare bottom with his large hand. SMACK,
SMACK and finally "oww" SMACK "oh, shit"
SMACK "eeeyoowwwch, Al--aan" SMACK. As Alan continued
his assault on Jamie's rapidly pinkening backside and Jamie
felt the oh-so-familiar sting, her tears started to fall. Alan
didn't say much, just continued landing hard spanks, distributing
them evenly, reddening her bottom. After rubbing her bottomcheeks
and massaging some of the sting away, Alan picked up the hairbrush
and patted the center of Jamie's bottom with it to let Jamie
know he was about to start using it. Jamie gasped when she felt
the wood and then clenched her teeth. She was breathing audibly
as the first WHAPs landed. Then WHAP "owww" WHACK
"ohhhh" WHAP and then sobs that turned to heartfelt
Alan had thought that about 30 spanks with
the hairbrush would be about right for Jamie's misdeeds. But
before he had landed 20, Jamie was crying loudly and shaking,
and Alan stopped. He waited for Jamie's breathing to even out
a bit and then stared rubbing her back and bottom. He massaged
some of the sting away, but the burn was slow to change to diffused
warmth. "Shhh, shhh, it's all over, sweetie. You're ok."
Jamie wept silently then, tears finally slowing to a trickle.
Alan helped her off his lap and then stood up himself and gave
her a hug. Bending his head down and kissing her softly, he
held her close to him and said, "Jamie, you know I love
you and always will, no matter what you do." "Uh-huh."
"Ok then, sweetie, why don't you wash up and get dressed.
I'm going to get some food ready, and you can lie down in the
living room for a while."
The cool water felt good splashed on Jamie's
hot face. She kept a hand on her even hotter bottom as she thought
about what to wear. She chose a baggy pair of white linen pants
with an elastic waistband. Often-washed, the fabric was soft
to the touch. Jamie decided that if she wore her long black
linen T-shirt-like top, she could forego the panties that would
only mean uncomfortable seams chafing against her tender tush.
About half an hour later, Lisa and Joan looked
in through the front screen door and saw Jamie on her tummy
on the couch. She didn't manage to get up before they came into
the house and all exchanged greetings.
"Let's see--unopened book, pouty little
face, bottomside up on the couch--I'd say it looks like somebody
got a spanking recently. Whadidyado Jamie, to deserve this one?"
"Nothing. Alan was a big meanie and spanked
me just 'cause I was having fun," Jamie said with a pout.
Usually, Jamie could take Joan and Lisa's
teasing about the fact that Alan spanked her, and she'd even
join in joking about it. But it was obvious to both of them
that Jamie was not in a mood receptive to teasing and joking
"I'm gonna go see what Alan's doing in
the kitchen," Lisa said as she headed into the other room.
Joan looked more closely at Jamie and saw
that she looked seconds away from tears; in fact, she looked
like a chastened 10 year old.
"Jamie, can I sit near you?" Jamie
moved a bit and propped herself up on her arms so that Joan
could sit at the end of the couch near Jamie's head.
"Ok, James, spill it."
"Jamie, you look like a sulky, spanked
10 year old, and I know you well enough to know something is
the matter. It's not just that you got your bottom smacked,
Jamie silently shook her head 'no.'
"It can't be that Lisa teased you?"
Another shake of the head.
"But it's something to do with a spanking?"
A small nod 'yes' from Jamie.
"Jamie, let's not play 20 questions,
please. Please just tell me what's the matter, ok? Here, put
your head on my lap and talk to me."
Jamie inched herself closer to Joan and put
her head down on her friend's lap, one arm under her head, the
other extended above her head, across both of Joan's jean-clad
thighs. Joan put her left hand on Jamie's back. With her right
hand, she brushed Jamie's red-brown hair from her face.
"Now, Jamie, hon, are you going to tell
A nod. A squeak.
Joan started rubbing Jamie's back slowly.
She had never seen Jamie like this. Something about Jamie's
vulnerability made Joan want to take care of her friend and
make it all better for her.
"Well," Jamie began, voice quavering,
"well, usually after Alan um-sp-spanks me, well, then he
rubs my back and um--other places--and then he hugs me and tells
me everything's ok and then he sends me to bed and then he gets
in bed too and then I cuddle up right next to him and then I
fall asleep and then in the morning I wake up and feel much
Joan already knew all of this; Jamie had once
told her about how a spanking typically went, but Joan let Jamie
talk it out, only prompting with a "yes."
"Well, this time, Alan had to get food
ready in the kitchen and stuff. I mean, he hugged me an' all,
but then he just told me to lie down out here and read or something.
And, I know it's silly, but I just--I just feel so sad and alone
and abandoned out here. I mean, I know Alan loves me, but I
just feel awful."
"Jamie, feelings aren't silly."
Joan continued to rub Jamie's back, and Jamie let the tears
run down her face. "Feelings are just, well, feelings,
and they aren't silly or smart or anything else. Would you like
me to massage your neck and back?"
"Oh, Joanie, please."
Keeping her head on Joan's lap, Jamie put
her arms at her sides. Joan kneaded Jamie's palms and arms and
worked her way up to her neck. Jamie's silent tears came to
a stop. She relaxed her strong, swimmer's shoulders in response
to Joan's gentle, healing hands, and Joan finished with some
broad openhanded slow rubs on Jamie's back. She was pleased
to hear Jamie's sigh of relaxation and contentment.
"Thanks Joan, I feel much, much better
now!" Jamie wiped her face.
"I'm glad, pal."
Some minutes passed, each woman thinking her
own thoughts in silence, and then Joan said, "Jamie, you're
lucky that these are just my old jeans that you've soaked with
tears; if they were my good pants, I'd have to pull you farther
over my lap and give you a good, sound spanking." They
both laughed at this because they knew it would never happen.
Jamie's laughter was a sign that the 10 year old had been reabsorbed
into the adult and that she was feeling like herself again.
"You two done talking shop?" Alan
asked as he and Lisa appeared with trays of food. Alan and Lisa
often tried to avoid Jamie and Joan's talk about their seemingly
insane colleagues. Jamie and Joan looked at each other and said
together, "Yeah, sure."
Lisa said, "Alan, our Jamie says that
you were a meanie and spanked her just for having fun--is this
Alan had helped Jamie to her feet, and he
stood behind her with his arms crossed over in front of her,
forming a sort of nest. Jamie hugged his arms to her as Alan
said, "If that's Jamie's story, it must be true."
As he leaned down and kissed the top of her head, Jamie whispered
"C'mon, let's eat!" Alan could always
be counted on when food was concerned. The four friends sat
in the living room eating and talking and laughing. Jamie shifted
a bit on the couch occasionally and was a little quieter than
usual, but they all enjoyed the meal and each other's company.
As people often do when they're eating, they all talked about
more food opportunities, and they planned a lazy and indulgent
brunch for themselves for the next day. Dinner over, Alan and
Jamie volunteered to clean up the meal's debris.
"Great! We're gonna go for a romantic
stroll on the beach. Don't bother waiting up for us, and we'll
try not to wake you when we come in," Lisa said as she
and Joan deposited some dishes in the kitchen and headed for
the back door.
"Ok," Alan said, "first one
up tomorrow makes the coffee--unless it's Joan." "Hey--"
After the mess was under control to Alan's
satisfaction, he said, "Jamie, you look exhausted. Why
don't you go get undressed, and I'll come rub some lotion on
your sore little tush? Would you like that, sweetie?"
Jamie shed her clothes and clambered up naked
onto the bed; carefully she lowered herself onto her tummy to
wait for Alan, one hand gently rubbing her bottomcheeks.Alan
was almost as tired as Jamie. Dressed in his red and blue plaid
boxer shorts and a white v-neck T-shirt, Alan returned from
the bathroom with a tube of lotion. Because Jamie usually went
right to bed after a spanking, Alan wasn't used to seeing what
her bottom looked like between the time he stopped spanking
it and it was uniformly red and the next morning when it was
mostly just a little pink. He felt tremendous guilt and sympathy
when he saw how sore Jamie's bottom looked, with some hairbrush
marks visible amidst general pinkness. "Oh, Jamie, I'm
sorry. You needed a good, hard spanking, but I mean, does it
hurt very much yet?"
"Alan, I'm fine, really. But, that hairbrush
*really, really* hurt a *lot*. Please don't ever use it like
that again. I can deal with corner time if I have to, but please
not the brush." Alan agreed to Jamie's request and promised
no more hairbrush.
He smoothed the olive and aloe lotion onto
her bottom very, very gently with his fingertips and the side
of his index finger. Either in response to his touch or because
of the breeze blowing through the open window, Jamie shivered
a little. Alan pulled off the T-shirt he had planned to sleep
in and gave it to Jamie. "Here, baby, put this on."
She poked her tangled mop of hair through the neck opening and
then put her arms through the sleeves, relishing the way the
T-shirt smelled slightly of Alan and was till warm from his
"Alan, thank you for keeping your promise
and not talking about my um-spanking with Lisa and Joan. You're
a good guy. I'm sorry I told them you were a meanie."
"Jamie, you know I promised you that
if you want to talk about your spankings, it's up to you, but
I won't ever tell anyone anything, not even our best friends."
"Thank you Alan. I love you. You keep
promises better than anyone I know." And she added quietly,
"I'll try to keep mine, too. I *do* try, you know."
"And I love you, Jamie. Listen, Jamie,
I know something was the matter earlier--do you want to tell
me what it was? Is it ok now? I promised *I* would never bring
up the topic of why you got spanked--once it's over, case closed--but
if *you* need to talk about your spanking or the reason for
it, *you* can. You don't have to keep it to yourself if you're
upset about something. Jamie, you can let me in, remember?"
A wave of relief, of overpowering love for Alan, and of the
feeling of being loved and cared for washed over Jamie.
"Oh, Alan, I just felt so alone after
you went into the kitchen to get stuff ready. I didn't realize
till then how much I always depended on feeling your body next
to mine after a sp-spanking, and I just felt so terrible there
on the couch by myself. I mean, believe me, I'm glad I got it
over with, but maybe it would have been better to wait until
after Joan and Lisa's visit."
"There's always next time, sweetie."
"Alan!" Jamie exclaimed with shock
and indignation that was only partially feigned. Glances exchanged,
"Ok, Jamie, what do you say we get some
sleep? Joan and Lisa aren't expecting us to wait up for them,
and I'm really tired." Alan gently pulled the sheets and
quilt up over Jamie's shoulders and then climbed into bed himself.
He reached over and turned off the bedside light. They felt
an occasional light sea breeze coming through the open window,
the soft, comforting weight of the quilt on top of them.
Still wearing Alan's big T-shirt, and tummyside
down as usual, Jamie rested her head on Alan's bare chest. Time
for some pillow talk. "Alan--" A muffled "unh"
from a tired Alan. "Alan, Joan says I'd have made a terrible
schoolgirl." Alan's attention revived at this curious announcement.
"She says that schoolgirls don't get to cuddle and they
have to go right back to their classes and put on a brave face
and tough it out by themselves. Or, at least they did when she
was little. She's right. I cold never have stood that. It's
"Yes, sweetheart, that would be heartless."
It flashed through Alan's mind that in some ways, he was still
getting to know this woman who had slept next to him for so
many years. "But you know, it doesn't matter what kind
of schoolgirl you would have made when you were a kid. Honey,
it's fine to want to snuggle after a spanking. I love cuddling
with you, and I know you need it. There is no one way to be
a schoolgirl, but if you're wondering and want to be one, well
just maybe we'll find out what kind of schoolgirl you'd make
Alan smiled broadly in the dark as he thought
to himself that perhaps in the near future, he wouldn't be the
only one in the family wearing plaid.
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