by Frank Limadere
Andrea Mahony pushed her shopping trolley down the aisles, and browsed the items for sale, before placing them in the trolley. Clarkstown was not a big place, although it did have at least three supermarkets. The one Andrea was in was not the biggest, but it was her preferred place to shop. Working during the week and wanting her Saturday mornings free for tennis meant that the tall, willowy woman with the lustrous mane of chestnut hair did her grocery shopping on Friday evening, so she was appreciative for the extended trading hours on that night. Although the supermarket's owner, Mr Simms, could be a little abrupt, Andrea got on well enough with the man, and as he was one of her clients she found shopping at his establishment a rather pleasant experience.
Andrea owned and ran the town's most unique business, The Spank Shop, and Simms regularly sent his children to her for discipline, and some of his junior staff made the occasional journey to have their bottoms reddened over Andrea's lap for various infringements. This ensured that they were always polite to her, and sometimes she was even given discounts on purchases.
Andrea was trying to decide which brand of biscuits to choose when she became uncomfortably aware that someone was watching her. There was a man to her left, staring at her. It was a rather disconcerting feeling, and she started to wonder if she had a smudge of dirt on her face or something. Out of the corner of her eye she tried to get a good look at her observer without being obvious about it. He was dressed in a business suit and tie, his hair was short and neat, average height and build, he also had a shopping trolley.
Andrea was about to turn and confront him when he spoke. "Andrea? It is Andrea, isn't it?"
Her emerald eyes flashing, Andrea answered coldly, "Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?"
The man looked a little surprised, and now that Andrea could look at him properly there was something familiar about his face.
"It's Michael," he said softly, his face colouring in embarrassment. "Michael Wilson."
Andrea's eyes went wide, and now it was her turn to blush. "Mickey Wilson! Oh my goodness, sweetheart, you're all grown up. You must have been about fourteen the last time I saw you."
"Fifteen," the business suited man corrected her.
"What are you doing here in Clarkstown?"
"We just moved here."
"We?"
"My wife and I. Polly."
"Polly Thatcher? You married Polly Thatcher?"
Michael nodded happily.
"I should have known! The two of you were thick as thieves. Michael, I would love to stop and chat," Andrea said, indicating her partially full trolley, "but I've got to get my shopping finished. Would you like to meet in the coffee shop nearby in about half and hour?"
"That would be fantastic, Miss Andrea."
"Oh, it's just Andrea, or Andie, I'm not your babysitter now, Mickey."
"Polly is with me, too. I know she'll be delighted to reacquaint herself with you."
"So am I with her. See you in thirty."
Michael and his pretty blonde wife, the former Polly Thatcher, were waiting for Andrea in the coffee shop next to the supermarket, by the time the chestnut-haired disciplinarian had completed her shopping and stowed the bags in the boot of her car.
The young couple had mugs of cappuccino sitting in front of them, as Andrea seated herself across from them. Andrea caught the eye of the red-haired, freckle-faced, teenage waitress with the name tag 'Christina' on the chest of her uniform and ordered. "A latte, please, sweetie."
"Yes, Miss Andrea," the girl replied politely, dropping a curtsey before hurrying to fill the order.
"Miss Andrea?" Polly asked, her nose crinkling and her blue eyes sparkling.
"She's a client," Andrea responded. "They find it's best to be on my good side."
"You haven't changed a bit," Michael laughed, sipping his cappuccino.
Andrea shrugged lightly. "Maybe not, but the two of you have. Married and living in Clarkstown, now, I simply must hear everything."
Polly picked up the story. "We've been married for a few years. You know we met in primary school, and I don't think there was ever anyone else for either of us."
To emphasise the point Michael placed his hand over his wife's, and they gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. A smile spread across Andrea's face. She had babysat a number of youngsters as a teenager, and she had to admit that Michael and Polly had always been two of her favourites.
"But Clarkstown?" Andrea asked. "It's a nice place, but not exactly a bustling metropolis."
"To be honest," Michael started. "We've both had enough of that. I got a job with a firm nearby, and we both want to have children."
Polly said, "I've had a career and I'd love kids, but where do you raise them? We looked around at a few places and Clarkstown just seemed ideal. The prices are good, the people are nice, and there's a real sense of community here."
Andrea nodded as the woman spoke, she had pinpointed three things that Andrea had also been impressed with when she first decided to live in the community of Clarkstown.
"Besides, you're here," Michael said.
"You couldn't have known that when you first started looking," Andrea pointed out, thanking Christina as the girl set the latte down in front of her.
"No, we didn't," Polly admitted with a laugh, "but as soon as we heard about The Spank Shop we started to wonder, and then someone said it was run by an Andrea, and we both knew it had to be you."
"Was I really that much of an ogress as a babysitter?" Andrea asked, blowing on her latte to cool it, and then taking a gentle sip.
"No, you were great!" Michael reassured the woman.
"But boy did you like to spank!" Polly exclaimed.
"And you were good at it!" Michael backed his wife.
"I don't know about liking it..." Andrea started to protest.
"You did enjoy it," Polly insisted.
"And that's totally okay," Michael confirmed, "because so do we."
The mouthful of coffee Andrea had just taken, immediately went down the wrong way, and she choked briefly, before regaining her composure, swallowing hard and wiping her eyes with a tissue.
"You what?" she asked incredulous.
"We like spanking each other," the young couple replied with grins.
"That's not really true, Michael," Polly told her husband.
"You don't like it?" Michael asked, his brown eyes growing concerned.
"Of course I do, silly, but what we both really love is when someone else spanks us."
"Oh yes," Michael agreed, his expression becoming slightly dreamy at the thought.
"You enjoy spanking?" Andrea probed.
"Don't you?" Polly asked.
Andrea had to admit there was part of her that definitely did enjoy spanking, both giving and receiving. The level and what she enjoyed about it could vary from spanking to spanking, and it had to do with who and the reason for the chastisement. She nodded silently.
"It's your fault, really," Michael told this chestnut-haired lady across from him.
"My fault?" Andrea asked, her green eyes wide.
"Oh Michael!" Polly scolded her husband, slapping him on the arm. "Don't be so rude! Honestly, young man, when we get home I may have to put you over my knee."
"Ahhhh, promises, promises," Michael sang.
Andrea giggled, they were such an adorable couple.
"What my cheeky husband means, Andie," Polly said as she relaxed around her old babysitter, "is that our interest was awakened over your lap."
"Oh?"
"Well neither of us really liked spankings. They hurt, yours especially, but there was one time when you sat for me and Michael stayed over at my house. That was when we both realized we had an attraction to each other, because of the shared experience."
"You were also so nice about the spankings," Michael continued. "You were pretty too. You spanked hard, but you gave a reason and you were never unfair, you always let us cuddle after, as well."
"Don't forget the hot chocolate," Polly put in. "I always love hot chocolate after a soundly smacked bottom."
"We've always wanted that feeling again, but never been able to find it," Michael said rather wistfully, before sipping his coffee.
"We even visited a couple of professionals, but they just weren't able to create that homey sort of feeling," Polly added.
"Yeah, it was always business with them. We like spanking each other, but it's just not the same without a Miss Andrea to do it," Michael admitted.
"Your shop would be ideal," Polly said, hope in her tone and her eyes.
Andrea sipped her coffee, and looked at the earnest couple across from her.
"Okay, you probably need to know some things about my shop."
Michael and Polly were obviously eager.
"I spank all kinds," Andrea explained. "I have spanked and do spank married couples, but," the faces fell at the word, "I have to have a reason, and 'because we like it' isn't a good enough one I am afraid. There's also some other things to consider. The shop is a business, so no matter that you're old friends, if you come to the shop it's still a business transaction and you'd pay for the privilege, which from what you said isn't what you want. There's also your reputations. I and my staff are discreet, but you will be seen by someone coming in and my clients will talk, especially the adolescents. My clients accept a level of embarrassment for the fact that they visit me, but they know that going in. Clarkstown is a wonderful place to live, but tongues do wag and you really don't want to be spoken about in hushed whispers behind your backs, especially as you have just recently moved here."
"Well, that sucks," Polly said vehemently into her coffee mug.
Looking at the two crestfallen faces across from her the couple, who were in the early thirties, reminded Andrea of nothing more than the teenagers they had been the last time she'd babysat them, and an idea came to her.
"I may have an alternative," she said, and Michael and Polly's ears pricked up. "Seeing as you're old friends I think we can make some special arrangements here."
Andrea leafed calmly through the magazine in her lap, and looked up occasionally when there was a louder sob from the curly haired girl with the brightly glowing bottom that currently occupied one of the corners in her parlour. The chestnut-haired woman smiled gently at the sight, and then her eyes fell on the hairbrush that lay bristle side up on her coffee table. Maybe spanking the recently married young woman with the very brush that had been her wedding gift to the happy couple was a little mean, but Andrea felt it had a nice symmetry to it.
She looked down at the neatly written sheets of paper by her with the line 'I will not enter Aunty Andrea's office without an appointment' covering them. Setting Millicent Campbell lines as well as a spanking had been something Andrea felt would reinforce how childish the young woman's actions just prior to her marriage had been.
The phone rang and Andrea picked it up quickly to hear the dulcet tones of her teenage receptionist, Kimberley Kennedy. "It's 4:30 ma'am," Kimberley trilled. "You wanted me to remind you so you could finish up a bit early today."
"I did indeed, sweetheart. I think Millie has cooled down sufficiently, so I'll just send her out to you to settle up. You can close up the office without me, can't you, darling?"
"Oh yes, ma'am. See you tomorrow," the girl said cheerfully as she hung up.
Andrea pulled her red convertible into the patterned concrete driveway, and gave the neatly manicured garden with the bright flowers in the beds an approving look.
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