Spanking Samantha (or Ginger's Big Boast)

“Oh, Ginger, that’s awful! I hope she apologized.”

“Well, it took some doing, but YEAH!” A wry grin crept across her face as she scarfed a nacho from the appetizer platter. “I’d say she apologized. Several times, as I recall.”

“What did she say? Samantha can be so – I don’t know – oblivious. I mean, I like your sister and all, but sometimes she just gets so wrapped up in her job and the condo board and that whole country club thing…”

“Yeah, Ellie, she’s busy. We’re all busy, but what’s more important? Another tennis tournament or getting your mother to the doctor? Mom waited around for 45 minutes and she finally had to take a cab. And I had to burn half a vacation day to pick her up.”

“Oh, that would have ticked me off, too. So what did Sam have to say for herself?”

“Oh, that’s the worst part. She gives me this exasperated my-perfect-life-is-more-important-than-your-crappy-little-office-job look, and I just decide HEY! This is about Mom. I don’t need to hear about how I should have gone to college and I should get a life and blah blah blah. YOU fucked up, Sam, and YOU need to own up to it. Excuse my French. Anyway, I let her have it.”

“Face to face?”

Ginger smiled. These were her best friends. What the hell? “More like hand-to-heinie.”

Kim looked at Molly. Molly looked at Yolanda. Yolanda looked at Heather. “Huh?”

Ginger sliced a spring roll. “Palm to posterior.” Dead silence. “I’m out of alliterations, girls.” She leaned over the table with a mock-serious conspiratorial look. “Sam might be the big sister, but she’s not too old to learn some consideration and some manners. So I took her to school. Across my lap.”

“Oh – my – God!”

“Here you go, ladies. Who has the red wine?” The waiter saw the astonished look on five slack-jawed faces. “Would you… Would you like me to come back in a bit?”

“Uh – no, Paul. Ginger was just…um, telling us an interesting story. I’m the cabernet.”

Paul passed around the drinks. “And a martini up with an olive for you, Molly. Salads will be a few minutes.”

As he returned to the kitchen, Molly quaffed her drink like lemonade. “Whew! Now HE has a first-class butt!”

“That’s why you never want to go to Bennigan’s.”

“Yeah, Ginge, but I’m not sure I want to think about Samantha’s tush. Not my type.”

“Well, don’t be so surprised. She’s had this coming.”

Six women. Six simultaneous mental images. Samantha’s perfect tennis skirt at her ankles. Her perfect haircut mussed. Her perfect bikini tan up in the air.

Six women stealing glances. Sitting. Waiting.

Ellie couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Phffft!” she snorted. Yolanda grinned. Heather hiccuped. The dam burst. They all howled.

“Well, yeah, I guess she has! Oh, god, I’m sorry to laugh about a 35-year-old woman getting spanked, but…”

“…(gasp) Air! (gasp) I need air! That is TOO rich! You said it took some doing, Ginger, but this ain’t what I had in mind.”

“Shh. Shh. Everyone’s looking at us.”

“Yeah! Quiet down or we’ll all get a spanking.”

They howled again. They dabbed their eyes. “Oh, man. I can’t lose this picture of Sam in THE POSITION. How did you do it?”

“Well, I just said THAT’S IT! and I yanked her wrist and she tumbled right over. That little tennis skirt slipped right off, no problem, and I thought: let’s do this right.”

“Oh god, you spanked her on the bare?”

“KIM!”

“Just asking. What did she say?”

“Let me see. I think it was WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN’T DO THIS! LET ME UP RIGHT NOW! I’LL CALL THE GODDAMN COPS!”

“Wow! You went through with it anyway?”

“Go to the cops? You think she could stand to let anyone know she got a naughty-girl spanking on her bare bottom? That Samantha Gail Parker, wife of William for the First National Bank, organizer of the Kiwanis charity auction, winner of the Lakeshore Country Club President’s cup, and Fourth District Republican candidate for City Council … got punished by her little who-does-she-think-she-is sister?”

“Oh jeez, right. So she just had to take it.”

“Sort of. I mean, she was such a big baby about it. Oh oh oh it HURTS! Oh oh oh I’m SORRY. Oh oh oh STOP please STOP. I’ll be good I promise I promise I will I mean it. Oweee!”

“Oh Ginge, you’re making that part up.”

“Nope. It’s all true. Sammie got a lecture and Sammie got a spankin’. I don’t care any more if she’s 35. If pulls another stunt, it’s over you go. Pants down, ankles up. Time for a dancing lesson.”

“Huh?”

“KIM!”

“Well, sorry, but I never got spanked. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Kim, spankings hurt. People try to get away, but they can’t because they’re being held down. So they squirm and kick…”

“Well, I know that much.”

“…and it’s called a lap dance. Smack smack smack. Ow ow ow. Cha cha cha!”

“Ooh! Shh! Here comes Paul!’

“Here are your salads, ladies. Blue cheese? Heather?”

NEXT TIME: Samantha joins the group. Will she be mortified that they know? Or is a certain younger sibling in a mess of trouble?