Neighbors by Naomi Darvell

Until she was 17, Marjorie's father punished her with frequent spankings and with occasional hard switchings-- all punishments administered on a bare bottom. She did not especially resent these punishments, knowing that it had been difficult to raise her alone. She always submitted obediently when her father decided to spank her; and when sent to cut switches she always chose stout ones.

One afternoon, as she went into the orchard with the pruning shears, she saw Nicholas, who lived in the house next door. Nicholas was a year or two older: sixteen at the time of this story.

'What are you doing, Marjorie?' he asked.

'Don't worry,' she said. 'I'm not going to harm the trees.'

Marjorie thought about going back into the house, and returning later to cut switches. Nicholas, however, looked curious enough that she imagined he might just wait until she returned. She went to the nearest plum tree and reached up for a branch.

'What are you going to do with those things, Marjorie? Would you like me to help you?' Nicholas was following close behind her.

Marjorie turned, switches in hand, and considered. 'Should I tell you? Oh, why not? My father's going to beat me with these.'

'Jesus Christ! That's terrible!'

"Oh, it's not so bad,' Marjorie said. 'Haven't you ever been beaten?'

'Not at home,' said Nicholas. 'At school, yes, slippered and caned. But even the canes at school are thin compared with those things.'

'It depends on how they're used, I suppose,' Marjorie said.

Nicholas looked at her unbelievingly and then suddenly said: 'Show me! Show me how they're used.'

Marjorie laughed, 'Sure. Why not?'

'Do you bend over or lie down?'

'I lie flat on the bed.'

As soon as Marjorie answered, Nicholas was on the ground, face down in the rather deep grass. With a quick motion he undid his trousers and pulled them down, along with his underpants.

Marjorie thought she probably would have been able to whip him quite hard over his clothes; but the sight of his naked buttocks made her pause. They were more attractive than she had expected: muscular and well-developed, but with touchingly pale and delicate looking skin. She also reflected that if she beat him hard he would be concerned about her own beatings-- concerned enough perhaps to tell someone. She didn't really want that complication.

She stood at a careful distance from Nicholas and, selecting the longest switch, started to whip his bottom: not bringing the switch straight down across both buttocks (as in fact her father did) but flicking with the end of the switch .

Nicholas at first hardly seemed to feel it. He lay there propped up on his elbows, looking as if he were thinking about some other subject.

After a while, however, his bottom started moving: subtly as first, then more than could really be accounted for by the whip's action, even if it had begun to hurt.

Confused, Marjorie stopped.

'You can't stop now,' Nicholas said, his voice sounding odd and strained.

Marjorie resumed whipping, and the big masculine bottom moved increasingly fast, expanding and contracting, until finally Nicholas said 'Aaaaaah,' and stopped moving.

Marjorie turned tactfully away as he replaced his trousers.

Four hours later, Nicholas watched from his bedroom window as the lights began going out at Marjorie's house. Why hadn't he thought of this before? he supposed that Marjorie just hadn't seemed very interesting or attractive to him: she seemed like just another of the scruffy little kids in their high-priced housing estate.

'Wonderful!' he said to himself as Marjorie came into her bedroom. It was about as visible as possible, from where Nicholas stood.

Marjorie, her body partly visible through the window, removed her dress and pulled a nightie over her head. Her movements seemed slow and deliberate, and Nicholas wondered whether she was in pain from whipping. But then her father appeared from the hallway, carrying the bundle of switches. At a few words from him, Marjorie lay down on the bed, which was low enough so that she disappeared from Nicholas's view. Her father bent towards her and fussed about a little, no doubt uncovering her bottom.

'Oh, fuck me!' Nicholas exclaimed out loud as the beating started. Marjorie had tricked him. Her father did not sting her bottom gently with the switch, as she had done to him. He raised his arm quite high with each stroke and brought the switch straight down. It was bad enough that Nicholas seriously considered running next door and trying to put a stop to it. But he was in no physical condition even to leave his room.

Marjorie's father broke two switches, and replaced them, before he finally sat on the bed and, to judge from his gentle demeanor as he leaned down, comforted his daughter.

Masturbation, that night, was excruciatingly delightful. Nicholas was aroused and ashamed of his own arousal; he brought himself off thinking first of Marjorie's bare bottom, as he imagined it, under the whip; and then of his own whipping earlier, when he had exposed his bottom and let Marjorie whip him to his first orgasm of the day.

The next morning Nicholas watched Marjorie's house, but she never came out. After lunch, he went and knocked; but the housekeeper told him Marjorie was 'not available.' Nicholas went back to the orchard, near where she had whipped him the day before, and sat on a fallen tree, doing absolutely nothing, hoping that she might hear of his visit and think to come looking for him.

'I saw you walking over between our houses,' she said, when she appeared after half an hour. 'Did you come to visit me?'

Nicholas, still sitting, took hold of Marjorie's hand and pulled her in close, so that she was standing between his legs.

'Why didn't you tell me how bad it really was?' he said. 'I watched through the window, and I couldn't believe how hard he beat you.'

'Do you look through my window a lot?' Marjorie asked.

'Only last night,' Nicholas said. 'I'd never thought of it before.'

'How much can you see?'

'Only bits and pieces,' he said absently. He was running his hand up the back of her thigh, feeling through her dress. 'How does it feel, today? Does it still hurt?'

'Mmmmmm... a little.'

They leaned against each other silently for a while, each sensing the other's intoxication.

Marjorie leaned over and whispered into Nicholas's ear: 'Would you like to see? I think there are still marks.'

She had volunteered quite boldly; but when the time came she hid her head in her arms while he lowered her panties.

'Oh, Marjorie!' he said, 'It's... beautiful!' In a huge rush he opened his trousers, just in time to grab his penis and direct most of his orgasmic fluid onto her naked flesh.

'Oh, my God!' he said a moment later. 'I'm so sorry, Marjorie!'

She turned over, and got her first view of a real adult penis, uncircumcized and still semi-erect. Nicholas had covered his face with his hands, and made no attempt to hide himself.

Marjorie sat down close to Nicholas and embraced him. 'Please stop apologizing,' she said. She took hold of his hands and uncovered his face.

'I really couldn't help it,' he said, still miserably embarrassed.

'That's all right,' Marjorie said. 'Sometimes I can't help it either. What's the matter?' she went on as he looked amazed. 'Didn't you think girls did it?'

'To be honest, I didn't really know,' he said.

She was still holding both his hands in hers. 'I did it last night,' she told him. 'After the... afterwards. I thought I would be too sore but I wasn't at all. Usually I just cry myself to sleep; but last night when Daddy was talking to me afterwards I just wanted him to leave so that I could think about...'

Marjorie's skirt rustled like it was made of paper. Nicholas, still with his trousers open, pulled her almost onto his lap but not quite.

'Tell me what you thought about.' Nicholas's voice was muffled by her hair.

'I thought about you... yesterday. What we did, and how you looked. It was so exciting to see you take your trousers down. And I hadn't even seen...'

'What did you do exactly?' Nicholas asked.

Marjorie sighed and snuggled in closer to him. 'I just pulled up my nightie and rubbed myself. It happened quite fast, although not as fast as it happened with you, just now.

'Will you show me that, too?' Nicholas asked.

'I'll try,' she said. 'I might be too self-conscious.'

Nicholas helped her pull up her skirt. She insisted on keeping her knickers on, just sticking her hand under them; he, after grumbling a bit about the disparity, agreed.

'It's no good,' she said after a few minutes. 'I can't do it with you watching.'

Nicholas put his arms around Marjorie and kissed her. He gently drew her down so that they lay on the ground facing each other.

'Oh, that feels wonderful,' Marjorie said, as Nicholas slipped his thigh between hers.