textfiles/sex/EROTICA/C/caitlin.txt

Caitlin Austin sat sprawled in the lawn chair she had pulled to the very
edge of the pool.  It was an Adirondack chair...you know, one of those
wooden ones that dot the lawns of proper eastern families during the hot,
sticky summers.  She was, with the fatalistic air only a seventeen year
old girl can affect, bored.

"Aunt Meg!!" she bellowed toward the open french doors at the back of the
house.  "Come on, Aunt Meg!!! Where _are_ you??  I need something!!  It's
too _hot_ out here!" she whined, looking irritably at the empty doorway. 
Her aunt appeared, none too pleased by the summons.  Her niece,
headstrong, beautiful, and far too full of herself, was hers for the
summer.  

She had made the offer last winter, when her brother John seemed
overwhelmed by the task of caring for Cait alone after her mother's
unseemly departure.  No one in the family would talk about Catherine and
her Costa Rican pool-man lover, and, hemmed in by the shameful silence,
Cait had been acting out.  That's what the social workers and the
psychologists called it anyway..."acting out."  Her grades had slipped,
she had been caught smoking twice, and she had, against her father's
express orders, been seeing the Allen boy who lived on Woodward near the
old Benson place.  He was nice enough, in a lanky, prickly sort of way,
but John had never trusted him, and his family was, of course,  strictly
below the salt.  Meg's place for the summer, an hour removed from the
temptations of the city, and with a private tutor to catch her up on her
classes, seemed the perfect answer for the pouty Cait. John had gratefully
air-kissed his sister's proffered cheek, and accepted with a sigh.  Now
Meg wasn't certain that she hadn't bitten off more than she could chew.

She picked up Cait's overstuffed bag from the corner into which her niece
had tossed it, and stode out toward the pool.  She wasn't tall, only 5'4",
and certainly wasn't the rail-thin fashion of the day, but she was
enormously appealing to all in her circle.  A pragmatic, funny,
unpretentious woman, she was everything the rest of her overstuffed family
was not.  Cait liked her enormously...a fact that did not prevent her from
treating her Aunt as rudely as she treated everyone else.

"Is this what you are looking for, Caity?" said Meg, coming up on the back
of the chair.  Cait wheeled around in the chair, facing her aunt with the
corners of her mouth turned down.  "Well, yes, but you might have been
quicker about it...it's broiling out here and I am roasting to death! I've
been calling you for _hours_!!" she huffed, snatching the bag from Meg's
outstretched hand.  "You're welcome!" said Meg, turning on her heel.  "No,
please, Aunt Meg...I...I'm sorry...please sit with me for a bit?"  Meg
turned around again, her frown easing.  Her niece looked radiant and
apologetic at the same time.  She took after her profligate mother, who
was, if nothing more substantial, beautiful.  Cait was close to 5'8", with
long, supple, tanned legs that eventually disappeared, today, into a tiny
pair of cotton red-and-white checked shorts.  She wore a matching top that
was tied under her firm, rose-tipped breasts, leaving her taut, tanned
stomach bare.

Her face looked as if it had been painted by a pre-Raphaelite...a baby
face, smooth and full, but with an excellent jaw and high cheekbones.
Her eyes were a coppery brown, and her hair...well.  Her hair was her
chief vanity...lush and chestnut brown, thick and naturally wavy, it swung
heavily to the apex of the high, round cheeks of her bottom.

Cait fished around in the bag as she spoke, finally producing a length of
red scarf which she twisted around and around, finally gathering her heavy
hair into a tail at the nape of her neck, and securing it with the twisted
scarf.  "Ooohhh, that's better!" she exclaimed, feeling a cool breeze on
her neck.

"Caity," her aunt began, "You know your tutor is due here today, and..."
"Oh, yes, Aunt Meg, I know...I am really looking forward to it.  I do need
to catch up on my studies!" she said, a shade too brightly, Meg thought. 
Her brow knitted quizzically. "Really, Cait?  Well.  That's good to hear. 
Hmmm.  I thought I would leave you two the front parlour in which to
study, instead of the library.  There's a breeze through there that should
make things easier. All right?"  "Oh, yes!  That sounds perfect!  And if
it's ok, I'd like to ask Martine to make up a pitcher of her lemonade. 
And you...you're still going out this afternoon, aren't you, Aunt Meg?" 
Cait looked at her, her copper eyes wide and innocent.  "Yes, that's fine"
Meg said faintly, trying to determine if there was something wrong here,
"and yes, I am going out.  I imagine you and your tutor will be busy for a
couple of hours at least.  I told the placement office to expect three
hours' work three days a week, and they recommended a woman with excellent
credentials.  You should be in good academic shape in no time!"  Cait
beamed happily at her aunt, who rose to go back to the house, still
puzzling over this change in her prickly niece.

Cait put her hand over her mouth and snickered at her aunt's retreating
back.  They were all _so_ stupid, she thought.  It hadn't taken much to
call the placement office herself and cancel the tutor...she sounded
enough like her aunt to pull it off, the dummy hadn't even questioned her.
 Then the call to Eddy...from the pay phone in town, of course, so there'd
be no bill...and she was guaranteed at least three hours of bliss, today
anyway.  She'd have to see how often her aunt could be persuaded to go out
on a "tutor" day, and she'd have to study herself a little, she supposed, 
to make it look good...

Scarcely 90 minutes later, the front door slammed open, and Meg thundered
into the entryway, nearly running down a startled Martine in the process. 
"CAIT!!" she hollered, then grabbed Martine's arm and spoke quietly,
through clenched teeth.  "Where is my niece, Martine?"
"Upstairs, Madame," replied the quaking woman.  Meg released her, and, too
impatient to wait for the elevator, ran up the stairs to the third floor. 
She needed only to see the look on Martine's face to know that Cait was
not in the second floor library.  Her niece had been too preoccupied to
hear her shout.  When Meg burst into the large, airy bedroom, Cait sat
up...or tried to...entangled as she was in the spindly arms and legs of
what had to be the Allen boy.  "Ohmigod" he kept repeating, fumbling for
his glasses on the bedside table, clutching the sheets to his ribs.  Cait
slid out from beneath him and stood, half terrified, half defiant, and
stark naked, facing her aunt.  "You were supposed to be OUT!" she said
plaintively.  "I WAS out, Caitlin.  I stopped at the placement office on
my way to my appointment, in order to pay the balance of your tuition
charges.  I was told that they had been preparing my refund check for the
deposit, since I had cancelled so promptly.  CANCELLED, Caitlin??"

She backed away from her advancing aunt.  Meg had grabbed the wide-backed
antique hairbrush from the dresser as she came toward her niece, and was
tapping it against her thigh.  As she drew abreast of the bed, she noticed
the still quaking Eddy Allen half standing, half kneeling, wrapped in the
wrinkled sheet.  She grabbed his skinny arm and pulled him off the bed,
whacking his small round behind with the hairbrush as she gave him orders.
 "You <smack> get out of here <spank spank> and don't let me <spank smack>
hear about you <spank> coming anywhere near my niece <spank smack whap>
ever again, DO YOU HEAR ME???? <spank smack whack splatt>   He jumped and
twisted frantically, trying to get away, his bottom crimson with spanks. 
"Yes, yes, ma'am, no ma'am, owwww owwwww please, I won't ma'am, please let
me gooooooo..." She released him and he fled, grabbing his clothes as he
ran.

She turned her attention to her niece, who was cowering in the corner of
the bedroom.  "I...I'm sorry, Aunt Meg, really, but Daddy won't let me..I
mean..I love Eddy, I do, and I know that..." You don't know anything,
young lady.  You are a silly, spoiled child, and I am about to see that
you learn a lesson you won't forget.  You are going to get the spanking of
your life, Caitlin Braybrooke Austin.  And when I have finished paddling
your fanny, you are going to get a haircut, a nice swim, and a change of
wardrobe that will help you remember that you are still a child!!"  "A
HAIRcut?" Cait screeched, putting her hands to her head. "What are you
TALKING about, Aunt Meg...you can't cut my hair, please, you CAN'T!!"  "Oh
yes, I can, young lady," she said, grabbing Cait with her iron grip.  "You
think you are so irresistable in your tiny shorts and your flowing
tresses...well, we are not about to let you end up like Catherine did, and
I am going to see to it right now!!"

Grimly, Meg led the wiggling, crying, protesting girl down the stairs,
still holding the hairbrush.  They stopped once, on the ground floor, to
take Martine's big sewing shears from her basket, and for Meg to give the
woman some hurried instructions. Cait howled even louder when she saw the
shears, fighting frantically, begging and screaming to be let off.  Meg
shook her like a rag doll and continued dragging her naked niece right out
the french doors and onto the lawn.  

Meg took one of the stools from the front of the cabana and sat down,
pulling Cait right over her knees.  Cait was nearly insensible with
crying, terrified of her furious aunt and not knowing exactly what was
coming.  She'd never been spanked in her life, and the one Meg had given
Eddy was the first one she'd ever seen.  But her hair? Her HAIR?  She was
sick to her stomach with dread.  "No, Aunty Meg, please...please...oh god
I am so sorry, I'll study hard, I will...I won't see Eddy for a while,
I'll be a good girl, only pleeeeease don't do this, please!!!!"  Meg
smiled grimly at being called "Aunty"...something Cait hadn't done since
she was in sixth grade.  Well, when she got through with her, Cait would
feel like a sixth grader again!

Meg arranged the squalling girl so that her bottom was high and upthrust,
bending her over her left thigh and clamping her right leg across both of
her niece's. Cait had to grab the crossbar of the stool to balance.  Meg
wrapped her arm around Cait's waist and nodded to Martine, who had come
from the house carrying a small pile of clothes of her own.  Martine was
close to Cait's size, though considerably more conservative.  She put the
clothes and a large towel on the poolside table, moving the shears to the
top of the pile.

"All right, young lady, let's begin the first part of today's lesson!!" 
Meg lifted her arm and brought the hairbrush cracking down on the crest of
Cait's left bottom cheek.  The firm flesh whitened, then reddened, and the
girl screeched at the firey sting.   "NOOOOOOOOOOO, oh god it stings
owwwwww owwwwww oooohhhhh nooooo, please no more, please no more Aunty
Meg, nooooooo!!!!"  she wailed and twisted her hips, trying to evade the
rain of spanks her aunt was laying on her lush bottom.  With her legs
pinned, she couldn't kick, couldn't get much leverage to avoid the painful
spanks.  "I'm going <spank spank spank> to teach you a lesson you're
<spank spank spank> NEVER going to forget <spank spank spank spank> young
lady!!!!"  The hairbrush came down again and again, Cait screaming she
would be good and had learned her lesson, her face red and streaked with
tears, her nose running, her hair plastered to her cheeks.  When it was
finally over, Cait lay limp and sobbing over her aunt's knee.  "I'm sorry,
Aunty Meg, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." was all she could say.  "Shhh, I know
you are, Caity, and I am sorry I had to spank you so hard.  But you are
going to have to learn your place, young lady, and this is where you are
going to learn.  Now you stay in position, or I will start spanking again,
do you understand?"  

"Yes, ma'am," Caity sniffed, puzzled.  She was still bent over, her hair
spilling down over her head into a chestnut pool on the concrete.  "Now,
Martine!" commanded Meg.  The woman picked up the shears and the towel and
stood at Cait's head. She took the hairbrush from Meg's hand and brushed
Cait's hair in long, smooth strokes, until it fell, shining and even, all
around.  In an instant, Cait realized what was about to happen and shook
her head violently, renewing her stuggle to escape her aunt's hold.  "No,
Aunty Meg, no, oh god please no, please, anything but this, please...." 
Meg took the hairbrush from Martine and spanked her niece another dozen
times, eliciting more wails and pleas for mercy. When she handed the brush
back to Martine, Cait lay sobbing quietly, resigned to her punishment.

Martine stooped to the level of Cait's head, lifted her heavy hair and
spread the towel on the concrete beneath it, then gathered the silky
curtain into her hand.  Cait tensed, and Meg slapped her bottom with her
open palm.  "Martine is an excellent seamstress, Cait,  I am certain she
will do a better job than I might have done.  You may thank her.  NOW,
Caitlin!"  "Thank you, Martine," the miserable girl whispered.  Martine
smiled and said "You are welcome, missy," softly.

The shears sliced through Cait's hair with a hiss like a sword bade
through air, and a large swatch fell to the towel.  Cait groaned and
cried, but the threat of her aunt's hand on her blazing bottom kept her
still.  Martine worked carefully, slicing and laying down the thick tails
of hair, slicing again, pausing now and again to brush. She had to move
her hand quickly more than once to avoid the streams of tears and the
runny nose, but at last she was finished.  Cait's head felt so light she
was dizzy.  Her ears were roaring with the rush of blood, and her aunt
steadied her as she stood up. Martine fussed over her, brushing and
fluffing with her fingers.  Because of Cait's position for the cut, the
front and sides were very short, the hair tapering to cover just the nape
of her neck in back. Meg's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at her
niece.  With the tresses gone, her hair a soft, short, shining cap of
chestnut, the girl looked many years younger.  "Time to cool off that
bottom, young lady!"

Meg moved her niece backward toward the pool.  Cait shrieked as she lost
her footing and fell in with a huge splash.  In a moment, she was grateful
for the cool water on her blistered behind.  She was sorry when Meg
motioned her out after a minute or two, but she dared not disobey.  She
kept feeling her head, fresh tears starting each time she felt the stubby
ends of her beautiful hair.  How the kids would laugh when they saw this! 
Miserable, she climbed out of the pool, and stood submissively as her aunt
and Martine toweled her off and began to dress her.  She shuddered as Meg
held out a plain, full-cut pair of white cotton briefs, but one look at
her aunt's face convinced her to step in and pull them up.  Next, the bra,
plain white cotton again, full-cut, three hooks in back.  A slip...a
SLIP?? She sighed and put it on, followed by a pale blue cotton dress of
Martine's that had a little round collar and buttons down the front, had
little puff sleeves, and came to her knees.  A sensible pair of
espadrilles, her own watch...and...what was this? She picked it up from
the table and looked at her aunt inquiringly.  "It's a barrette," Meg
said, taking the piece of blue plastic shaped like a bow. "In fact, it's
one of yours.  You left it here once years ago when you were in sixth
grade and spent a week with me, do you remember?"  Cait didn't, really,
but she said nothing.  She sat obediently in the Adirondack chair while
her aunt brushed and brushed the shining cap of hair until it dried in the
sun, chattering all the while about good behaviour and lessons learned.
When her hair was dry, Meg pulled the top hair over to the side and
fastened it with the barrette.  She took the girl's chin in her hand and
kissed her quickly.  "Let's go in, Cait.  I want to introduce you to your
tutor.  She should be here by now. We're going to start the summer all
over again, Caity, right now!  Understand?"  "Yes, ma'am," replied the
chastened Cait, still walking a bit stiffly.

In the entry way stood Mrs. Cullen.  Cait winced when she saw her aunt
shake the woman's hand...and pass her the hairbrush.