The Babysitter, Part Six

PART ONE

Summer. Finally.

And not just any summer. The next two months were going to be amazing for a number of reasons. One, I had just graduated high school, which meant none of the usual AP work that was required before the first day of school. College would present its own challenges, of course, but I could at least take a huge breath in the meantime. Two, our parents were going to be out of town for eight full weeks on a business trip rounded off with a vacation at the tail end. While I wasn’t exactly a party girl, it would still be nice to have some extra freedom.

Paige was the only complication. My step-sister and I were the same age, and absolutely nothing alike. At first, I had been excited to finally have a sibling. That is, until we actually started living together. She and I were polar opposites, to put it lightly, and I was the one who was always stuck dealing with her since our parents were rarely around. I didn’t mind getting her in trouble for ‘borrowing’ my homework, or for breaking curfew, or for plenty of other transgressions. However, our parents were usually the ones who handled the punishments. There was no way Paige would listen to me, and it’s not like I could be calling our parents every day for help.

As much as my irresponsible sister often felt like my responsibility, this was also my summer. Maybe it would be better if we just stayed out of the other’s way, and coexisted to the best of our ability. My friends could have the main floor, and she could have the furnished attic, or vice versa. I could always keep a journal of anything inappropriate she did in our parents’ absence, and report the notable ones when they got back.

Of course, it was difficult to ignore Paige when she was already messing with my plans on the first day of summer break.

It took three back to back phone calls to get her to pick up, and she didn’t answer the last one until the fifth ring or so. “What’s up, Alyssa?” she asked, “Are you dying or something?”

“No. Paige, you said you’d pick me up at four. It’s nearly 4:20.” Unfortunately, we only had one car between the two of us, and it had gradually defaulted to being ‘hers.’ I had so many after school activities that I usually got a ride from a friend. The more I didn’t drive our car, the more ownership Paige felt, which made things frustrating when I eventually did need it. Like after my ballet class, where I didn’t really know any of the other girls that well. I offered to drop my sister off at home first, but she insisted that it would be easier for her to drive and swing by the studio on the way back to the house. Except, as expected, she clearly didn’t keep track of time, and now I was stranded without a ride.

“Ooh, 4:20?” she giggled, “That means it’s time for something else. Sorry, you’ll have to wait a little longer. Actually, why don’t you just get someone else to drive you? I’m comfortable, and I really don’t want to put a bra back on.”

“Paige, I’m the last one here! Come on, it’ll just take a minute.”

“Hmm, let me think. How about . . . No. You can walk.”

“What? No! Paige, it’s hot, and-”

“Tough, little sis. Use the time to think about how you should stop being a stuck-up brat and an obnoxious tattletale. Bye, Alyssa!”

“Wait-”

Before I could get past the first word, I heard the low beep of her ending the call. Groaning in frustration, I re-dialed twice to no avail. After sending a very pointed text that included a threat to get our parents involved, I leaned against the nearest wall and scrolled through my contacts to see if there was anyone I could think of that might be both free at the moment and close enough to the studio. Aside from it being hot, I was also going to tell Paige that it would be about an hour’s walk back to the house. Thankfully, I had shorts and a tank top to wear over my leotard, but I’d still rather avoid such a long commute.

And yet, that’s what I ended up doing. I figured it made more sense, as otherwise I would potentially spend even more time in the sun calling various friends and waiting for them to get their shoes on and drive over.

Paige’s parting words echoed in my head as I began the walk. That attitude towards me was exactly why there was no way I’d ever succeed in getting her to listen to anything I said. My driver’s license said that I was five feet tall, but the truth was that I hadn’t even made it that far yet. Standing at a painfully under average 4’11 and ¾, pulling off ‘intimidating’ was an impossible task, especially against my sister who seemed to grow another inch every year. Even when I wore heels and she was barefoot, Paige towered over me. Her body was a lot more womanly as well, while I was stuck looking like a tween who had barely started developing. It was fine at school, as my nice outfits worked wonders in offsetting my unfortunately tiny body, but ballet was a prime example of times when I had a lot less going for me. In just a leotard and with pinned up hair, I was constantly mistaken for one of the younger girls any time the studio hired a new teacher or assistant. And, while my classmates respected me and didn’t care about my size, the same couldn’t be said for my sister. She was only a month older than me, but acted like it was years thanks to the way she looked in comparison.

Silver lining, there were advantages to being a small dancer. So far, that was about the only perk I had been able to find as the shortest person I knew.

Little did I know, however, that my size was about to work against me in a way I never would have imagined.


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PART TWO

By the time I got home, I was in no mood to deal with Paige.

While I had cooled off mentally, the same couldn’t be said about my body. It’s not like I could just wear my leotard and nothing else in public, and the ballet studio had already been locked by the time I realized I was stranded with no ride. Stripping down naked outside obviously wasn’t an option, so I had to put on my street clothes over the leotard and suffer through the summer heat. There was some shade to be found here and there, but two miles was still two miles.

My sister’s door was open upstairs, but I didn’t bother. She would just dismissively wave off my complaints, and my time was better spent taking a shower and maybe grabbing the keys so I could head to my friend’s place earlier than planned before Paige could claim the car for herself again. Ugh, except she probably had the car keys in her purse or somewhere else in her room. Demanding them would start an argument, and politely asking for them would just reinforce the idea that it was HER car, rather than ours.

I hadn’t even gotten fully undressed when yet another inconvenience added to the day’s seemingly never ending list. The doorbell rang. “Paige!” I exclaimed. There was no way I was about to open the front door in just a leotard; plus not even the pins in my hair had kept my red locks from getting a little sweaty from the long, hot walk. “Can you get that?” I instantly winced in regret. Why had I asked? That never worked with her.

“Get it yourself, ‘Lyssa!” she called back. Even with my bedroom door muffling her voice a bit, it was easy to make out the usual presumptuous tone. I was the responsible sister, which meant she could be lazy and assume I’d do stuff like this. “It’s probably some scam artist, anyway.”

Probably. When you weren’t actively waiting on something or someone to arrive, it was almost always some salesman trying to pitch something and wasting twenty minutes of your life despite the constant ‘no, thank you’s’ said again and again.

But Paige and I were in charge of the house for the next eight weeks. What if it was actually something important?

Another ring of the doorbell caused me to groan in frustration. “Paige, come on!” I exclaimed. Swinging my door open so she could hear me more clearly, I said, “I’m not dressed. Just get the door, okay?”

“Then put some clothes on! It’s not like you have anything to hide, anyway.”

“PAIGE.”

A third ring.

“I’m comfy, sis. And I’m still not wearing a bra,” she said, not even making the effort to turn her music down, “Seriously, it’s fine. They’ll go away eventually.”

Another ring.

“COMING!!!” I yelled. My earlier frustrations with Paige were starting to resurface now that she was being as unhelpful as ever, and the time between the doorbell button being pushed was getting shorter and shorter. The same could be said about my temper. Storming down the hall, unfairly projecting my annoyance at my sister towards the impatient person at our front door, I practically had to bite my tongue to keep from loudly swearing in response to the fifth doorbell ring.

Why did I always have to do everything in this house?!

Fantasy Alyssa would yank the door open and scream ‘WHAT?!’ to the person on the other side. The real version of myself, however, simply took a breath before placing her hand on the doorknob. I just hadn’t had a chance to vent about the unfair walk home to my best friend yet, which was why I was so pent up. The only way I survived life with my step-sister was by bitching about her to whoever would listen, since aiming my anger directly towards Paige just caused her to giggle and pat me on the head.

Opening the door before a sixth ring cut through the house, I found myself face to face with a tall brunette girl. Maybe in college, if I had to guess. “Can I help you?” I asked. She had a backpack and a duffel bag with her, rather than a clipboard. That was a good sign.

“You must be Miley.” Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped past me and into the house. “About time. It’s rude to keep people waiting.”

“Umm.” The last thing I expected was a girl with a more patronizing tone than Paige. Also, what the fuck? This wasn’t her house; she couldn’t just waltz in like she owned the place. “No. I’m Alyssa. Who are you, exactly?”

“Nice try, Miley. I heard about that trick already. What, was it babysitter number three who circled the neighborhood for an hour after being sent away with fake directions?” Her duffel bag landed with a heavy thump on the wooden floor below, and she placed a hand on her hip. “I’m Noelle. And if it saves us a little time, I’m not an idiot. So, let’s try this again. You must be Miley.”

After a long moment of silent confusion, things clicked into place. Miley. The thirteen year old brat who lived down the street.

The embarrassing part was, I wasn’t even insulted that I was being mistaken for a girl her age. It happened enough at the studio, so of course the same thing was happening right now when I was only wearing my leotard. “No.” Rolling my eyes, I explained, “Miley lives three doors down. I can show you her house, if you want.”

“Right. So you can sneak off or run away? No, thanks. I already had my exercise today, although I’m not below chasing you down if I have to.”

I just sighed. “You’re not listening. Look. Noelle, was it? I’m not Miley; I’m her neighbor. Call her parents if you don’t believe me.”

“Hmm,” Noelle looked me up and down with a confident smirk, “Pass. I’d rather just deal with you myself.”


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PART THREE

Noelle was barely a year or two older than me, but her height made her all kinds of daunting as she looked at me like I was actually troublesome little Miley.

This was NOT good. In just my ballet leotard, I knew I looked nothing like my more put together self, especially since I hadn’t had the chance to shower after a grueling lesson and an annoyingly long walk. Normally, I’d just flash my school ID or driver’s license and that would be the end of it. All those things were upstairs, however, since I had rushed down here to answer the door. And the distrustful brunette before me didn’t seem like she was the type to give me the chance anyway.

“Noelle,” I said, choosing my words carefully. She was a babysitter, and clearly Miley’s track record wasn’t doing me any favors during this mixup. One wrong move, and I was screwed without proof of who I really was. “Follow me to my bedroom?” I suggested, “There are a thousand things in there that will prove that I’m not Miley.”

She gave me a long look. Studying me, if I had to guess, to see if I was telling the truth. The secondhand Miley stories I had heard painted enough of a picture–thirteen year old girl with some serious manipulative tendencies–but I didn’t know their family nearly enough to know the details. Just that the girl probably pouted when she was in trouble and was adept at playing innocent and lying through her teeth, like any tween who had figured out how to game the system at a young age.

So I wouldn’t do that. I would present cold, hard facts.

“Hmm,” Noelle mused, “Okay. We’ll see your room and then I’ll call your parents. Lead the way, ‘Alyssa.’”

The air quotes tempted me to snap something back at her. This day had already been long enough; this was the last thing that I needed. But if Noelle refused to literally walk three doors down to verify the truth, then this was the second best option. “Follow me,” I said. Heading back up the way I had come down a minute ago, this time with an unwanted guest just a few paces behind me, I didn’t even pause to check that she was still behind me when I reached the top of the stairs. If the IDs weren’t enough, senior year was recent enough that I still had all my binders full of assignments. As elaborate as Miley’s schemes might be, there’s no way she could pull off something like that.

And, of course, her parents would clear things up now that I had gotten Noelle to agree to make the call.

When I was a few feet from my door, however, she called from behind me, “Miley, wait.” I turned around on reflex, silently cursing myself for responding to my not-name simply due to how Noelle’s voice pierced the silence. Rather than continuing to address me, she was looking through Paige’s open door. “Hello?”

“Umm, hey,” Paige said. I couldn’t quite see her around the corner, especially with Noelle in the way, but it was easy enough to picture her expression. While Paige brought over her friends unannounced all the time, she was never a fan of when I did the same. “You’re new.”

“Well, yeah. The last few barely lasted a single day,” Noelle replied, “No one told me Miley had a sister.”

“That’s because Miley doesn’t have a sister,” I spoke up, “She’s an only child. Unlike me.” Well, kind of. Technically, I was an only child, even if I legally had a sister at this point.

“Sorry, what’s going on?” Paige asked.

Sighing, I abandoned the beeline I had been making for my bedroom and slipped past Noelle to take a few steps into Paige’s room. “Miley’s parents hired her,” I explained, “And she got the wrong address. End of story.”

An almost imperceptible smile appeared on Paige’s face, but it vanished just as quickly. The only reason I caught it was because I was used to her antics and all the knowing smirks and glances she gave me when getting away with little jabs that were ‘innocent’ on the surface that had patronizing double meanings meant just for me. Because size insults are SO original.

“Miley, we’ve been over this,” Paige said, “You can make up whatever little stories you want, but don’t expect me to corroborate them. Big word, sorry. I’m not going to lie for you, sis!”

Mouth gaping in shock at my sister’s reply–especially what she called me–it took me a moment to collect myself enough to find the words. “Paige, stop fucking around!” I exclaimed, “Tell her who I really am. Who we really are.”

“I just did, Miley. You’re the one Noelle is here for, and your older sister. Oh, and watch your language.” She turned to Noelle. “I’m sorry if you weren’t expecting me. I’ll be coming and going, so just pretend I’m not even here. Did our parents cover you for food?”

“I’m all set, thanks,” Noelle said, “Through Sunday evening, at least.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Hadn’t my brat of a sister screwed with my day enough?! Rolling my eyes and focusing my attention on the babysitter that seemed to be fully back to the assumption that I was actually the girl she was hired to watch, I went back to the original plan. “She’s lying, Noelle. Come on, let’s go to my room. I’ll show you.”

At that, Paige hopped up from her gaming chair. “Nice try, Miley!” she said, “You know what Mom said. No more spending all day in your room. You’re not allowed in there until after you brush your teeth tonight, remember?”

Oh, my God! She knew I had proof in there, and she was trying to prevent it!!! “Paige-”

“Miley.” How many times had she called me that in a matter of seconds? It was so obvious what she was doing. “How about you tell Noelle who you really are? If you can be honest, for once in your life, maybe she’ll make an exception for you.”

Of course, that one noncommittal word made me skeptical.

‘Maybe . . .’


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PART FOUR

“This is bullshit.”

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. The better play was to present myself as the more mature sister, which I easily was in comparison to Paige. I had better grades, was more sophisticated, and overall was just the more responsible girl. But she got under my skin so easily, and this was no exception. “Noelle, my sister thinks it’s funny to tease me about my size. The truth is, we’re the same age, and-”

“Ha!” Noelle let out a single bark of laughter. She covered her mouth in an instant, no doubt to get herself back into at least some semblance of ‘serious babysitter’ mode. Still, an amused smile remained present when she lowered her hand and looked me over, “You know, I almost believed you when you said you were a different girl. But come on, Miley. How can you expect anyone to believe you’re as old as- Paige, was it?”

“Mm hmm,” my sister hummed. There were traces of a smile on her own face, but for much different reasons. “You do realize I’m eighteen, don’t you, sis? Seriously. You’re not going to look even /close/ to this mature for at least a few more years,” she said, gesturing to her body. “Maybe you could pull off ‘fifteen’ with a makeover and major attitude adjustment, or . . . you could just act your own age, for once, instead of screwing with everybody?”

“PAIGE.” I could not believe her. She knew how old Miley was, obviously, so she was just making me sound like the middle school girl Noelle was supposed to be in charge of by referencing what most of the neighborhood knew about the lying brat who lived a few doors down. And, unlike the usual instances where my ballet leotard made me look more youthful, there was no one else around to help with the misunderstanding. “Stop! I’m not-”

“That’s enough, Miley.” Neolle’s sharp tone was even more biting than her scoffing laugh, and she took a step towards me. “You’ve tried enough of my patience. This is your first and last warning–are you going to behave, or do you want to find out why your parents hired me?”

“I’m not Miley! I’m ALYSSA.” Unfortunately, Miley’s babysitter was blocking the path out of Paige’s room. If I could just get back to my own space, get my driver’s license . . . However, I distinctly remembered Noelle making a point to say she wouldn’t mind chasing. If she really did think I was Miley, would she pursue me if it seemed like I was merely trying to run away? Because my license was in my clutch, nestled in an inner pocket of my backpack. It would take a minute to retrieve. “Just-” Pausing to take a heavy breath, and having enough clarity through my frustration to take the more mature and diplomatic approach, I looked Noelle dead in the eyes. “I can prove it. In my room.”

With a sigh of her own, Noelle calmly asked, “What’s your name?”

Of all the-

Resisting the urge to groan, I repeated myself. “Alyssa.”

Noelle glanced towards my sister. “I’m sorry to be doing this in your room,” she said, “You may leave, if you wish. I imagine this won’t take long.” Then, out of nowhere, she lunged forward and grabbed my ear.

The flicker of shock was nothing compared to the unexpected pain and pressure that came as she began dragging me by such a sensitive part of my body. Wincing and stumbling forward to avoid the feeling getting worse, I found her other hand gripping my arm and slightly digging her nails into my skin as a secondary measure to get me moving. “Ow! OW.” I yelped and cried as I more or less had no choice but to let the girl manhandle me; any bit of resistance seemed to cause more in both spots. “Noelle!!!” I shrieked, simultaneously horrified and stunned that I was being treated in such a way. “Oh my God! Noelle, STOP.”

And then we were falling. Both of us.

For a second, I thought it was because my squirming had somehow knocked her off balance. I braced myself for a rough landing; the light carpet in Paige’s room wouldn’t do much to soften a fall onto the otherwise hardwood floor. Instead, we landed on my sister’s bed. Well, that’s where Noelle ended up. I, on the other hand, fell right onto her lap into a position she had no doubt aimed for.

Gasping as I realized what she planned on doing to me, I immediately scrambled to get off her legs, only to be scooped back into place by one of her hands and set into an even more vulnerable spot the second time around as she adjusted both of us on the bed. “Miley, you’ve used up all of your warnings. Both with your parents, and with me.” While one strong arm firmly held me in place despite my efforts to get away, her other hand yanked upwards on the lower half of my leotard.

“Noelle, don’t!!” I begged. This was not happening to me! Eyes widening as the leotard dug into my backside and simultaneously shifted uncomfortably against my most private area, my mind began racing. I was eighteen years old!! Way too old to be spanked. Especially by a girl practically my age. And for this to transpire while Paige got a front row seat to the whole thing? I would never, EVER live this down.

“What’s your name?” Noelle growled. In response to another round of my struggling, she hoisted me back into position on her legs and hugged me against her torso. She wedgied the fabric hard enough that I could feel it more or less disappear between my cheeks, could feel the hint of Paige’s bedroom air on my all but bare ass.

I couldn’t give into the intimidation. Lying would only make this all worse. “I’m Alyssa!” I insisted. A high school graduate. Not some notorious troublemaking tween.

“Wrong answer.” Noelle said.

And then her hand cracked down onto my backside.


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PART FIVE

I had been SO sure that it was a bluff.

In modern society, physically punishing kids was becoming more and more frowned upon every year. And even then, wouldn’t that be something a parent did to their own child, rather than telling a babysitter to do so? I wouldn’t know. Not only had our parents been in the camp that corporal punishment wasn’t a technique they wanted to use, but I also didn’t really get in trouble growing up. Not seriously, at least, aside from maybe not wanting to do a chore or two in my younger days.

Then again, Miley did deserve something like this. In retrospect, Noelle had hinted as much. That there was a reason she had been hired. It wasn’t that difficult to put the pieces together now that it was playing out.

My whole body jolted forward from the force of the blow. Oh my God, that HURT. Not only did Noelle follow through on something that I expected to be an empty threat, but she was clearly aiming for a degree of pain on top of the emotional side of things that came with being bent over someone’s knee. Before I could fully process the first spank, her hand cracked down again on my opposite cheek.

I sharply gasped. “Noelle, stop!” Belatedly finding my voice, I attempted to squirm out of her grip and off her lap. This was not happening to me! It was the same thought as the one I had a few moments ago, but heightened now that my backside had just been assaulted twice in the most mortifying way.

My efforts were completely fruitless. That strong arm of hers kept me more or less pinned in place, though she made sure to give me a few jostling pulls anyway as a nonverbal warning to stay. At the same time, her other hand gave another sharp tug to the back of my leotard. I could only mewl in protest as it dug farther between my cheeks and uncomfortably rubbed at my most private area. My face flushed, no doubt turning crimson from a combination of the fact that I was just spanked for the first time in my life, the meek sound that escaped my lips, and the knowledge that Paige was sitting across the room just out of my sightlines to witness my humiliation.

“No.” Noelle’s voice was calm and quiet, but had a stern dominance behind it. CRACK. THWAP. SMACK. WHAP. She alternated cheeks, striking as hard as she could each time. At least, that’s what it felt like from my perspective. “That’s six, Miley, and we’re going to thirty. Each time you complain or lie to me, you’ll be adding ten to the count.”

Ignoring her, I called out to my sister. Clearly, imploring our neighbor’s babysitter to stop wasn’t going to work. “Paige, tell her the truth!” I begged. Paige was a lot most days, but this was going too. There was no way she orchestrated this, because she was more the impulsive type than a girl who planned. Playing along with the mistake that clearly brought her amusement, however? That fitted her impulsiveness to a T.

“Miley, seriously,” Paige sighed, “Enough. No one’s buying it.”

Ugh, that wasn’t helping! Every time my step-sister called me ‘Miley,’ she was confirming that Noelle had arrived at the right house. “Paige! You-AH!!” My attempt to snap back at her was cut off by an embarrassingly shrill yelp brought on by another harsh slap to my mostly bare ass. Before I could decide whether to speak up in my defense again or not, the following spank caused another girly cry. Apparently parting my lips made it next to impossible to hold back a verbal reaction. My body might have been strong from ballet, but my ass was quite sensitive due to never being hit in such a way before. Not wanting this to be even more of a show for Paige, whose smirk I could practically hear in her voice despite not being able to see her expression, I quickly clamped my lips shut before the next blow.

Noelle sighed as well. “We’re going to count that as a lie, Miley. Eight down, thirty-two to go. Now, please hold still and don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Then she got started for real.

WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

Six on each cheek; twelve total. Even after attempting to brace myself this time around, my petite body still ended up slightly jolting with each spank. I couldn’t help but make a few squeaks and muted whines along the way, which added to the audible embarrassment of the sounds of Noelle’s hand slapping my bared cheeks. Still, I managed to keep my lips tightened together the entire time to keep myself from making any louder noises as the stinging got worse and worse.

Including the first eight, we were at twenty. The brunette babysitter paused there while I caught my breath and tried to will away the eye water that was naturally forming despite my best efforts to keep it away. “Would you like to tell me your real name, now?” Noelle asked.

No. I didn’t want to. ‘Alyssa’ would be a lie in Noelle’s eyes, which would increase the number of spankings. And ‘Miley’ would be affirming that this was not the mortifying misunderstanding that it actually was. Since neither name would end well, I simply shook my head ‘no.’

“Shame,” she simply said.

I could see her raising her hand for the next spank, as I had shifted my head during the break so I could at least glance at the young woman doing this to me. So she could hopefully see a flicker of maturity in my eyes and realize I wasn’t actually some difficult middle school girl, but honestly more so I wasn’t stuck staring at Paige’s sheets and carpet and nothing else throughout this ordeal. Maybe it was the visual of Noelle’s wind-up, or because my lower cheeks were stinging and more vulnerable after the first round, but pain seemed to course through my entire body when her hand crashed into my backside.

“Okay! I’m Miley!!” I cried out.


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PART SIX

WHAP.

I gasped in shock when Noelle landed another spank on the opposite cheek. It stung more than any of the others, due to the fact that I didn’t expect her to hit me again. “Noelle, stop!” I exclaimed. “I said I’m Miley!”

That had been the whole point of ‘confessing’ that I was our bratty thirteen year old neighbor. So I wouldn’t have to suffer any more over Noelle’s lap. This was a nightmare for so many reasons. The pain itself was pretty bad, as I had literally never been spanked before and Noelle didn’t seem to be pulling her punches. Then there was the personal embarrassment, as this was the furthest anyone had ever gone after mistaking me for a younger girl. Worst of all, however, was the fact that my step-sister was watching and making zero effort to help. So far, she had only done the opposite.

“I heard you,” Noelle calmly said. WHACK. The intensity of the spank didn’t match her tone in the slightest. My renewed attempts to squirm off her lap and avoid more punishments that I didn’t deserve were met with a barrage of slaps all on the same cheek. “Hold still, Miley!”

For a moment, I tried even harder to escape. My right cheek was on fire and Noelle was still spanking it without any sign of letting up. “Stop! Oh my God, STOP.” I writhed over her legs, not thinking about the fact that my pleas might come across as whining and my movements were objectively immature. My protests fell on deaf ears as Miley’s babysitter continued believing she had the right girl, and the toned brunette was more than capable of holding me in place with just one arm.

Eventually, I gave in. It was so counterintuitive when my reflex was to get away. However, it was pretty clear that my way wasn’t getting me anywhere. So, against my instincts, I went completely limp on her lap.

“There.” WHAP. “Was that so hard, Miley?”

Squeaking from the harsh spank that punctuated the dozens of faster ones on the cheek she hadn’t left alone in quite some time, I meekly shook my head. I was scared that my voice would crack if I tried to speak, as I was still doing everything in my power not to cry. One or two tears had naturally escaped from the nonstop spanking, but I refused to let what was left of my dignity take another hit.

In fact, Paige had never seen me cry. Like, ever. Thanks to my size, I refused to show weakness around most people.

Noelle didn’t seem to have a problem breaking me of that. “Now, I need to even you out,” she said, “I’m going to do the same to the other side, okay? Then we can be done.”

Wait, what? I immediately tensed up at the implication. “Noelle-” I began, my voice about as weak as I expected.

She barely let me get that far. “Hold still. Behave.” Cutting me off, she gave a quick spank to the not so sore cheek. “Can you manage that, Miley?”

I wanted so badly to argue. To find a way off the girl’s lap and back to my room. To avoid yet another round of spankings to my mostly exposed ass. Instead, I nodded. As long as she thought I was Miley, there would be no mature conversations to be found. Especially not with my sister right there to dismiss my truths. As painful as it was, and as painful as it was going to be, I knew that allowing myself to be spanked was the only way to move on. All I needed was my driver’s license, and the only way to get that was to be free of Noelle’s lap.

“Good.” Noelle adjusted my body from my former attempt to escape. “For your information, Miley, it’s your own fault that I’m here. I only get hired when parents are desperate.” SMACK. “Because most babysitters would get in trouble for punishing difficult little girls like this.” WHAP. “Even if they do deserve it.”

Blushing as a tiny yelp escaped my lips, I focused most of my attention on staying still when every spank made me want to do the opposite. There was more to come, too. She hadn’t gotten to the nonstop barrage my other cheek had already taken.

Resting her hand on my less sore side, she explained things a little more for me. For Paige, too, as Noelle clearly wasn’t aware that Miley didn’t really have a sister. Apparently, Noelle specialized in doing whatever it took to teach girls how to behave when parents didn’t know where else to turn. She made the point that it didn’t matter that she was telling me exactly why she was here; that’s how confident she was in her abilities. In terms of corporal punishment, there were all kinds of waivers and permissions that ‘my parents’ had signed. Noelle was within her rights to discipline me however she wanted, save for the methods that had been marked as unacceptable by Miley’s parents.

“Not that I’ll share that list with you, of course.” Noelle said, “But spanking? Very much allowed. And, if you behave from here on out, you won’t have to find out what else your parents signed off on.”

The whole situation had already been wildly unfair and humiliating. But this newest revelation? FUCK. I was being punished by Miley’s ‘last resort’ babysitter, when I wasn’t actually the girl who had scared off the rest of them. And for the time being, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Admitting that I was ‘Miley’ didn’t seem to be helping my case, either. Noelle seemed determined to put me in my place. Trying to backpedal now would only take away whatever grace I had earned with my submission.

“Now, what was your name again? Alyssa?”

Yes. Alyssa, the eighteen year old ballerina.

“N-no,” I muttered, “It’s Miley . . .” The thirteen year old brat.


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