Voyeur

Jocelyn had just moved into Fran's neighborhood, in a back-split next door, and had been getting settled into her surroundings with her two other room mates. Jocelyn was nearly ten years older than the other girls of the house, but enjoyed their youthful exuberance. Her schedule was not conducive with the other girl's daytimers and found herself coming home late at night throughout the week. On the weekends the other girls, Rachel and Jill, had very hectic social schedules. Jocelyn was feeling a bit lonely in her new home town.

She spent a lot of time reading on the enclosed front porch relaxing on a comfortable deck chair with an attached faux leather ottoman. She often stayed out there until all hours of the night accompanied with the somber lighting she afforded her veranda and usually a glass of ice-wine or a cup of steaming java. When she wasn't immersed in a book until the wee hours of the morning, her attention veered into the comforting neighborhood scene. She became a bit of a voyeur, and even wrote about her observations in a burgeoning journal notebook, and her personal reading became less and less a focal point of her pastime of porch sitting.

Her next door neighbor captured Jocelyn's voracious attention the most. Fran seemed to live a similar lifestyle to her living into the wee hours of the morning. Fran seemed to receive a lot of female company at her home, and she often brought one or two young women home with her at a time. Jocelyn's imagination knew no bounds and simply wanted to get to know Fran and to discover the secrets and temptations of her closest potential friend.

One Saturday afternoon, Jocelyn went out and procured a fine bottle of red wine and a bouquet of tulips. She appeared at Fran's doorstep donning a semi casual sheer black pantsuit she had been saving for a special occasion. With a nearly smug grin on her face, she rang Fran's doorbell. She was surprised when the doorbell chime rang to the tune of the dead man's march!

Fran came to the door, opening it to greet Jocelyn with a smile, and invited her inside. Jocelyn explained she had wanted to come by to meet her neighbor and brought a couple of gifts to a possible new friend in her area. Jocelyn further explained she lived a strange schedule due to her choice of career. Fran instinctively knew Jocelyn was spying on her, perhaps innocently, and had witnessed the ebbing and flowing of the young ladies that were permitted into Fran's inner sanctum.

Fran invited Jocelyn to sit down on her comfortable, plush velveteen sofa which was amply stuffed and truly a time sink if you let it work its magic. After an hour of delightful conversation -- and far too much wine -- the women separated only by years of chronological age took a tour of her home. Jocelyn was lead her by the hand -- which was startling at first but became surprisingly comforting -- through the spacious and well appointed kitchen noting the one cabinet with a peculiar multitude of spatulas and wooden spoons. She was lead out through a sliding glass door into the spacious backyard with a large oval shaped swimming pool, wooden sauna shed, large eight person hot tub, a cabana filled with many flamboyantly colorful outfits in an adjoining walk in closet, and a marble stoned veranda complemented with an assortment of benches and chairs. She led Jocelyn by hand, almost instinctively patting her bum as she ascended the shag carpeted staircase (which could have been awkward if not unwelcome, but Jocelyn did not even seem to notice Fran's gesture). She led Jocelyn out to a balcony which was quite spacious with ample lighting and several lounging chairs. The view lead across to a bustling apartment complex and Jocelyn felt she could easily be watched by curious apartment dwellers across the way. The tour did not take Jocelyn to the last room, Fran's den of iniquity, and the women headed back to the front door pledging to meet again - perhaps for dinner or a night out - and Jocelyn was invited to be welcome in Fran's presence whenever she needed company. Jocelyn's departure was topped off with a tight embrace, a kiss on the cheek, as Fran's meandering hands descended down the small of her back and to her delicate bum. Again, Jocelyn was oblivious to what previously may have felt awkward or unwelcome. Jocelyn returned home with a racing curiosity about Fran.

That night, Fran had two guests arrive with her in her gas guzzling SUV. Jocelyn marveled within herself that Fran's interest in the demure, gentler sex knew no bounds. Her intense curiosity flared and Jocelyn could resist the temptations of the voyeur no longer. Jocelyn left the comfort and security of her veranda, and tip toed over to Fran's home, next door, to peer in through the windows. As she looked through the spacious French windows peering into the living room, she saw that all three women were ascending the stairs. Jocelyn circumvented the locks of the gate to the backyard and watched as the light in one of the unexplored rooms illuminated the darkness of the moonless night.

Jocelyn did the unthinkable. She climbed to a ledge on the second floor. Jocelyn was still very young at heart, athletic, and kept good care of herself. She carefully looked into the window from her precipitous and precarious perch to witness what would change her life forever. For the next hour, both of the young women were spanked! The women could have been easily in their mid twenties, but they both avidly craved the attention of Fran. Each was spanked in a multitude of positions, with Fran's strong hands, with a wooden hairbrush that seemed to fit like a glove in the palm of her hand, with a strap, with a small leather paddle, and with numerous other implements of pain-pleasure. Each was scolded openly which she witnessed when one of the girls was instructed to open the window in the midst of the escapade. Often one of the girls was put into a corner, naked or with a bare reddened bum, as the other was attended to. They were put in costumes from the nearby closet....and Fran attended to the dressing and undressing as she explained that naughty girls lost that privilege. The ordeals that these women endured at the hands of a proficient disciplinarian totally rocked Jocelyn's world at the foundations. When it became evident that the night's shenanigans were soon to be concluded, Jocelyn quietly scaled down from her perch and scampered home. An hour or so later, Jocelyn watched as the women were picked up by a taxi cab and returned from whence they came.

Jocelyn was mesmerized and she knew she should head off to sleep. Peering at the nearest wall clock, she saw that the time was now 3AM. She climbed out of her clothes, lying in her silken sheets, and fell off to slumber. Her dreams were vivid.

She woke up Sunday afternoon to hear her doorbell ringing. Answering the ghastly interruption of her much needed sleep, a UPS girl dropped off a package. She didn't even think couriers worked on the weekends (which they don't....giggles), and accepted the package tipping the beautiful girl in tight little brown shorts and a cleavage exposing tied off shirt.

The delivery girl winked at her, accepting a gratuity, and departed. Jocelyn went inside to inspect the package. Inside, she found a tight fitting pair of capris pants and a halter top, both form fitting, in a very pale shade of pink. There were a couple of pink ribbons as well. There was no card or note, however, to confess the identity of the sender. Jocelyn's racing mind did not even have time to contemplate the multitude of possibilities, nor whether this was some sort of practical joke, when the telephone rang. Jocelyn was the first to the phone as Rachel was soaking in a sudsy bath and Jill was hastily preparing dinner for each of their mother's that were visiting that night.

Fran - "Do you know who this is, Jocelyn?" the ominous voice on the other end of the phone inquired.

Jocelyn - "No, I don't. Who are you?"

Fran - "It's your friendly neighbourhood Franny....who likes to smack a naughty fanny. (Cackles) It seems some naughty girls like to stick their nosy parker noses into affairs that are none of their business. Tsk Tsk. And I thought you were such a nice friend after our delightful visit yesterday afternoon. And don't even try to deny it.....my security cameras recorded your climbing proficiencies for posterity. But the question is, however, how we shall deal with this sinful indulgence of yours."

(Unbearable silence)

Fran - "I think you know the answer already, albeit an uninformed and mediocre answer to the obvious vexing need for what will come upon you, but you shall soon pay witness to the epitome of my scorn. When I'm finished with this particular naughty girl, she will not sit for a week. And I think you will have to come back and see me often, while we sort out matters of your behavior over the next ... while. You will be having a very painful reminder of your place here in my life for say -- the next year or so."

Jocelyn - "Did you say the next year?"

Fran - "Yes I did. And I don't like to hear myself repeated, you little brat, so listen closely to what I have to say. You received a package today that I had an intimate friend of mine deliver in a lovely little outfit, I must admit, containing some garments I want you to don right this moment. Do you understand?"

Jocelyn - "Yes Maam. I understand."

Fran - "I believe you should refer to me as ... Mom. For your mother doesn't seem to have properly taught you to be a woman respectful of other people's privacy - not even a new friend supposedly honored with your honesty and respect. And Mom wants you to put on those special pants. And Mom wants her naughty brat to put on that little halter top. And Mom wants to see her bad girl with those pink ribbons in her long silky mane of hair holding back two pig tails. And then Mom wants you to go down to your living room, and wait for me in the corner with your hands on your head as you witnessed my other friends doing last night. When you've done that, I will come by to deal with you. I know your friends are home, and if they interfere, they may be the targets of my wrath and disdain as well Perhaps those are carelessly chosen words.....for I do care for you Jocelyn, but right now you are my naughty girl that just needs my attention and my adept care. Your friends probably do too."

Jocelyn - "But our mothers are coming over in an hour or so for dinner."

Fran - Giggles. "Wonderful. The stage is set. Everything is working out perfectly. I shall see you soon. And I look forward to teaching you the error in your ways."

Jocelyn hung up the phone. Without thinking or debating with herself, she stripped from her day-clothes and slipped into the outfit that had been couriered. Fran had not mentioned undergarments and did not want to risk wearing them if that was not her whim. So she went....commando. She tied her hair into pig tails with the ribbons provided in the parcel. As she brushed out her long locks of hair, she thought about the new applications for the use of the brush in her hand. She shuddered at the thought. She heard Rachel getting out of the bath and getting ready for the night's festivities with their maternal clan.

Reluctantly, Jocelyn moped her way to the living room. She found the corner, standing in it with her nose carefully placed in the corner, and placed her hands behind her head. She waited for a few minutes when the doorbell chimed.

Jill went and answered the door.

Jocelyn stood in the corner, her compatriots mere rooms away from the sight of her in what Fran believed to be her rightful place, and Jocelyn's courage began to unravel. What was she thinking lurking in the shadows of her neighbor's home to observe her private, intimate affairs of the heart, mind, and body? What spark had lit the fuse of the powder keg of her suppressed sexuality and inspired her to do something so completely out of character? Why did she simply hang up the phone on the livid Fran when she outrageously commanded this chain of events to transpire? Could she bring herself to back out and simply escort Fran from her home without embarrassing herself any further? What if Fran wouldn't let sleeping dogs lie and she forced or coerced the issue further? Would she call the local police and report Jocelyn's trespassing? Even if none of these consequences played out, could she even face Fran again -- her very own neighbor and in truth a seductive, intelligent, funny, charming, and intoxicating specimen of womankind? Could Jocelyn bear the heartbreak of losing her chance to fitting into Fran's life in some meager way, shape, or form?

And if she couldn't bring herself to halt the melodrama of the night, and face the repercussions of her insatiable curiosity and her impetuous intrusion into Fran's life, could she ever forgive herself for sacrificing her first chance in years to actually be satisfied, fascinated, and enlightened by a woman that drove her crazy with lust and desire? Was it Fran's chosen methods that drove her crazy with lust and desire?

Jocelyn had no solid answers for herself in these lingering moments of anticipation and suspense. She was a woman that desperately needed those answers, but she had no "frame of reference" and could not solve the calculus of her own yearnings in the heat of the moment. Her pulse hastened. The soft palms of her hands perspired with a thin veneer of moisture as her fingers were laced together behind her head. Her knees shuddered with an almost undetectable quake to the naked eye. She could hear her heart pitter patter in her chest as little waves of euphoria ran through her body.

She stayed put. Then her thoughts veered off in yet another direction. Her room mates, ten years younger than her -- wild and crazy, young at heart, completely oblivious to these peculiar cravings -- they would see Jocelyn in a state of body and mind that before this time they could never imagine her being in. And her mother, and the mothers of her two friends, would soon arrive for dinner and camaraderie. They couldn't possibly comprehend the subservience to Fran's commands on Jocelyn, nor her reluctance to adhere to them, and their reactions to what would surely follow were lost in the unknown tick tocks of the future.

And Fran's threat to impose harsh consequences on anyone, mothers or young women, that interfered in Fran's unwavering discipline had to drive Jocelyn to back out and run like hell. Could she face her mother again if she caused her to be spanked by the irate Fran? Could she continue living with Jill and Rachel if they too were taken over the lap of Fran? Fran would obviously not accept any nonsense and it was clear what she thought of the other mentors and supportive friendships, presumably any authority figure that guided her through her childhood and alleged adulthood, and she likely wouldn't accept any controversy this evening. Jocelyn doubted her bravery to face such embarrassment. She doubted the capacity of her own conscience in this eventuality.

But she had already went this far. Could she now turn back?

Jill had answered the chime of the door bell. Rachel had been dressing her now relaxed, bathed body in low riding jeans and a tightly fitting cardigan. Rachel descended the stairs to see who had just arrived, thinking it was one of the maternal clan, only to find Jill chatting with their mysterious neighbor.

Through the wall separating the living room from the front hall, Jocelyn could not readily hear their conversation. But as the voices grew louder and clearer, it was clear that all three women were now coming into the living room. In the midst of their chat, the talking suddenly halted. Jocelyn could feel the eyes of all three of the women merely meters away from her boring into her back taking in the delicious sight.

A flushing of the skin in Jocelyn's cheeks was red hot. But her tongue would not work. She was choking on her own humiliation as she stood in the corner, be-pigtailed, in the cute little garb delivered not so long before, with her perspiring hands behind her head.

Jocelyn couldn't turn back now. Could she? This was the point of no return.

Jill - "What in the hell are you doing Jocelyn? Our moms will be here soon."

Rachel - "And why are you dressed like that, sweetie? Even I dressed up and you know I never do that."

Jocelyn stood in the corner, utterly ashamed of herself, unable to get a word out. She remained in the corner, sweaty palms behind her head, and stood perfectly still. Fran piped in after a few moments of Jocelyn's silence.

Fran - "Young Josie here has been a very naughty girl. We finally met yesterday. I was tickled pink to finally meet one of my antisocial neighbors. And it seems curiosity can kill the cat with Josie. She decided to peep into my windows last night."

Jill -- "What in the fuck were you thinking, Jocelyn? You realize you can get arrested for that sort of thing, right? I'm sorry Fran. I'm truly surprised at you Jocelyn."

Rachel -- "Well, that doesn't explain why my room mate is standing in the corner with her hair up in pig tails. Gotta be a bit embarrassing for Jocelyn. And you realize our mothers are coming over for dinner shortly. You could have picked a better time for this humiliating act, dontchathink?"

Fran -- "No time like the present. When the guilty conscience is still fresh. You see, Jocelyn is going to get punished for what she did. This is just the onset of that punishment. Josie, are you going to explain what you saw last night?"

Jocelyn -- "Do I hafta?"

Fran (annoyed) -- "Yes you hafta! Big girl like you using such words."

Jocelyn -- "When I looked through Fran's window, I saw her spanking some girls."

Jill and Rachel (in unison) -- "Spanking them?"

Fran (devilish smile creeping on her face) -- "Yes, spanking them. Those particular girls asked for it though. Really asked for it. Josie here....well, she doesn't HAFTA ask."

You could almost hear the bell ding in both Jill and Rachel's brains. They both realized what Fran planned on doing despite the impending visit from all of their mothers. It didn't seem to phase Fran that this could be a very humiliating experience for Jocelyn, for the girls, and maybe even for Fran herself.

Rachel had been spanked growing up. Not overly regularly, but as often as it was warranted. Now in her wild and crazy twenties, she knew she was a grown up, independent woman and didn't want her mother getting any crazy ideas about a revisiting of past discipline. While she predominantly behaved in her day to day life, she had her risqué moments. She had experiences she wasn't particularly proud of. She had stories she wished she could erase from her scrapbook.

Jill, on the other hand, had no frame of reference. She hadn't been spanked growing up. She was, in reality, very well behaved to this very day. She had been a good student, and remained a star pupil, and hadn't fallen into the wrong crowd. Seeing Jocelyn like this, knowing what was in store for her, was at first alarming. Then, the curiosity that makes people leer at car accidents -- especially the tangled wrecks -- caught Jill by surprise. She couldn't take her eyes off of Jocelyn standing there in the corner. And she wanted to see how this played out.

Both girls were concerned about exposing their mothers to this and it was Rachel that spoke up first.

Rachel -- "I, for one, am not going to stay and watch this public display of humiliation one minute longer. And I sure as hell am not going to let my mother wander into this. I'm calling her to cancel this very minute. If its ok with my room mates, perhaps I'll tell her we'll take a rain cheque for next weekend."

Jill nodded.....and Jocelyn did from her perch in the corner.

Fran -- "Fine. If that's what you want, Rachel. But I'm a bit disappointed you don't want to stay here to support your friend in her time of need. And this IS a time of need. What are friends for after all?"