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Pepper Dyson: The Date - 1
by Darla (darla@accessone.com)

***

Younger sister comes home in a bad mood from a date that 
didn't go as planned only to unload on her older brother 
who just won't take it from her. (MF-teens, spank, inc)

***

PART 1

A randomly selected six-year-old boy will tend 
overwhelmingly to prefer chocolate ice-cream to sexual 
intercourse. For a sixteen-year-old boy, these 
preferences will, in general, be reversed. Apart from 
that, there really isn't any major difference between 
the two. This unhappy truth has been thrust, like a 
dagger in her heart, into Pepper Dyson's awareness. She 
has just returned from her first "real" date.

Oh she has done plenty of socializing with "the opposite 
sex" (and never has that description seemed more 
accurate to Pepper than now) -- in groups; at parties; 
at school. But her parents don't approve of young women 
getting into the dating thing, until they have achieved 
a certain level of maturity. Only a couple of months 
ago, shortly after her 15th birthday, and a great deal 
of heavy discussion, had they given their reluctant nod.

In part to justify their confidence, but mainly because 
Pepper doesn't like to do anything important "off the 
cuff", she has put off the initial foray until tonight. 
It was very important to her to get it right, and for 
that you need a plan. Pepper is a great one for plans, 
but this was her masterpiece. Compared to Pepper's grand 
design, Schlieffen's most strenuous efforts pale into 
insignificance.

First the 'man' -- the centerpiece of the whole 
operation. The right selection involved a lot of 
scouting. He had to be good-looking, of course, though 
not one of the narcissistic ones (why are there so many 
of those, anyway?) -- never go out with anybody who 
thinks that he is better looking than you. And he had to 
be somebody who could talk, who could put more than two 
grammatical sentences side-by-side -- you have to be 
able to introduce him to your friends after all. Nothing 
is worse than the knowing looks on the faces of friends 
as they meet your male bimbo.

It turns out that there are a few who fit these 
criteria, but once you add the really crucial thing, the 
list shrinks almost to nonexistence. The crucial thing, 
for want of a better word, is "sensitivity". He had to 
have "finer feelings" as Pepper thinks of this issue, 
though she has sense enough not to use this label out 
loud. So there you are, the crucial first date had to be 
handsome, intelligent, and sensitive. For a wonder, 
Pepper's school contained such a paragon -- one Geoff by 
name.

Geoff is in the same year as Pepper (which makes him a 
year older than she, since she has 'skipped' a year) but 
in a different home-room. In fact, the two have only one 
class together, English. From his showing in this class, 
Pepper knows that he has a satisfactory number of 
neurons firing in the right sequence. They have been 
vying, good-naturedly, for the top spot in the class all 
year. And he writes poetry! What better evidence of 
finer feelings could there possibly be? He once 
nervously showed her some of his verse when she had 
asked him what he was working on, before a class. It 
wasn't even too awful!

To add the spice of a challenge, Geoff is widely 
regarded by the girls of Pepper's acquaintance to be out 
of reach. This is because not only does Geoff have a 
girlfriend, he has an older girlfriend. It is an almost 
unheard of accomplishment that causes both his male and 
female classmates to regard him as a superior being of 
some kind. Geoff's girlfriend, Sheila, is a year ahead 
of him, a very good-looking young lady who, by all 
accounts, knows things. It must follow then, that her 
boyfriend is possessed of similar, if not superior 
knowledge. It is the cause of endless satisfying 
speculation in the lunchroom.

But then Pepper knows things too. She knows, for example 
that things are not always as they seem, in the way of 
'relationships' especially. Always learn the ground 
before a battle and get the best intelligence you can. 
It turns out that Pepper's brother Steve, and Sheila's 
brother are classmates. The ever-obliging Steve makes a 
few (very discreet) enquires and discovers that Sheila 
is not Geoff's love interest, for the simple reason that 
she is gay! She has been using Geoff as a beard, very 
successfully it seems, and with his connivance. Here is 
more proof, if any were needed, of his sensitivity!

Once the major obstacle had been found to be no obstacle 
at all, the rest was easy -- child's play really. Ask to 
see more of his verse, praise it extravagantly, wait for 
him to ask you out. Bang bang, bang. Well, more like 
bang, bang, pop. The "asking out" part had a few kinks. 
"Waiting" wouldn't quite get the job done. 

It was obvious enough that Geoff wanted to ask Pepper 
out, and more than obvious. But he couldn't think of a 
way to do it without blowing his cover. It was funny 
really -- watching him look at her with goo-goo eyes, 
the wheels so transparently going round, but nothing 
coming out. Finally it was time to force the issue. 

After a long and intense discussion of poetry, Pepper 
reached across the cafeteria table and touched Geoff's 
hand briefly with her own. "I just wanted to say, that I 
like you a lot." Furious blush from the object of her 
assault. "Oh me too Pepper! I mean I like you too... I 
wish... But there's Sheila you see and..." Pepper smiled 
gently then "Geoff, I know about Sheila. Don't worry, 
her secret is safe with me."

At this there came an expression on Geoff's face which 
was an amalgam of relief and irritation -- but the 
former predominated. "Well, since you know already, 
maybe the two of us could go out sometime? But we'd have 
to be a bit careful!" Another hand touch. "Of course 
Geoff -- I understand that perfectly. And I'd love to go 
out with you." And there went the last bang. It was all 
set for the following Saturday.

Was there now to be a mad scramble in the interim -- 
looking for just the right outfit to wear; a more 
alluring new scent; the perfect makeup? Certainly not! 
Don't forget, we are talking about the Pepper Plan here! 
She had known about the upcoming Saturday night for 
weeks. It's all part of the Plan, and all those 
decisions about clothes and such, they'd been carefully 
thought out long since. 

No -- what happened with this "free time" was that the 
plan got extended and refined. In the crude first draft, 
it had the choice of movie, the kind of witty and 
romantic conversation at the following snack, and one or 
two possibilities for the "after" part -- delicious 
possibilities. But the refinements carried on quite a 
long way from there. If you've got the time, it's always 
wise to spend it on planning. Toujours la prevision!

So what should happen after this first date? Well, to 
call it "first" would seem to imply some kind of 
sequence, no? With Geoff so obviously attracted to 
Pepper, and he being so suitable (and who knows how long 
it might be before another candidate with Geoff's 
qualifications turned up -- maybe never!) best to 
capitalize on the existing resources. 

There must be other dates, leading to more and more 
intimacy. Leading, in point of plain fact, to love. It 
was so obvious. Geoff was already more than halfway to 
love already, if only he'd known, (but men never do, do 
they?) and Pepper, the hard-nosed realist, could see the 
advantages. Many and various are the advantages of being 
in love and Pepper carefully catalogued them all. Yes, 
love would suit her very well thank you.

And after that? Well they couldn't very well get married 
next week or anything. They'd have to finish high school 
for a start. And then there's college -- have to go to 
the same one. Pepper makes a note to start talking about 
this important topic with 'her' Geoff as soon as 
possible. 

It might take some time to find just the right college, 
so you couldn't start too soon to think about the 
future. With all this dreaming about the wonderful life 
to be shared by her and Geoff, Pepper quite forgot about 
the starting point. It was almost as if Saturday night 
lay behind her, already an accomplished fact. But it 
wasn't.

No it wasn't accomplished at all. It was a complete and 
utter disaster. Geoff showed up a half-hour early! 
Punctuality would have been perfect. A few minutes early 
would have been charming, even a little flattering. But 
half an hour is a serious inconvenience -- it might even 
be a sign of well, thoughtlessness. But ok, put that 
behind us. Maybe Geoff just has a case of the jitters. 
But next was the movie. 

Pepper had given a great deal of weight to the selection 
of the correct movie. It had to be one that would 
provide her and Geoff with a topic of conversation and 
one that would demonstrate to each other, their "finer 
feelings". 

The Pepper plan called for a movie playing at a local 
'art' house and Geoff had readily agreed. But on their 
way, Geoff had casually informed her that he'd heard 
that a number of their classmates were planning to go to 
that film so that prudence required the two of them go 
elsewhere. Just like that, and without so much as a by-
your-leave! And worse than this casual flouting of the 
Plan, Geoff simply announced that they would go instead 
to see an "action" picture playing nearby instead.

Pepper had started to get a bad feeling at that point -- 
a feeling that proved to be well-grounded. For the movie 
was just silly beyond belief and Geoff seemed to 
actually enjoy it. There was no intellectual fallout 
from the film at all; not one topic that Pepper could 
turn into one of the conversational paths dictated by 
the Plan. After the last of unaccountably many car 
chases and gun battles.

Pepper and Geoff went off to a cafe for a snack and the 
talk they had was notable for its lack of sparkle and 
wit. Pepper tried heroically to rescue the Plan and had 
no help from Geoff at all. To be honest, Geoff seemed 
far more interested in staring at Pepper's chest (a 
wonderful sight to be sure) than in engaging her with 
witty repartee. In a definite hurry he was. He actually 
uttered the words "Well, let's get this show on the 
road."! Worse and worse.

But worst of all, was the 'parking'. There were no 
declarations of undying love; no poetic descriptions of 
Pepper's great beauty; nothing that had ever been within 
hailing distance of the Plan. The only talking Geoff 
did, was to whine in a very unattractive way about how 
'going' with Sheila had made him sexually frustrated. 
This was followed at once by a clumsy grab for Pepper's 
breasts. It was the very last straw. First an admonition 
"Oh please Geoff, don't do that." Next, when the request 
had no observable effect, a stinging slap to the 
handsome Geoffrey face.

This had the effect of cooling his ardor and also seemed 
to make him angry! "Jesus Pepper, what did you do that 
for?" What the hell did you think I did it for, you 
bozo? "I'm sorry Geoff, I didn't mean to hit you quite 
that hard. But you were just going too fast." This was 
not much better received than the slap had been. "Too 
fast? You'd think I was trying to rape you or something. 
You're turning out to be quite the cock-teaser aren't 
you?" 

Right. It was all her fault. Very coolly "Well, if you 
feel that way, maybe you'd better take me home right 
now." And he had, grumbling about "little cock-teasers" 
under his breath the whole way. Young Geoff really knew 
how to ingratiate himself with a woman.

And now she's back at her darkened house. Well at least 
she doesn't have to answer her parent's questions about 
the "big date" and why she has returned so early. They 
are away visiting and won't be back until late. Stomp 
stomp -- up the walk and open the door. Close it firmly 
(but not slammed! Little children do that sort of thing) 
behind you and turn on the hall lights. Except Pepper 
doesn't have to turn on the lights, since they are 
already on. 

She looks around, startled, an angry flush seeping up 
her neck. Oh this is just great. The lights are on and 
her brother Steve is at the foot of the stairs looking 
at her. It's all too much. First the asshole date and 
now her big brother "waiting up for her" as if she were 
a cheese-ball sixth grader. Next he'll want all the gory 
details. Best get the boot in first.

"What the hell are you looking at?" she sneers. In 
response to this challenge, Steve displays a wisdom 
beyond his years. 

"Me? I'm not looking at anything. I just came downstairs 
to get myself a drink." He holds the soft-drink can 
aloft as proof of his bona fides. 

"Fine, you just take your drink, Butthead, and go back 
upstairs and babysit Beavis. I don't feel like talking 
right now." 

Unfortunately Steve's wisdom doesn't extend to detecting 
the difference between a woman's not feeling like 
talking (but really wanting and needing to) and really 
not feeling like talking. But it's a subtle difference 
sometimes, and Steve is a man after all, so back 
upstairs he goes -- to Pepper's increased irritation.

Faced with her brother's defection, Pepper goes into the 
living-room and sits down in the dark. How could it all 
have gone so fucking wrong? Well, she thinks, her eye 
falling upon the liquor cabinet. A good slug of 
something or other and she can get right down to 
planning Round Two. It will have to be with someone 
other than the cup of pond scum called Geoff, of course, 
but he was, after tonight, out of sight and out of 
daydreams. She is, it would seem, in a royally filthy 
mood.

Pouring a slug of creme de menthe into a tumbler, Pepper 
takes a lusty draft to banish the thought of Geoff and 
his churlish moves. It's rather too large a swallow for 
her and she coughs explosively. There comes a sound from 
the doorway and she whirls around spilling the drink 
clutched not very securely in her hand. There stands 
brother Steve, come downstairs again to see if his 
little sister might want to talk after all. 

His look of sympathetic understanding is short-lived. 
"What the hell are you doing, you little jerk?" 

Oops. Perhaps it's time for the worldly and 
sophisticated Pepper to have a little rest and let the 
wily teenager hold sway for a bit. 

"I'm just sitting here!" she snarls. "What are you 
getting all bent out of shape about?" A bit more wily 
would have been better.

"Oh right. And I suppose the liquor cabinet just opened 
by itself and that stuff running down your chin is some 
disgusting green cough syrup?"

Pepper starts to boil dangerously close to the rim of 
her personal pot. There is little left in her small box 
of tricks this evening, but brass still lines the 
bottom. "Ever heard of 'Nyquil', creep? I think I am 
getting a cold." She sniffs convincingly and huffs over 
to the couch. Steve rolls his eyes, the flush on his 
face revealing his anger at having his brotherly concern 
blown off by his flippant sister. 

"I ought to leave you here and let you drink that crap 
until you pass out...let Mom and Dad find you and wale 
your tail." "Well why the hell don't you just do that, 
Mr. Babysitter? After all, couldn't do it yourself, 
couldja, Stevie? Might get a woodie, huh? Might have to 
use up your Kleenex later? Whudja name the box, 
anyway...'Linda'?" Steve balls his hands into fists at 
the sound of his late, lamented girlfriend's name. Bad 
enough Pep had driven her off, but this...

Steve crosses the room in a stride, kicking shut the 
liquor cabinet on the way to his sister. Taken by 
surprise, Pepper can do little more than squeak as Steve 
grabs her upper arm , hauls her to her feet, and takes 
her place on the flowered couch. "Let me go, you 
pervert, you creep, you...." she begins, but he cuts her 
off, furious. H

is jaw is clenched so tight he can barely speak. "Don't 
you *ever*, EVER, kid me about..." "Ok ok all right, 
Jesus, let me go you Bonehead. SHIT! LET ME GO!! NO!!" 
Pepper is unceremoniously dragged across her brother's 
strong thighs, and both wrists are held to the small of 
her back. Nothing happens for a moment. 

Then Steve, remembering his little sister's surprising 
strength, slips one leg out from beneath her belly and 
clamps it over the backs of her thighs, effectively 
pinioning her and coincidentally arching her plump 
bottom up perfectly for what Steve has in mind. He is 
going to show his bratty sister that he can deliver a 
punishment paddling as well as Mom *or* Dad.

Pepper, her grown-up makeup smeared, turns to look at 
her brother, her fury rolling off her in hot waves. "You 
let me go Stevie, or I swear..." "You swear what, you 
little bitch? You NEED a good spanking sometimes, *I* 
swear, and I can give it to you, don't think I can't... 
don't think I WON'T!"

With that pronouncement, Steve takes a deep breath, 
quickly flips his sister's skirt up, grabs the waistband 
of Pepper's thin nylon panties and pulls. They come down 
easily, Pepper howls in furious protest. "Let me go let 
me go let me GO!!!" she shrieks, struggling impotently 
against his strength. 

Steve closes his eyes for a minute as the full, smooth, 
china-white globes of his sister's bottom are presented. 
Despite his anger and determination, he feels that 
stirring in the root of his belly, and decides he had 
better get this over with. 

He raises his hand and brings it down firmly across the 
bottom slopes of Pepper's pretty cheeks. "OW! NOT SO 
HARD!" she protests. 

"I'll show you HARD, young lady!" 

*SLAP*

*SLAP*

*SLAP*

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

Steve's hand bounces over the surface of Pepper's 
upturned bottom, covering it with crimson. She wiggles 
and squirms, kicking up first one foot, then the other 
as the sting spreads and deepens. "This time, young 
lady, you are going to really feel it, this time, you 
are SPANK going to learn SPANK something about SPANK 
responsibility SPANK and how to treat the SPANK people 
who SPANK care about SPANK you!!!" 

Her thighs fall open as she kicked. "Stevie, NO! Oh, I'm 
sorry, I'm sorry! OW! OW! OW! It hurts! PLEEEEEZE!!" 

Steve's breath starts to come hard and short. His hand, 
raised for one more slap, hovers and is lowered. His 
voice is rough. There is a long, hot silence. Peppers 
crimson bottom quivers, inches from his hand. Her 
breasts lift and press, lift and press against the 
surface of the couch as she heaves for breath. She is 
not crying. She is not. She presses one small soft moan 
into the silence, and her hips jerk once, twice.

"Ok, get up. And go upstairs and get ready for bed, you 
brat. I'll clean up down here and then I'm going to bed 
too." 

He dumped her unceremoniously onto the couch. Pepper is 
half-sitting, half-lying, rubbing her bottom and crying 
softly. "GO!" he orders again, unable to cradle and 
comfort her as Mom or Dad would have. 

She looks at him accusingly, her eyes big and wet. 
Suddenly, she IS crying. "I'm GOING, you creep!" she 
shouts, thinking this is the worst possible end to the 
worst evening of her life. 

Pepper doesn't bother pulling up her panties as she 
thunders up the stairs, headed for her room.

Continued in part 2...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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