Lizzie McFizzy Learns a Lesson

Disclaimer:	This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to anyone you know must surely be a coincidence. *bg* (This is a “sequel” of sorts to “Lizzie McFizzy and the Terrible, Horrible, Absolutely No Good Day,” and will make much more sense if you read that first.) If stories of an F/F discipline nature are not to your taste, then boy, are you on the wrong site! *snort*
Acknowledgment & Dedication:	To the Brat Extraordinaire who inspires stories such as this one. (Trust me, she’d inspire any top – and even a few brats – who were breathing and conscious! Though writing would not be the action most of them would be inspired to do! *LOL*) Happy Birthday, Fizzy! Your arrival on this planet years ago was a blessing to all of us. *cuddle*

by Alyx

Living next door to the new neighbor wasn’t easy for Fizzy. Just as she’d promised Kris, Roslyn checked in on Fizzy quite regularly. If she caught Fizzy looking a bit tired, there would be searching questions about the brat’s sleeping habits. If the apartment started looking a bit scuzzy, there was sure to be a lecture about better time management. But if her interference had been limited to just bossiness and unsolicited advice, it would’ve been easier to get rid of her. Fizzy would’ve just told her off and refused to open the door when she came around, much as that would’ve gone against Fizzy’s polite nature.

What made things difficult was the fact that Roslyn did genuinely nice things for her too. Like inviting her over for dinner on the nights Fizzy was studying for her online class and feeling too exhausted to cook. Or offering to pick up things for her while she was at the market. Or once even surprising Fizzy with tickets to a play on her birthday, when Fizzy wasn’t even aware that Roslyn knew when her birthday was. “Your Aunt Kris told me,” was her explanation, and Fizzy found it easier to just let the assumption go than to try to explain exactly who Kris was. Heck, she wasn’t even sure she knew that herself.

In short, Roslyn became a good friend, one Fizzy found herself relying on more and more. It was still a shock the first time Roslyn spanked her, though.

Strangely enough, it didn’t come about because of her problems with bedtime, procrastination, or bad driving habits – the things Kris had seen fit to spank her for.  In fact, it seemed as if the Universe had taken the matter out of her hands entirely, in the form of a flu bug. A very unforgiving virus that swept through on the tail of winter, just as everyone was looking forward to warmer weather.

Things grew especially challenging at work, as one by one her co-workers were felled with the flu. It meant double her usual workload, and Fizzy came home feeling like she could sleep for a week. Of course that was impossible, and with an exam coming up for her class it meant even later bedtimes than usual. By the middle of the week she was horrified to catch herself sneezing several times in a row.

“Noooo, I can’t afford to be sick, I just can’t!” she moaned. She convinced herself the scratchiness in her throat must be her allergies acting up, and pushed on working. But Thursday morning she woke with a pounding head and achy body, and could barely open her eyes. There was no way she could force herself in to work, so she called in sick. She slept most of the day away, and in the evening decided she had enough energy to attempt to do her laundry. Might as well do a few chores since I’m home, she thought.

But her momentary spurt of energy deserted her almost immediately.  The washers and dryers in her building were located on the ground floor, and carrying two loads back and forth, not to mention the draftiness of the laundry room, nearly did her in.

“Okay, that was not a good idea,” she murmured to herself, frustrated with her body’s weakness. Her headache was back again, with a pounding behind her eyes that made her a little dizzy. Her nose was streaming as well, and any coughing or sneezing made the pressure in her sinuses nearly unbearable. She left her clean laundry in the basket and collapsed on her bed. How was she ever going to study for her exam on Monday? “Drugs! I need drugs!” she croaked, and levered herself up to head for the bathroom cabinet. There she found some extra strength Sudafed and downed the maximum dosage immediately.

Taking it on an empty stomach made her slightly queasy, but within half an hour she was in the almost-pleasant drug-induced haze that cold medicines can produce. True, her eyes looked a little over-bright in the mirror, and her fever wasn’t completely reduced. But at least she could now force herself to read the damn textbook. She read a chapter and a half before crashing out at midnight.

The next morning she awoke to the sound of her alarm. She slapped at the clock-radio blindly. Her body felt like a bag of cement and knew she wouldn’t make into work today either. She tried to roll over and drift back into unconsciousness, but the buzzing of the alarm jolted her into wakefulness again. She pried her eyes open to glare at it – why was it ringing at 7:56 a.m.? That was much too late. Wait, I didn’t set it last night, she frowned. Then she realized it was the doorbell that was buzzing so insistently.

“Go away, I don’t want any!” she shouted. Or at least, she meant to shout. What came out was actually a whisper, forced from a throat that felt as if she’d swallowed sandpaper. But fortunately the idiot wanting to bother her at such an early hour gave up and went away. She drifted thankfully back in to unconsciousness.

The next thing she was aware of, someone was shaking her by the shoulder. Blearily she squinted against the painful daylight and tried to focus.

“Roslyn! What are you doing in my apartment?” She rolled over, groaning at the ache in her very bones, and glared at her neighbor.  “How the hell did you get in, anyway?!”

“Your aunt gave me a key,” Roslyn answered, unperturbed by Fizzy’s rudeness. She did look concerned at the state of her appearance, however. “Why are you sleeping in your regular clothes? And why aren’t you at work? Are you sick?”

“She’s not my aunt.” Fizzy let her head drop back down to her pillow. It weighed a ton and she couldn’t hold it up any longer.

“Well, Kris gave it to me, then. Now answer my questions, please. Your car hasn’t moved for two days – are you not well?”

An interrogation was the last thing Fizzy needed right now. Friend or no, Roslyn was getting to be too much of a busybody and it was time to nip it in the bud. With a supreme effort, Fizzy enunciated past her stuffed up nose and the pounding in her head.

“No, I am not well. And I appreciate your concern, but I really don’t have time for this. Please just give me back the key to my apartment, and let yourself out. I need to rest.”

Roslyn looked at her for several seconds without saying anything. Then she turned and left.

Fizzy sighed in relief and pulled the blanket over her head. She felt a little guilty at rebuffing Roslyn’s gesture of kindness, but she’d worry about fixing that when she was better. If she survived, that is.

It seemed like only minutes later that Roslyn was back, pulling back the blanket and briskly telling Fizzy to change out of her sweatshirt and jeans.

“You’ll be more comfortable in your pajamas, sweetie. Here, I found these in your drawer.” She handed over a flannel pair that Fizzy hadn’t worn in years.

Fizzy stared at her incredulously. “What are you doing back here? Didn’t you hear what I said yester—” she glanced over at her clock and swore. “Damn it, it WAS only a few minutes ago!”

“Yes, I had to go get some food from my apartment – your cupboards are quite empty. And I brought back this,” she held up a white box with a red cross on it, “my little medical kit. Let’s take your temperature and see if you have a fever, okay?”

“NO, I don’t need my temperature taken, and I don’t need you here! I know you have good intentions, but I can take care of myself!” Fizzy yanked the blanket out of Roslyn’s grip and resisted the urge to drum her feet on the bed. Good grief, was the woman completely incapable of taking a hint?!

“If you call the condition you’re in, and the state of this apartment, ‘taking care of yourself’ then I’m afraid I disagree with that statement,” Roslyn said evenly. “Now open up.” She held a thermometer in front of Fizzy’s mouth.

“No.” Fizzy pressed her lips together tightly.

“Young lady, I do have a rectal thermometer in my medical kit as well.”

Fizzy gasped and flushed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“You think not?” Roslyn’s eyes were glinting a warning. “You are this close to being taken over my knee, missy. The only thing that is saving you is that I seem to realize how sick you are when you do not! Now let’s have no more of this nonsense. Open up.”

Fizzy hesitated. She didn’t really think that Roslyn would do such a thing, but in her weakened state it was better not to test it. She opened her mouth. “No one even uses these things anymore,” she grumbled around the glass tube in her mouth. “Everyone has the digital ones you can read off the forehead or in the ear!”

“I’m old-fashioned,” was Roslyn’s reply. “Now stop talking so I can get an accurate reading.”

While she was waiting for the thermometer to register, Roslyn went into the kitchen. Fizzy could hear her moving pots and pans around on the stove.

She’ll probably scold me for not doing the dishes next, Fizzy thought resentfully. Damn you and your “Christmas present,” Kris!

After she returned to extract the thermometer, Roslyn shook her head. “A fever of a hundred and two…just what I suspected. Okay, my girl, it’s some chicken soup and aspirin for you, then maybe a nice bath to cool you down.  I guess you can change to pajamas after bathing.” She frowned at Fizzy. “Can you get up, or shall I give you a sponge bath?”

“I can bathe myself!” Fizzy said immediately. There was no way in hell she was letting Roslyn do that!

But after dinner, which was surprisingly tasty considering Fizzy hadn’t been hungry for the past two days, all she wanted to do was sleep. Roslyn took the dishes back into the kitchen and returned to find Fizzy huddled under the blankets once more.

“Uh-uh, into the tub with you. You’ll feel better once you’ve had a bath.”

Fizzy emerged to shoot her a resentful glare. “I’ll take a shower later, okay? Right now I really need my rest.”

“You do need your rest,” Roslyn agreed. “And you shall have it. But first, you shall have a bath while I change the bedding. I saw some sheets piled in a laundry basket in the living room. They’ll be wrinkled, but at least they’ll be clean.” Her glance at the bed Fizzy was lying in said volumes about her opinion of the current state of the sheets.

Fizzy had had enough. All she wanted was rest, and Roslyn wouldn’t leave her alone. She lost her temper, something she would regret later for more than one reason.

“All right, that’s it! I tried to be nice about it, but you don’t seem to get the message. I don’t NEED you here, I don’t WANT you here! Stop being such a FUCKING BUSYBODY and LEAVE ME ALONE!” In frustration, Fizzy picked up the closest thing at hand, which turned out to be a box of Kleenex, and flung it. She didn’t throw it at Roslyn, she’d never do such a thing. But it did fly past her and into the wall, with a very satisfying thud. The older woman’s eyebrows rose. When she spoke her voice was surprisingly calm.

“What you require, whether you know it or not, young Fizzy, is someone to look after you while you are so ill. It’s clear you’ve let yourself get into a terrible state. I promised Kris I would keep an eye on you, and I keep my promises, so I’m not going anywhere. But what you need right at this moment, my girl, is to be taught what happens to brats who have tantrums and throw things!” With that, reached down and began unbuttoning and unzipping Fizzy’s jeans.

Fizzy knew immediately what that meant, and she fought as hard as possible in her weakened state, which meant with the effectiveness of a day-old kitten. “Nooooo, I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry!” she protested, but Roslyn finished unfastening her pants and, grabbing each trouser leg at the heel, easily pulled them off. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and just as easily pulled Fizzy over her lap.

“This is long overdue, young lady…” she held her firmly and pulled down her panties, “…and you’re just lucky I’m making allowances for your illness!” She lifted her hand and brought it down swiftly against Fizzy’s bare bottom, a series of brisk smacks that stung from the start.

“Ow, ow! I don’t FEEL lucky!” Fizzy wailed, trying to squirm away from that solid palm.

Roslyn pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. The brat definitely had some endearing qualities, in spite of her poor judgment.  Roslyn delivered several hard slaps to her target, ignoring Fizzy’s yelps and wriggling. But she didn’t keep her in a prone position for very long, in deference to the state of her health. Fizzy’s bottom was just a healthy pink when Roslyn released her, pulled up her panties, and helped her upright again. “Well, you are lucky, because I’m giving you just a fraction of what you deserve.” She hugged Fizzy briefly. “Come on now, I’ll help you with your bath.”

Fizzy wanted very much to protest against that, but being bent over someone’s knee and having her bare bottom smacked took what little spirit the flu had left in her. With both sets of cheeks still burning, she made her way to the bathroom and waited meekly while Roslyn drew her bath.

“Do you need help undressing?” Roslyn asked gently.

“No, thank you,” Fizzy said, resisting the urge to point out that she’d already had unasked-for assistance with her jeans. She waited till Roslyn left and then got into the bath. The warm water felt extra hot against the sensitive skin of her backside, but she slipped down into the bath with a sigh of relief. The steam from the water eased the congestion in her lungs a bit, and the aspirin was already helping with her fever and sore throat. She lost track of time, floating in the tub and letting the heat seep into her aching muscles, but eventually she heard a soft knock on the door.

Roslyn stuck her head in. “Do you need help getting out of the tub?”

“No, I can manage!” Fizzy said with some alarm, bringing her knees up to her chest and trying to sit up at the same time. It wasn’t as if it was a bubble bath – Roslyn could see her right through the water!  Unfortunately, in her panicked scramble to cover herself, Fizzy reckoned without the slipperiness of the tub bottom, and her own bottom slid out from under her, causing her to slip beneath the water before she could grab onto the side and pull herself up.

“Oh good grief!” Roslyn rushed into the room at that point, reaching under the water to pull Fizzy upright, and holding her as she began coughing up the water she’d swallowed. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Fizzy nodded, eyes watering and coughs still shaking her frame. “Yes, thank you.”

Roslyn could not repress a smile. “Honey, you’re definitely a danger to yourself, you know that?”

Fizzy didn’t answer. Her modesty was moot at this point, and she was feeling pretty miserable again. Roslyn brushed the wet hair off her forehead. “Stay right here and don’t move an inch, do you hear me?” Fizzy nodded again, watching as Roslyn retrieved a towel from the rack and held it up in front of her. “Come on, let’s get you dry.”

Fizzy allowed Roslyn to bundle her up and help her step out of the tub. She even stood there like a child as the older woman buttoned her up in her flannel pajamas and gently dried her hair. “Okay, into bed with you.” A soft swat followed.

Feeling very weakened from her ordeal, but also infinitely better after her bath, Fizzy snuggled down into the fresh cool sheets with a sigh of relief. She didn’t even open her eyes when she felt Roslyn sit on the edge of the bed next to her. She felt her back being rubbed, long soothing strokes that made her snuggle even deeper into the mattress.

“I’m just going to straighten up a little and then let myself out,” Roslyn was saying quietly. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning, but if you need anything before then, then just give me a call, okay?”

“Mm-kay,” Fizzy said drowsily. She was fast asleep before Roslyn even left the room.

The next day Fizzy felt much better, but Roslyn insisted she stay in bed for most of the morning, giving her aspirin and vitamin C and enough liquids to float a battleship. It was actually comforting to have someone looking after her and making her meals, but she began to get a little restless when Roslyn prevented her from sitting at the computer.

“I have to study! I have an exam on Monday,” Fizzy complained. “Besides, I don’t feel sick anymore.”

“If you try to force yourself to do too much before you’re completely recovered, you’ll just give yourself a relapse,” Roslyn said sternly. “Pushing your body too hard is probably how you got sick in the first place, I’ll wager.”

Fizzy could feel a blush rising, and she refused to meet Roslyn’s eyes.

“Uh-huh, I thought so. No, you’re going to rest right here, missy. Do you have a laptop? You can do a little studying in bed if you promise not to overdo it.”

“I have a netbook, but I don’t have a wireless connection.” A pout followed. “I need to be able to access the internet.”

“Well, if you’re still feeling good this evening, you can sit at your computer for a little while,” Roslyn said. She glanced at her watch. “I have to go do some laundry. I’ll be back later with your dinner, okay?”

“You don’t have to, I can make my own dinner,” Fizzy said, halfheartedly.

Roslyn smiled. “It’s no trouble. I have to eat anyway, and it’s nice to have company.” She looked more closely at Fizzy. “I want you to stay away from the computer, is that clear?”

“Yes, yes,” was the impatient reply, followed by, Good grief, I may be sick, but I’m not deaf!  However Fizzy was wise enough to keep that last thought to herself.

At 5:00 p.m. Roslyn returned to Fizzy’s apartment, to find her charge sitting up in bed furiously typing on her cell phone. Her color was paler than it had been earlier, except for the moment when she noticed Roslyn standing there, and she flushed guiltily. Roslyn walked over to the bed, an incredulous expression on her face.

“What have you been doing?! That didn’t look like resting to me!”

“I didn’t get on the computer!” Fizzy said immediately. She lay back in bed, suddenly exhausted.

Roslyn closed her eyes and appeared to count to ten. Oh-oh. She opened them up again. “Please tell me you weren’t trying to study on that tiny little screen.”

“You said to stay away from the computer,” Fizzy said defensively. “I didn’t even get out of bed!”

“I told you I didn’t want you to overdo things. Trying to work on that…that…” she pointed to Fizzy’s Blackberry in disgust.

“Smartphone,” Fizzy put in helpfully.

“On that instrument,” Roslyn continued sternly, “is NOT resting! I’m sure it can’t have been good for your eyes to be staring at that tiny screen all afternoon!”

Was that why there was such a pounding in her head, and why her vision seemed so blurry all of a sudden? Fizzy wondered. She’d been so engrossed in trying to absorb as much as possible, she hadn’t realized that her eyes were feeling strained till just now.

“Okay, you’re right,” Fizzy admitted, dropping the phone onto the bed and putting a hand to her forehead. “Right now…I don’t feel so good.”

Roslyn’s palm tingled. It actually tingled. She’d read about such things in stories, but had never actually experienced it before. Then again, never before had she met a brat quite like this one.

“Young lady,” she said, and the words emerged quite slowly because of the tightness in her jaw, “if you weren’t suffering from the flu, and now from a self-inflicted nausea….you’d be suffering from a tanning that would leave you unable to sit for a week!”

In spite of the headache behind her eyes, Fizzy found herself squirming beneath her blanket. Roslyn’s expression said she was awfully close to carrying out such a threat, despite Fizzy’s incapacity.

“I’m sorry,” Fizzy said, as pitifully as possible. And she was sincerely sorry. But she thought that putting on some puppy-dog eyes wouldn’t hurt either.

Roslyn snorted, as much at herself as at the obvious appeal to her sympathy. She had to resist the urge to comfort the brat over her own foolishness. “I’m going to go heat up your dinner,” she said in a slightly gentler tone. “Can I get you anything? Some juice, maybe?”

“No, I’m just going to rest here while you’re doing that. Quietly. With my eyes closed,” Fizzy added angelically.

Roslyn had to turn away to hide a smile. “It’s too bad that didn’t occur to you earlier!” she said tartly as she left the room.

After dinner (and some ibuprofen) Fizzy was feeling a little better. But Roslyn decided she’d better not push it, and forbade her from sitting at the computer. Then, to Fizzy’s surprise, Roslyn pulled up a chair next to the bed and picked up Fizzy’s textbook.

“Okay, show me which chapters you’ll be tested on,” she said. She then began to ask Fizzy about the material in the book, along with questions about concepts that were unclear to her. Fizzy found that having to explain curriculum planning to Roslyn really clarified which parts of the material she understood completely, and which were a bit hazy.

At 10:00 p.m., Roslyn looked at her watch and put the textbook down. “Okay, I think that’s enough for tonight. After a good night’s sleep you’ll be better able to tackle the rest tomorrow.”

“But….it’s early for a weekend!” Fizzy said, fighting the urge to sulk. Amazingly enough, she found she’d actually been enjoying discussing her schoolwork with the other woman.

“It’s not early for sick girls, especially if they were naughty during the day,” Roslyn said firmly. She looked meaningfully at Fizzy. “We haven’t discussed your earlier misbehavior, but we can do so now if you like.”

“No, you’re right, it’s late,” Fizzy said hastily. “Especially since I’m still sick.” She yawned convincingly for good measure.

“Yes, I thought you might see it that way.” She stood up, put the textbook away, then proceeded to tuck Fizzy in as if she were a child. “Sweet dreams, brat,” she said softly, kissing Fizzy on the forehead.

Fizzy wasn’t sure how to respond to the unexpected goodnight treatment. “I’m not a brat,” was the reply she managed. Roslyn didn’t even bother to answer that, just chuckled softly as she left the room. Hearing her laugh, Fizzy smiled to herself and burrowed deeper under the covers. Though she still had some online work to complete, she felt much better about being prepared for her exam. Instead of restlessly worrying over her schoolwork, she slept like a baby.

The next day when Roslyn checked in on Fizzy, she found her sitting at her computer and looking more like her normal self. “You seem to be feeling better.”

Fizzy nodded. “I am much better, thank you. I’m just going over some of week’s lectures, but I’m pretty sure I’m ready for Monday’s exam.”

Roslyn studied her charge. The response was a bit more subdued than usual, but maybe Fizzy was still feeling the after-effects of her illness. “That’s great, sweetie. But don’t stay up too late, okay? And if you’re not 100% well, you shouldn’t go back to work either.”

“I’ll be in bed early,” Fizzy promised. “And thank you…for…your help this weekend.”

“You’re welcome. I was glad to help.”

Fizzy smiled politely in reply, clearly eager to get back to her studying. Roslyn said goodbye, but as she closed the door behind her, she felt an odd sense of unease. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but her intuition rarely misled her. And as the week progressed, she grew more and more certain that something was not quite right.

On the surface, Fizzy seemed to be doing better than ever. She called Roslyn on Monday evening to say she’d aced her exam, and to thank her once again for her assistance.

“Congratulations! Want to come over for some ice cream to celebrate?”

“Thanks, but I’m going out with some work friends for drinks,” Fizzy said. And she added, before Roslyn could speak, “But I WILL be home early, and I WON’T drink and drive!” They shared a laugh, and Roslyn wished her a good evening. But as she hung up the phone that niggling feeling of things being a little “off” bothered Roslyn more than ever.

The rest of the week was similar – Fizzy was polite, considerate, and especially well-behaved. She no longer questioned Roslyn’s right to offer advice or impose things like bedtimes. In fact most of the time she volunteered information before Roslyn could ask. At the same time, it seemed like she grew more and more distant.

“Is everything…okay?” Roslyn asked her over the phone one evening, after Fizzy had declined her offer of a homemade dinner, an invitation she would’ve jumped at before.

“Everything’s great! Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seem a bit…preoccupied, I guess.”

“Work and school have been really busy,” Fizzy said. “But everything’s fine. You worry too much – I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know!” She laughed then, but it sounded to Roslyn as if the laughter had an edge to it.

Maybe that was it, Roslyn decided. She’d been hovering too much, like an overprotective mother, and Fizzy just needed some space.

So Roslyn backed off a bit, waving at Fizzy in passing, but no longer dropping by or calling so often. She was still mindful of her promise to Kris, but Roslyn thought that Kris would’ve been happy with the way things were – it seemed that virtually overnight Fizzy had turned into the organized and well-adjusted young woman every parent dreams of.

Then one evening, a few weeks later, Roslyn heard her neighbor swearing like she hadn’t in a long time. A peek through the door revealed that Fizzy had dropped her keys on the ground, and then was struggling to put them into the lock. Roslyn opened her door a bit and stuck her head out.

“Hey, feel like coming over for a glass of wine?”

“No, thank you. I’m a bit wiped. Maybe another time.” Fizzy answered over her shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Roslyn frowned. Even with the distance that had developed between them, this was strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine….what the fuck is it with this lock?!” She jiggled the doorknob impatiently, kicking the door with her foot. Finally, it opened. “Goodnight!”

“Hold it right there, young lady!” The sternness in Roslyn’s voice was unmistakable, and it froze Fizzy on the spot. Roslyn walked across the hall and spun Fizzy around to face her. She was shocked by the pallor of the younger woman’s skin, and the suggestion of tears in her eyes. “Sweetie, whatever is the matter?!”

“I…got into an accident,” Fizzy said at last, voice barely above a whisper.

“What! Are you okay?” Roslyn resisted the urge to feel for broken bones and satisfied herself with looking her over from head to toe.

Fizzy nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. But my car wasn’t. I had to take a cab home.”

“A cab? Why didn’t you just call me?!” She didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in her voice.

“Listen, can we talk about this later? I really need to sit down.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, of course.” But rather than letting her go, Roslyn took her by the arm and accompanied Fizzy into her apartment. She pushed Fizzy onto the sofa. “Sit there, I’ll make some tea.”

As Roslyn heated up the water, she noticed for the first time what a mess the apartment was. Dishes and laundry were piled up in a way she’d not seen since she’d first met the brat. Apparently Fizzy was not coping as well as she’d thought.

Fizzy lay back on the sofa with her eyes closed. When Roslyn brought the cup to her, she took a sip and made a face. “Yuck, what did you do to this?! It’s got milk and sugar in it!”

“It’s a good treatment for shock. And that’s what you need right now, sweetie. Don’t fuss, just drink it.”

Roslyn’s tone was reassuring and calm…and authoritative. Without thinking, Fizzy obeyed. When the younger woman had a bit more color in her face and her hands were no longer trembling, Roslyn picked up the conversation where they had left off.

“Now – tell me what happened, please. Was it when you were coming home from work?”

Fizzy nodded. “I was going through an intersection…I had the right of way and a man was making a left turn in front of me. I tried to avoid him but it was too late. We collided and my right fender got bashed in so much it was pressing against the tire. There was no way I could drive it home. Luckily I have AAA, so I had it towed and had to find a way back home.”

“Did you get his number? Was anyone hurt?”

“Yeah, the police got there and we exchanged insurance information and all. I shouldn’t have any problem because the cop agreed I had the right of way.”

Roslyn nodded. “Okay, that’s good. But neither of you was injured?” She was looking Fizzy over again searchingly, but didn’t see any obvious signs of injury. Fizzy shook her head.

“No, thank god. He jumped right out of his car after to ask if I was okay, and he didn’t have any passengers. I banged my knee on the steering column, but other than that I’m fine.”

“All right. Now tell me again why it was you didn’t want to call me to come pick you up?”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think of it.” But Fizzy wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Young lady, don’t you lie to me,” Roslyn said, a warning in her voice.

A slight flush of guilt gave her away. “Well, I didn’t know if you’d be home!”

“I work at home,” Roslyn said. “You know that.”

Fizzy did know that. Roslyn was a self-employed accountant who worked out of her apartment, a fact that she’d cursed more than once because it meant Roslyn was always around.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Fizzy said at last. “You have better things to do than rescuing me.” The slight edge of bitterness was back in her voice, and it made Roslyn’s eyes narrow. Were they finally getting to the reason behind Fizzy’s strange behavior all these weeks?

“First of all,” Roslyn said slowly, “I wouldn’t have thought of it as a ‘rescue’ at all. I would’ve thought of it as helping out a friend. The way friends do for each other.” She paused as Fizzy shifted uncomfortably at that, as if she would’ve liked to contradict it, but the younger woman stayed stubbornly silent.

“Secondly,” Roslyn went on, “if it really HAD been a matter of ‘rescue,’ then no, I actually have nothing better to do than that. Don’t you know how much your welfare matters to me?”

“Yeah, because you promised Kris, yadda yadda, I know all about that!” Fizzy said resentfully.

Roslyn felt a strong urge to address that bit of rudeness with a couple of brisk smacks, but she decided it was more important to uncover what was going on.

“No,” she said with remarkable calm, “that’s not the reason. Yes, I promised her I’d check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. But I’ve also grown to care about you, and so naturally what happens to you matters to me.”

“But why?” Fizzy asked, scowling fiercely.

Roslyn’s eyebrows rose. “Why? Why not? Don’t you care about what happens to your friends?”

“Of course I do! But that’s different.”

“I don’t see the difference,” Roslyn said. “Is it because I’m older? Would you be concerned if you’d heard I’d gotten into an accident?”

“Of course I would! But you know very well that’s not the same thing either!” Fizzy was sounding increasingly frustrated, but Roslyn felt as if she was perhaps gaining a little glimmer of understanding of what the problem might be.

“To me it seems to be exactly the same thing,” Roslyn said simply. “Why do you say it’s different?”

“Because YOU’RE not the brat in this situation!” Fizzy shouted at last. “YOU’RE not the screw-up who needs constant monitoring! YOU’RE not the adult who needs to be treated like a child! People know YOU can manage your life just fine on your own!” Fizzy stopped, breathing hard, at the sight of Roslyn’s smile. “You think this is funny?!” Anger and hurt raged in her suddenly. “Fuck you! Just get out of my house, Roslyn!”

But Roslyn had exercised enough patience for one evening. She recognized that the out-of-control behavior Fizzy was now exhibiting had one long-overdue solution, and she judged that the right time had come to administer it. One swift tug, and Fizzy suddenly found herself draped over Roslyn’s lap. It infuriated her that the older woman would think this was the solution to everything, especially considering what Fizzy had just told her. She struggled to rise, swearing mightily, but Roslyn’s strong arm pinned her down firmly. A hefty stinging whack penetrated even through her denim trousers. “Ow! Let me up, Roslyn! I mean it!”

“You are not going anywhere until you are prepared to behave reasonably,” Roslyn said sternly. “And that means listening to what I have to say.”

“I can listen from a vertical position!” Fizzy said angrily.

“That has not been demonstrated this evening,” Roslyn replied. “So you might as well settle down, before I decide stronger measures are needed to get your attention.”

Fizzy gave one last kick against the cushions. She could feel the warm weight of Roslyn’s palm resting against her bottom, and that was attention-getting in itself. “Okay…I’m listening,” she said sulkily.

Roslyn took a deep breath. “Good. Now, first of all, let me explain that I wasn’t laughing at you, okay? I was smiling at the ridiculous notion that anyone would think those things of you! Especially YOU, who should know better!”

Fizzy frowned. “Wait, you’re the very one who treats me like a child! If you don’t believe I am one, why do you treat me that way?!”

“I don’t treat you like a child,” Roslyn replied. “I treat you like an adult who benefits from some…er…traditional discipline.”

“Real adults don’t get spanked,” Fizzy pointed out.

Roslyn chuckled. “No? What makes you think that?”

Fizzy twisted to look over her shoulder, unsure if Roslyn was serious. “Well…they don’t! How many adults do you know who need to be treated this way?”

“Quite a few, as a matter of fact,” Roslyn assured her.

“They must be pretty pathetic, then,” Fizzy muttered under her breath.

“Stand up,” Roslyn said suddenly. She released her hold on Fizzy and helped her into a standing position. Confused, Fizzy stood before the older woman, but as soon as Roslyn reached for the fastening of her jeans she tried to twist away. “Don’t you move, young lady!” Roslyn’s voice took on a whip-sharp sternness that, just as earlier, caused Fizzy to freeze in her tracks. Her pants were swiftly lowered and she found herself once again over Roslyn’s lap. Without another word, Roslyn’s hand came down, hard, on Fizzy’s now unprotected bottom. Several stinging slaps had Fizzy wriggling in her grasp.

“Ow, ow! What’s that for!”

“Don’t you dare call yourself pathetic!” Roslyn’s voice was crisp. “I won’t have you talking about yourself like that!”

“I wasn’t talking about me, I was talking about those supposed ‘adults’ you mentioned who get spanked— OW, hey! Cut that out!”

“I wouldn’t try to insult my intelligence at this point, if I were you,” came the answer, accompanied by another hard smack. “We both know perfectly well what you’re implying!”

“But it’s true!” Fizzy said, and for some reason she felt very near tears. “People who have their shi— their stuff together don’t need other adults looking after them!” She braced herself for another swat, but none came. Instead, incredibly enough, she felt Roslyn’s left hand rubbing small circles on her lower back.

“Is that what you think? If that were true then there would not be a huge industry in therapists, ‘life coaches,’ and personal assistants,” Roslyn pointed out quietly.

Fizzy was surprised into silence. “I hadn’t thought about it like that,” she said at last.

“And those are just the people we pay to help us,” Roslyn continued. “Informally, who doesn’t have family, friends, or coworkers who are always glad to point out when they think we’re on the wrong track?”

“But…but…that’s not the same thing,” Fizzy said in a small voice.

“It’s very much the same thing,” Roslyn said. “Tell me, hon – is that what’s been happening these past few weeks? Have you been avoiding my help because you think it makes you pathetic?” Roslyn’s voice was very gentle now and Fizzy couldn’t answer over the sudden lump in her throat. “Mm, I thought so. Come here, baby.” Roslyn lifted her upright into a long cuddle, and Fizzy hugged her back gratefully. She pulled back and held Fizzy’s chin gently with her thumb and forefinger so she could look directly into her eyes.

“Listen to me, sweetie. You are far from pathetic. You are a smart, capable adult – self-supporting and responsible. You work a full-time job where you are respected and valued, you are taking classes on top of that to further your education, and you try to juggle a social life between those two things as well. You did all of those things successfully before you met me. And whether or not I’m here, you would still be doing that.”

Fizzy cleared her throat. “Maybe ‘successfully’ is too strong a word.”

Roslyn laughed. “All right, so there are areas you can improve in. Who doesn’t have those? The fact that you accept help from a friend—” she held up her hand as she saw Fizzy about to interject, “yes, help that includes physical chastisement from time to time, that’s beside the point – the fact you benefit from outside help does not make you any less capable than anyone else. In fact…” Roslyn smiled, “I think you’re an admirable young woman, Lizzie McFizzy.”

Fizzy hugged her again, gratefully.

“I felt so pathetic,” she admitted. “I thought there must be something wrong with me if I needed you to help me get through my life.”

“Well, there’s no reason to feel that way any longer, I hope you realize. You are doing fine, and there is nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it.”

Fizzy nodded. But when she went to stand up, Roslyn took hold of her arm. “Not so fast, missy.”

“W-what?”

“You are long overdue for some correction, my girl! Just take a look at this apartment!”

Fizzy looked around guiltily. “I’ve been busy!”

“Mm-hm. And how are your studies going, by the way? Are you completely up-to-date with your schoolwork?”

“Wait a minute, how did this turn into ‘interrogate Fizzy time’?!” Fizzy protested, not answering the question.

“I thought as much. But we’ll leave that for now. I want to ask you about something which you skimmed over earlier – about the accident.”

Fizzy felt a sinking sensation in her tummy. She’d been hoping that there wouldn’t be any questions about it…she should’ve known better. Roslyn seemed to have a sixth sense where she was concerned.

“I know you said it wasn’t your fault…”

“It wasn’t! I had the right of way!”

“…but I was wondering about how fast you were going.”

A deep breath. “I don’t remember,” Fizzy said honestly.

“Were you speeding?”

“Um…maybe. A little.” Fizzy’s voice was barely audible.

Roslyn’s eyes narrowed. “What color was the light?”

Fizzy’s eyes widened. How did Roslyn DO that?! “The light?” she repeated faintly.

“Yes, the traffic light at the intersection. It wasn’t yellow, by any chance, was it?” A raised brow said that Roslyn already suspected the answer to this question.

“Yellow just means get through the intersection before the red comes on!” Fizzy said desperately. “People cross all the time on yellow!”

“I know they do,” Roslyn nodded. “And they usually speed up to do so.” She paused to let that sink in. “Go get the hairbrush.”

“Nooooo!” Fizzy wailed. She knew exactly which implement Roslyn was referring to. The top had brought it over one day and placed it on Fizzy’s dresser with the simple instruction that it was for her, “but not for your hair.” Fizzy had flushed and not pursued it, and fortunately Roslyn had never seen fit to use the implement. Fizzy had managed to block it out of her mind until that moment.

“Oh yes,” Roslyn said firmly. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this right now.”

“But…I don’t want a spanking,” Fizzy said plaintively. “Please, Roslyn….you said yourself I had a bad shock today.”

Roslyn regarded her for a long moment. “Tell me, Fizzy, would you say that you’ve been doing everything you should’ve been doing these past few weeks?”

Fizzy’s eyes dropped, recalling the late nights, missed workouts, and bad eating habits. “No,” she admitted.

“And would you say that your behavior behind the wheel, whether you were legally at fault or not, contributed to that accident today?”

Fizzy squirmed. “Maybe,” she said at last.

“Then would you agree with me that you are overdue for correction?” Roslyn asked.

Fizzy took even longer to answer this time. A part of her wanted to resist, to rebel against Roslyn’s assumption that she deserved punishment. But another part of her knew that Roslyn was right – she had been neglectful of certain responsibilities, she had been driving too fast. And as far as Roslyn’s right to punish her….she looked at the top’s face – her expression was kind, even sympathetic, but absolutely firm. She wasn’t going to force Fizzy into anything – if Fizzy refused, she was pretty sure Roslyn would just get up and leave. But Fizzy knew she’d be disappointed in her, and Roslyn’s opinion meant a lot to her.

On the other hand – Fizzy took in the implacable set of Roslyn’s jaw – she knew if she retrieved the hairbrush she’d be in for a damn good spanking. And there were no half-measures here – if she stood up and went to get the brush, it was active participation in her chastisement. She’d be unmistakably agreeing that Roslyn had the right to punish her as she saw fit. Was that what she wanted in her life? She’d lived without it for decades, hadn’t she? Without all the boundaries…and structure…and support…that went with it?

She went and got the brush.

Roslyn took it from her and unfastened her jeans once again. This time, she had Fizzy remove them completely. She patted her thigh. “All right, over you go.”

Fizzy got back into position, her gut clenching with apprehension. She blushed as she felt Roslyn carefully lowering her underwear down to mid-thigh. Why was it always so embarrassing to be bared for a spanking this way? You would’ve thought she’d be used to it by now. Roslyn picked up the hairbrush once more.

“You already know why you are being spanked,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Fizzy agreed miserably.

“Tell me why.”

Fizzy squirmed. “Because I haven’t been keeping up with my chores like I should’ve. And because I was speeding while driving today.”

“And because there’s nothing wrong with being corrected when it’s part of the help you need. You agree with that, yes?”

I’m not so sure I endorse this part so much, Fizzy couldn’t help thinking. But because she couldn’t argue with the effectiveness of Roslyn’s methods, aloud she just said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Satisfied, Roslyn lifted the brush and brought it back down with a brisk swat. It was followed immediately by several more, as she set about roasting the brat’s backside in the most efficient way possible. Her technique was simple – cover every inch of both cheeks and upper thighs, spreading the swats around evenly so the entire area sported the same hot pink glow. Then, once she was sure that the surface area sting had been maximized, concentrate on the sit spots, so Fizzy would have a reminder later whenever she sat down.

For her part, Fizzy was gasping and wriggling from the first whack, as the hardwood brush had an evil burn to it. She couldn’t prevent herself from reaching back halfway through; it was just an instinctive gesture to try to protect the body part that was being sorely lambasted. But Roslyn anticipated her movement and quickly took hold of her wrist, holding it pinned to her side as she held her securely in her lap. When Fizzy’s cheeks had taken on a scarlet hue and the brat’s cries sounded as if they were close to tears, Roslyn put down the hairbrush.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson about driving more carefully,” she said.

“I have, I have – no more speeding through intersections!” was the whimpered reply.

“And no more pretense about how things are going either,” Roslyn continued. “I’m going to be monitoring you closely, Lizzie McFizzy, and you are going to let me know whenever you need my help to keep your life on track. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And why would I take such an interest in your welfare?”

Fizzy swallowed the wisecrack that always seemed to want to jump off her tongue first. “Um…because you care about me?”

“Exactly,” Roslyn said quietly. “I care enough about you to promise you that you will find yourself in exactly this position in the future, whenever it’s needed. And you will feel my hand, just as you are going to feel it in a moment, applied exactly where it’s needed, for as long as it takes to remind you of that!”

“I believe you, I swear I do! No reminder is necessary—OW!” Fizzy’s words were drowned out as, with a hike of her knee to raise the brat’s hips higher, Roslyn proceeded to wind up the punishment using the most personal implement in her arsenal. The hairbrush was excellent for imparting a terrible sting, but there was nothing like one’s own palm for direct communication. Slower, stronger whacks, each one causing Fizzy’s bottom to bounce slightly on impact, and the ability to fit her hand around every curve, made it a much more intimate means of chastisement. And the effects were clear – the near-tearful protests broke down into definite sobs, as Fizzy let go of the stress, guilt, and worry that had been plaguing her for weeks.

Roslyn stopped then, resting her palm against a backside that she knew must be throbbing. She released Fizzy’s wrist and began to stroke up and down her back in a comforting fashion.

“All right, honey, we’re done. The slate’s clean…and you’re still my good girl.” Fizzy seemed to cry even harder at those words, so Roslyn pulled her upright and into her arms, ignoring the yelp of protest as Fizzy’s burning cheeks were settled in Roslyn’s lap. She rocked the younger woman in her arms, face pressed against her neck, until the sobs subsided.

“You okay, sweetie?”

Fizzy nodded. Then she shifted and winced. “Well, I will be…eventually.”

Roslyn chuckled. She hugged Fizzy gently. “I really am glad no one was hurt in that accident. Especially you.”

“Me too.” Fizzy was silent for a long while. “Did you really mean all that? About…you know…that I’m doing an okay job with my life?”

“And that you’re an admirable young woman?” Roslyn smiled. “Of course I meant it. Everyone makes mistakes, you know. It’s what you do after the mistakes that reveals the kind of person you are.”

“You mean you make mistakes too?” Fizzy’s asked, her tone innocent.

“Naturally I make mistakes! I’m not perfect.”

“So who whacks your butt when you do?”

It took several seconds for Roslyn to get over her speechlessness at the question and then try to formulate an answer, by which time she figured out that the brat was just trying to yank her chain. She was torn between the desire to laugh, relief that Fizzy’s natural playfulness was resurfacing, and the urge to put the scamp back across her knee. Mentally she gave the brat marks for catching her off-guard, but there was no way she was going to let her get the best of her!

“Let me give you my answer in this fashion,” she growled, picking up the hairbrush while simultaneously pushing Fizzy back down into a horizontal position across her lap.

“Wait, wait, that’s not necessary! I got my answer, I got it!” Fizzy said, alarmed but unable to keep from giggling.

“Mm? What’s the answer then?”

“It’s none of my business!” Fizzy squealed. “Ma’am!” she added for good measure.

That did it. Roslyn succumbed to laughter and pulled the brat back up into a cuddle, much to Fizzy’s relief. “Elizabeth Riley McFizzy, what am I going to do with you?!”

Fizzy grinned but didn’t answer – she was too busy storing this new bit of knowledge for future reference. Hmm, they can’t laugh and whack at the same time, she mused. I just might be onto something here!

The End