Little Susie/Page2

Little Susie: Meet the Parents
by Little Laurie

I first saw my new baby, a three year old Y-repressed little girl, just after her rejuvenation. I had of course brought clothes, a cute little pink dress and hairbows. I'm so excited. This is my first Penny and I really want to do a good job. I'll only have her for three years. She's got 25 cycles to do. So I suppose that after a few cycles, she will barely remember me, which is somewhat relieving, and kind of disappointing. I really want to make a difference in this world. Twenty five, only out of college for a few years and, while a successful lawyer, still very naive outside the courts. And very single, though my mother has offered to babysit quite a bit and she'll be enrolled in preschool. And I'm going up against a very experienced former Penitatas parent.

Oh, well, let's admit it, I'm scared as Hell. This BABY abducted, beat severely and raped a little girl. Will she be reformable at all? Or is her atrocious behavior the result of what was done to her as a child, or even a fault in her brain of some sort? I heard that kind of theory in psychology at college, that some people are just unable to develop a conscience.

I intend to listen to her. I want to know why she did it. And I'm going to smother her with love. That's the difference between what I'm going to do and what she did.

She'll be an experiment of sorts for me. I have problems with the criminal justice system, but I can't suggest changes until I have some practical experience. And a place in the legislature. I'm aiming high. Maybe Earth President, even.

The door's opening! Aaah!

Oh my God, she's so cute! If she wasn't pouting so much.

"Susie, this is your new mommy."

"I'm not Susie! I'm Samuel!"

I know what I have to do. Quickly I get to my feet, grab the little one and plant a swat on each cheek. Then I planned to kneel down and explain-forcefully-that she was to be respectful. I wasn't expecting her to start kicking, screaming and thrashing in a full blown tantrum.

Oh, great. I grab her and try to place her over my knee, but she is flailing so much that it is a very difficult task. But after an embarrassing minute, she is properly positioned and I began to explain in the time honored way that her behavior is not acceptable. She responds with kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. At this point, I'm just waiting for her to go limp and sob.

Five minutes later...

God, this kid has a will of iron! The guard is still hovering in case I need help. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can't even bare her bottom, she's thrashing so badly. Nor can I reach the Mother's Helper in my purse. Nor can I ask the guard to get it for me. Susie's screaming too loudly. Time to try the thighs.

Five minutes later...

The guard withdrew for a moment and came back with a large hairbrush, which he handed to me. Then he tried to grab Susie's wildly kicking legs. It took four tries, and the poor man will have bruises on his hands.

Time for me to slide up her impossibly loose rejuvenation robe. Done. Finding her scratching, flailing, spank-blocking little hands encased in the folds and those kicking legs held by the guard, and that I finally have a hand free to wrap around her thrashing little body and hold her still, Susie reverts to the only weapon left in her arsenal. She screams at the top of her lungs. I apply the hairbrush forcefully to the seat of learning, and she screams louder. I didn't think that was possible. So I keep applying the hairbrush until she cries properly, goes limp, and begs for me to stop.

Five minutes later...

I don't care how long this takes, kid. There can only be one winner to this battle of wills, and that has to be me. I have started applying the hairbrush as fast as I can, and I am using her entire area from waist to knee as a palette to paint red. I don't want to bruise her. Of course, I'm fairly sure I already have. But no blisters. Which means I have to stop at some point. And she knows that. Well, this is one little Penny who's getting a Cornerstool and Painties. Like right NOW. That way I can apply pain without doing any damage, during necessary breaks in the spanking. Mom always did wish I'd have a kid just like me. Oh, she's got her vengeance. In spades.

I don't believe this! From the faint glimpses of my watch, I realize that the spanking has already lasted for fifteen minutes, five of them with the hairbrush. She has a nano-web, so how can she do this? And she was just medically examined, so it's not like there's any problem there. She already has some nasty looking bruises rising, and if I'm not careful, some of them could turn into hematomas. When we get home, she's getting nanolotion and the delta inducer. At least I already have one of those.

Five minutes later...

FINALLY, I hear some small sobs, obviously through clenched teeth. Encouraged, I ask the guard, who can finally hear me, to spread my naughty little Penny's legs. Time to break her with some pounding on the inner thighs. I wasn't expecting her to go ballistic.

"YOU PERVERT! YOU WHORE! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO RAPE ME!!!" Stunned, I automatically offer a feeble, "Of course not!" before realizing I cannot be heard. So I show her what my real purpose is. I begin to attack the tender skin on the inside of the thighs with the hairbrush.

Susie screams some more, but sobs are beginning to cut in more and more often. I am somewhat chagrined to realize that what broke her was not the hard hairbrushing, but the thought of being sexually assaulted.

Five minutes later...

Okay, mission accomplished. Susie is crying hard and has gone limp. I would have liked to make her beg for mercy, but we'll let that wait for another time. Letting her slide off my lap, I strip off the gown and propel her to the corner. Even while she is still bawling, she tries to escape. This earns her a nice swat. Again and again and again.

My hand stings terribly, my arm is very tired, and I feel very sympathetic. Susie can't stand the thought of giving up the fight. I know that feeling, though I never carried it so far. She's spent so much time being the adult in charge that she just can't realize that she has to obey right now.

After an uncountable amount of swats and placements in the corner, Susie gives up and slumps against the wall, crying so piteously that my heart aches. Far worse than the burn in her bottom is the giving in, I know. Oh, this child is very like me indeed.