By Lee Todd Lacks
Stacy woke up soaking wet as she peered out the window longingly towards her best friend Bridget's house swooning as she recalled Bridget’s momma saying, "You're like family, sweetheart." to hear Bridget and her sisters talk she couldn’t help but feel ashamed for never having felt the sting of the hairbrush as she lay, squirming and squealing, over her momma's lap for each and every childhood misdeed Bridget’s momma knew she was very much in need whenever Stacy went over to the Thompsons for a visit she never understood why Bridget's sisters couldn’t sit The only child her parents couldn’t be bothered with as they hosted their lavish banquets and cocktail parties in an effort to ingratiate themselves with a more privileged class of people never knowing that their little girl was living in a disaffected haze until she had the good fortune to meet the kind and cheerful girl who lived at the end of the street in a ramshackle house with lots of hugging and kissing and all the heartfelt emotions she had been missing getting in trouble with Bridget and her sisters taught her lessons she never learned at home Bridget’s momma never wasted time sending her naughty daughters' to their rooms. She preferred to get to the bottom of their issue, right there and then when she told one or more of them to go and fetch the brush so she could make their prepubescent bottoms blush while all of the other girls watched and listened after bearing witness to so many well-tended rear ends Stacy began to crave that painful sort of attention that mothers give to the daughters they adore Bridget knew it was time for her bottom to be sore so she could join the sisterhood Mrs. Thompson didn't have to ask why Stacy wasn’t being good the day she took the girl to task she simply understood, “Hike your skirt up in the air and shimmy down your underwear. Now, lay face down upon the bed so I can make your bottom red!” Stacy wept for joy, though she couldn’t explain why as Bridget and her sisters solemnly stood by while Bridget’s momma gave her another reason to cry. and when she finally got through spanking Stacy’s bottom red, Mrs. Thompson held her tight as Bridget's sisters said, “It’s gonna be alright.” Stacy shook and sobbed, but she was past the point of caring what she was or wasn’t wearing, with her rear end brightly glowing she beamed from the pain of knowing she was one of the girls. Years later, Stacy confided to her best friend, "I might have been willing to bear your mother's harsh affliction, but you, my dearest Bridget, you were my addiction."
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