DEAR ANNE: SWIMMING IN THE DEEP END

                                 by

                      Goodgulf and Imreadonly




Part 1 (by Goodgulf)

Dear Anne:

I've just finished my Freshman year of college, and I'm staying 
the summer with my cousin, "Jane."  She graduated a couple of 
years ago and lives on her own and has a great job, so she doesn't 
mind having me.  And my folks sent her some money, so it's not 
like I'm burden.  I've always looked up to my older cousin, 
especially when I entered my teen years, but lately I'm a bit 
depressed by her.  She's got a great body, while mine....  She's 
tall, I'm short, and let's just say that the boob fairy never came 
for me.  Some people say that I'm still growing, but I'm sure that 
I'll need implants if I ever want to wear something low-cut. 

Anyhow, the second or third day I was here we had a "girl's night 
in" and got drunk on tequila.  It wasn't shooters -- we mixed up 
some great drinks in the blender -- but tequila was the devil it 
always is.  Sometime around two AM, I was crying about how I've 
seen guys with man-boobs bigger than mine, and Jane came up with a 
solution.  The problem is she remembered it when we sobered up and 
insisted that we had to go through with it.

It involves showing off my assets -- meaning my ass (which is nice 
and round and gets compliments).  She dragged me out shopping to 
this exclusive boutique and bought me the tiniest bikini that I 
ever saw.  I'm not sure if it's actually beach-legal; in front it 
barely covers my slit, and in back there's only this narrow strip 
of buttfloss.  The top might as well be a pair of postage stamps 
just covering my nipples.  (We had to get a special top to match 
my round bottom and flat chest.)  I usually trim my bikini line, 
but everything had to go if I was going to wear this suit without 
showing hair, and Jane bullied me until it all went.  Afterwards I 
looked in the mirror; my butt (the asset that I was going to start 
flaunting) was okay, but from the front I looked maybe 10 or 12.  
I didn't really want to wear it to the lake, but Jane insisted.  
She even took a personal day so I could test out the suit on a 
weekday when there wasn't a million people at the lake.  I went 
along with it, but, when we got to the lake, there was no way I 
was leaving the car in the thong.  None.  I had it under my 
clothes, but I wasn't showing it off.

Of course Jane hit the roof.  She pointed out that one of us had 
the summer off and the other one was using up a personal day, and 
she had driven out to the lake, using her gas, and she wasn't 
leaving early.  Then she rummaged around in her trunk a bit and 
came back with a bag that Rachel, Jane's brother's step-daughter, 
had left in the car the last time Jane had taken her to the lake.  
There was a 2-piece suit in there, a girlie-girl one.  The frills 
on the bottom made sure that nothing would even show an outline.  
I didn't like it, but Jane wasn't leaving, and I had to wear 
something, so I went to the changing area.  When I left, my best 
asset was totally concealed by the frills on that tight little 
suit.  (Even the top was a bit tight.)

There were some teens that looked like they were having a party, 
but Jane said she didn't like their loud music and led the way to 
an area populated by families (mostly mothers with kids).  I was 
enjoying the water, but then I looked around at all the kids 
splashing around me.  Anne, I practically died with embarrassment 
when I realised how well I blended in with them.

Back to the beach, I heard one mother bawling out her daughter 
about pantsing her little brother, saying that, if she did it 
again, the girl was going to get a spanking...even if it meant 
taking off her one-piece suit to give it to her.  Ignoring that 
I got some sun around where Jane was then, after a while, headed 
back into the water to cool off.

When I came back out, I overheard Jane talking about me -- saying 
that I was her little sister and that I was tall for my age.  She 
was complaining about me, and the mothers were saying that I was 
not too old for a good spanking.  A couple of them even offered to 
give me one, suit up or down (Jane's choice)....  

I ducked back into the water, pretending not have heard, but later 
a couple of the mothers spoke sharply to me, as if I were a kid, 
and they were in charge of me or something.  Later, in the 
changing room...some of those mothers saw that I was completely 
bare down there.  One even commented that I shouldn't worry, that 
any day now my big girl hair would come in.  It might have been 
accidental, but I doubt it.  

Well, during the next girl's night in, I got tanked and let Jane 
have it -- with both barrels.  And she had the nerve to call me an 
ungrateful little brat.  Like having me for the summer was a real 
big thing or something.  She then pointed out how much she had 
spent on that new bikini (including substituting the top).  She 
said that, the next time we went to the lake, I'd either wear it 
OR I'd wear Rachel's old suit again -- and, if I did that, then 
she'd let those mothers "watch" me.  She even said that, if 
anything happened, it wouldn't be the first time that a bikini was 
lowered for a spanking.  Then she insisted that I be ready to wear 
my thong.  Neither of us were in any shape to hold a razor, so I 
used this cream, and now I'm totally smooth again.

Now Jane says that she's going to use another personal day and 
take me to the lake tomorrow.  She says she's not going to take 
any lip, that I'm going and that I'm going to wearing one of those 
two suits.  I could call my folks but I don't have the money for a 
ticket home.  I'm afraid that, if I try to tell Jane's folks, 
they'll just laugh at me...or worse.  (The one thing I didn't 
envy about Jane growing up is that her folks spanked while mine 
didn't.)  If I hit that lake in Rachel's suit then I'd look like 
a tall tween that needs looking after, but I can't show what that 
bikini will show.  What should I do?

Swimming in the Deep End

		******************************

Dear Swimming:

You are at the age where it is you, not your parents, who has to 
make the tough choices in life.  You say that your folks gave your 
cousin money, but I truly doubt it was enough to cover all of your 
living expenses or to deal with the bother of having a roommate.  
Your cousin listened to your problems, and, in an effort to help 
you with your body issues she spent a lot of money on a new bikini 
to help you blossom.  She even used a valuable personal day just 
so you could try out the suit when there would be fewer people at 
the lake.  And then, after you throw all of that back in her face, 
she's willing to take another personal day, just to help you.  
With all of that, I'm not surprised that she called you an 
immature brat.

You have to decide: do you want to spend the summer with your cool 
cousin, who lets you drink underage and is trying to help you with 
your body issues...OR run back home to mommy and daddy (I'm sure 
they'd arrange a ticket for you if you ask).  If you stay, then 
remember: it's her house, her rules, and your choice about which 
suit you wear.  Either dress like the adult you are or like the 
whiny child you are currently impersonating.

In any case, make sure you apply a lot of sun block to your bum.  
Either it will be showing with the thong, or, well, with your 
attitude, I'm sure one of the mothers will see that your bum gets 
tanned.

Whatever happens, you can rest assured that no one you know will 
find out.  If you wear the thong, you're "the girl from out of 
town with the killer suit," and, if you don't, you are just some 
nameless little girl getting her bottom smacked.

You could also put that anonymity to good use.  College is the 
time to experiment with life, and you haven't thought about the 
third option -- alternating.  Being a kid one time and a daring 
young woman the next.  I'm sure that, if you told Jane that you 
wanted to experiment with both suits, that she'd save the personal 
day so you could go as a little girl on the weekend (when there 
would be a horde of other kids there, some no doubt getting 
spanked) and dare the thong when there are fewer people around.

Here's hoping that you make the right decision.


Anne

		******************************


Part 2 (by Imreadonly)

P.S. --

On second thought, when you go to the beach, you should definitely 
wear the childish suit.  I'd also ask Jane to turn you over to one 
of the "spanking moms" for "looking after."  In fact, I'd pick the 
strictest mom, one who volunteered to spank you.  And make sure 
that Jane makes it clear that "Mom" has full authority to 
discipline you as she sees fit.  And let Mom decide if it's 
"suit up or suit down."

Then simply behave.  Easy, right?

After you spend the day with your new mom and don't get into any 
trouble at all, you will have proved to Jane that you are NOT a 
brat and made it clear to everyone present that you are not a 
child and should not be treated as one.

It's a fool-proof plan.  Victory is sweet!


A.

		******************************
        
           
Part 3 (by Goodgulf)

Dear Anne:

Your advice was horrible!

This weekend I went to the beach in Rachel's little two-piece 
suit, and I called Jane's bluff over being watched by one of 
the moms.  I ended up with Mrs. J watching me.

I didn't do anything too bad, not really, but early on I did a 
couple of little things to test Mrs. J, to see if she'd give me 
a swat, and, when she didn't, I felt safe.  How was I to know 
that she was making notes?  After spending the day at the lake, 
she had a laundry list of things, none of them all that bad, but 
you put them together, and it kind of sounded bad.

Anne, she took my bottoms down and spanked me.  Right there!  On 
the beach!  Everyone saw -- even little kids who laughed at me.  
And my ass is my best asset, but she didn't seem to notice that 
it looks a lot more mature than the rest of me.  She used her 
sandal and didn't stop until my butt was red and I was crying. 

When I got back to Cousin Jane's place, I called my aunt (Jane's 
mom), and she said that she wanted to see proof before she made 
up her mind about what to do.  But there's no way I was going to 
strip in front of my aunt.  Then she suggested I get Jane to 
drive me over, and I could wear the thong that Jane bought me so 
I would be technically beach-legal.  So we went over there and 
up to Jane's old bedroom, and I took down my jeans and showed my 
aunt the damage.  She agreed that it appeared bad, but wanted to 
see how the infamous bikini looked on me.  So I ended up with all 
my regular clothes off.  It was almost the same as being naked, 
but my aunt pointed out that she used to change my diapers, so 
she wouldn't be seeing anything new.

My aunt liked how I looked in that swimsuit, but, when she heard 
how much it cost, she hit the roof.  She couldn't believe that I 
had let Jane spend that much money and then not wear the suit.  
She said I was being an immature little brat, and she wished she'd 
had the chance to make sure I grew up differently.  Then she said 
something about how, in this house, being spanked at the lake 
meant getting a touch-up at home.  Anne, she went to the chest of 
drawers and dug around in Jane's old underwear until she found 
this evil-looking hairbrush.  A few seconds later, she was 
sitting on Jane's old bed, with me draped over her lap.  She 
proceded to spank my still-red bum, while telling me how she 
should have done this years ago.

When she was done, and I was still too busy crying to say 
anything, she left with my clothes.  She told me that, since 
I could wear the bikini in public, I could wear it here.  My 
uncle heard everything, and, when I came out, he commented on 
how mine was the roundest butt he'd ever seen in that shade of red.

For the rest of the evening, all I wore was that stupid thong.  
There was even a family BBQ, with Jane's older brother, his 
wife and stepdaughter (Rachel), and her younger brother there.  
Having my boy cousin see me in that thong was terrible.  But what 
was worse was how Rachel sniggered at me until Jane pointed out 
that mine didn't have to be the only red bottom in the house.

When we got back to Jane's place, she gave me an ultimatum.  
Either next time I'd go to the lake wearing the thong...or else. 
The "or else" wasn't just the threat of the spanking moms, it was 
also some of her old clothes that I'd have to wear to and from 
the lake.  She had retrieved them from her mom's place and made 
me try them on.  When I'm in them, I look like a tween who'd 
just had a growth spurt...someone who needs new clothes, but 
whose parents aren't buying her anything new until school starts. 
Jane says that if I want to act like a little girl, then she'll 
treat me like one.

Anne, what should I do?

Swimming in the Deep End

		******************************


Dear Swimming:

If you think my advice is horrible, then why are you writing me 
again?

As for your dilemma, it's your choice.  You can either go in the 
thong or go as a little girl.  If, even after practising in front 
of your family, you just can't handle being mostly nude at the 
beach, then welcome back to childhood.

Just don't be surprised if a spanking at the beach leads to one 
at home.  "Like mother, like daughter," as they say, and, with all 
you've put her through, I suspect Jane is itching to spank you as 
if you were a naughty little girl.

Anne

		******************************

Part 4 (by Imreadonly)

P.S. --

I encourage you not to give up on what you REALLY want.  If at 
first you don't succeed, try, try again.  Embrace your return to 
childhood with gusto and prove to Jane that, in your case, clothes 
don't make the woman.

Wear the clothes she gives you.  Put your hair in pigtails.  Keep 
yourself smooth "down there."  Ask her if Rachel and your boy 
cousin can come along.  Show everyone that you're not afraid.

When you see Mrs. J, thank her for the loving discipline she gave 
you.  Yes, it was embarrassing to get it in front of everyone, 
but it was probably a good thing that she made an example out of 
you to the other kids.  Besides, it could have been worse -- at 
least she didn't take your top off and use it to tie your hands, 
or make you stand on a bench and do "corner time" out in the open 
where everyone could see you.

Then (and this is the easy part) simply behave.  Don't test Mrs. 
J's or Jane's limits, especially since your snotty boy cousin 
will be watching you like a hawk and will be anxious to turn you 
in.

Be a little angel, and you'll prove to everyone you're ready to 
be an adult again.  (And enjoy a perfectly lovely carefree day 
at the beach in the process.)

Good luck, Swimming!  I'm looking forward to hearing how it goes.


A.

		******************************

Part 5 (by Goodgulf)

Dear Anne:

I hate you! I HATE YOU!

I tried to do what you said.  I had my hair in pigtails, wasn't 
wearing makeup, and was smooth "down there" before we went to the 
beach.  I even told Jane before we left that I wasn't going to 
wear the thong and changed into the little girl suit before we 
left the house, just to prove to her that dressing young didn't 
make me into a little girl.  When we got to the beach I sought 
out Mrs. J and thanked her, like you told me.  I told her that I 
had deserved every whack and thanked her not making me do corner 
time on the beach.

When I mentioned corner time, Mrs. J got a weird expression on 
her face, like she was thinking of something.

Then I behaved myself.  I was the model of perfect manners.  I 
might have been dressed as a child, but I was a perfect young 
lady.  Then some brat ran into me and knocked me over.  I don't 
think he did it on purpose, because he was running to catch a 
ball and I was in his way, but down I went.  When I fell, I 
rolled into some other kid's sandcastle, and that brat broke 
into tears, wailing about me ruining everything.

Anne, none of that was my fault.  I was just standing there, and 
this all happened to me.  Honest!

That's just what I told Mrs. J when she came for me, but she 
wasn't listening to anything I said.  She pulled me to where 
there were some beach chairs by the changing rooms.  They were 
shielded on one side by a wooden wall, made of vertical boards 
with maybe a quarter inch between each slat.  It seemed like half 
the kids on the beach followed us there, and, when she got there, 
she pulled down the suit bottom and started to spank me with her 
sandal again.  And while she was spanking she said she hadn't 
spanked me enough last time...that if she had, then I wouldn't 
have thanked her for the spanking.  So she spanked and spanked 
and spanked until I was exhausted and could only lay there 
sobbing.

Then she stood me up, took my suit, and made me face that wall 
totally naked.  She said that, if I was used to corner time, 
then facing this wall would have to do.  I was crying so hard I 
didn't notice at first, but, when I brushed some tears away, I 
saw eyes pressed to the gaps in the wooden wall.  Anne, I was 
standing naked and sobbing on that beach and everybody could see 
everything....  And it's all your fault!

I had to stand there forever until Mrs. J said I could go and 
gave me back my suit.  I dashed off to the water, and it felt 
good on my poor backside, but, when it was time to go, Jane 
didn't let me change in the changing room.  She just put a 
plastic bag on the seat with a towel over it, and I sat on 
that while she drove.

Anne, she went straight to her mother's house.  My aunt got out 
that damned hairbrush again and spanked my red butt even redder. 
Then she made me stand in the corner with my bottom on display 
and the door to the room open.  I heard all sorts of people walk 
past that door and most of them chuckled at the state of my 
bottom.

Then she made me eat dinner standing up, still in that little 
kid's suit.  But the worst thing she did was, as we were leaving, 
she handed Jane the hairbrush and said that next time I got it at 
the beach, she didn't have to bring me over for my "spanking at 
home."

When we got to Jane's place, I discovered that she had been busy 
while I was standing in that corner.  She had driven home and 
back again while I sobbed, or maybe she did while I was at the 
beach and lost track of her.

But it doesn't matter when she did it.  All of my clothes were 
gone, and she had substituted hand-me-downs and stuff from a 
consignment shop, and nothing I could wear made me look my real
age.  She said that, if I wanted to act like a little girl at 
the beach, then I could be one all the time.

Now I have to dress like a little girl, and Jane keeps joking 
about using that hairbrush if I don't behave "properly."  And 
it's all your fault!  I hate you FOREVER!

Swimming in the Deep End

		*****************************

Dear Swimming:

I hate to say this, but your outburst makes you sound like a 
little girl.  "I hate you forever" is something a ten-year-old 
says, not a college girl.

And you didn't follow my advice.  I told you to be very well 
behaved, but you decided not to follow that part of my answer.  
Part of being an adult who looks after herself is being aware 
of your surroundings, but did you notice a child running full 
tilt in your direction?  No.  Did you notice the other child 
labouring on that sandcastle and take steps to safeguard it?  
No.

Instead you were inattentive, and, as a result, a child might 
have been hurt by running into you and another one lost a 
sandcastle.  I'm not surprised that Mrs. J didn't listen to you; 
making excuses and blaming others is something a child does.

And now you blame Jane, your aunt, and even me for your 
circumstances while ignoring your own role in things.

What's stopping you from phoning your parents and asking them to 
send you a ticket home?  Nothing.

What's stopping you from asking them for money to buy your own 
clothes?  Again nothing.

At least nothing that I'm doing.

You appear to be embracing your return to childhood by acting 
like a little brat.  May I now suggest that you take the next 
step of this journey that you appear to be embracing?  You could 
ask June when your bedtime is and if she'd really spank you for 
missing your bedtime.  You might even suggest a reasonable time, 
such as 9:00 PM.  Then, at 9:05, you could emerge from your room 
in your nightgown, holding that hairbrush, and declare that 
you're calling her bluff.  Point out that she's never given a 
spanking in her life and that her mom's not here to bail her out 
this time.

Either you will have broken her plan to treat you like a child -- 
or you will learn how it feels to cry yourself to sleep with a 
red bottom.  Either way, I suspect you will secretly enjoy the 
outcome.

Anne



Edited by C. Lakewood