POSTAGE DUE by Peaches My fantasies have always included spanking leading to explosive sex. For years my secret obsession was enhanced by reading romantic novels where the dominant Scottish lord bares the bottom of his lady for a hot, spicy spanking. Needless to say, when I found the ad for "Sassy Ladies" I thought my prayers had been answered...I was not alone. I tend to go overboard in my hobbies. After receiving my first issue of "Sassy Ladies", I wrote all the companies in the back for more spanking materials. Soon my mailbox was overflowing....well not quite, but it is a nice thought for this little lady seeking a bun warmer. My Southern hometown with a population of 1800 is quaint and friendly. In otherwords, everyone knows your family, your history and what you did last night. As a single 36 year-old high school English teacher, Sunday school teacher, community leader, and part owner of the local radio staton...it is important to be discreet in my secret passion. Like in most small towns, the post office is the heart of the community. Our postmaster is getting up in years. Sometimes he puts your mail in one of the boxes surrounding yours; or if your box is full, he'll put it in the box of your employment; or if he forgets you are no longer a girl in pigtails, he'll put your mail in your parent's box. It doesn't cause that many problems. Everyone exchanges mail and visits...or they put it in the misplaced mail slot, which use to be the local mail slot. When I started ordering erotic materials, I totally forgot about our local problem with the postal system. But trust me, I'll remember from now on. I'm actually writing this essay while leaning bare over my desk at home waiting for my lastest surprise visitor to set fire to my fanny.... My postal problem began four weeks ago. I was home grading papers and listening to an oldies station when the doorbell rang. It was ten o'clock; and I was wearing a Disney nightshirt and thick socks. I've never been a modest person, so I didn't run for a robe before going to the door -- but I did look through the peep hole before opening the door. It was Jeff Mosley, a 50 year-old athletic hunk for whom I use to babysit his two darling daughters. His father and my Dad are best friends; and Jeff often attends football games with them. "Hi Jeff." Then seeing his grim face, I panicked. "Is everything OK? There hasn't been an accident? My parents...." "Everyone's fine; except maybe you." He entered the room, closing and locking the door behind him. As he turned to face me, I saw the large envelope in his hand from C.F. Publications...and it was open. "I believe this belongs to you. It was in my box." I blushed to my red roots. "Thank you." Playing with the opening I continued, "Did you ....look inside?" Jeff roared, "You're DAMN RIGHT I looked inside! I was so proud of you. I thought you had sold another manuscript. I wanted to read it and praise your success. But ...but...THIS...." He grabbed the envelope back, slammmed it on the table, and started pacing. "That's not what a good girl reads for research." I was getting angry. He had some nerve...damnit, I'm an adult. As I often do, I spoke before thinking. "Jeff, that's not research. I read it for pleasure. Thank you for returning it..." "PLEASURE!!" He had my arm and was pulling me to the sofa before I knew what was happening. "If this is pleasure, then maybe you need an Uncle George like in those stories." He sat in the middle and yanked me across his lap. I fought like a wildcat... kicking, scratching, biting, and cursing. It was the latter -- a remark about his parentage or lack of --- that brought his iron hand down on my raised butt. "SHIT!!" I saw stars. "Why Peaches. I thought this was pleasure. I certainly plan to enjoy myself for the next hour or so." SLAP! SLAP! My stomach did flip flops as I became aroused. This was my babysitting fantasy about Jeff. When I was sixteen, I had dreamed of being bare over his knee for a bun burning spanking. I purposely did things with his daughters to annoy him --- kept them up past midnight; fed them sweets before bed; and left the kitchen in a wreck. He never did or said anything, but I was his baby-sitter of last choice. The spanking had stopped. Jeff rubbed my throbbing rearend as the dark pink glowed through my white cotton panties. "Peaches, in that story Uncle George said a well-spanked girl should be bare." Without another word, Jeff pulled my panties down to my ankles and totally off. I held myself perfectly still keeping my thighs tightly together. His hand slowly worked back up from my heels to my moist thighs and warm buttocks... squeezing, rubbing, and finally lightly patting. Softly Jeff whispered, "I often thought this was what you needed as a teenager. Boy, I wanted to do THIS everytime you babysat. However..." Jeff's hand slid between my legs to discover how turned on I was. "I wasn't divorced then, and baring a naughty teenager would not have sat well with my wife." He teased my clitoris. I trembled with uncontrolled titillation and moaned as I lefted my ass to his hand....but he withdrew. "Not yet. I think I should make these cheeks redder first. And for my pleasure..." He separated my legs, so I was totally exposed to him. "I'm enjoying the view and your kicking." Jeff then started spanking me VERY HARD. It sounded like gunshots. I twisted, kicked, moaned, whimpered, and slowly rose to climax. Suddenly I stiffened and my eyes glassed over as I crossed into ecstasy. Jeff caressed my torched bottom. I sighed and twisted to look at him. Breathlessly, I said, "Thank you." "Happy to oblige. I liked it too." I smiled as I felt exactly how HARD he liked it pressing against my stomach. Jeff helped me up. He pulled my Disney top off saying, "Now that we have taken care of the little girl, let's take care of the woman. " He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom. The next day it took all my control not to kiss the elderly postmaster when I picked up my mail. Jeff and I not only decided to date, but also to have a spanking relationship.