Chapter 18: in the Water
Anja shifted from foot to foot, the envelope in her hand looking impossibly small. The afternoon sun caught the blonde highlights in her hair, making her look even younger than her eighteen years.
“I am really embarrassed,” she began, her voice barely above a murmur, “but my mom gave me this letter for you. And you have to read it right away, please.”
Derek took the proffered envelope, his fingers brushing against hers. She flinched back as if burned. He gave her a reassuring smile before sliding a finger under the flap. The paper inside was crisp, the handwriting a neat, looping cursive.
Dear D,
I am very happy that you are Anja's babysitter today and that you also supervise her homework time. Unfortunately, I couldn't find you on SafeGirl somehow?
Anyway don't hesitate to punish her like one of your own girls if she misbehaves or doesn't do her homework properly. She has her Control Book with her.
Thank you for your trouble.
Anja's Mom
Derek let out a low, sarcastic laugh. “I’ve heard that a few times since I’ve been living here.”
Anja’s cheeks flamed a brilliant scarlet. “I’ll be on my best behavior! You certainly don’t have to punish me!” She clutched her backpack to her chest like a shield.
Just then, the patio door slid open and Katja emerged, her arms laden with a teetering pile of towels and brightly colored swimsuits. The three other girls—Fiona, Petra, and Sabine—trailed behind her, their cheerful greetings to Anja cutting through the awkwardness.
“Please make sure the girls do not jump from the edge of the pool,” Katja said, handing the stack to Derek. “It’s not very deep.” He nodded, taking the bundle. Katja hesitated, twisting a strand of her long brown hair around her finger. “I’m going to have an ice cream with a friend in town.” Another pause. “You will allow me to go, won’t you?”
Derek raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “What is the magic word when a well-behaved girl wants something?”
Katja’s posture straightened almost imperceptibly. “Please,” she said, her voice softening. “Can I go out for ice cream today?”
He smiled sweetly at her. “Of course you can!”
Katja turned, a look of relief washing over her face, and was almost at the terrace door when Derek’s voice, loud and clear, stopped her in her tracks. “But young lady, you will be home by 2 o’clock at the latest, and you will behave yourself.”
She froze, then slowly turned to stare at him. The four girls by the pool had fallen utterly silent, their eyes wide as they watched the exchange. The only sound was the lazy buzz of a bee in the lavender bushes. A deep blush crept up Katja’s neck and into her face. “Yes, D, I will,” she mumbled, before disappearing hurriedly into the house.
Derek clapped his hands together, the sound making Anja jump. “Right. Girls, please get your bathing suits and get changed. But no one is going in the water yet!”
He sorted through the pile on his lap. He held up a frilly, pink one-piece. “Fiona?”
Fiona nodded, taking it with a slight sigh. “This thing is so embarrassing. I really need a bikini.”
“Me too!” Petra chimed in, grabbing the lime green swimsuit from the top. “These swimsuits are so horrible! We are not 12 years old anymore.”
Sabine, who had been inspecting her nails, looked up with a smirk. “Why do you two need a bikini? You need real boobs to wear something like that.”
“Sabine! Behave yourself!” Derek’s tone was sharp, brooking no argument. He looked at the remaining items. Next to a sleek black bikini was a simple blue one-piece. Katja had probably brought it for Anja, but the girl was already unzipping her backpack, pulling out her own brightly patterned suit.
He handed the blue swimsuit to Sabine.
“That’s not mine. The bikini is mine!” she protested, her dark eyes flashing.
“Why do you need a bikini, Sabine?” Derek asked, his voice deceptively calm. “You may be older than the two of them, but your cleavage isn’t any bigger.”
Sabine’s mouth snapped shut. The embarrassment was instant and hot, staining her cheeks. She snatched the blue suit from his hand without another word. Fiona and Petra exchanged a glance, pressing their lips together to stifle their laughter.
“Get undressed, girls,” Derek said, settling back into his chair as if he’d just asked them to pass the salt.
A beat of uncertain silence followed. Then Petra, with a roll of her eyes, broke it. “Don’t be like that. I want to get into the water and not waste time changing inside.” She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pushed them down, stepping out of them with practiced ease. “D has already seen us all naked. Well, except for Anja.”
That seemed to break the spell. Fiona, with a quiet resolve, unbuttoned her floral sundress and let it puddle at her feet. She stood there, pale and slender, her small, high breasts and surprisingly round bottom looking almost sculpted in the dappled sunlight. She didn't try to cover herself, simply waiting with a calm acceptance.
Anja, however, turned her back to everyone, fumbling with her clothes with trembling fingers. Her body was softer than Fiona’s, with a gentle curve to her hips and thighs, her skin flushed with self-consciousness.
Sabine was the slowest, her movements stiff. She kept her head down, her long black hair falling like a curtain to shield her face as she reluctantly shed her clothes. Her body was taut and athletic, all lean muscle and sharp angles, a stark contrast to the softer curves of the others.
And then there was Petra. She stood proudly, hands on her hips, a broad grin on her face as she enjoyed the sight of her own nakedness and the effect it was having. Her auburn hair was a short, messy cap, and her body was a compact, energetic form—petite but firm, her breasts small and upturned, her bottom a perfect, pert curve. She seemed to vibrate with life, completely at ease in her skin.
Four naked girls, standing in the sun-drenched garden. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and blooming jasmine, and the moment stretched, fragile and charged.
Derek stood up, his movement breaking the tableau. “So, girls,” he said, his voice casual as he walked towards the outdoor shower mounted on the side of the house. “I’ll turn on the garden shower for you. You take a quick shower and then put on your swimsuits.” He cranked the handle, and a spray of cold water arced out onto the patio stones.
“After you are ready,” he continued, turning back to look at them, his expression now serious, “we’ll have a quick word about behavior around the pool.”
The girls shuffled toward the shower, the cool spray misting the air around them. Fiona was the first to step under the water, her small breasts tightening immediately as the cold hit her skin, her nipples puckering into hard, pink points against the chill. She crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks flushing as she felt Derek’s gaze.
Petra laughed and spun under the shower, the water plastering her short auburn hair to her skull. Her own nipples, visible through the thin fabric of her swimsuit, stiffened into obvious peaks, but she seemed not to care, too absorbed in the moment. Sabine, however, turned her back, her athletic frame tensing as the water traced the lines of her firm bottom and the dark triangle of hair between her legs.
Anja hesitated at the edge of the spray, her body trembling slightly. When she finally stepped under, her soft, full breasts jiggled with the movement, and her nipples hardened instantly, standing out in stark relief. She cupped her hands over herself, trying to hide the thatch of blonde curls at her apex, her face burning with a humiliation so profound she couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.
After a quick, shivering rinse, they scrambled into their swimsuits. The atmosphere loosened as the fabric covered them, the initial tension giving way to the familiar comfort of their group.
“Finally!” Petra exclaimed, adjusting the lime green straps over her shoulders. “I thought I’d freeze to death.”
Fiona nodded, pulling at the ruffled edge of her pink one-piece. “It’s better than nothing, I guess.”
Sabine yanked the blue suit into place with a scowl, the material stretching tight across her hips. “Can we just get in the water now?”
Anja remained quiet, her eyes downcast as she tied the strings of her bikini top, her movements slow and deliberate.
Once suited, the four of them descended into a chaos of splashing and laughter near the pool’s edge. Petra pushed Fiona playfully, and Fiona shrieked, the sound echoing across the water. Sabine joined in, dunking Anja, who came up sputtering and giggling despite herself.
The noise level rose steadily, a cacophony of high-pitched voices and slapping water.
Derek watched them for a moment, his expression unreadable. He walked over to the old willow tree at the corner of the patio. With two sharp twists, he broke off a pair of long, whippy branches. He stripped them of leaves and twigs with quick, efficient motions.
The first branch cut through the air with a sharp, threatening hiss.
The sound sliced through the girls’ noise like a knife. All movement ceased. Four pairs of eyes snapped toward him, wide and startled, locking onto the slender willow rod in his hand.
“Have I finally caught your attention?” Derek’s voice was calm but carried an undeniable edge.
He let the silence hang for a beat, the only sound the drip of water from their suits onto the hot patio stones.
“There’s really only one important rule, but I want you all to internalize it.” He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Anja’s flushed face. “You are not allowed to jump into the water from the edge of the pool.”
A unified, hesitant nod passed through the group. For a moment, it seemed the lesson had been learned.
Then Petra whispered something to Fiona, who let out a stifled giggle. Sabine rolled her eyes, and a low murmur began to rise among them.
The second branch whistled, a louder, more vicious crack than the first.
Every trace of sound from the girls vanished instantly. They stood frozen, their earlier bravado completely erased by the sudden, visceral threat.
“I want to be sure that you’ve all understood me correctly,” Derek said, his voice low and deliberate. He tapped the willow rod against his palm. “So, who can tell me the rule?”
“I’m not allowed to jump from the edge of the pool,” Petra blurted out, her voice too bright and hurried.
The willow rod twitched in Derek’s hand. “That’s the rule. But I don’t think you really feel it yet.” His gaze, flat and assessing, swept over them before landing on Sabine. He moved with a quiet purpose that made the air feel thin. He closed the distance in two strides, his fingers wrapping around her upper arm. “Let’s make it unforgettable.”
“Hey, what are you doing?” Sabine’s protest was all sharp edges as he pulled her towards the wrought-iron chair.
He bent her over its curved back, the cool metal pressing into her stomach. Her black swimsuit stretched taut over her firm bottom. He took a quick, practiced swing. The thin rod sliced the air and landed with a sharp, elastic crack against the fabric.
“OWIIIIIIIIIIE!” Her cry was genuine, sharp with surprise and stinging pain.
“What are you not allowed to do, Sabine?” His voice was calm, a stark contrast to her writhing.
“I’m not allowed to jump off the edge of the pool!” she whined, her words muffled against the chair.
He released her arm. “And the next one, please!”
His hand shot out and grabbed Fiona’s wrist before she could back away. Sabine hurriedly scrambled upright, rubbing her backside with both hands, her face a mask of pained outrage. Derek guided the blonde girl into the same position, her petite form folding easily over the chair. The pink ruffles of her one-piece looked absurdly childish against the severity of the pose.
Swoooosh… The rod whistled this time.
“OWWWWWW!” Fiona’s cry was higher, more shattered.
“I’m not allowed to jump from the edge of the pool,” she gasped out immediately, her voice trembling.
He pulled Petra to the chair while Fiona, tears welling in her eyes, stumbled away rubbing the soreness through her suit. Petra went over with a dramatic sigh, but the tension in her shoulders was real.
Crack.
“OUUUCH!”
“I’m not allowed to jump from the edge of the pool!” Petra snapped, her cool-girl facade cracking under the sting.
Then his eyes found Anja. She had been trying to make herself smaller, a futile effort. “Young lady?” He pointed to the chair. The guest, her mother’s letter burning a hole in his pocket, moved without protest, her body language screaming a humiliated resignation learned elsewhere. She bent over the iron back, her soft bottom presented in the patterned bikini.
He stood behind her, took a moment, then swung. The rod landed with a hiss, sharper and meaner than the previous strikes, leaving a thin, immediate red welt across the crest of her cheeks.
“Ouch!”
“I’m not allowed to jump off the edge of the pool,” Anja whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.
He finally smiled at the four girls, all of whom now had their hands pressed against their stinging backsides. “Did everyone understand?”
They all nodded eagerly, a frantic, synchronized bobbing of heads. Their eyes were wide, fixed on the willow switch still held loosely in his hand.
But are you sure everyone understood?
He tilted his head, the kind smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Better do another round, just to be sure.”
He let the words hang in the humid air, watching their faces pale. “Better safe than sorry. We will do another round.”
A collective gasp went through them. Their wide eyes, fixed on him, were pools of pure horror.
He pointed a steady finger at the wrought-iron chair. “Same order as before. Sabine, you were first.”
“But D,” Sabine protested, her voice cracking, “there is absolutely no need for that!”
Fiona, however, had gone very still. She seemed to sense that any further protest would only dig them in deeper. “Sabine, please don’t complain now,” she whispered urgently. “You’re only making it worse.”
“But it’s so unfair!” Sabine wailed.
He moved quickly, closing the distance and grabbing her arm. He bent her over the curved metal back of the chair once more. The willow rod whistled down, slapping sharply against her swimsuit-covered bottom. A second red welt bloomed right where the fabric met her thighs.
“Ouch! I’m not allowed to jump off the edge of the pool!” she whined, the sting evidently fresh and biting. “Really, I did understand that!”
As Sabine scrambled up, rubbing her backside, Petra let out an impatient sigh. “Can we not do all five at once? I want to get in the pool already!”
Her comment struck pure horror into the others. “Are you crazy, Petra?!” Fiona cried out, aghast.
“Why five? No need for five more!” Anja added, her voice trembling.
“The spanking won’t stop at two strikes anyway,” Fiona explained, her words tumbling out in a frantic whisper. “With the rod, it’s always at least six! We all know that, so let’s quickly get it over with!”
Petra just shrugged in defense. “She’s not entirely wrong.”
Anja gave a reluctant, tiny nod of agreement.
A slow smile spread across Derek’s face. “But D does not know about the six... or at least he didn’t know until just now!” He laughed, a low, knowing sound. “Thanks for clarifying that, Petra. So, let’s do this the right way, shall we, girls?”
He grabbed the waistband of Sabine’s swimsuit bottoms and yanked them up hard, the fabric digging deep into the cleft of her buttocks. The earlier welts stood out starkly against her exposed, bare skin. The rod hissed through the air and connected with a sharp crack.
“Ouch! I’m not allowed to jump off the edge of the pool!” she yelped.
The next blows landed in quick, measured succession. “Ouch! I’m not allowed to jump off the edge of the pool!”
“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwie! No jumping, really! It burns so much!”
When he was done, six parallel, red welts stretched across the firm curves of Sabine’s bottom. He waved Petra over. To his surprise, she had already shimmied out of her lime green swimsuit and stood waiting, completely naked. She leaned over the back of the chair without being asked.
“I prefer being naked over having my pants pulled up between my legs,” she stated, her voice muffled against the metal.
“That’s fine, Petra.” He then looked at the remaining two. “Come on, Anja and Fiona. Stand right next to her and we will be done faster.”
After a moment of hesitant silence, filled only by the hum of insects, Fiona slowly peeled off her pink one-piece. Anja, with shaking hands, untied her bikini. They moved to flank Petra, their three bare bottoms almost touching as they bent over the chair back.
“You want to get it over with quickly so you can go swimming, right?” he asked.
A chorus of strained agreement came from the three bent forms.
He bent down and retrieved the second willow rod he had prepared earlier from the grass. He gave it a experimental swish through the air, making all three girls flinch in unison. Then, he held the rod out to Sabine, who was still massaging her own sore backside.
“Would you mind helping me?” he asked pleasantly. “Then you can all go into the water sooner.”
Sabine’s eyes, which had been glazed with pain, lit up with sudden, bright interest. “I... am I really allowed to spank Anja’s bottom?”
“Sure. And also Fiona’s bottom, if you want?” he replied, watching her closely. “Can you handle that?”
A wide, eager grin spread across her face, all memory of her own punishment seemingly forgotten. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach both a good lesson.”
He positioned himself behind Petra. She had her legs slightly spread, leaning far over the backrest, and there was no doubt the wet glistening between her legs wasn’t coming from her wet swimsuit alone. Sabine, meanwhile, took her place behind Anja, immediately raising her stick with a look of fierce concentration.
“Tell me when to start, D,” she said, her voice tight with anticipation.
You nod to Sabine.
A second later, the two rods cut through the humid air, landing with twin, sharp cracks on Petra’s and Anja’s upturned bottoms. Both girls yelp in unison, their cries sharp and sudden. A fresh, angry red welt immediately rises on each pale cheek.
Sabine doesn’t hesitate. She swings again with a fierce focus, and Fiona jolts as the willow connects with a stinging slap. “Well done, Sabine,” you say, your voice low and approving.
“The next strokes will be given on the seat of their bottoms.” Sabine, bursting with a strange, fierce pride, nods enthusiastically, her dark hair swinging. You lean over Petra and run a single finger lightly over the welt already forming on the sensitive undercurve of her own bottom. “Right here, Sabine.”
“Sure, just there,” she replies, her voice a little breathless.
“That really hurts there, you know,” Petra mumbles into the chair back, but Sabine is already getting the rod ready. Both blows land on their targets with precise, stinging accuracy. Two sharp cries pierce the afternoon, and two new red welts appear on the tender skin where thigh meets buttock.
Fiona’s cry a second later is just as loud and shattered. “That’s three. Two more to go, girls.”
The next blows are delivered in a synchronized rhythm, your rod and Sabine’s whistling and cracking. There are five distinct, red welts on each of the girls’ bottoms now, a matched set of burning lines. Sabine’s eyes flash with a wild excitement, her chest heaving.
“Final one, girls. Ready yourselves.”
With the final blow, Anja cries out louder than before, her hands instinctively shooting up to clutch her sore buttocks. “Ouch! Sabine hits just as hard as you do, D!”
“Owwwwie! She really does!” Fiona whines, already rubbing her own throbbing bottom after receiving her sixth blow.
“Thank you very much!” you say, your tone slicing through their complaints. “But I did not allow you to rub your bottoms, Anja and Fiona. We will do one extra for both of you!”
Sabine’s voice now sounds unnaturally authoritative and sharp. “Hey, that’s not for you to decide!” Petra snaps, still bent obediently over the back of the chair.
“But she’s absolutely right,” you counter calmly. “No one allowed the two to get up and rub their bottoms.”
“True, I just wanted…” Anja begins, her voice trembling.
“Furthermore, no one needs smart commentary from a girl who’s just getting her own bottom spanked, you know?” you interrupt.
Petra lets out a defeated sigh. “Sorry. I will shut up.”
“Two extra strikes will help you keep your mouth shut in the future, I think.” You then turn to your newly appointed deputy. “Sabine, can you do the bonus strikes on your own?”
“Of course I can handle the three!” she declares, her chest puffing out.
“What? That’s not fair!” Petra exclaims, twisting her head to glare. “Why is she allowed to spank us all?”
“No commentary needed from girls getting spanked, Petra!” you remind her, your voice hardening. “That’s two extra again. Guess that’s a total of four now.”
“You did your math homework,” Sabine adds with a smirk.
“Anja and Fiona get one extra for leaving position and another one extra for rubbing without allowance.” Both girls look horrified, their eyes wide, but they don’t dare to argue with you any further. “Afterwards, you all can go swimming. I’m going to get a drink.”
You turn and walk back towards the house, the sliding glass door a cool, dark rectangle ahead. Behind you, you hear the distinct, merciless whistle of the rod cutting through the air. It is followed immediately by a chorus of sharp, pained yelps that fade as the door shuts behind you.