Sneaking Home: A Thanksgiving Story
Sneaking Home
By Goodgulf
"But I have to get home." Susan exclaimed.
"But I don't have the money to lend you." Valerie answered.
"Lend? I'm not looking for a loan." Susan replied. "I'm just asking you to pay me back the money I lent you."
"Well I don't have that money either." Valerie said with a shake of her hair. "I don't have any money at all."
"But you said you would pay me back." Susan whined. "You promised."
"I know I did, but I don't have the money. I just don't."
"But I have to get home for Thanksgiving and I don't even have enough for a bus ticket." Susan whined, sounding more like a petulant 12-year-old than the university student she was. "I can't even afford a one way ticket for six hour bus ride home."
"Well that's good then." Valerie noted. "Because a round trip ticket costs more and if you can't afford to get back here you'd have to drop out."
"Duh! I can get more money at home." Susan said, rolling her eyes. "But I have to get home first."
"Well can't you get a drive from someone?" Valerie suggested.
"Not without blowing a real creep, and I'm not doing that." Susan answered. "I mean, if I did that I might as well be selling it on the street."
"Or working for Holly's service, not that I ever would." Valerie added quickly. "But I hear her girls make $200 a 'date'."
"While Holly rakes in $300 for taking the phone call. Not that I've ever talked to her about that." Susan added that last bit just as quickly as Valerie had. "But you hear things, and if you're doing the work why should someone else make more. Anyway, there's no way I could set something like that up in time to make enough for a plane ticket."
"Thought we were talking about the bus." Valerie pointed out.
"We were, but if I was thinking of putting out it would have to be for airfare, not a drive in a heap of shit car or a ride on the bus. But since I'm not even thinking of that it's irrelevant. So how am I getting home?"
Valerie thought for a moment, which was a novel experience for her (something that was reflected in her grades). Then she brightened.
"Hey, I've got a great idea! And it will totally work! I saw it in this movie."
"Which movie?" Susan asked cautiously, not wanting to risk a crazy scheme.
"Oh, some old one. The Miner is a Major... No, there wasn't a coal mine in it, so maybe it was the Major and the Minor. It was something like that. Anyway, it was a boring old one but I was too drunk to change the channel and by the time I sobered up enough I was kind of into it."
"You've got drinking money but nothing to pay me back with?" Susan demanded indignantly.
"Oh, grow up. You know I never pay for my own drinks." Valerie said, adding a flip of her hair. "Anyway, there was this woman who had to get home, but didn't have the money for a train ticket."
"Yeah? Well I've got less because I don't have enough for the bus."
"It was an old movie. I think it's was black and white, or the colour was going out again."
Susan nodded. The entire dorm was 'borrowing' cable from the one person who paid for it, and sometimes (when there were too many sets on) it went weird.
"Anyway, she didn't have enough for ticket, so she pretended she was 12 and she got on for the children's price." Valerie continued.
Susan gave her friend a hard look.
"Do I look 12?" Susan asked rhetorically.
"Well the one in the movie didn't really look 12 either, but she dressed young and kept chanting nursery rhymes and stuff like that. She claimed to have some sort of gland problem and that sort of thing."
"And it worked?"
"Of course it did, only, well, it was a movie."
"So it wouldn't work in real life?" Susan asked.
"Well it could." Valerie insisted. "Why not? You just get someone to buy the ticket for you and act young. And it’s not like you have a choice."
Susan considered her options: paying for a drive home in the backseat of that creep’s car was out, and so was trying to get in contact with Holly. That left a risky plan. Susan didn't like her choice, but it was the only one she had.
"So how do we make me look young?" Susan asked.
Stage one, buying the ticket, worked. Valerie poised as Susan’s big sister sending her to the grandparents for the holidays. Susan felt ridiculous standing without a touch of makeup with tight undershirt flattening her breasts and her plainest T-shirt under it. Her hair was in pigtails, and Susan winced at what her hairdresser would say the next time she saw her. As for her skirt, it was way too high to wear only socks and the most boring panties she had (the ones she bought for that exercise class she had meant to go to) under it, but little girls didn’t wear stockings.
Stage two, getting on the bus, worked just as well. Once more Valerie made a big deal about how Susan was going to visit her grandparents, completely overacting the role. Susan thought her friend's performance had jumped the shark as Valerie invented dialogue.
"Now Sis, remember to be good or else grandpa might take you to the woodshed again. I know you think you’re too old for that, but grandpa won’t.” Valerie cautioned. "I know because when I was your age he didn't think I was too old."
"Oh, I'm sure he won't even think of doing that." Susan replied, blushing at the way Valerie was overacting.
"That's what I thought when I was your age. I was wrong too." Valerie smirked.
Then Valerie was loading Susan on to the bus and giving Susan's ticket to the bored driver.
Susan climbed aboard the bus and found a seat, and prepared herself for the most difficult part - phrase four. Susan knew it would be stretch, but she had to act like a twelve year old for the entire ride.
One thing that neither Susan or Valerie had considered that this was no longer the 1940s. Train conductors had been conscientious employers who cared about the 'honour' of their train and defended their company from any attempt to defraud it. On the other hand, bus drivers were underpaid and didn't care about anything except getting paid for their shift. One might notice that there was an unaccompanied minor, or one might not, but they certainly didn't care if someone should be using a half price or full price ticket.
But Susan never considered any of that. Susan had been coached by Valerie who had watched that movie again and had all sorts of antics at her fingertips. She coloured in a book, she complained loudly about little things, she kicked the seat in front of her, and generally made sure that everyone on the bus knew that she was just a kid. Susan had considered acting as a well behaved child, considered and rejected it; Susan knew that no one noticed a well behaved child and she had to be noticed as a child for the plan to work.
And noticed she was. First by the people beside her, then by all those within four rows, and finally almost everyone on the bus knew that there was an unaccompanied kid on the bus. One who kicked seats, threw things, raced back and forth to the bathroom, and otherwise made a spectacle of herself.
Susan thought of it as a job well done, but the rest of the riders on the bus thought of her as a real and total brat. Even the bus driver was vaguely aware of her presence.
Near the halfway point of their six hour journey things came to a head when they stopped at a rest stop. Susan thought of it as a relief; the bus had a bathroom, but it smelled and Susan didn't want to even think of using it.
There was a restaurant attached to the rest stop, but it was a truck stop style one rather than a fast food outlet. Looking at it, Susan wished she had more cash. She knew she might be able to afford a small fries or something at a fast food place, but had no idea how much things would cost at that roadside diner. Putting food outside of her thoughts, Susan headed to the free-standing restrooms, passing through a small anteroom on her way to the facilities.
When she emerged from the stall Susan felt better than she had since the start of her journey, and felt better still once she washed up and splashed some water on her face.
'I'll stretch my legs a bit until the bus is ready to go.' Susan decided. 'Maybe I'll even skip. Do 12-year-olds skip?'
Susan headed outside, but when she reached the anteroom she found her way blocked by three bulky women. She was about to deliver her patented "You've let yourself go and I'm still in my prime" look, when she remembered that she was supposed to be too young to know about a look like that. So instead she smiled brightly and declared: "You're in my way."
"Do you know who I am?" Snapped one of the women. "You should. You've been kicking the back of seat for the past three hours."
"Really? You should have said something." Susan said with a smile.
"I did." The woman snapped. "But you ignored me."
"And I'm the woman who's had to tell her kids that they shouldn't be like you." Announced another of the women.
"As for me, I'm your worst nightmare." The third declared.
"You're the crazy donkey that hides in my closet?" Susan asked innocently.
"No." The third women said firmly. "I'm the one that's sitting at the front of the bus. I'm the one that heard your sister warn you about how your grandparents will take behaviour of this type. So I'm the one that will be standing next to your side when your grandparents pick you up. And I'll be telling them all about your juvenile misbehaviour on this bus trip."
Susan blanched. If these women waited for her grandparents to show up then they would learn that there weren't any grandparents, and then Susan might be arrested for defrauding the bus company.
The three women smiled at Susan's discomfort.
"That's right." Gloated the third woman. "You're going to be starting this visit with a trip to the woodshed."
"Um, could you not do that? Please?" Susan asked with an innocent grin.
"What, you're afraid of starting your visit on the wrong foot?" Asked the woman whose seat Susan had been kicking. She gave Susan a broad smile, and Susan winced at that smile.
"Um, it's just... Please don't tell them?" Susan squeaked. "Please."
"So it's like that then." Smirked the third woman.
"Um, like what?" Susan asked.
"You're old enough to know that if something like that happens at the start of a visit it's just going to keep on happening." The third woman informed Susan with a smile. "When something like that happens on the first day then any little misstep, the slightest bit of lip, and it's back to the woodshed with you."
"Um, well, um, it's just, well, couldn't you just not tell them?" Susan pleaded.
"You mean let you get away with acting that way?" Asked the woman whose seat Susan had spent hours kicking.
"Or handle your behaviour ourselves?" Probed the woman who had been forced to caution her children not to act like Susan.
"Um, yeah." Susan answered, agreeing with the first woman.
The three women exchanged looks, then advanced on Susan.
"Um, well, um..." Susan gulped. "What are you doing?"
"What you said." Grinned the woman whose seat Susan had been kicking.
"Handling this ourselves." Clarified the woman who had been forced to caution her own children.
"But I meant the part about not telling my ... Let go!"
Susan couldn't believe what was happening. Working together three of them had no problem controlling her, and soon Susan was squawking as she was held over the lap of the woman who had been forced to caution her child.
"Stop! What are you doing?"
"Taking you in hand." The woman said as she brought her hand down hard on the seat of Susan's skirt.
Susan yelled for help, but no one came. The only time she had ever been in a position like this had been at a drunken party, and then it had been as a joke. Susan hadn't liked it much then and she hated it now. But now no one was listening to her when she demanded they stop. Or when she asked them to stop. Or when she pleaded them to stop.
Susan was kicking her legs, but she wasn't crying. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying.
"This is taking too long." Complained the woman who had overheard Valerie's comments about the woodshed. "Try this. Go on, or the bus will be leaving and we'll be still be doing this."
Susan craned her head around and caught a glimpse of hairbrush being passed over her back.
"What the fuck are you planning to..." Susan's demand for information was cut short by the impact of the brush on her backside.
The first whack echoed through the anteroom. Susan's shriek chased after it, and the shrieks kept coming. Then came the tears. Susan fought as long as she could, but she couldn't keep them inside forever and that awful brush found them.
"That's better." Smirked the woman whose seat had been kicked.
Susan hoped that those words would bring an end to things, but they didn't. That awful brush kept raising and falling. Soon tears were flowing down her face as she let go of every ounce of self control she had. Crying and kicking, she acted like the child she claimed to be.
When the awful spanking ended, Susan kept crying. Then the bus driver was honking the horn and three women were steering Susan back to the bus.
Susan tried to sit and forget what happened, but her bum was hurting too much.
When the bus finally pulled to a stop, Susan was one of the last people off the bus. She gathered her luggage and headed to the bathroom to restore her mature appeared, but when she got in there she couldn't help looking at herself in the mirror. With her hair in pigtails and tears marks and snot on her face she had to admit that she looked like a little who had just gotten a hard spanking.
Then Susan washed her face, and disappeared into a stall with her overnight bag. When she left her pigtails were gone and her clothes no longer put lie to her age. She went to the mirror and tried her best to repair her hair, but knew that her hairdresser would want to kill her for the damage she had done to it.
Still fighting a limp, Susan went to call a friend for a ride home. As she waited for her friend to arrive, Susan made a vow to herself.
"Next time I'll buy a return ticket and keep it safe." Susan promised himself. "I'll never try that half price ticket again. Even if I have to work for Holly to afford a ticket."
Sneaking Home
By Goodgulf
"But I have to get home." Susan exclaimed.
"But I don't have the money to lend you." Valerie answered.
"Lend? I'm not looking for a loan." Susan replied. "I'm just asking you to pay me back the money I lent you."
"Well I don't have that money either." Valerie said with a shake of her hair. "I don't have any money at all."
"But you said you would pay me back." Susan whined. "You promised."
"I know I did, but I don't have the money. I just don't."
"But I have to get home for Thanksgiving and I don't even have enough for a bus ticket." Susan whined, sounding more like a petulant 12-year-old than the university student she was. "I can't even afford a one way ticket for six hour bus ride home."
"Well that's good then." Valerie noted. "Because a round trip ticket costs more and if you can't afford to get back here you'd have to drop out."
"Duh! I can get more money at home." Susan said, rolling her eyes. "But I have to get home first."
"Well can't you get a drive from someone?" Valerie suggested.
"Not without blowing a real creep, and I'm not doing that." Susan answered. "I mean, if I did that I might as well be selling it on the street."
"Or working for Holly's service, not that I ever would." Valerie added quickly. "But I hear her girls make $200 a 'date'."
"While Holly rakes in $300 for taking the phone call. Not that I've ever talked to her about that." Susan added that last bit just as quickly as Valerie had. "But you hear things, and if you're doing the work why should someone else make more. Anyway, there's no way I could set something like that up in time to make enough for a plane ticket."
"Thought we were talking about the bus." Valerie pointed out.
"We were, but if I was thinking of putting out it would have to be for airfare, not a drive in a heap of shit car or a ride on the bus. But since I'm not even thinking of that it's irrelevant. So how am I getting home?"
Valerie thought for a moment, which was a novel experience for her (something that was reflected in her grades). Then she brightened.
"Hey, I've got a great idea! And it will totally work! I saw it in this movie."
"Which movie?" Susan asked cautiously, not wanting to risk a crazy scheme.
"Oh, some old one. The Miner is a Major... No, there wasn't a coal mine in it, so maybe it was the Major and the Minor. It was something like that. Anyway, it was a boring old one but I was too drunk to change the channel and by the time I sobered up enough I was kind of into it."
"You've got drinking money but nothing to pay me back with?" Susan demanded indignantly.
"Oh, grow up. You know I never pay for my own drinks." Valerie said, adding a flip of her hair. "Anyway, there was this woman who had to get home, but didn't have the money for a train ticket."
"Yeah? Well I've got less because I don't have enough for the bus."
"It was an old movie. I think it's was black and white, or the colour was going out again."
Susan nodded. The entire dorm was 'borrowing' cable from the one person who paid for it, and sometimes (when there were too many sets on) it went weird.
"Anyway, she didn't have enough for ticket, so she pretended she was 12 and she got on for the children's price." Valerie continued.
Susan gave her friend a hard look.
"Do I look 12?" Susan asked rhetorically.
"Well the one in the movie didn't really look 12 either, but she dressed young and kept chanting nursery rhymes and stuff like that. She claimed to have some sort of gland problem and that sort of thing."
"And it worked?"
"Of course it did, only, well, it was a movie."
"So it wouldn't work in real life?" Susan asked.
"Well it could." Valerie insisted. "Why not? You just get someone to buy the ticket for you and act young. And it’s not like you have a choice."
Susan considered her options: paying for a drive home in the backseat of that creep’s car was out, and so was trying to get in contact with Holly. That left a risky plan. Susan didn't like her choice, but it was the only one she had.
"So how do we make me look young?" Susan asked.
Stage one, buying the ticket, worked. Valerie poised as Susan’s big sister sending her to the grandparents for the holidays. Susan felt ridiculous standing without a touch of makeup with tight undershirt flattening her breasts and her plainest T-shirt under it. Her hair was in pigtails, and Susan winced at what her hairdresser would say the next time she saw her. As for her skirt, it was way too high to wear only socks and the most boring panties she had (the ones she bought for that exercise class she had meant to go to) under it, but little girls didn’t wear stockings.
Stage two, getting on the bus, worked just as well. Once more Valerie made a big deal about how Susan was going to visit her grandparents, completely overacting the role. Susan thought her friend's performance had jumped the shark as Valerie invented dialogue.
"Now Sis, remember to be good or else grandpa might take you to the woodshed again. I know you think you’re too old for that, but grandpa won’t.” Valerie cautioned. "I know because when I was your age he didn't think I was too old."
"Oh, I'm sure he won't even think of doing that." Susan replied, blushing at the way Valerie was overacting.
"That's what I thought when I was your age. I was wrong too." Valerie smirked.
Then Valerie was loading Susan on to the bus and giving Susan's ticket to the bored driver.
Susan climbed aboard the bus and found a seat, and prepared herself for the most difficult part - phrase four. Susan knew it would be stretch, but she had to act like a twelve year old for the entire ride.
One thing that neither Susan or Valerie had considered that this was no longer the 1940s. Train conductors had been conscientious employers who cared about the 'honour' of their train and defended their company from any attempt to defraud it. On the other hand, bus drivers were underpaid and didn't care about anything except getting paid for their shift. One might notice that there was an unaccompanied minor, or one might not, but they certainly didn't care if someone should be using a half price or full price ticket.
But Susan never considered any of that. Susan had been coached by Valerie who had watched that movie again and had all sorts of antics at her fingertips. She coloured in a book, she complained loudly about little things, she kicked the seat in front of her, and generally made sure that everyone on the bus knew that she was just a kid. Susan had considered acting as a well behaved child, considered and rejected it; Susan knew that no one noticed a well behaved child and she had to be noticed as a child for the plan to work.
And noticed she was. First by the people beside her, then by all those within four rows, and finally almost everyone on the bus knew that there was an unaccompanied kid on the bus. One who kicked seats, threw things, raced back and forth to the bathroom, and otherwise made a spectacle of herself.
Susan thought of it as a job well done, but the rest of the riders on the bus thought of her as a real and total brat. Even the bus driver was vaguely aware of her presence.
Near the halfway point of their six hour journey things came to a head when they stopped at a rest stop. Susan thought of it as a relief; the bus had a bathroom, but it smelled and Susan didn't want to even think of using it.
There was a restaurant attached to the rest stop, but it was a truck stop style one rather than a fast food outlet. Looking at it, Susan wished she had more cash. She knew she might be able to afford a small fries or something at a fast food place, but had no idea how much things would cost at that roadside diner. Putting food outside of her thoughts, Susan headed to the free-standing restrooms, passing through a small anteroom on her way to the facilities.
When she emerged from the stall Susan felt better than she had since the start of her journey, and felt better still once she washed up and splashed some water on her face.
'I'll stretch my legs a bit until the bus is ready to go.' Susan decided. 'Maybe I'll even skip. Do 12-year-olds skip?'
Susan headed outside, but when she reached the anteroom she found her way blocked by three bulky women. She was about to deliver her patented "You've let yourself go and I'm still in my prime" look, when she remembered that she was supposed to be too young to know about a look like that. So instead she smiled brightly and declared: "You're in my way."
"Do you know who I am?" Snapped one of the women. "You should. You've been kicking the back of seat for the past three hours."
"Really? You should have said something." Susan said with a smile.
"I did." The woman snapped. "But you ignored me."
"And I'm the woman who's had to tell her kids that they shouldn't be like you." Announced another of the women.
"As for me, I'm your worst nightmare." The third declared.
"You're the crazy donkey that hides in my closet?" Susan asked innocently.
"No." The third women said firmly. "I'm the one that's sitting at the front of the bus. I'm the one that heard your sister warn you about how your grandparents will take behaviour of this type. So I'm the one that will be standing next to your side when your grandparents pick you up. And I'll be telling them all about your juvenile misbehaviour on this bus trip."
Susan blanched. If these women waited for her grandparents to show up then they would learn that there weren't any grandparents, and then Susan might be arrested for defrauding the bus company.
The three women smiled at Susan's discomfort.
"That's right." Gloated the third woman. "You're going to be starting this visit with a trip to the woodshed."
"Um, could you not do that? Please?" Susan asked with an innocent grin.
"What, you're afraid of starting your visit on the wrong foot?" Asked the woman whose seat Susan had been kicking. She gave Susan a broad smile, and Susan winced at that smile.
"Um, it's just... Please don't tell them?" Susan squeaked. "Please."
"So it's like that then." Smirked the third woman.
"Um, like what?" Susan asked.
"You're old enough to know that if something like that happens at the start of a visit it's just going to keep on happening." The third woman informed Susan with a smile. "When something like that happens on the first day then any little misstep, the slightest bit of lip, and it's back to the woodshed with you."
"Um, well, um, it's just, well, couldn't you just not tell them?" Susan pleaded.
"You mean let you get away with acting that way?" Asked the woman whose seat Susan had spent hours kicking.
"Or handle your behaviour ourselves?" Probed the woman who had been forced to caution her children not to act like Susan.
"Um, yeah." Susan answered, agreeing with the first woman.
The three women exchanged looks, then advanced on Susan.
"Um, well, um..." Susan gulped. "What are you doing?"
"What you said." Grinned the woman whose seat Susan had been kicking.
"Handling this ourselves." Clarified the woman who had been forced to caution her own children.
"But I meant the part about not telling my ... Let go!"
Susan couldn't believe what was happening. Working together three of them had no problem controlling her, and soon Susan was squawking as she was held over the lap of the woman who had been forced to caution her child.
"Stop! What are you doing?"
"Taking you in hand." The woman said as she brought her hand down hard on the seat of Susan's skirt.
Susan yelled for help, but no one came. The only time she had ever been in a position like this had been at a drunken party, and then it had been as a joke. Susan hadn't liked it much then and she hated it now. But now no one was listening to her when she demanded they stop. Or when she asked them to stop. Or when she pleaded them to stop.
Susan was kicking her legs, but she wasn't crying. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying.
"This is taking too long." Complained the woman who had overheard Valerie's comments about the woodshed. "Try this. Go on, or the bus will be leaving and we'll be still be doing this."
Susan craned her head around and caught a glimpse of hairbrush being passed over her back.
"What the fuck are you planning to..." Susan's demand for information was cut short by the impact of the brush on her backside.
The first whack echoed through the anteroom. Susan's shriek chased after it, and the shrieks kept coming. Then came the tears. Susan fought as long as she could, but she couldn't keep them inside forever and that awful brush found them.
"That's better." Smirked the woman whose seat had been kicked.
Susan hoped that those words would bring an end to things, but they didn't. That awful brush kept raising and falling. Soon tears were flowing down her face as she let go of every ounce of self control she had. Crying and kicking, she acted like the child she claimed to be.
When the awful spanking ended, Susan kept crying. Then the bus driver was honking the horn and three women were steering Susan back to the bus.
Susan tried to sit and forget what happened, but her bum was hurting too much.
When the bus finally pulled to a stop, Susan was one of the last people off the bus. She gathered her luggage and headed to the bathroom to restore her mature appeared, but when she got in there she couldn't help looking at herself in the mirror. With her hair in pigtails and tears marks and snot on her face she had to admit that she looked like a little who had just gotten a hard spanking.
Then Susan washed her face, and disappeared into a stall with her overnight bag. When she left her pigtails were gone and her clothes no longer put lie to her age. She went to the mirror and tried her best to repair her hair, but knew that her hairdresser would want to kill her for the damage she had done to it.
Still fighting a limp, Susan went to call a friend for a ride home. As she waited for her friend to arrive, Susan made a vow to herself.
"Next time I'll buy a return ticket and keep it safe." Susan promised himself. "I'll never try that half price ticket again. Even if I have to work for Holly to afford a ticket."
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