These two characters appeared in an earlier story: Rosie’s Birthday Treat.
Dr. Penelope Olive Ponsonby was wrapping up her day in the office when a text message popped up on her phone. It was from her former student Rosie-brat.
Sick in bed. Hate it hate it hate it!!!!!!!!
Dr. P knew the brat quite well and was familiar with her somewhat dramatic way of expressing her thoughts and feelings, but still, EIGHT exclamation marks. Really? The Top frowned, brows furrowing.
You okay, sweetie? She typed quickly and pushed the send button.
NOOO, not okay!!! Headache and aching all over!!! It’s killing me!!!
The professor grew a little alarmed. She knew Rosie had just returned from a work trip to a South American country where the Zeke virus was ravaging the population.
She rose from her chair, grabbed the leather briefcase, and flew out of the door.
Arriving at Rosie’s apartment, she quietly pushed the door open. Rosie was lying in her big bed, flushed in the face, Kleenex strewing around.
“Hello Rosie,” Penelope greeted the brat in a concerned voice.
“Oh hi Dr. POP,” Rosie greeted her former professor with a wry smile. The usually spirited woman looked defeated, misery written all over her fatigued face. “Thanks for coming,” her voice low and hoarse.
Dr. P sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Rosie’s forehead. Slightly warm.
“Been to the doctor’s, Sweetie?”
“Yeah, Urgent Care.” The sick woman replied, scrunching her cute little nose in detestation.
“What did the doc say? Is it Zeke?” Penelope asked softly.
“No” was the grumpy answer as Rosie raised her voice. “The old guy gave me a total of no more than three minutes of his time after I had waited for an hour!” The brat sounded indignant, “God damn it!”
“Shhh, calm down.” The Top’s eyebrow shot up but she thought it best to ignore the language and concentrate on Rosie’s illness at hand.
“What did he say then?” The professor repeated her question.
“No blood test or anything even after I told him where I had been! Just said I didn’t have skin rash or red eye so it wasn’t Zeke.”
“Well, what IS it then?”
“Upper respiratory infection, whatever that means,” the sick woman answered tersely, shrugging.
“Oh.” Penelope was relieved as she gently patted Rosie’s cheek. “It’s a common enough illness. Have you taken your meds?”
“Yeah. But it’s not doing any good I’m afraid,” Rosie complained. “I still feel like crap!”
The Professor narrowed her eyes. “When did you take it?”
“Half an hour ago!” Rosie pointed at the little antibiotics packet on the bedside table dismissively, her face betraying frustration at the apparent ineffective meds.
“Ah.” The older woman was aware that patience was not exactly this brat’s strength or virtue. “You know, Z-pak is very potent. Give it a little more time and you should feel better.”
The younger woman gave her teacher a glare, clearly not convinced. She curled up and her body started to rock from side to side restlessly, hands pounding on the bed.
“Settle down, Sweetie.” Ever so patient, Penelope cooed in a comforting voice, brushing a few strands of hair out of Rosie’s eyes and tucking them away behind her ear. “Stay still and try to relax and rest, okay?”
“Can’t!” Rosie spat out a miserable reply as tears rolled down her face.
Whoa. “Hey there.” Penelope grabbed a tissue, gently wiping Rosie’s face.“What’s the matter?”
A brief pause.
“WHY WHY WHY!” Rosie cried out, banging her head on the pillow.
“Why what, Sweetie?”
“THIS!” She shouted ruefully. “I hate this stupid body. Why is it so weak?! Why did it make me sick huh? I hate it!” Fresh tears poured out, “I never get sick ya know.”
“Shhh.” Penelope sighed and remained quiet for a second.
“I see.” She came to the realization that it was Rosie-brat’s attitude that needed an adjustment which would then hopefully lead to her calming down and taking care of her sickness. Something stronger than a Z-pak must be dispensed.
“Come here, I know just the way to help you calm down and rest.” So saying, the professor positioned herself on the edge of the bed and effortlessly pulled the petite woman over her lap, hitching up her pajama dress slip swiftly to the waist.
“Hey, whatcha doing?” Rosie immediately became alarmed.
“I believe you will benefit from some of my um … let’s just call it alternative medicine, shall we?” The Top said firmly.
“Nooo,” the upturned woman started kicking. “You can’t spank me today,” she whined.
“Oh?” The amused Top inquired politely, “May I ask why?”
“’Cause I’m S-I-C-K, duh!” Rolling her eyes, Rosie-brat emphasized her point by enunciating every single syllable of the word slowly and carefully.
SLAP! “Watch your tone, missy!” It was not a particularly hard swat but one the Top hoped would be sharp enough to get the brat’s undivided attention.
“Ow, sorry.” Though covered in cotton underwear, the sting on the bottom could still be felt acutely. Rosie’s hand instinctively flew to protect her innocent backside.
“Now listen to me, Ms. Rosie Young,” the Top instructed in a stern voice, gently removing Rosie’s hand away from her bottom and parking it by her side. “Cut out this silly tantrum immediately! I mean it!” SLAP, SLAP, two solid whacks, one on each cheek.
“Ow.” Obediently, Rosie stopped wriggling and kicking. She rested her head on the rumpled sheets, whimpering softly.
The Top continued in a more soothing tone, “Sweetie, all you need to do to get better is to stop fighting your body, calm down and rest.” She rested her palm on the upturned woman’s backside before continuing. “I can understand it’s difficult for someone who hardly gets sick, believe me I sympathize, but all the more reason to listen to your body. It’s saying it needs rest, and you ought to listen.” SMACK, SMACK, two more firm swats landed on Rosie’s poor cheeks. “You understand?”
“Ow.” Rosie opened her mouth and mumbled something, face still buried in the sheets. Her words were muffled.
“What was that?” Penelope asked while her arm continued to swing up and down forcefully.
Rosie lifted her head, “Ow ow. Well, you made it sound like it’s a living thing …”
“Well, it IS a living thing, is it not?” POP, POP, the sound of a slapping palm bounced against the wall.
“Ouch. I guess,” the chastised woman conceded, clenching and unclenching her bottom cheeks. “But I – I just feel that it should listen to ME, not the other way round.” She pouted.
How imperious, the Top shook her head, typical brat thinking. Rosie-brat thought she heard the lightest of chuckles. Penelope slowly pulled down the naughty woman’s cotton underwear to the middle of her thighs revealing two pink colored globes.
“Think it this way.” CRACK, CRACK, the Top resumed hand spanking the warm bare bottom. “Your body has treated you very well as you trotted the globe, has it not?” She paused briefly though they both knew it was a rhetorical question. “Now it’s your turn to take care of it.” SLAP, SLAP! Then the older woman’s tone became softer and tender as she tried patiently to make Rosie see her point. “Don’t you think you OWE it to your body to give it the best care possible, so it can recover quickly and go back to taking care of you?”
Though the sharp slaps on the flesh were beginning to sting more, Rosie found herself paying more rapt attention to the lecture instead of her poor bottom. She swallowed hard before lifting her head and turning around to Dr. P, a grin slowly emerging on her face.
“What?” The Doc asked.
“Um, have I ever told you” Rosie’s grin grew bigger, “that you were truly a very sensible woman?”
The Doc’s eyes smiled. “No, but I will take that as a compliment.”
Sensible. Good, I’ll show you sensible! Muttering to herself, Penelope delivered a half dozen crisp smacks adding more heat to the small fire on Rosie’s bottom which by now sported a nice rosy color resembling a ripening summer peach. The upended woman wiggled a little and her breathing slowed as tension left her body.
A pleased smile broke out on Penelope’s face teasing the corner of her mouth. She gave a final volley of several brisk swats. “I’m pleased to tell you Rosie, your bottom color now matches your name. Looks very SENSIBLE to me.” So saying, she patted the warm and smooth derriere a few times before pulling the brat up to a sitting position.
“Owi.” Rosie buried her face into the professor’s neck.
“Well?” Penelope gently squeezed the freshly spanked bottom. “Ready to rest?”
“Yes ma’am.” The brat blushed, nodding.
Dr. P helped the younger woman crawl back under the blanket and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“Sleep well, Sweetie. You’ll feel so much better when you wake up, I promise.” She added, “Oh by the way I brought your favorite chicken soup from the Soup Tzar Kitchen. I’m gonna leave it in the fridge, ok?”
Rosie’s face lit up, “Thanks Doc. You’re the best.” She gingerly sat up straight and gave Penelope a big hug. And the wisest.
“You are very welcome, Rosie-brat. Anytime.” The Top replied fondly.
Warm bottomed, Rosie fell to a sound slumber before the professor even left the apartment.
Driving back, the Top imagined Rosie-brat waking up from a restful sleep feeling much better, her usual spunk returning. The professor could almost see Rosie stretching and yawning, rubbing her spanked bottom and declaring with her usual flair, “Hey, Dr. P’s alternative medicine worked!”
Chuckling, Dr. Penelope Olive Ponsonby felt pleased with herself. A sound spanking after all, she mused, was not always for punishment. More often than not, roasting a brat’s naughty bottom is the only reliable way to bring her back to her senses!
Though a work of fiction, this story was inspired by a RL occurrence. I’m eternally grateful to a caring yet firm Top who generously dispensed a dose of her wisdom when I desperately needed it.
Feliz cumpleaños to a top-notch toply Top. 🙂