Lavender Soap

By Lawrence Kinden All Rights Reserved ©


Lavender Soap

Norman sat in his place at the back of creative writing while Mr. King droned on and on about epiphanies. Norman’s eyes were only for the back of a girl sitting at the front of class. A freshman with vivid auburn hair and bright green eyes and freckles, she was short and slight and had a penchant for skirts that hinted at so much but revealed nothing. She smelled like lavender soap. Her name was Llewellyn Murphy, and she was new to the school.

“For this project you’ll need a partner. I’ll give you a few minutes.”

Trying not to look too eager, he strolled down the aisle to where Llewellyn was looking around nervously. Norman bit his tongue against his own nervousness. For the past four years of high school, he’d met many girls he’d have like to have gone out with, but had never mustered the courage to ask. With only a month left in his senior year, he was determined to at least talk to one.

“Hi,” he said.

“Oh, hello.” She looked at him, then looked around as though hoping someone might come to her rescue. Norman hesitated and was ready to back off when she sighed and said, “You’ll do, I suppose.”

They traded off whose house they worked at, the first night was at Llewellyn’s. That’s when Norman met her mother, Mrs. Murphy. She looked a lot like Llewellyn: auburn hair, green eyes, freckles, and long legs. She didn’t seem old enough to be Llewellyn’s mom. If he hadn’t known better he’d have said they were sisters

She left them to their work, analyzing the poetry of Robert Frost to present to the class next Monday, but every time she walked by the dining room table, Norman couldn’t help but glance at her, her long legs bare, her shapely rear encased in pink running shorts.

The next night was at Norman’s.

His parents insisted on having Llewellyn over for dinner after they worked on their homework. His family didn’t embarrass him as much as he had feared, except that his little sister, still in middle school, whined about her P.E. teacher and made kissy faces at him when she thought no one else was watching.

Norman drove Llewellyn home, and as he was walking her to the door, she said...

“I saw you looking at my mom, yesterday.”

Norman blushed and stuttered a denial, but Llewellyn waved him off.

“It’s okay. She’s young and beautiful. You’re not the only guy to look at her. I just hope I’m a beautiful as she is one day.”

Norman chuckled. “You are.”

Llewellyn beamed at him. “That’s sweet.”

And at Llewellyn’s the next night...

“You’re parents are really nice,” Llewellyn said, an envious tone to her voice. She was playing with one of her copper curls, staring at the dining room table.

Norman looked up from “The Road Not Taken”. “What? Your mom’s nice too.”

Llewellyn shrugged. “She’s kinda’ a pushover. She was pretty young when she had me, you know.”

Norman laughed. “My parents are definitely not pushovers.”

“Did... did they spank you?”

Norman choked on his soda.

Llewellyn laughed.

“When I was little,” he eventually managed.

“See, I’ve never been spanked. I wonder if maybe I...”

Norman waited for her to finish that sentence, but she didn’t. Norman returned his attention to Robert Frost, though he found it difficult to concentrate.

At Norman’s again...

“Young lady, I told you not to dawdle on your way home,” his mother was scolding his little sister as she marched her up the stairs.

Lewllen poked Norman as he focused on his laptop. They sat close together on the couch, their hips just barely touching.

“Is she gonna’ get a spanking?”

“Hmm? Uh, I don’t know,” Norman lied.

Only a few moments later they could hear the sound of Norman’s little sister getting her bottom warmed. The sharp smacks muffled by the bedroom door, the little girls’ cries high and juvenile. Llewellyn grabbed Norman’s hand and held tight the whole time.

And finally at Llewellyn’s again...

Her mother was out late for work, so they were alone in the small apartment. Norman had his laptop on the dining room table, putting the final touches on the powerpoint presentation, Llewellyn looking over his shoulder.

“Well, that’ll do it,” he said. “We won’t have to work over the weekend.”

Llewellyn actually smiled at him. “Not bad.” And then she kissed him on the cheek, a quick peck that made them both blush.

“Um... Norman? If I ask a favor, do you promise not to tell anyone?”

Norman could feel his skin tingling, his heart pounding. “Sure,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“You know how I said...” But she blushed and looked away. “No. Never mind.”

“What? I won’t laugh at you, I promise.”

It took several moments before she whispered, “I want to know what it’s like to be spanked.”

Norman had to swallow hard before he said, “You want me to...”

She nodded.

He sat on the couch in the living room and she laid herself gently over his lap. She was wearing one of those short skirts, and it had ridden up as she laid down, showing just a hint of bright orange panties.

“Do... do you want me to spank you hard?”

She looked back at him. “Not too hard. Just, kind of... firm.”

“Should I pull up your dress?”

Her hands flew back to her bottom and covered it. “No! No.” She looked terrified, but she didn’t move to get up. “Um... no. Just...”

“Okay,” Norman said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

She nodded. “Okay. I... I’m ready.”

He spanked her, not particularly hard, but she yelped and scrambled to her knees, rubbing her bottom.

“That stung.”

Norman laughed. “Yeah, that’s kind of the idea. But that was hardly a spanking.”

“Well, I think I changed my mind then.” She kissed him on the cheek again, lingering just a bit. “Thanks anyway.”

As spring took hold and the end of the school year came, Norman finally got up the courage to ask her. He was determined not to graduate without asking a girl to a dance. He chose a time when she wasn’t surrounded by scads of friends.

“Llewellyn, I was wondering, would you go to the prom with me?”

When Llewellyn gave him that dismissive look she had, Norman blushed and wished he could take it back. He had thought that, after a week of working together, after the cute little kisses and the one mild spank, that they had developed a friendship. But she looked at him in the same way she had when he’d first introduced himself, and he was embarrassed.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, loud enough for the whole hallway to hear her.

Norman blushed and hunched his shoulders and hurried away. They didn’t speak for the rest of the school year.

After graduation, Norman worked as a waiter at a small diner over the summer. It was the end of his shift one afternoon, and he was getting ready to leave, when Mrs. Murphy came in. Norman paused, stunned by her copper hair and emerald eyes and long legs. Mrs. Murphy recognized him immediately and smiled.

“Norman, how are you?”

Norman jerked himself from his surprise and smiled in return. “Fine, Mrs. Murphy. And you?”

She laughed. “Please don’t call me that. It makes me feel old. My name is Madeline.”

“Forgive me, Madeline, but you’re not old. In fact, you don’t really seem old enough to have a daughter Llewellyn’s age.”

Mrs. Murphy laughed again. “Have lunch with me?”

Norman smiled. He didn’t really like to eat where he worked, but for lunch with Madeline Murphy, he’d make an exception. Throttling his shyness, his nervousness, Norman showed her to a booth and sat across from her, faking all the confidence he could muster.

“How’s the post highschool life?” Madelyn asked.

“Good. I start at Local U in the fall.”

Once their burgers had arrived, their conversation turned to Llewellyn.

“I had Llewellyn when I was fourteen years old. I made a mistake with a boy who was about your age now. But I chose not to give her up and though she drives me crazy sometimes, I love her dearly and am glad I made the choice I did.”

“So, her father...”

“He left town after I told him I was pregnant. I haven’t seen him since.” She sighed and looked away. “Why are there so few good men?”

Norman bit his tongue on his surprise. He hadn’t expected Madeline to share such personal details with him. “So,” he cast about for something neutral to say, “You’re twenty-eight?” He could have kicked himself. Asking a woman her age was the very definition of uncouth.

But she didn’t rebuke him. Instead she smiled and winked. “Nearly twenty-nine.”

Norman was feeling confident and forward. “That’s only about ten years older than me.” He swallowed hard before looking square in her bright green eyes and saying, “I could be a good man.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you and Llewellyn...”

Norman shook his head.

“But, you two went to prom together.”

“I asked her, but she said no.”

Mrs. Murphy’s lips tightened. “So she lied to me. You know, I love her, but my daughter is a brat.”

Norman laughed. “Yeah, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I like her. She’s not a bad kid, but she’s still a kid, a little girl. Have you considered spanking her?”

Mrs. Murphy laughed again. “I thought about it, but I just can’t.” Then her expression turned serious. She reached across the table and took his hand. “I’ve had my heart broken more than once, Norman.”

Norman blushed and looked away. He fiddled with the straw in his soda. “I’m a bit new to all this, Madeline. I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for. But if you’d like to help me find it...”

That summer was hotter than Norman had any right to expect. Madeline Murphy, or Mandy as she liked to be called, was a voracious lover. She taught him how to take his time, to hold back from the fevered rush that came naturally. She taught him how to use his lips and his hips and his legs. She taught him how to use his hands to massage her and caress her and spank her.

Norman had been reticent at first. It had seemed inappropriate to spank a woman, but she liked it, and he learned that he liked it too. The rest he took to like a pro, letting her teach him.

And he found that he was quickly falling in love with her. He loved her patience and her kindness. He loved her long legs and freckled arms and scent of lavender soap. He loved her enthusiasm for sex and her appreciation of classical literature.

It was mid-August and they were in Mandy’s bedroom, on her bed. The air-conditioner wasn’t up to the task of keeping the whole apartment cool, so the door was open just a bit. Mandy’s head rested on her folded arms on the bed, her back arched so that her rear was high in the air. Norman was on his knees behind her, one hand resting on her back, thrusting quick and firm, and with every other thrust he spanked her pale bottom. It was crimson when Llewellyn came in.

She looked at them, a look of surprise on her face.

Everyone froze.

Mandy recovered first. “Um... hi, baby. Could you, maybe, give us a few minutes?”

Llewellyn fled.

Norman pulled out and flopped on his back, his cheeks nearly as red as Mandy’s.

Mandy kissed his cheek gently. “You all right?”

Norman squeezed his eyes shut and laughed. “Sure, just mortified.”

“Good. We can continue then.” Mandy straddled him, her long pale legs shiny with sweat, her auburn bush damp with sex.

As summer cooled off, Norman began classes at Local U, but his relationship with Mandy hadn’t cooled off at all. Sometimes she’d come over to his dorm room, sometimes he’d meet her at her place. When he went to her place, it was usually when Llewellyn was at school or over at a friend’s.

One afternoon, after his Eastern Philosophy class, he knocked at Mandy’s door only to have Llewellyn answer.

“Oh,” he said.

“Hi,” she said, her tone neutral.

Mandy was quickly behind her daughter. “Norman, hi. Sorry, I should have called. Llewellyn’s plans got canceled. ”

“That’s fine. I’ll... I’ll just catch up with you later.”

“It’s fine, guys,” Llewellyn rolled her eyes. “Come in, Norman. Just, you know, no mackin’ at the table and keep it down once I get to bed.”

Mandy laughed. “You brat. Come on in, Norman.”

Dinner was pleasant. Llewellyn and Norman compared notes on classes. Llewellyn was appalled at the amount of writing Norman was required to do at Local U. After dinner, Llewellyn assured her mother she had no homework and they sat on the couch together to watch television.

Norman and Mandy snuggled.

Llewellyn scoffed. “You two are so... immature.”

“Maybe you should be off to bed, Llewellyn,” Mandy said. She nudged Norman. “Spank her and send her to bed,” she said.

“Mom!” Llewellyn objected, looking aghast at them.

Norman blushed.

“Well,” said Mandy, “If we keep at this, eventually Norman might be your step-daddy. Sending you to bed with a spanking would be part of his patriarchal duties.”

“Eww! You guys are gross!” She got up and left.

Mandy wiggled her eyebrows at Norman. “Well, that got rid of her.”

They tried to keep their mackin’ down—for Llewellyn’s sake.

Well after midnight, Norman found himself awake. He shuffled to the kitchen for a glass of water only to find Llewellyn already there. She was clad in a short, sheer night dress. Her panties were pale blue. She was as cute as ever.

“Excuse me,” he said.

Llewellyn shrugged. “You know this is weird right? You’re only what, two or three years older than me, and mom’s talking about you being my step-daddy. She’s what, ten years older than you?”

Norman nodded. “Yeah. I’m nineteen now and Mandy’s twenty-nine. You’re... fifteen?”

“Fourteen. I skipped a grade. Still, it’s weird.

I know it’s... odd. But...” he hesitated, but Llewellyn was looking at him openly, non-judgmental. “I’ve never been good at talking to women. I’ve always been embarrassed or...” he looked right at her, “rejected. But your mom and I really get along.”

“Would you really spank me, like mom said?”

“I think we’ve been through this before.”

“Yeah, but you stopped.”

“You told me to.”

“Did your parents ever stop when you told them to?”

“Llewellyn, I’m not your father.”

“Do you spank mom?”

Norman was caught off guard and answered without thinking. “Yes.”

“And you’re not her father.”

“But that’s not at all the same. With your mom and me, it’s about sex, not discipline.”

“So you’d spank me for sex?” Llewellyn grinned impishly and stepped close to Norman, wrapping her slender arms around his waist.

“What? No.” Norman tried to push away, but Llewellyn held on tight.

Llewellyn ground her hips against his and Norman felt himself stiffen.

“Oh? That’s not what I’m feeling.”

Norman took a deep breath. She smelled like lavender soap, just like her mother. “Llewellyn, I tried this all ready. Last spring I’d have accepted in an instant. But I’m with your mom now and... and I promised not to break her heart.”

Llewellyn released him and took a step away. She clasped her hands behind her back and looked away, blinking quickly.

“It’s just... I want a spanking. I need it.”

Norman considered. Mandy had practically given him permission to spank Llewellyn. If it were strictly discipline, that might be all right.

“Tell me about prom,” Norman said.

Llewellyn looked at him, blinking away tears. “Prom? Uh... me and some of the girls went to Jake Parson’s house.”

“Wasn’t he busted with an MIP last month?”

Llewellyn nodded. Then a look of realization lit upon her face.

“Oh. Right. Well, there was drinking at the party. I... I got a little tipsy, but that’s it.”

Norman nodded. “So you lied to your mother and drank alcohol underage. You could have been arrested. I’d say that’s enough for a spanking. If you want me to.”

Llewellyn nodded shyly.

“I won’t stop until you’re fully spanked. You understand?”

Llewellyn nodded again.

Norman grabbed her wrist and sat on the only kitchen chair of the three that was armless. He pulled Llewellyn to him and over his lap. She didn’t fight it. He tried not to think about the time he’d spanked Mandy in this very chair, a spanking that had led to sex on the kitchen floor, but it was difficult not to when in this position, Llewellyn looked and felt almost exactly like her mother.

Llewellyn’s flimsy night dress fell down to her armpits, and she shrugged it over her head so it puddled on the floor.

Llewellyn’s pale, blue panties were smooth and tight. Norman pulled them down as a matter of course and was met with a pale, round bottom that was oh so familiar.

And he spanked her.

Norman hugged her and kissed her forehead and walked to her to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her as she fell to her bed, rubbing her bright red backside in the illumination of her nightlight.

He turned then to the darkened doorway of Mandy’s bedroom, where his lover stood, arms crossed.

“Did you think that wouldn’t wake me?” she asked in a quiet voice

Norman shook his head. “I wanted you to see it.”


He could hear the catch in her tone, and it sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“Because if Llewellyn wants me to spank her like a daddy when she’s been bad, I can do that and it’s not about sex. I wanted you to know that.”

“You didn’t find that arousing?” Mandy asked.

Norman shrugged. “Physically maybe, but not emotionally. She’s a kid.”

“You know, I was Llewellyn’s age when I had her. I asked her if you two were having sex when she said you asked her to prom.”

“We never did.”

“But you wanted to.”

Norman nodded.

“Did you want to spank her too?”

He nodded again. “She asked me to one night, but we chickened out after one spank.”

Mandy turned away in the dark.

Norman sighed. “If you want me to leave, I—”

“Come here,” Mandy said.

Norman walked into the shadowed bedroom. Mandy put her arms around his waist and pulled him close. The erection that had stirred when Llewellyn had done the same pressed hard between them.

“You spank her like a daddy. You spank me like a lover. Understood?”

Norman put his face against her neck and took a deep breath.

She smelled of lavender soap.

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