A/N: Thanks for reading. This story contains the spanking of two teenaged girls. If you don't like it, please don't read.

"Missing Persons" is a charming series by M.E. Rabb hailed as The New Nancy Drew. It's about the Shattenburg sisters from Queens: 17-year-old, serious and straightforward Sam and 15-year-old boy-crazy Sophie, orphans on the run from their evil stepmother. With some help they've assumed new identities as the Scott sisters in the small Indiana town of Venice. Sam has become a 21-year-old assistant to Gus Jenkins, a former detective and private investigator. Together with their friends the three make an odd family and solve a surprising number of mysteries in the quirky little town. This reader thinks that Gus knows the girls' real identities, but is keeping it to himself to help the girls out. That relationship kind of fuelled this story, which takes place after the third book in the series.

Spoilers for book two and three!

I didn't hear the doorbell ring because I was asleep, like any self-respecting Jewish girl from Queens would be at 8:00 on a Sunday morning. I had sufficiently recovered from Turkeyluck and the leftovers, and I was now recovering from my first real date with Colin. We'd gone to the movies in Patine, which was about 25 miles south of Venice. They had one-screen cinema that showed art films. It was playing Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The movie was confusing, but I wasn't really paying attention. I don't think that Colin was either. We held hands in the darkened theater and shared a bucket of greasy popcorn.

On the way back into Venice, Colin insisted that we stop on the side of the deserted highway and look at the stars. I didn't understand what he was talking about until I got out of the truck and looked up at the sky. It was something unlike anything I'd ever seen in New York. The sky was lit up with what seemed like thousands of bright, twinkling stars. Out in the country, miles from any town and source of light pollution, the sky was literally blazing. The moon was half-full (I didn't know whether it was waxing or waning - that's Sam's thing), and we stood under it and kissed for what seemed like hours.

I was still dreaming of that kiss, dreaming of Colin's lips when Sam shook me awake.

"Whaa." I am never very articulate in the morning.

"Sophie, wake up. Gus is here."

I looked at the alarm clock by my bed. "It's eight in the morning."

"I know." She looked worried.

"What does he want?"

"I don't know. He says he wants to talk to both of us."

"Can't you tell him to come back later?"

"No, Sophie. He said it couldn't wait. In case you forgot, Gus signs my paychecks. I'm not going to tell him to come back later. Get up."

I groaned and rolled to the edge of the bed. I sat up and yawned, shoving my feet into my fuzzy shark slippers. Sam was wearing her pajamas too, buttoned-up plaid flannel pajamas that were frayed at the hems. I've tried and tried to get her to wear something cute to bed. You never know, I told her, when a handsome boy will knock on your door in the middle of the night bearing chocolates or flowers. Well, it wasn't a cute boy knocking on our door this morning, but my point was the same.

"Well, he's going to see me at less than my best." I yawned again. "I hope he's prepared."

"Come on." Sam grabbed my hand and we shuffled out to the kitchen, where Gus was standing looking out of the window over the sink and drinking out of a styrofoam coffee cup. I groaned, thinking that I could not handle Gus being boozed up this early in the morning.

"What's going on?"

Gus turned around, and I could tell right away that it wasn't alcohol he was drinking. He was clean shaven, his eyes were bright, and he looked almost normal. Well, as normal as any other overweight middle-aged private investigator. He was even neatly dressed. His shirt was tucked in, and it was suspiciously clean. His hair was even combed. I tried to smooth down my own hair, which was sticking out in every direction.

Gus looked at my pajamas critically. "You even wear black to bed?"

No one in Venice would give me a break about my nearly all-black wardrobe. My pajamas aren't all black. They're black with pink and white doggies on them. They're cute. I didn't think I'd be able to explain that to Gus, so I just rolled my eyes at him.

"What's the big emergency that you have to come over here so early on Sunday?" I asked.

"I thought I'd take you girls out to breakfast."

"Nothing is open on Sunday morning." I had the distinct impression that my voice was whinier than I meant it to be, because Sam elbowed me roughly.

Gus looked nervous. "Oh. Well, in that case, I'll make something. You girls have any, uh, eggs?" When Sam nodded, Gus just sighed.

"First I want to talk to you about something. Sam, Sophie, sit down."

I thought about just telling him to come back later and rolling back into bed. Sam must have been able to read my mind, because she pushed me to a chair at our small kitchen table. She sat down next to me and we waited for Gus to talk. Sam looked nervous. I know that whenever Gus says he needs to talk to her, she's afraid that he's going to fire her. Sam is always too worried about money, even though we had thousands in a secret bank account. I know she's hoping to use that money to send us both to college some day, after I turn 18 and our stepmother Enid Gutmyre can't touch us. Gus paced nervously. Sam and I exchanged confused glances.

"I guess I should thank you two for trying to get Jack and I back in touch. I know it wasn't easy. Especially since I, you know, was so..."

"Drunk?" I blurted. Sam elbowed me again.

Gus glared at me. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I just don't deal well with emotions, you know? It's just the way I am. Everyone in my family is the same, except Jack."

Jack is Gus's son. He's 21 and a chorus boy in Vegas. He and Jack had a major fight right after Jack graduated from Venice High, and Jack disappeared. Gus spent most of his savings looking for him, but Sam and I were able to track him down in just a couple of months. That's something that bothers me about Gus. He seems pretty with it sometimes - like, he managed to figure out that we were going to Vegas to find Jack and he surprised us by showing up. Other times he's too busy drinking and feeling sorry for himself to notice what's clearly in front of his face. That's why he's never questioned our story, that we're two orphans from Cleveland trying to start over. I'm sure he's never met any Cleveland natives named Scott who drool over knishes and jam out to klezmer, but it never seemed to bother him.

Gus cleared his throat. "I know I should thank you, and I do. It was real nice to see Jack again, and I know everyone else was happy to see him too. Even though he is a, uh, performer."

Sam and I exchanged little smiles. We knew Gus was embarrassed that Jack didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and work in law enforcement.

"But I also had something else to say to you two." He stopped pacing and crossed his arms.

"You girls have a bad habit of putting yourselves in dangerous situations. I'm not just talking about going to Las Vegas by yourselves and not telling anyone. I'm talking about a lot of things, like a few weeks ago when we were working old Leo's case and you two came up with that little plan for Sophie to spend the night in the art museum. She almost got caught! You two seem hell bent on sticking your necks out whenever you get the chance, and I have just about had enough of it. It's no good for you, and it's no good for me. Do you know how much it costs every month for me to insure my business? I am really looking forward to the day I have to make a claim because one of you got hurt doing something stupid. And what about the authorities? Sophie's still a minor, and if something happens to her she'd probably get taken away by DFACS. I'd get charged with child endangerment. No, I'm afraid it's just not going to work out."

Sam looked crushed. I knew how she felt. She and I had devoted months to helping Gus get his business organized. When she started working for him his office had been filled from floor to ceiling with junk, and his filing cabinet had been full of everything except case files. She even found an old playboy in there, under an ancient turkey sandwich that had turned green and fuzzy.

I stood up. "So you're just going to fire Sam? That's so unfair!"

Gus gave me a confounded look. "Fire Sam? Why would I fire Sam? I've solved more cases with the help of you two than I have in years! Sam's a treasure. I'm not letting her get away. Or you either, Sophie."

Sam's face brightened, and I sat back down. "If you're not going to fire her, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I'll tell you, if you'd let me get a word in here." He glared at me. "You two have a bad habit of ignoring my instructions and doing whatever enters your heads. If you're going to stay here and work for me, we've got to get a few things straight. You've got to have regulations. You've got to know that you can't do these kinds of things and get away with them."

He paused. I'm not sure if it was for dramatic effect or because he was trying to think of what to say next.

"I don't approve of most of the things you girls have done, but I especially don't approve of you two running off to Las Vegas without telling anyone why. And I don't appreciate you lying to me."

I felt kind of bad about that. Gus had obviously been worried about us. When he found our itinerary on the office computer, he'd booked a ticket right away to come out to Vegas and find us.

"We can take care of ourselves," Sam offered lamely.

"I'm sure you can, usually. What would you have done if one of you had gotten sick, and I don't mean sick like Sophie got sick, and I can't say I approve of that either."

I groaned. "Ugh. Don't remind me." My only souvenir of Vegas had been a killer hangover. Why do they call it Long Island Iced Tea if there isn't actually tea in it?

"What if Sophie had been hurt? What if you two had been mugged or attacked? What would you have done? I can't have you two running wild without thinking of the consequences. Sam, I know you're 21 but raising a kid is a lot of responsibility when you're just a kid yourself."

If he only knew. I looked at Sam, who looked like she wanted to cry. I knew that she'd been terrified that night in Vegas when I got so drunk I couldn't stand up and Sam had no idea where I was. She'd met me at the hotel, crying and shaking and begging me not to do something like that again. I'd felt pretty bad too.

"He's right, Sophie." Sam said in a wavering voice. "That trip was pretty scary."

"I'm glad you agree with me." Gus pulled one of the kitchen chairs to the middle of the floor and sat in it. He started rolling up his sleeves. "I have become, well, I guess you could say that I'm fond of you girls."

We all blushed, embarrassed. It was weird to be lectured by Gus Jenkins, whose life was usually such a mess. He continued.

"If you're going to keep working for me, I've decided that there's only one thing I can do to make sure you don't do anything stupid again."

"What's that?" I had a bad feeling about this.

"I'm going to give both of you good hard spankings."

"What?" I jumped out of my chair. Sam looked just as shocked, but she didn't say anything. "Spankings? You can't spank us! We're practically grown women! I mean, Sam really is a grown woman!" I remembered that Sam was supposed to be well above the age of legal adulthood.

"Which is all the more reason you two shouldn't be acting like this! You've got responsibilities. Sam, you've got to look after Sophie. Sophie, you've got to live long enough to finish school so you can both make something of yourselves. I've worked in law enforcement long enough to see the kind of trouble you two could get into. Sore butts might help you two remember to take these things seriously."

"No." I said. "No way. Sam, tell him to get out of here. Sam?" I looked at my sister, whose face had gone all white. "Sam?"

"He's right, Sophie."

I couldn't believe my ears. "WHAT!?"

"I was so scared for you," Sam blurted. Her eyes were tearing up. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't call the police, because... Well, because I didn't want you to get in trouble. All I could think was how disappointed mom and dad would have been with me for letting you go into that club by yourself."

"I was fine!"

"You weren't fine," Gus interrupted. "Lucky for you, Jack realized you were underaged and got you out of there without incident. If I had seen you in there in that ridiculous getup, I would have turned you over my knee and paddled you on the spot."

I shot him what I hoped was a look of instant death. "Forget it. You're not spanking me."

"We'll see about that. Sam, I think we should start with you. You should have known better. You've got to be an example to your sister. Come over here."

"Wait," Sam said quietly, wiping her eyes. "What if we say no? What if we don't let you s... spank us?" Her voice broke.

Gus sighed and looked troubled. After a few long moments, he shook his head. "I can't let that happen, because I care about you girls too much. If you won't cooperate, I'm going to have to let you go, Sam. I'd hate to do it, but I can't be your boss if I can't put you girls on the straight and narrow."

Sam nodded. This was what our criminal underworld contacts would call a protection racket.

Sam, apparently, felt so guilty about that she'd forgotten that she had a mind of her own. She stood up and walked slowly to where Gus was sitting. She was silently crying, I guess because of how guilty she felt about the whole thing. Gus made her stand by his right side and told her to lower her pajama bottoms. She looked at him, startled.

"You perv!" I yelled. "You can't make her take her pants off!"

"Give me a break!" Gus unexpectedly yelled back. "I was on the Indy force for twelve years; you think I haven't seen any bare behinds?" He said the word 'behinds' like 'bee-hinds', which I would have found hilarious except for the circumstances. He told Sam to lower her pajama bottoms again. She pushed them down, slowly. I've seen my sister in her panties a hundred times, but I've never seen her in her panties waiting to be spanked. She looked scared.

Gus took her arm and made her lay across his lap. He put his arm around her waist and looked at me. "Pay attention, Sophie. Sam is going to watch you get yours, too. I want you two to remember this spanking for a long time."

I was sure we both would.

Gus brought his hand up and slapped Sam's right butt cheek, hard. She yelped and squirmed. He slapped the other side. She yelped again. I watched in horror as Gus beat my sister, slapping one side of her butt, then the other. After six slaps her yelps had turned into bona fide wailing, and tears were spilling down her cheeks and dripping on the linoleum. Gus stopped.

"What's wrong with you, Sam? We've hardly even gotten started, and you're screaming bloody murder. You act like you've never been spanked before!"

"She hasn't!" I answered for her. "Neither of us has!"

Sam looked back at him, her face red and tear-streaked. Gus looked absolutely disgusted. I could just tell what he was thinking: Those big-city girls with our big-city liberal upbringing. Our mom and dad had never believed in spanking. We were punished when we were in trouble, of course, but being in trouble in our house meant groundings or not being allowed to ride the train to Lincoln Center to hang out with our friends, or not being allowed to watch CSI. Dad never would have dreamed of hitting us.

"Well then," Gus said dryly. "I guess this is going to be an initiation by fire for you two." He lifted his hand and started spanking again. Sam squirmed and cried, her butt getting more and more pink with every slap. After about a dozen hard slaps, I couldn't take it any more. I had to say something.

"HEY! That's enough! You've made your point"

Gus looked up at me sternly. "You obviously don't know what happens during a spanking, Sophie. This spanking won't be over until I decide that Sam has learned her lesson. And unless you want double what she's getting, you'd better sit your butt right down and shut your mouth."

I did. What can I say; this whole situation was really intimidating. I watched Gus start spanking again. He spanked faster this time, and I could tell that it hurt. Every time his hand came down on Sam's butt, she jerked a little. Her mouth was wide open, and her wailing sobs started to turn into cries of desperation. I'd never heard my sister make those noises before, even when she bawled her eyes out the night our dad married Enid six years ago.

Gus had a look of concentration on his face, and he spanked harder and faster. I don't know how long the spanking had been going on, but Sam's butt started showing red through her white cotton briefs, from the very top of each cheek to right below where the panty line. Sam kicked and wiggled, and bawled like the calf I'd seen on my friend Mackenzie's farm. The longer Gus spanked her, the more nervous I got. I was imagining myself in Sam's place over Gus's lap, my panties staring him right in the face.

Then I had a horrible realization. Last night I'd worn my tight striped slacks, the ones that show any line or bump underneath, so I had worn black thong panties. When I got home it had been so late and I was so tired that I just stripped out of my clothes and put my pajamas on over my underwear. I wasn't wearing nice cotton briefs like Sam was. I was still wearing my thong! My naked bottom would be staring Gus right in the face! He'd be slapping my bare butt, unless I figured something out fast! I clenched my butt cheeks and watched in horror as Sam's butt got slapped over and over.

Suddenly, Gus stopped spanking. Sam's wails had turned to low sobs. Gus rubbed her back in slow circles as she sobbed. Her butt looked like it really hurt. I could see red fingerprints on the parts of her bottom that peeked out from under her panties. I thought it was over, but I was wrong. One Sam's sobs had calmed down, Gus shifted his legs and raised her butt up into a higher position.

"Sam, I know you're used to being the only one responsible for Sophie, but I will not put up with you putting both of yourselves in dangerous situations or keeping secrets from me. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded and blubbered something unintelligible.

"If I have to talk to you about this again, you're going to get spanked again but worse. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yess..."

"Okay, we're almost done. This last part is going to hurt. Are you ready?" He didn't give Sam a chance to say yes before he raised his hand and brought it down, hard, on the part of her butt just below her panties, where her thighs met her buns. The crack of his hand was as loud as a gun shot. Sam threw her head back and wailed pathetically. It would have been almost comical if it wasn't so horrifying. Gus spanked the same spot three more times, just as hard, then spanked the other side four times in a row. Then it was over.

He helped Sam get to her feet, then stood up and gave her a hug. It was like neither of them realized that her pajama bottoms were still around her ankles. Her butt was glowing through her panties, and she was still sobbing tragically. After a few seconds she bent down to pull up her bottoms and turned to me.

"Oh Sophie, I'm so-sorry!" I wasn't sure if she was apologizing for letting me go to Vegas or for the spanking I was about to get.

"Okay, Sam, you stay right there so you can watch Sophie get hers. Sophie, come over here."

I remembered my underwear situation and blanched. "Uh... how about I take a rain check?"

"I don't think so." Gus sat down in the chair, rubbing his hands together. "Come on, hurry up."

"You can't do this. I'm pretty sure that this is illegal. We could sue you!"

"You go right ahead. There's not a judge in this county who'd rule against me. They'd probably ask me what took me so long."

"I think we should talk about this. I mean, maybe we could work something else out. Like, I could do your laundry for a week. Or maybe you could ground me?"

"Sophie Scott, if you don't get over here in ten seconds, I'm going to... Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but it will make Sam's spanking look like a cake walk."

"Okay! Fine! I can't believe this is happening," I grumbled as I stood up and walked over to where Gus was sitting.

"Believe it. Get those bottoms down."

I tried to think of something to say to stall, but Gus was impatient and having none of it. He grabbed my arm and hauled me over his lap like I was a sack of potatoes. A squirming, kicking, yelling sack of potatoes with teeth. I felt his hand at the waistband of my pajamas, and I kicked harder. I held my breath as I felt him pull my bottoms down over my butt. I was mortified.

"Gee, no wonder you don't want a spanking. Sorry, Sophie, it looks like you wore the wrong underwear today."

I decided to try begging. "Come on, Gus! Can't you at least spank me over my pants? Please?"

"I don't think so. That wouldn't be fair to Sam, would it? Brace yourself now, this is going to sting."

I felt him raise his arm, felt him bring it down and then searing pain exploded on my right butt cheek. He slapped one side, then the other, over and over, and he spanked hard! Watching Sam did not prepare me at all for what I experienced over Gus's lap. I was convinced that this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I yelled and kicked wildly, trying to shake off the sting of his surprisingly hard hand. The sound of the slaps on my bare cheeks sounded much louder than they had on Sam's panties.

The spanking seemed to go on forever. When I looked up I could see Sam watching with a stricken expression on her face. The fire kept building in my butt, Gus kept spanking, and I kept kicking. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a couple of minutes, my sense of desperation and the building pain got the better of me and I started crying. I tried to cry quietly, but Gus seemed determined to make me bawl. He spanked harder and faster, and I eventually sobbed loudly.

"Pleeeeease! Pleeeeease, pleeeease stop! Guuuuuus! It huuuuuurts!"

Gus stopped spanking, and wrapped his arm around my waist.

"You sure do make a racket, don't you? Pay attention, Sophie. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Sam. You keep yourself out of trouble and we won't have to have this talk again. But if you don't, this will be much worse for you. Do you understand?"

I wailed, kicked, and sobbed out a "yes". He gave me the same "this will hurt" line that he'd given Sam. I braced myself. I looked over my shoulder and watched as Gus raised his hand high over his head, and brought it down unbelievably hard on my right cheek, right were it met my thigh. I'd thought that the pain couldn't get any worse, but I was so wrong. I shrieked and struggled, but Gus delivered all eight of the blistering smacks that he'd given to Sam, four on each side.

I didn't realize it was over until Gus helped me to my feet and gathered me up into a hug. I buried my head in his chest and sobbed. My butt felt huge, swollen and tender, and it was radiating heat. I rubbed it as I cried. I didn't care that my bottom was naked for Sam and Gus to see. It hurt too much for me to care.

Once the front of Gus's shirt was soaked, he let me go and I gingerly pulled my pajama bottoms up over my sore, hot butt. Then Sam and I hugged, and cried and felt sorry for ourselves and each other. In the meantime, Gus slid the chair back under the table and poked through our ancient refrigerator. After a few minutes, he looked at us sternly.

"You girls go get dressed. I'm going to go borrow some ingredients from Wilda, then I'll be back to make you the best scrambled eggs you've ever eaten." He put his coat on and walked to the door.

"Shake a leg. Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes. You'd better be on time."

He disappeared out the back door and Sam and I looked at each other miserably.

"We'd better do what he says," She sniffed. I nodded.

We both headed to the bathroom. Once there, we couldn't resist comparing our butts in the mirror. Mine definitely looked the worse for wear. Not having anything covering my cheeks took its toll. Both of our butts were dark pink, and there were little welts in the middle of each of my cheeks from his fingertips. Without saying a word, Sam and I brushed our teeth and washed our faces. Sam helped me braid my hair, and then we got dressed in our own bedrooms. I was sure to put on my most modest panties, even though the elastic scraped the tenderest spots.

I came out of my room to see Sam sitting at the kitchen table talking to Gus, who was busy at the stove. I wondered how Sam could even sit, but then I saw that there was a pillow on her chair and one on another chair for me. She gave me a rueful little smile, and I sat carefully next to him.

Gus was wrong. They weren't the best scrambled eggs I'd ever eaten, but they were pretty good. Gus had also made coffee in our elderly stovetop pot, and toast under the broiler. He'd borrowed a jar of rose petal jelly from Wilda, and even though my butt was throbbing and I was still supremely embarrassed by the whole thing, breakfast was actually pleasant. Gus was being nicer than he usually was, and he was definitely more cheerful. I wasn't particularly hungry, and Gus noticed me picking at my eggs.

"Hey. Come on, Sophie. I know it's no bagels and lox, but give it a chance. It's taken me years to perfect this recipe."

I was startled by Gus' comment, and I looked at Sam. Her eyes were wide open, staring at Gus. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. What was that supposed to mean? Did he know?

Gus kept eating, and the conversation turned to other topics. We cleaned up, and Gus reminded Sam that he'd see her on Monday morning, and then he left. Sam and I were left to stare at each other in silence.

"What do you think he meant with that bagel comment?" I asked, finally. "Do you think he knows who we really are? If he knows, why doesn't he just say so?"

"He would, wouldn't he? I mean, Gus isn't exactly known for his subtlety." Sam looked thoughtful. "I don't think he'd tell on us even if he did know."

She started putting dishes away in the cupboards and I gathered up the pillows. Sam sighed.

"Well, this was interesting morning. I guess we'd better mind our P's and Q's from now on."

I groaned and rubbed my still-sore bottom through my jeans with my free hand. "Believe me, I am minding. I am minding. I know one thing for sure."

"What's that?"

"I'm not going to wear a thong to bed any more."

Sam rolled her eyes at me, but giggled despite herself. I threw a pillow at her.