Friday, November 29, 2013

Dual Stories 2; Single Mother, Teen Son

© Guyspencer 2013

                                      Dual Stories 2; Single Mother, Teen Son

As Susan Evans pulled into the mall parking lot, she consoled herself with the comforting theory that many other distraught parents must have preceded her into much this same situation.  She had received a call from mall security.  They had her son Owen in custody.  He had been caught red-handed with shoplifted merchandise.

The security superintendent had made it clear that he intended to involve the police, but she considered it a hopeful sign that he had called her first.

In the security office, they allowed her into a small room where she found Owen sitting glumly.  He cringed at the sight of her.  “Just wait until I get you home,” she hissed.  Simultaneously, she wondered how many other parents had said those same words in this room.  Also, she remembered a time not so many years ago when the teenage version of herself had been in much the same spot.  She thought, “He needn’t hear about that.”  

The superintendent came into the room.  Susan introduced herself and apologized to the man before asking if he had called the police yet. 

“No,” he replied officiously, “but company policy specifies that we press charges against shoplifters.”

“I understand completely,” Susan said, “but can we talk privately?”  Perhaps only because Susan was good-looking and the Superintendent was male, she got her way.

In his office, Susan was shown the stolen merchandise, a gaudy shirt.  Thanks to a good education, and unlike many other single mothers, Susan had a good job.  So money wasn’t Owen’s problem.  Had Owen really wanted a new shirt, he could have simply asked for the money.  Furthermore, the shirt wasn’t even in Owen’s size!  It was a medium.  Owen was a large and solid boy.  He wore a large shirt, sometimes extra large.  Still, Susan didn’t doubt Owen’s guilt.  She could see it in his eyes.  Besides, he hadn’t even bothered to protest his innocence!

By now, Susan had a clear grasp of her priorities.  First, she needed to extract Owen from this mall security office without involving the police.  Then she needed to figure out why Owen stole that shirt.  After that, she would see to his punishment!

Trying not to show her nerves, she gave the security superintendent her best smile, and then made her best pitch; “I realize that you have a company policy to follow, but Owen has never done anything like this before.  To nip this strange new behavior in the bud, he needs a lesson he will never forget.”

She waited for the man to nod in agreement before she moved in to make her point, “But the severity of that lesson is your choice.  He is seventeen.  If you let the police handle this, he might end up with a juvenile offense record, but considering this is a first offense they will do little else to him.  As you doubtless know, at age eighteen the county automatically expunges all minor juvenile offenses.”

She waited for him to nod reluctant agreement, before forging on, “However, as his parent I have powers that the police can only dream about.  So which do you think would do him the most good?  A temporary police record or a blistered ass?” 

Intrigued, the man asked, “How do I know you would actually follow through with that?”

“Loan me your belt for a few moments, let me in that room with my son, and listen at the door.  You’ll have no doubt!”

“Whoa!” the man exclaimed, making the referee’s classic “time out” sign with his hands.  “That would REALLY be against company policy!”

Then he thought for a moment, “How could you do that?  You’re a single mother right?  That boy must outweigh you by fifty pounds.”

Determination burned in Susan’s eyes.  “That hasn’t been a problem yet, and I’ve got adult male backup if it ever is.  Believe me, if you let me take him home, Owen will get the bottom tanning he deserves!”
Ultimately, after calling Owen into his office and convincingly threatening him with jail time, the supervisor allowed the scared boy to leave with his mother.  In exchange, he elicited an official signed paper acknowledging that Owen was banned from the mall for the next twelve months, plus a very unofficial but sincere promise that Susan would see that Owen received that promised  corporal punishment.

Owen and his mother barely spoke on the way home.    

Owen had never met his father, and likely never would.  In a stunning few days of irresponsibility whilst celebrating her new college degree, Susan had hooked up with a hunky expatriate oil worker who happened to be home vacationing in the states.  Susan had thought she was protected from pregnancy, and had assured the man so.  So he was back somewhere in the Saudi oil fields before Susan even suspected her pregnancy.  Rightly or wrongly, Susan chose to avoid complications by never contacting him again.  To this day, he has no idea that he has a son.  

From the day she had “failed” that pregnancy test, she had devoted her life to her son and her career.  Resultantly, there had simply never been room in her life for another man.  Her celibacy wasn’t a lifetime commitment however.  In her usual practical manner, Susan realized that there will be a big empty spot in her life when Owen leaves for college next year.  Susan planned to combat that by resuming dating as soon as Owen left home.  Perhaps she could find a nice man to spend her golden years with.

Owen was a senior in high school, and finally a member of the varsity football team.  The constant practice had been good for him, toughening and shaping his large body.  His football coach, Coach Nelson, had told Susan that Owen was no natural athlete, but that he worked hard, was a good learner, and an asset to the team.      

Owen wasn’t naturally a sociable person, but Susan had noticed that he seemed to have made some new friends lately and had been spending a lot of time with them.


At home, she patiently tried to talk to Owen, but he clammed up as only a teenager can.  Finally, she realized that she needed to take action or she would never learn why he had taken up shoplifting.

“OK Owen,” she said firmly, “We need to change the dynamic here.  Strip down to your underwear.”

He recoiled, “Don’t do this mom; please!  I’m too old for that kid stuff.”

She held her ground, but hid her fright.  For the first time it really looked like Owen might refuse.  If he did, would she have any control left at all?

Before he had a chance to say “no”, she reluctantly pulled out her “heavy artillery”.

“You know that Coach Nelson has offered to give me any help I need with you.  Should I call him right now?  I’ll bet he could be here in ten minutes.  Will you dare say ‘no’ to him?  And by the way, do you want him to know that you’re a thief?”

Susan was taking a chance!  That offer from the Coach had been real enough, but what Owen didn’t know was that his mother was highly unlikely to take him up on it.  Oh Susan trusted him just fine to coach her son on the football field, but his unsolicited offer of disciplinary help had sounded just a bit too eager to her.  So she avoided meeting him in any private circumstance.

Fortunately for Susan, her bluff worked! least it worked this time.  Grumbling, Owen kicked off his shoes, shucked off his team t-shirt and reluctantly dropped his pants. 

She walked up to her son, slipped his briefs down in back, and gave him six sharp slaps to each buttock.  “Go stand in the corner and think.  Then tell me when you’re ready to sit down and have a real conversation about what went on today.

And then, Susan picked up a book and reclined in her favorite chair.

Standing in a corner for a long time is much harder than you might think, unless you have actually tried it.  Owen could have lasted much longer if his mother had given him a stool, which is exactly why she didn’t!  After a half-hour, his feet hurt and he was starting to sway a bit.  His mind worked against his will;  What if he never talked?  Would his mother let him go to bed tonight?  What was he supposed to do if he had to pee?  It helped the swaying if he stuck his forehead right into the corner, but then his knees started to hurt!  He tried unlocking them, and that helped for a while.  Unfortunately, Owen understood all too well that shortly after he talked, his mother would paddle his ass.  But he couldn’t stay here forever ... could he?

Finally Susan heard a mournful voice from the corner, “OK Mom, I’ll talk now.  Can I come out?”

“Yes son,” she said in her most reasonable voice, “Come here, sit next to me, and let’s have a nice talk.”

And so the story finally came out.  The whole thing had been part dare, and part initiation into his new clique of friends.  It had been a  silly and dangerous stunt to show his new friends how “cool” he could be.

Susan’s relief was palpable.  Her son hadn’t become a pathological thief, but simply a misguided idiot!  Well she had a way to make him smarter!  

But first they had a long talk about exactly what “friendship” means.  She finally made him understand that friendship isn’t something you buy, especially not when the currency is stupid and criminal stunts!  In the end, Owen agreed that what he had done was wrong and also promised to avoid that particular group of boys in the future.


At that point, Owen became quite discouraged with himself.  Susan could see that he was terribly embarrassed at what he had done, and was starting to mentally “beat himself up.” 

Susan stopped him!  “No Owen, you’re just not quite grown up yet.  You still have a few things to learn.”

“Well,” he said, “How will I ever live with myself?  I’m a shoplifter now!”

Susan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  She was reluctant to share this bit of personal history with him, but like the good mother she was, she made the sacrifice:  “Owen, you know that I had to grow up once too, right?  I haven’t always been an adult.”

He nodded, “Of course Mom.”

“And I’ve told you that I received my own share of spankings in the process...right?” 

Suddenly interested, he looked up and nodded.

She took a deep breath and plunged on, “Well now honey, I’m going to tell you about the time I got caught shoplifting.”

Owen’s eyes got big.

“Me and a friend decided that it would be really neat to have a six pack of beer.  Neither of our parents drank, and obviously we weren’t allowed to buy any, so we decided to steal some.  I was supposed to distract the beverage store owner by buying some soda while my friend Cindy snuck in the store’s back door and grabbed what we wanted.  I guess I must have acted nervous, because he saw right through me.  Next thing you know, he had us both!   Fortunately he called our parents rather than the police.”

Susan lapsed into silence, but Owen prodded her to continue, “What did your parents DO?”

“You know that red couch in your grandparents living room?”


“I can trust you to never repeat this Owen?  This is really personal, but I think you need to hear it.”

Mutely, Owen crossed his heart.

“Nobody!”  Susan repeated, “not even your best friend.”

“Honest Mom” Owen said, as he mimed putting his hand on a bible and taking a pledge. 

“Well imagine the teenaged version of your mother over the arm of that couch getting her bare bottom spanked by your grandfather’s belt!”

Owen’s mouth opened in astonishment.

“It was my worst spanking ever,” Susan explained.  “My bottom hurt!  For a week after that, I was reminded of that lesson every time I sat down.  It took another week for the belt marks to fade.  But I learned my lesson Owen.  Never again did I even think of shoplifting!”

Susan paused again, deliberately giving the wheels in Owen’s head time to turn.

Finally she asked, “Do you think that my parents did the right thing by spanking me so hard?”

No dummy, Owen knew where this question was leading.  Still he answered honestly, “Yes mom.”


And so their talk turned to Owen’s punishment.

“Fortunately for you Owen, I don’t use a belt.  But I can do a pretty good job with that paddle.  You agree that the same treatment that was fair for me is also fair for you?”

Reluctantly, knowing that he was sealing his own fate, Owen sobbed, “Yes mom.”   

“One more thing Owen; can you take your punishment like a man?” Susan asked.  “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re bigger and stronger than me.  That means that you must be man enough to cooperate with your punishment, even when it hurts like hell!”

“But what will they say in the locker room?” Owen asked, “Somebody is sure to see my bottom and know that I’ve been spanked.”

“Well.” Susan said thoughtfully, “You could always try the truth.  Tell them you did something stupid, that you owned up to it, and that you paid with your ass.  You wouldn’t need to say more than that.  You, me, and the folks in that security office are the only ones who know about this...right?”

Dubiously, Owen agreed.

“Well?  Are you ready to pay the price young man?” Susan asked.

“Yes ma-am,” he said, “I guess we need to get it over with.”

“Do you remember where the paddle is stored?”

“Yes ma-am.”

“Then go get it, and carry it back into that corner.  I want you to spend a few minutes thinking about your punishment and the lesson you are about to learn.”

Still clad only in his briefs, he obediently fetched the paddle from the hall closet and walked back to his corner. 

Susan walked up behind him, “Hold that paddle with both hands and don’t let go.”

He was puzzled, but obeyed.  Then he felt hands on the waistband of his briefs.  Still obediently grasping the paddle, he groaned helplessly as he felt his briefs go south.  She pulled them all the way to the floor and instructed him to step out.  She left them in a small white pile in the corner. 

As Owen stood naked in the corner with his white buttocks facing her, Susan went back to her book to let the boy stew for another half hour.  Although she always spanked Owen bare, this was the first time she had ever made him get naked for the event.  However, it was also the first time he had tried shoplifting!

Finally she called him in a firm voice, “OK Owen, let’s have a little talk and then get your spanking over with.”
Without turning around, Owen whined, “Errr Mom, it’s not really a good time right now.”

Immediately guessing the boy’s problem, Susan replied in a kinder voice, “I think I understand your problem son.  Don’t worry, it’s a natural thing, especially at your age.  But yes, we can wait a few minutes.”

Ten minutes later she asked him, “Better now Owen?”

“Errr, not really,” he groaned.

“It’s OK Owen, really it is.  It’s just the two of us, and I’ll never tell.  Go ahead and turn around.”

With obvious reluctance, Owen obeyed.  She smiled thinly at the sight of him holding the paddle in front of him so that it would serve as an impromptu fig leaf.”

“Go into the study and bring us that old wooden chair.”

“Um Mom?”


“Could we just go into the study and use the chair there?”

She answered patiently, “The study feels more private than the living room?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I guess that’s it.”

“OK,” she said.  “If I agree to this you will do your very best to cooperate with your spanking?”

“Yes Ma-am.”

“Then take your paddle into the study, move that chair to the center of the room, and I’ll be right in.”     


She had never intended for that old chair to be her official spanking chair, it just happened to be ideally suited to the task.  The chair is solid & heavy.  Technically speaking, it’s not old enough to be an antique, so we will have to call it “classic”.  It’s a plain wooden armless chair with solid square legs.  It has an institutional look, and probably served in some government office for untold decades.  Susan liked to imagine it sitting outside a Principal’s office where it would be used by upset parents or nervous students waiting their turn for the great man’s attention.

She had found the chair in a second hand store.  Something about it spoke to her, perhaps it was the patina on the shellac, buffed by thousands of bottoms.  Susan originally bought it to add character to her study, but it had only found one use.  Even before he was a teen, Owen was a big boy.  Today, the combination of her and Owen weighed well over 300 pounds.  She didn’t want to trust one of her dainty dining room chairs for the job, but that old office chair was perfect!

And then there was the paddle.  When Owen finally grew up enough to outweigh her, Susan had felt a need for an “equalizer”.  She happened to share this problem with a retired neighbor who spent hours in his garage wood shop.  At his suggestion, she paid a considerable sum for a modest slab of dense walnut.  The man spent a whole two weeks fashioning that board into a beautiful paddle.   It ended up slightly larger than a hairbrush with a handle that fit Susan’s hand perfectly.  The old man wouldn’t take a dime for his labor.

Like her solid old chair, Susan expected that hardwood paddle to stay in the family for generations.  But today, she needed both of them herself!


She waited about two minutes, and then reluctantly stood and followed Owen into the study.  There she found him standing awkwardly next to the empty chair.  She sat, pointed him to the space in front of her, and pinioned him with her eyes.  She noticed that the paddle was still strategically positioned in front of his groin, but she deliberately ignored it for the moment.

“Owen, this isn’t only about your shoplifting, it’s about you having the wrong kind of friends.  Friendship isn’t something you should have to purchase, especially not purchased by doing something illegal.  You’ve already agreed to stay away from those people, but starting now you are on restriction to ensure you keep that promise. Understand?”

Still hiding his budding manhood behind the paddle, Owen said “Restriction?”

“Yes,” Susan said, “But not a punishment type of restriction.  When you’re home, all will be normal except no private phone conversations.   When you aren’t at home or at school, I need to know where you are and who you’re with.  Got it?”

Slightly relieved at the mildness of his restriction, Owen answered “Yes Ma-am”.

“I’ll be paying attention, and if I catch you in a lie we will be right back here.  It’ll be you, me, the paddle, this chair, and your bare bottom.  Agreed?”

“Yes Ma-am”.

She held out her hand for the paddle.  Reluctantly, very reluctantly, Owen relinquished it.  It had been a while since Susan had seen that particular part of her son.  It not only had grown impressively since then, it was now in an impressive state!  The boy blushed and started to stammer an apology. 

She stopped him, “I told you this is normal, so don’t worry about it.  Besides, it’ll go away as soon as your mind becomes distracted by the sting I’m about to put in your bottom.” 

She smoothed out her skirt, and motioned for Owen to lay across her lap.  Between them, they managed it without putting undue pressure on Owen’s inflated member.  She positioned him carefully, his toes just barely touching the ground, his hands grabbing the chair legs for support.  From former experience, she knew to position him slightly overbalanced.  Since this gave him the feeling that he must support his body to avoid falling head first, it kept him from reaching back.

“OK son”, she warned, “You promised to ‘take this like a man’.  You’ve cooperated so far, but the hard part comes next.  Hold on to that chair with both hands, keep your toes on the ground and your legs together.  As soon as I start you’ll want me to stop, but it won’t happen.”

In a softer voice, she added one more detail, “Taking it like a man doesn’t mean taking it quietly.  It’s normal to cry, and it’s OK to make all the noise you wish.  However, I would prefer if you refrain from cussing. OK?”

His voice sounded strained, “Yes mom.”

She raised the paddle high and quickly gave him one scorching swat to the meaty center of each buttock.  He bucked and groaned “Owwwwwww.”

“Hang on tight,” she warned, and then began to pepper his buttocks with moderate paddle blows.  As Owen’s bottom reddened, Susan saw with pride that her son was trying mightily to stay in position.  Still, his involuntary reactions to the blows added a kinetic aspect to his bottom.  He choked, and then the first sobs escaped his lips.  Susan stopped for just a moment to say in a gentle voice, “It’s OK son, let it out.”   

Then she started again, adding another layer of color to his cheeks.  Soon Owen was openly bawling. 

The proper color achieved on his mounds, Susan paused again to remind him of the purpose of his spanking.  “Are you ever going to shoplift again?”

“No mom!  Honest I won’t!”

“Will you ever again let someone talk you into doing something illegal?”

“No mommy, I promise!”

She looked down at her son.  The bright red color of Owen’s muscular mounds contrasted cheerfully with the paleness of his thighs and sit spots.  “Time to even that out,” she thought to herself.

Thighs are tender and have less padding than buttocks, so she used the paddle judiciously to pepper color into that area.

As the sting grew in his thighs, Owen briefly started bawling again, but quickly changed to loud pleas for respite.  “Please mommy!  Not so hard!  Please stop for just a minute!  Owwwwwwwww!” 

Tears welled up in Susan’s eyes.  She wanted to stop, part of her wished she had never started, but she knew she had a job to do.  A light spanking might do more harm than good because he would see it as a joke.  She needed to teach her son a life’s lesson, so she gritted her teeth and continued.

As his mother continued her duty, Owen’s pleas gradually devolved into incoherent screeches.  His legs flapped like a swimmer as he absorbed the blows, but he managed to keep his vise-like grip on the chair legs. 

Susan shifted to a slower pattern of moderate-strength spanks, hitting randomly on buttock, sit-spot, and thigh and she again reminded him of why he was being spanked in a loud firm voice.

Finally she paused to closely inspect her work.  She took time to add a few blows to areas that weren’t quite red enough before finally stopping for one last pregnant pause.

She shifted him, uncomfortably putting his considerable weight entirely on her left leg.  That freed up her right leg to wrap over her son’s lower calves, temporarily trapping his legs.  “OK son, we’re almost done.  You’ve done well, you’ll only need to hang on for another minute or so, but this will be the worst.  OK?”

By now the fight had been mostly spanked from him.  Grimly, he nodded his understanding and gripped that heavy chair leg all the tighter.

She applied the brush hard and fast so that the job could be done quickly.  He screamed and jerked as his mother assaulted the twin peaks of his bottom and the two spots where buttock underside meets leg.  It took less than a minute for Susan to make four “reminder” marks that Owen would feel for the next few days.

Then it was over!

She allowed Owen to lay across her lap and to sob as she rubbed his back and massaged his neck.  Finally he looked around, and then turned his face to her in a mute request to get up. 

“Let me help you up Owen.  Be careful now, you might be a bit shaky.”

As soon as his weight left her lap, she stood and gathered him into a hug.

“Do you hate me Owen?”

He sobbed the answer she wanted to hear, “No mom.  I got what I deserved.  And I promise I learned my lesson.”

With new tears in her eyes, she hugged him even harder.

Then she noticed that Owen’s face was a mess.  She told him to wait, and then ran to the nearest bathroom to fetch a wet cloth and a towel.  While there, she opened a drawer to find a jar of aloe cream, which she slipped into her pocket.

She returned to find Owen doing a “spank dance”.  Holding the cloth and towel enticingly, she allowed him his dance & bottom rub.  As she waited, she couldn’t help but notice that Owen’s erection was history.  She had no way of knowing, but guessed that it hadn’t survived the first part of his spanking.  Finally Owen noticed his mother, and stood steady so that she could wash his face as if he were a child.

A few years ago, she would have sat back down in the spanking chair and pulled Owen into her lap, but now he was big enough to make that awkward.  Susan improvised by leading him out to the living room and sitting next to him on the couch.  Owen indulged in a last few sobs on his mother’s shoulder.  Then she invited Owen back over her lap so that she could apply the soothing cream.  Finally, she pretended not to watch as he retrieved his underpants and sheepishly restored his modesty.

She invited him back to the couch, where surprisingly they shared an unusually productive conversation.  Finally, with an unspoken but mutual desire to restore normalcy, they worked together preparing a simple supper. 

The incident was over. 

As it turned out, that wasn’t Owen’s last spanking, but it was the end of his shoplifting.    Susan would always remember that incident as one of her more successful adventures in parenting. 

© Guyspencer 2013

Dual Stories 1; Single Father, Teen Daughter

© Guyspencer 2013
Dual Stories 1; Single Father, Teen Daughter

While morosely sitting in her bedroom while waiting for her father to arrive home from work, Cara tried different arguments in her head, “It isn’t fair for me to be in the same trouble as the other two girls because I wasn’t really cheating.  All I did was let them peek at my paper.  Everything on my paper was actually my own work!”

Unfortunately, she knew that excuse would get her no further with her father than it had with the Principal; because “cheating is cheating.”  She mentally auditioned and rejected several other possibilities.  Sadly, she concluded that she may as well just “plead guilty” and take her punishment, whatever her father decided her punishment must be.

Cara is a good girl and a straight-A honor student.  For herself, she had no need to cheat.  She had only been trying to help two friends.  Close to her father, her only parent, Cara was rarely a discipline problem.  Spankings had been rare in her younger years, and she had been spanking-free for over a year now.  She actually had thought she was done with that sort of childish thing.  But today, the possibility of a spanking loomed large in her mind. 

The other two girls, Edna and Michelle, were her best friends.  The two had been at a special event last night and had totally forgotten to study for that biology test.  Stupidly, Cara had offered to help them.  Obviously, their attempt at cheating hadn’t gone well.  The three of them had ended up in front of Mr. Jenkins, the Principal.  The school had abolished corporal punishment just the year before, leaving Mr. Jenkins with no alternative but to suspend all three girls for two days.

The principal had called Cara’s father while she was in the room.  It had been mortifying at the time, but at least Cara wouldn’t have the job of breaking the news to him.  He had tried to dissuade the Principal from suspending her, explaining that she would be “punished plenty at home”.  The Principal had been apologetic, but had stood firm.  All three girls would get the same 2-day suspension.

As she waited for her father, her thoughts turned to how disappointed he must be with her.  She certainly expected him to be mad at her, but it was his disappointment that she feared the most.  At that thought, new tears ran down her cheeks. 

It’s only human for sad thoughts to begat even sadder thoughts, so Cara found herself remembering her mother and wondering how she would have reacted to the news, had she still been alive.

Cara remembered her mother as a loving but frail woman.  For some reason, it was her bald head and wig that always stuck in her mind.  Back then, mother had always been to look after Cara, while Cara’s father was continually caring for mother.  When Cara was only eight, her mother had lost her fight with cancer.  After that, Cara and her father had become as close as a father and a daughter could possibly be.  They talked of mother often.  Both thought it important that Cara keep her memories of her mother fresh.

But just because Cara was the apple of her father’s eye, didn’t mean that he was a pushover!  He was reluctant to spank, but Cara was no stranger to his lap.  Today Cara’s bottom was in serious trouble, and she knew it!

All too soon, father finally arrived home.  He walked into Cara’s bedroom to find his daughter’s face wet with tears.

She almost would have preferred that he yell at her and spank her to get it over with, but that wasn’t his style. He dried her tears, he told her he still loved her, and then led her out to the living room for a “talk”.

She tried to escape back into tears, but father wouldn’t allow it.  He forced her to engage in conversation.  So they talked about cheating vs. honesty, about how honesty is almost always best, and how cheating almost always leads to trouble.  Finally, they seemed to exhaust the subject.

There was a pregnant pause.

Then he asked the question that Cara had been dreading, “What do you think would be a fair punishment for what you did Cara?”

Cara didn’t want to answer.  She tried tears again, but it didn’t help.  Patiently father pressed the question until Cara finally looked at the carpet and mumbled the only answer that made any sense, “A s-sp-spanking I guess sir.”

Her father pulled her into a hug, “That was hard to say that, wasn’t it?”

Still inspecting the carpet, she nodded.

“In that case,” he said, “I’ll give you a bit of help with the next part.”

She looked at him with a mixture of fear and confusion.

“Suspension is your Principal’s ultimate sanction...right?  By that I mean it’s the worst punishment he can hand out.”

Cara thought about that a bit and then finally nodded in reluctant agreement.  She was afraid she knew where this discussion was going...

“In that case would it be unfair or inappropriate if I were to use my ultimate sanction?”

“No sir,” Cara mumbled.

“You had trouble saying ‘spanking’, but I think you know what the worst punishment in my parental toolkit is right?”

New tears sprung from her eyes, but she nodded.

“I won’t make you say it Cara, so I’ll say it myself.  I intend to use the hairbrush on your bare bottom, and use it hard!”

This elicited a new torrent of tears.  Thinking it better to get the emotions out of her system, father held her and let her tears flow until they finally ran down.

“It’s been a few years, but do you remember where to find the hairbrush? 

She nodded.  She remembered all too well!  .

On the way home, father had been thinking about his daughter’s blossoming body.  Simply pulling her pants down like in years past would no longer do.  He had a new idea to preserve a vital bit of her modesty...

“Go take your evening shower now, put on a nice loose nightgown, and then bring me the hairbrush.”

He continued, “It’ll be bare bottom, but I intend to spank you, not humiliate you.  So I’ll just lift up your nightgown in back so I can do what needs doing.  That’s why the loose-fitting gown.  OK?” 

After a pause, Cara nodded her understanding. 

Unfortunately, father had one more instruction, “Like I said, it’ll be a bare bottom spanking so no panties under that gown...right?”

Her face bright red, Cara mumbled, “Yes sir”.  

He looked at his watch, “Can you do all that in 15 minutes?”

“Can...can I have 20 sir?”

“It’s eight after six.  Let’s have you down here by six thirty, OK?”

“Yes sir,” Cara choked, and then fled the room.

In the bathroom, Cara stripped off her clothes.  As her panties came off, she reflected glumly that none would go back on until after her buns had been painfully toasted by her father’s hairbrush.  Remembering the clock, she jumped in for a quicky shower.  Soon she was out of the shower toweling off her young body. 

She wiped the steam off the mirror so she could see herself.  At 17, her body bulged with reproductive promise like a spring flower.  Normally she would be inspect her changing body with a mixture of pride and wonder, but today she just looked over her shoulder at her pristine white buttocks.  Of course, she realized that they wouldn’t remain that way much longer!  For the first time, she realized that her spreading hips translated into more bottom for her father to spank. She glumly (and correctly) concluded that her maturing bottom would require more spanking than the younger, more petite, version.

Worried about the time, Cara quickly straightened her damp hair with a comb, and fastened it behind her head into a pony tail.  She remembered from sad past experience that it was best to keep her hair away from her face whilst being spanked.  Quickly, Cara walked to her bedroom to find an appropriate nightgown.  She briefly considered donning a bra, but rejected the idea.  When she pulled the flimsy but loose gown over her head, it stuck to her body in a few places where she had left beads of shower water.

Her last task was to go into her father’s bedroom to fetch the hairbrush.  She found it in the upper right hand drawer of the bureau, right where it always lived.        

Her father met her at the entrance of the living room.  He checked his watch and spoke without irony, “Three minutes to go.  Good job Cara.”

He accepted the hairbrush, and then pulled her into a tight hug.  She could feel his heartbeat.

His voice was gruff with emotion; “Damn it Cara, I hate to do this to you, but I have no choice.  Please don’t hate me, but I must do a good job tonight.  Expect your bottom to feel the effects for a few days.  And please-please learn from this.  I never want to do it again.”

Cara sobbed a bit and clung to her father as she promised that she would learn her lesson and that she wouldn’t hate her father for spanking her.

Father had closed the curtains for privacy, so it was dim in the living room .  But the room was plenty bright enough for Cara to see the armless dining room chair that he had placed in the middle of the room.  Realizing its purpose, she gulped. 

The next thing she knew she was laying across his lap and holding tightly to the chair legs for support.  “Daddy,” she sobbed, “I’m really sorry.”

“I am too honey,” he replied, “Try to cooperate with your punishment and I’ll get this over with as soon as possible.”

In a formal voice he said, “You are being spanked because you cheated, and cheating is wrong.  Understand?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Then tell me why you are being spanked!”

“Because I cheated and cheating is wrong.”

“Remember that,” he warned, “I’ll be asking you again, and I expect the right answer each time.”

“Yes Daddy.”

So far, Cara had shown a good attitude and had accepted and cooperated with her punishment well.  Therefore, father decided to allow her to keep a bit of dignity, at least for the first part of the spanking.  First, her nightgown was thin, so he delayed the mortifying event of Cara’s unveiling by pulling the cloth tightly across her buttocks to keep them covered for the first part of her spanking.

Second, he allowed her to maintain a bit of stoicism, at least at first.

Therefore, the first part of Cara’s spanking was at a leisurely tempo and not terribly hard.  He delivered spanks calculated to sting only moderately, and to paint the first delicate blush of color to her buttocks, hips, and thighs.  Cara sobbed a bit, but took it well.

Twice he temporarily increased the force and the tempo of his spanks to explore her limits.  Each time he eased off when her feet started drumming and the first groans escaped her lips.  Occasionally he stopped to lecture her a bit.  He continued this gentle treatment for a full ten minutes.  By then,  a definite pinkness shined through the thin cloth of her nightgown and her increasing squirms betrayed the increasing heat in her bottom.

He stopped, “Cara, tell me why you are being spanked!”

She choked and sobbed a bit, but finally got it out, “Because I cheated and cheating is wrong.”

“That’s right honey” he replied gently.  “It’s time for this spanking to get serious.  It’s OK to cry.  Nobody will hear except me and you.  OK?”

It actually wasn’t OK with Cara, but there wasn’t much for her to say except, “Yes daddy”.

Finally, reluctantly, he raised the back of Cara’s nightgown, raised it well above her waistline and held it high with his left hand.  Cara groaned in despair.  Her pink nates clenched, her legs crossed, she squeezed the chair legs with a white-knuckled grip.   

It had been over a year since father had directly seen that bottom.  There had been lots of changes over those months!  Many conflicting thoughts suddenly clogged his brain.  The sight of her shapely young bottom reminded him of the good years with his departed wife, the female perfection in front of him elicited feelings of fatherly pride, but there were also basic male thoughts that he quickly and guiltily suppressed.

Pushing his mental fog aside, he forced his brain to attend strictly to the business at hand.  He raised his hand high, and unleashed a quick fusillade of firm spanks to the fleshiest part of Cara’s blossoming bottom.  Her head popped up, her pony tail bounced, and a tentative  “Owwwwww” escaped her lips.  Predictably, Cara tried to hold out, to preserve what was left of her teenaged dignity, but within seconds she found herself bucking, twisting, howling, and piteously begging for respite.     

Father spread out the spanks, showing no special favoritism to either buttock, either thigh, or either sit spot.  Like magic, her entire bottom morphed from hot pink to livid red.  In the process, Cara lost control of her legs.  First her feet drummed on the floor, then they levitated from the carpet and her legs fluttered like a swimmer.  Finally she lost all control, and her legs kicked in all directions.  In the process, Cara showed her father far more of her than he wished to see.

Father implacably spanked on, but it only took a couple more minutes of that brisk treatment before he felt her start to surrender.  Her struggles became weaker, and her wails gradually turned to heavy sobs.  It was time for the last part of his daughter’s punishment.

Father reached behind, where he had tucked the hairbrush.

He tapped her right arm, “Give me this hand for safekeeping, I don’t want to hit it with the hairbrush.”

He had to ask more than once to penetrate her overloaded brain, but finally he had that vulnerable hand secured into the small of her back.

Again he asked, ““Cara, tell me why you are being spanked!”

The answer sounded odd because it was distorted by sobs and because her nose was clogged with mucus.  But she got it right, “Because I cheated and cheating is wrong.”

“That’s right Cara”, he said in an approving voice.  “You will feel this last part for the next few days.  Every time you do, I want you to remember that lesson, right?”

She choked out something that might have been “Yes daddy”.  He decided it would have to do for now.

He didn’t paddle her with his full strength, but he snapped that hairbrush into her buttocks plenty hard enough to leave painful marks.  Cara screamed and struggled at first, but she had already been spanked to the brink of surrender.   Her paddling was vigorous but relatively brief.  His goal was to leave painful reminders on the crown of her buttocks and at each sit spot.  He added a few milder blows to the backs of her thighs, and then finished with a last few moderate spanks on each cheek. 

It was over!  Cara had been spanked.

Father did the usual things that loving parents do in this situation to calm and reassure their distraught newly-spanked children.  He released the trapped hand, pulled her gown down to restore her modesty, and allowed her to her feet as soon as it seemed safe.  She did the usual dance, and cried the usual tears.  Looking at her messy face, father cussed himself for not thinking ahead.  After assuring her that he would be right back, he ran to the bathroom and quickly returned with a wet washcloth and a towel.  Gently, he wiped the tears and mucus from her face.

Finally he sat back down on the spanking chair and pulled her into his lap.  She put her face into her father’s strong shoulder and allowed herself one final cry.

When she finally had the crying out of her system, father escorted her to her bedroom.  Automatically, Cara laid herself face-down on her bed and allowed a few last tears to be absorbed by her pillow.  After again assuring her of his quick return, father returned to the bathroom to rummage in the back of a drawer for a jar of aloe cream that he remembered from long past spankings.

Returning, he showed her the jar, “Would you like me to leave so you can put this on yourself or...?”

“Cara spoke quickly and with assurance, “No Daddy, don’t leave.  You just saw my bottom, so please go ahead.”           

Daintily he lifted the back of her nightgown to expose the red and mottled flesh.  She flinched at the first cold touch of the creme, but then purred as he gently spread it and she felt its soothing effect.

He replaced her gown, kissed her damp cheek, and then knelt next to the bed to hold her hand.  Soon her breathing became deep and regular.  It was much too early to put her to bed for the night, so father crept out of the room to allow her a short nap while he prepared a light supper for them.


First, he set the living room back to rights to erase all vestiges of Cara’s spanking.  He opened the curtains to allow in the waning evening light, replaced the borrowed chair back to the dining room table, and returned the hairbrush to its drawer.

Then he put soup to warm on the stove, made two ham sandwiches, and set the table.  Thoughtfully, he placed a pillow on Cara’s chair.

Then he returned to Cara’s room, knocked on the door, and found her just in the process of waking up.  They shared a tender moment of reconciliation, and then he walked his spanked princess to the dining room.

They shared supper, and then father efficiently cleared off the dishes and brought Cara notepaper and pen so that she could write letters of apology to her Biology teacher and the Principal.  He would have them delivered to the school the following morning.


The Principal had ensured that all three girls had assignments from all of her teachers so that their two days of suspension needn’t be a total waste.  After packing her schoolbooks and a tush-cushion, Cara rode to work the following morning with her father.  He dropped her off at the library, fortunately only two blocks from his office. 

Cara had agreed that she would diligently do schoolwork work all day, and mostly she did.  At noon, father took her to lunch.  That evening she was on strict restriction.  Her father checked her work and quizzed her on her study assignments.  The next day went the same way.

Because father considered that her spanking and suspension had been sufficient punishment, her restriction ended the same day she was allowed back in school.


At school, Cara squirmed in the hard wooden seats.  Her father had been right about her feeling that hairbrush for a few days!

At lunch, she finally had a chance to compare notes with Edna and Michelle, the two girls who had been suspended along with her.  After hearing their stories, Cara wouldn’t have changed places with either of them.  Edna’s bottom was still a mess!  She had been spanked over her panties in front of her younger brother and sister.  That part was embarrassing, but then she had been taken to her bedroom for a bare-bottom session with her father’s belt.  Cara was glad that her father never used the belt! 

Both Cara and Edna agreed that Michelle had gotten the worst deal, even though her parents weren’t spankers.  She was on strict restriction for a full thirty days!

Regardless of what we may think of the severity of Cara’s punishment, she never again cheated; not on high school, not in college, and not in her later married life.  Thanks to that Principal and her father, Cara had learned a valuable life’s lesson.  Cara’s mother would have been proud of her, and satisfied with her husband’s parenting skills.

© Guyspencer 2013

Double Jeopardy (M/m)

© Guyspencer 2013
Double Jeopardy

Normally, Sam Reynolds would be happy to rush home after school.  But today was an exception.  In fact, today he dreaded his arrival so much that he delayed the inevitable by dawdling all the way home from school.  As he walked, the coarse fabric of his corduroy pants irritated his still-stinging bottom.  Earlier that afternoon, those pants had been around his ankles as his school’s Dean had delivered six nasty paddle strokes to Sam’s bottom, a bottom padded by only the thin fabric of his boxer shorts.

Although he had already suffered through his punishment at school, Sam knew that he was still in big trouble.  He would soon run afoul of one of the Reynolds family’s most inflexible rules; “When you get paddled at school, you get spanked at home, only worse”.  There was no doubt in Sam’s mind that his already-stinging bottom was about to experience a whole new level of pain.  The only question was if his mother would do the deed shortly after he arrived home, or if he would be made to wait for the more energetic and painful ministrations of his father. 

You see, over the last few months Sam had been having trouble with his mouth.  It probably had something to do with him adjusting to the new flood of male hormones coursing through his teenage body.  Whatever the cause, inappropriate words just seemed to pop out at the worst possible times.  Adults thought of it as “backtalk” or “disrespectful behavior”, but to Sam it was simply “stupid words popping out”.  When stressed, he tended to blurt out things that he seldom really meant to say; things he immediately felt sorry for.  At home such incidents had gotten him warned and then finally spanked by both his mother and father.  But by far, his biggest problem was at school.

Today had been the third such incident this semester.  In a moment of stress, he had disrespectfully and loudly talked back to a teacher.   

Sam would always think of his junior high school’s Dean as a fair, but unimaginative man.  He was so predictable that when you were sent to him for a serious matter, it was easy to guess what your punishment would be.  Students always started a new semester with a clean slate (an innovation he was proud of) regardless of what had happened earlier in the school year.  The first time you got into trouble, you would get an after school detention.  The second time you could expect three swats over the seat of your pants with the Dean’s impressive paddle, and the third time would earn a full six swats (the maximum allowed by the School Board).  Usually those swats were enough to convince students to behave, but four or more disciplinary trips to the Deans office in any single semester would earn the unfortunate student another six swats plus a minimum 2-day suspension from school.         

Since today marked Sam’s third visit to the Dean’s office this semester, he knew to expect the full six swats. But then there would be more at home! 

As usual, the school secretary led Sam into the Dean’s office and dropped his file and the orange teacher’s referral slip detailing Sam’s offense on the great man’s desk.  After a quick glance at the referral, the Dean looked up at the secretary and said, “Give us a few minutes, and then I’ll likely need a witness”.  The secretary nodded knowingly and left, closing the office door behind her.   After another long look at the referral slip, he consulted Sam’s file, shook his head, and then sat Sam down for a long talk about “thinking before shooting your mouth off”.  Finally he picked up the phone; “what is your home phone number?” he asked.  His heart racing, Sam dutifully stuttered the fateful number that would lead the Dean directly to the ear of his mother. 

She answered on the second ring, and Sam was treated to a one-sided conversation about himself and his coming paddling.  “Yes Mrs. Reynolds” the Dean said, “I will be giving Sam the maximum paddling that I am allowed, but please understand that if this happens again this semester he will also earn at least a two-day suspension.”  Then Sam heard the slight buzz of his mother responding; he could tell from the pitch of her voice that she was very upset, and that he would be in deep trouble when he finally got home.  Finally the Dean spoke again:  “Thanks for the offer Mrs. Reynolds, but school board regulations do not allow me to paddle a bare bottom.  However, the specific words are ‘six strokes maximum applied on the covered buttocks’.  That leaves me with the discretion to have Sam lower his pants so I can paddle him over his underwear:  Would that be OK with you?”   His heart pounding, Sam’s sharp young ears heard the buzz of his mother’s emphatic response.   “OK then it’s decided” the Dean responded.  “I will punish your son and then send him back to class.  It really is imperative that he learn his lesson this time because a suspension will affect his grades.”  Sam couldn’t hear his mother’s exact response, but doubtless it was mother promising to reinforce the Dean’s lesson as soon as she got her hands on her son.

As Sam squirmed in his seat, the Dean and his mother said their goodbyes.  All too soon, the Dean hung up the phone and turned his full attention to Sam.  “OK, stand up son, I believe that you are familiar with the position,” the man said, as he reached out and cleared a few items from the center of his desk, “Except that I will need you to lower your pants below your knees this time.”  Shakily, Sam stood up and walked to the Dean’s desk, where he would soon be bending over, and started fumbling with his belt.  As Sam lowered his pants, the Dean stood, retrieved his paddle from its hook on the wall, opened the door, and called for the secretary.  “We need a witness,” he said out the door.

The secretary walked in.  Her brows raised and her cheeks colored when she saw Sam’s lowered pants, so she quickly closed the door behind her.  With a nod at the secretary, the Dean quickly got down to business.  He reminded Sam about the reason for his punishment, and then warned him to stay in position and keep his hands away from his bottom.  He then positioned himself to deliver the first swat.

Two minutes later, Sam had suffered through the first five swats, but not silently.  There was nothing that could have prepared him for the pain of that big paddle on his nearly unprotected bottom, so he cried unashamedly.  Twice, the Dean had to patiently reposition the boy so his punishment could continue.  Even though the school had been built solid enough to last for generations, two students who were walking down the hallway past the school office clearly heard the paddling.  They slowed their pace and looked at each other with big eyes as they heard the paddle smack into buttflesh and then heard the agonized cries of a male student. 

If nothing else, the Dean was an expert hand with a paddle.  He stood back and landed the last swat down low on Sam’s bottom, right where he would be sitting for the rest of the afternoon.  Four hours later when Sam’s mother would finally get a chance to inspect the damage, she would find only a slightly mottled redness with no bruising, yet the man had delivered a truly memorable paddling. 

Sam’s eyes were still red as he crept into his classroom and returned the signed referral slip to his teacher.  She didn’t need to read it to know that Sam had been paddled.  “I hope you learned your lesson this time” she said as she pointed him back to his seat.  She swallowed a satisfied smile as she saw him wince when his bottom met the hardness of his wooden chair.      

It was three excruciating hours before the final bell rang, leaving Sam no alternative but to go home and “face the music”.  Not wanting to further antagonize his mother, Sam didn’t take as long as he would have liked to walk those ten blocks home.  As it turned out, he arrived just as his brother and sister’s elementary school bus let them off in front of the house.  He had been hoping that they would already be home and out of the kitchen before he had to face his mother, but it was not to be.  They would witness his humiliation.   

As soon as Sam walked into the side door of the house, his mother called him into the kitchen.  While his little brother and sister looked on amazed, she scolded him for being disrespectful to his teacher then suddenly stopped, looked him up and down, and barked;  “Shoes, pants and shirt…off…now!” Sam’s brother and sister’s amazed looks turned to smug smiles as they watched their brother shakily strip to his underwear. 

In the Reynolds household, spankings were almost invariably given in private, but all three children were convinced that a spanking was imminent right there in the kitchen.  Although Sam would rather have had more time to let his bottom heal before suffering another spanking, he was also a tiny bit relieved that his mother was apparently about to spank him.  He was much more afraid of his father’s punishments, especially his belt!

The truth was, Mrs. Reynolds hated to spank her kids, but she greatly preferred to get punishments out of the way quickly.  Part of that was her innate kindness towards her children.  She usually gravitated towards the least, and the quickest, punishment that was consistent with the situation.  The other reason was that she hated for her husband to come home to unpleasantness.  So to spare him, she often dealt with disciplinary problems before he arrived home.  Unfortunately, Sam’s behavior problem was just too big to be solved by a mere “mommy spanking”.  This was a job for daddy, and perhaps even a job for daddy’s belt! 
As Sam stood in front of his mother wearing just his T-shirt and underpants, she ordered him to turn around and bend over.  Without warning, she grabbed the elastic of his shorts and pulled out and down, exposing the boy’s red bottom.  “See?” she said, turning to the other two children, “This is what happens when you are disrespectful to your teacher.  But that’s just the beginning for your brother.  Wait until his father gets home.  Then he is in for a blistering!”  Suddenly all hope evaporated for Sam.  He thought he was in for the worst spanking ever.   

Mrs. Reynolds let go of the elastic, allowing it to snap back onto the boy’s tender bottom.  He yelped and stood up straight.  She grabbed him by the ear and led him to a corner, “You wait here until your father gets home” she ordered.

The wait seemed forever, yet when he finally heard his father’s car pull into the drive it suddenly seemed way too short.  Corner time wasn’t a normal event in the Reynolds household.  Sam’s brother and sister tried to question him about what he had done, but were quickly shooed off by mother.  Standing in one place for that long was amazingly hard, so mother twice sharply told Sam to stand still.  Sam’s bottom tingled and he wanted desperately to rub it, but somehow he knew that wouldn’t be allowed. 

Mrs. Reynolds had already called her husband, Earl, at work to warn him what to expect.  He kissed & hugged his wife, greeted the two younger children, and then led Sam down the hall into his bedroom.  For the second time since he arrived home from school, Sam assumed that he was moments from being spanked.  Instead, his father gave him a friendly hug before sitting him down for a long, calm talk.  The talk ended only when they both smelled supper and heard the clink of dishes.  “You have a serious punishment coming son” his father warned, “but let’s have supper first”.  Sam received another hug from his father and then was escorted to the dining room.

Supper was a quiet affair.  Sam only nibbled at his food and felt the curious stares of his younger siblings burning through him.  After supper, the parents took all three children into the living room for a talk:  “Sam got into trouble today and he is very close to getting suspended at school.” The father began, “You will probably hear him get punished later, and that won’t be pleasant for any of us, but we need for all three of you to learn an important lesson from this incident so that we never have to spank any of you for this again.  OK?”  Wide-eyed, all three children agreed.
The mother spoke up next:  “We hope and expect that none of you will ever be suspended from school, but your father and I have discussed it, and this is what will happen if you do:  First, for getting in such bad trouble you will be strapped.  We rarely use a belt on any of you, but this is one time when it will definitely happen.  Understand?”  All three children nodded solemnly.

“OK then” she continued, “this is what school days will be like if any of you get suspended and have to stay home.  First, you will only be allowed to wear underwear just like Sam is right now.  That will make it much more convenient for us to spank you for any laziness, inattention or disobedience.   Second, Daddy will start out your day with a bare-bottom spanking right here in the living room every day before he goes to work.  Got it?”  Three mouths opened in amazement, but finally all three nodded agreement.

She continued: “All morning you will do chores, such as floor scrubbing or toilet cleaning.  In the afternoons you will do school work while I personally supervise.  If you misbehave during the day, you will immediately be spanked and then lose your underpants until I say different.  If you’re good, I may allow you to put them back on before everybody else comes home.”

By this time, all three children were in shock.  Normally, they never saw each other naked.  Mr. Reynolds spoke up to add one more detail; “If I come home from work and find you without your underpants, I will assume that I didn’t spank you hard enough that morning, so you get it again that evening.”

Finally, the parents concluded the family business by stressing that this new rule applied to all three of them, not just Sam.  “Make sure this never happens. There is no reason for any of you to ever be suspended, so we will not tolerate it” was Father’s final advice before he turned his attention to Sam.

“Sam, it’s time for you to prepare for your punishment.  I want you to go to your bedroom, remove your underwear and sit quietly on your bed.  I will be in with the hairbrush, and then you can expect a very hard spanking for the way you acted in school today.  Everybody hopes that you finally learn your lesson this time.  But if you don’t, nobody can say that you weren’t warned.”

Sam’s eyes filled with tears, “Y-y-yes sir” he finally responded before getting up and padding towards his bedroom.  He knew it was going to be bad, but at least he had somehow avoided a session with his father’s belt.     

The spanking happened about thirty minutes later.  Mr. Reynolds came into the room, purposely left the door wide open so that the other two children would clearly hear the proceedings, and without further delay took the boy across his lap and vigorously applied the back of the hairbrush to his son’s bare bottom.  Sam quickly started crying, and then wailing.  His little brother and sister had plenty to hear.  Normally, Mr. Reynolds would have started with a “warm up” hand spanking before welding the hairbrush, but he noticed that Sam’s bottom had already been “warmed up” from his early paddling.  Besides, he intended for Sam to remember this particular spanking for a long time.  So Sam felt the full bite of the hairbrush from the first spank until the very last. 

But still, domestic justice was tempered by parental mercy.  The spanking took slightly more than ten minutes, but Sam was actually being spanked less than half of that time.  Earl deliberately stopped for several longish pauses.  Earl Reynolds was a loving father.  He wanted this punishment to be memorable and effective, but not brutal.  At each pause he waited until Sam had quieted, and then talked to him for a bit, forcing him to respond.  The idea was to force Sam to keep his mind focused on the purpose of his spanking, and on the behavior that he must change.  This delay also gave Earl an opportunity to evaluate the darkening color of Sam’s bottom, to decide where to concentrate the next swats, and to readjust Sam’s position as necessary. 

Most of the time Mr. Reynolds used his right leg to pin down his son’s legs, but towards the end he released them to expose a bit more spanking area along Sam’s upper thighs.    

Every parent must make choices.  Ideally, Mother would have been in the bedroom to show her parental solidarity during Sam’s punishment, but she couldn’t be in two places at once! Instead, she was in the living room with her two youngest children so that she could remind them of the lesson involved, as it was reinforced by the impressive sounds emanating from Sam’s bedroom.  With any luck, and with good parenting, the two younger children would learn to not repeat their big brother’s error, and this punishment would never need to be repeated.   

Finally the sounds of Sam’s spanking dwindled and then ended.  Mother sent the two, throughly impressed, younger siblings to their rooms, and then was free to be with Sam and Earl.  She arrived just in time to see the last of Sam’s naked, lewd, spank-dance.  In a tender moment, the two parents hugged their sniffling, wet-faced, red-bottomed offspring and assured him that all was forgiven.

In return, he tearfully apologized and insisted that he had finally learned his lesson. 

What followed was part indignity and part pleasure for Sam.  Still naked, his mother laid him on his bed and applied cooling creme to his bottom.  Then she helped him into his pajamas.  They gave Sam an hour to recover, and then required him to write two simple letters of apology, which he would deliver the following morning to the Dean and to the teacher he had offended.      


Children don’t grow up and mature in a steady, linear manner.  The process actually happens in fits and starts.  So it often happens that just when a behavior issue grows until is seems to the parent to be insolvable, it disappears.  So it was with Sam’s “mouth” problem.  After that day, the issue disappeared.  Was it the spanking?  ...or did Sam just finally, naturally, grow out of his problem?  Was that nasty hairbrushing really necessary?  Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds will never know!  As parents they must make their choices, and then they must live with them. 

However, they do know that they never had a similar problem with their younger two children.  So it seems entirely possible that a single spanking resulted in three lessons learned.  That’s a bargain!

© Guyspencer 2013

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

After the Rapture, Part 4

© Guyspencer 2013
After the Rapture, Part 4/Conclusion

The guard led Mary back to the Superintendent’s office, knocked on the door, ushered Mary inside, and left.  It took Mary a few moments to recognize the man now sitting across from the Superintendent.  It was “her” Justice!  Not wearing his black robe, he looked different.  Obviously not prepared to see Mary nude, the man seemed quite flustered.  Realizing the reason for his unease, Mary blushed deeply herself. 

It being her office, the Superintendent spoke first, “This is unusual, very unusual, and slightly irregular.  Since it’s been approved by the Senior Justice, so it must be OK though.  We have something here called the ‘Inmate Removal Program’, usually shortened to IRP.  This is a program, under very strict protocols, for people to purchase the services of certain skilled inmates.  I’m not totally in favor of it, but it helps us finance our little jail so it’s a necessary evil.  A request has been made for your services by this man.”

Mary’s blood rose, “I don’t know what ‘services’ he’s thinking about, but if this man thinks he can purchase my body, he can go jump.  I’ll just stay right here and take my spankings thanks!”

The Superintendent immediately flared, but the Justice blushed and winced.  The Superintendent stood to berate Mary, but the Justice interrupted her, “We’re a Christian society.  It’s good that this woman respects her own virtue so much that she is willing to sacrifice to protect it.”

He looked into Mary’s eyes, “I assure you madam, I’ve never forced myself on any woman, and I don’t intend to start now.  I’m both a man of God and a Justice.  Your virtue will be safe with me.  By the way, my name is Harvey Simmons, you many call me Justice Simmons.”    

Then in a reasonable voice he explained, “My wife was taken in the Rapture.  Since then I’ve stayed busy, but my home has suffered.  It desperately needs the services of a housekeeper. You would, of course, have private sleeping arrangements.  However, I can’t leave an inmate there alone all day, so you would be working in the courthouse cafeteria by day, and cleaning my house evenings and weekends.  That’s lots of work and long hours, but the alternative is for you  to remain here in jail.”

Mary considered, “Would I get spankings at your house?” 

“That would depend on you,” the man replied.  “The program leaves that option up to me.  You could get daily spankings and/or separate punishments for bad behavior.  I also can return you at any time if I’m unhappy with your work or your behavior.  However, if I’m happy with you, you may anticipate that I would be unlikely to spank you.”

The Superintendent spoke up, “That neglects her intake spanking which isn’t optional, and it must be a severity ten!  However, if you prefer I could have a guard do that before she leaves with you.”

“That could be Ms. Blackburn’s choice,” said Harvey.  “If she had her spanking here it would happen out in the common area, right?”

The Superintendent nodded her agreement.

“I’m no expert spanker, but I’ve obviously watched experts do it hundreds of times in my line of work.  If she would rather suffer her spanking in private, then I could do it shortly after we arrive at my house.”      

“But we have some pretty stringent procedures to assure that she really gets the proper spanking,” the Superintendent noted.  “We could even require you to repeat it if you don’t do it right the first time, so don’t even think of going easy on her.”


Ultimately Mary made her choice, so Justice Simmons wrote a substantial check to the Christian Guards for Mary’s services.  An hour later, after her ankle bracelet had been specially reprogrammed, many papers had been signed, and Harvey had somehow produced street clothes to fit Mary, they were driving home in Justice Simmons’s car. 

Mary turned in her seat and gave him a frank, appraising look.  “Justice Simmons, of all the women you see in your court, why did you pick me to take home?”

His ears instantly turned red!  “Truth?” he asked. 

“Yes Justice Simmons, let’s please get the truth out so we both know what it is.”

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “Everything I’ve told you is true.  My house really does need your services, I really did lose my wife in the rapture, and you really are safe with me.”

She continued to probe, “But that’s not everything is it?”

“No,” he admitted reluctantly, “it’s not everything.  I’m a bit infatuated with you.  Perhaps it’s because I sense you’re a lonely soul like me, perhaps you remind me of my wife, perhaps I just thought it would be nice for your presence to lighten up my home for a couple weeks.  But still my promise remains, you are safe with me.”

Finally Mary relaxed.  She understood what was happening, and she considered herself uncommonly lucky!


They parked in his driveway.  Before letting her out of the car he reminded her about her ankle bracelet. “You won’t be locked up in my house but you’re still a prisoner.  Sneak out, and you will probably be back in custody before I know you are gone.  You don’t want to add Escape to your charges do you?”

“No Sir,” Mary replied meekly, “I won’t try anything stupid.”

“Good” Harvey replied, “In that case; welcome to my home.  Lets go in and get that unpleasant business behind us.”

With her heart in her throat, Mary followed the man into his house.  Her first impression was that Justice Simmons had told the truth about the place needing a housekeeper!  He showed her to her room.  Having been unused, it was the only neat room in the house.

In the living room, she automatically starting picking up things. 

“Start with the couch,” he suggested, “we’re going to need it shortly.”

That reminder stirred up butterflies in her belly, but she removed a stack of books, several tattered magazines and an old pizza box.  After a bit of dusting, the couch was clean.  She looked at him nervously.

He spoke in a kind voice, “Let’s get this over with.  Going easy on you wouldn’t be a kindness because your spanking would just have to be repeated.  So go take a quick shower and use the bathroom.  Dry off, but don’t bother replacing your clothing.  Don’t delay, let’s get this over.”

Mary looked at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights, “You mean naked?”

“You saw several spankings in the jail, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Were any of those inmates wearing anything at the time?”

“No sir.”

“Then why should you be any different?”

She stick a toe in the carpet, and looked down miserably, “I just thought ...”

“You thought wrong,” Harvey said sternly.  “I’ve already seen you naked today anyhow, so let’s just get on with it.”

Her answer was a contrite, “Yes sir.”

Mary disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.

While he waited, Harvey opened a bag that the jail Superintendent had loaned him.  He extracted a standard Lexan paddle, a timer, and a small video camera. 

Mary returned to find Harvey fiddling with the camera.  Looking up, he was surprised to see that Mary had bothered to wrap her nude body in a large towel.  The effect was even more ravishing than if she were naked! 

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, indicating the towel, “I know it’ll need to come off for the spanking.”

Stunned by the sight, Harvey could hardly speak.

He balanced the camera on a stack of books, aimed it at the center of the couch, and cleared his constricted throat.  “This is how the Superintendent verifies that you received a proper intake spanking.  After we’re done, I’ll also need to shoot a good closeup of your bottom.”

Mary felt something squeeze inside her, almost sending her back to the bathroom!  “Yes sir.”    

He took a moment to gather himself physically and mentally.  As he sat down purposely in the center of the couch, there was no hiding his massive erection.  He looked down at it frankly, “Sorry about that.  I’m a male, it happens.  But I’m no animal, so you’re still safe with me.  Understand?”

It was a truly awkward moment for both, but Mary replied, “Yes sir, I understand”.

He directed her to stand in front of him.  “You might be surprised to hear that I mostly disapprove of the Public Modesty Act.  It greatly affects women, but barely affects men.  Unsurprisingly, it was written and passed exclusively by men.”

Mary started to relax, but his next words changed that!

“Still you deserve to be punished.  We don’t get to pick and choose which laws to obey!  And as a Justice, I don’t get to pick and choose which laws to enforce.  You deliberately and flagrantly flaunted the law, so now you’re a jail inmate and are about to receive the painful spanking that the law mandates for your actions.  Is that clear?”

Dry mouthed, Mary nodded soberly.

He continued, “I have been instructed to give you five minutes with my hand, and then five minutes with the paddle.  When I’m done, your bottom will be a mess.  I might have been inclined to give you less than a ‘tenner’, but I have no say in this matter, you must receive a severity ten spanking!”

He waited for her nod before continuing, “Afterwards, you may go to bed for the evening.  They even allow that in the jail.  I am on my honor to give you no soothing creams or pain medications, although I may apply antiseptic if your skin is broken.”

He waited, apparently expecting some acknowledgment.  Wordlessly, Mary nodded again.

“You have one choice to make before we begin.”

“Wha–what?” Mary chirped.

“Do you wish your spanking to start immediately, or would you like a ‘warm-up’ first?  Either way, you get the same spanking.”

“I d–don’t understand,” Mary stammered.

“Some people say a hard spanking doesn’t hurt as much if you have a moderate spanking first.  It’s supposed to numb you a bit perhaps, or perhaps a hard spanking just isn’t such a great shock to a bottom that already stings a bit.  Anyhow, it’s your choice.”

He could see the wheels turning inside Mary’s head.  Finally she decided, “I’ll take the warm-up please.”

He picked up a cushion and laid it across his lap to accommodate his erection, and then laid another cushion to his left for Mary to use as a pillow. “Drop the towel then, and put yourself into position.”

Mary crawled up onto the couch and laid her naked body across Harvey’s lap.  She buried her face into the provided cushion.

He started gently, spanking her white buttocks with little more that deft snaps of his fingertips.  He carefully covered every square inch of her bottom, including around her hips and down the backs of her thighs.  At first, Mary barely wriggled, and barely breathed.  Then he did it all over again, using a bit of palm this time.   That stung and made her wriggle, but she took it quietly.

But then Mary started noticing an unexpected effect.  She found herself becoming distinctly aroused!  Harvey started on a third wave of spanks, these were definitely hard enough to put color into her bottom.  Responding to heat coming from both the front and the back, Mary groaned, twisted and hunched. 

Harvey recognized her arousal, but he was aroused himself!  Still, he did his very best to concentrate on his mission.

Finally, he paused.  “Open your thighs wide.”

She looked back at him, “Whaaaatt?”

“Sorry,” he replied, “I need to prepare that area also.”

She obeyed, revealing her last few anatomical secrets to Justice Simmons’s eyes.  Glistening moisture just outside her most personal place betrayed her arousal. 

What man wouldn’t be tempted?  Harvey knew that Mary was in a vulnerable state.  If he simply traced that moisture back to its origin and rubbed a bit, it was likely that he could have had his way with Mary.  But he had made a promise, and to him that meant that he wouldn’t take unfair advantage of her.  So he did the responsible thing; he ignored their mutual arousal and got back to the business of spanking her.

Meanwhile, Mary’s brain was clogged with sensations and emotions.  Millions of nerve endings in her bottom and thighs sent her brain urgent messages of pain and sting; but she simultaneously received very different, even more urgent, messages from her groin area.  Also she was scared, and surprisingly contrite.  Finally, she was having contradictory thoughts about Harvey.  She was certainly afraid of the severe spanking he had promised her, but part of her was afraid that he would rape her first, and the other part of her was afraid that he wouldn’t! 

It didn’t take long for Harvey to finish Mary’s warm-up.   He “pinked up” Mary’s inner thighs as she twisted and gasped with a new urgency, and then he gave her just a few finishing spanks to the center of each buttock.  Finally he urged her to her feet.  “Do you need to pee or anything before we start your ‘official’ spanking?” he asked.

Rubbing her nether cheeks, Mary considered for a moment before replying, “No Sir.”

Moving purposely, Harvey turned on the video camera, verified it was pointed properly, picked up the timer and the paddle, and then resumed his place on the couch.  “The sooner we start, the sooner it’s over.”

Trembling and teary eyed, Mary crawled back into place.  The Justice took a moment to remind her about why she was being punished and warned to expect a severe punishment.  Finally he warned, “First a five-minute hand spanking and then you will receive a short break before your paddling.  Cooperate as best you can.  Five minutes is a minimum.  Should you manage to stop or delay your spanking, I will add an appropriate amount of time.  Understand?”

Mary nodded her head and pressed her face into the pillow.

Harvey pushed a button to start the timer, lifted his palm high, and landed the first solid spanks to Mary’s trembling orbs.  Mary jerked and howled into the pillow.  Poor Mary’s firm, athletic rear cheeks flattened and rippled with each spank.  Harvey was shocked at how quickly and how deeply they turned red.  As before, he took care to not miss a square inch of spankable territory. 

At first, he didn’t bother to restrain her legs.  Her kicking and splaying gave him opportunities to land slaps to her tender inner thighs, which made her howls even more frantic.  At first, Mary had kept her arms immobilized by wrapping them around her pillow, but soon they escaped to go to the aid of her besieged bottom.  Of course, Harvey was ready for that move, so he simply pinned them behind her in the traditional manner.  At the three minute mark, Harvey finally threw a leg over her calves to immobilize her, and continued spanking until the timer buzzed.

By then, Mary was nearly exhausted and a total mess.  It took her a few moments to notice that nobody was spanking her bottom. 

As he gave Mary time to catch her breath and recover a bit, Harvey inspected his work and ruefully nursed his stinging hand.  Now he knew why the guards, bailiffs, and matrons always used their paddles. At this stage, Harvey estimated that Mary had suffered a severity five spanking (a “fiver”).  He would have been happy to leave it at that, but unfortunately Mary was required to receive a “tener” because that was routinely required for all new jail inmates.  Besides, that video camera was still unblinkingly recording the scene.  The prison Supervisor would review the video file tomorrow, and she needed to be happy with Mary’s punishment.

Harvey considered allowing Mary up for a few minutes to recover her mental facilities and to rub her sore bottom, but decided that wouldn’t be a kindness.  Better to have her inevitable punishment over with!  With Mary still blubbering, still freshly spanked, and still restrained over his lap, he purposely picked up the paddle.    

He spoke in a voice that managed to be simultaneously firm and sad, “OK Mary, you made the choice to be a scofflaw, and it was you who decided it would be fun to taunt the Christian Guard patrol with your lawbreaking.  Believe it or not, I get no pleasure from what I’m about to do.  Your bottom will hurt for a few days, but you will survive and hopefully you will learn from the experience.”

He restarted the timer, raised the paddle high, and then quickly landed one full-strength swat on the summit of each buttock.  Mary screamed and ineffectually bucked.  For the next several minutes he continued to paddle her bottom and thighs, but with swats of more measured intensity, timed several seconds apart, but still devastating in their effect on Mary.  As he worked, he watched the fight drain out of Mary, but he also watched that timer.

At the four-minute mark, Mary’s bottom and thighs were livid, but he had purposely spanked them just short of bruising.  He had saved that part until last, when Mary would hopefully be too far “gone” to even notice.    Now that time had arrived!

Given a good paddle, any healthy man can do an amazing amount of damage to a bottom in a small amount of time.  In that last remaining minute before the timer dinged, Harvey delivered a rapid fusillade of full-strength swats to Mary’s bottom as she laid exhausted and merely moaned.

When the timer finally dinged, Mary’s bottom had been spanked to the proper “intensity ten” specification, and (strange as it may sound for such a brutal punishment) Harvey had done it in the kindest possible way. 

He had one task left.  Harvey helped Mary to her feet, and then bent the still-distraught lady over the end of the couch so that he could use the camera to take a vivid closeup of her damaged bottom.  His duty done, Harvey turned off the camera before packing it back in the bag along with the timer and the paddle.  They would go back to the jail supervisor tomorrow.

Harvey carefully comforted the still-sobbing Mary for several minutes.  “Carefully” because she was still quite naked, and in a vulnerable state, yet he was a male who was determined to protect her by  “keeping it in his pants.”

After reminding her one last time that her punishment was over, he led her into the guest room, pulled back the top sheet, and guided her face down onto the bed.  As Mary sobbed into her pillow, Harvey inspected her swollen bottom and gingerly applied antiseptic cream in a few spots where the paddle had scuffed skin.  When Harvey felt fresh swelling inside his own pants, he turned out the lights and beat a timely retreat.  Leaving that beautiful lady without so much as a kiss to her cheek was the hardest thing that the man could remember doing in his adult life.

It was still early evening, so Harvey sat up for two lonely hours before finally going to his own bed, still alone.


Mary had dropped off into endorphin-induced sleep moments after Harvey had left her.  She gradually awoke shortly after midnight.  She laid face-down allowing her brain the process the evening’s events.  Her bottom still stung, but didn’t throb too much as long as she laid still.  She felt back there cautiously.  She knew her bottom was supposed to be “black & blue” from her “tenner” and had little doubt that would be exactly the case in the morning. 

Her thoughts turned to Harvey.  She didn’t blame him for her spanking.  She knew that he had been required to do that, and that worse would have happened if he had allowed her to stay in the prison.  Besides, as Harvey had reminded her, it had been her own idea to play the scofflaw!

She remembered her arousal triggered by her earlier warm-up spanking.  Had Harvey tried just a little, she would have happily spread her legs for him!  She was aware that he had been aroused also, and knew that Harvey had shown restraint all evening.  He had kept his promise!  Remembering that warm-up spanking, her hand automatically strayed down below her navel and became busy.

Aroused and lonely, she couldn’t sleep and she couldn’t get Harvey off her mind.  The more she thought of him, the more she realized that she had stumbled into an amazingly nice guy.  A guy who was presumably available...right in the next bedroom...


Not surprisingly, Harvey slept only fitfully.  Yes, the evening’s happenings were weighing on his mind.  Sleepily, he yet again tried to psychoanalyze himself.  What did he think he was doing?  Did he really think that Mary would fall for him just because he dragged her home?  Besides, he had spanked her, spanked her hard!  She must truly be pissed off at him now.  So here he was with his dream lady in the house, yet he was just as lonely as before!

Somewhere in the house a door creaked.  Listening carefully, Harvey thought he heard footfalls.  Perhaps Mary was using the bathroom?  He thought vaguely of getting up to ensure that she wasn’t trying to escape, but then remembered her ankle bracelet.  The latch on his bedroom door clicked.  He heard the door open and close. 

Barely breathing, Harvey decided to pretend sleep to see what she was up to.  As if in a dream, he felt his mattress depress with the weight of another body.  He felt soft hands caress him.  He allowed his own hand to stray just enough to feel a female hip, and to ascertain that it was naked.  Gently, she grasped his exploring hand, kissed it, and moved it to her bare breast.  The hard nipple left no doubt what was on Mary’s mind.

A thousand emotions welled up in Harvey’s brain.  “I promised” he finally croaked, “This isn’t right.”

Mary reached down to find Harvey’s stiffness.  She wrapped her fingers around it.  “You promised that I would be safe from you”, she explained.  “Now I no longer wish to be safe from this part of you, so I’m releasing you from that portion of your promise.  Don’t worry, I’m protected.  We won’t make a baby.  I’m single and so are you, so we’re doing nothing immoral.”

It was all the convincing that Harvey needed!


I would be natural for us to focus on what happened next in that bedroom, but to do so would be to miss the most important part.  You see, the spine-tingling, toe-curling thrill of their near-simultaneous orgasms only lasted for a few delicious moments.  Great as the thrill of their first sex was, it was nothing compared to the thrill of their mutual discovery of each other.  That night, a mysterious process started.  As God always intended, man had met woman and they had began to merge into a close couple.  Never again would either person be lonely.  Never again would either of them have to face their uncertain, unfriendly, changing world alone.  Whatever happened, they would face it together.  They would forever be a couple.             


However, Mary still had her sentence to serve.  The next morning she rode back to the courthouse with Justice Simmons, and was introduced to her job in the cafeteria.  She was assigned to the scullery, a mindless job in a hot humid and cramped corner of the kitchen.  At least it had the advantage of being a stand-up job!

Harvey made it very clear to her that just because she was living in the home of a Justice, she was still an inmate and must expect no special consideration in the courthouse.  In fact just the opposite!  If he heard any complaints about her, he would be forced to prove she wasn’t receiving special treatment by punishing her!

As it turned out, that’s exactly what happened, but it only happened once before Mary learned her lesson.  Mary and her boss at the cafeteria had a misunderstanding about four days into Mary’s sentence.  Since Mary was the inmate, she automatically was in the wrong.  Harvey happened to be working in his chambers when the complaint reached him, so he dealt with the matter immediately by asking the boss to bring her to his chambers.  There, with Mary’s boss watching, he required her to remove her skirt,  lower her panties, and lay across his lap.  Using his Bailiff’s Lexan paddle, the Justice efficiently applied a “fiver” to Mary’s still-marked bottom while she bawled and wailed.  To her credit, Mary learned from the experience and there were no further such episodes.

Surprisingly, Mary’s financial talents were rather quickly noticed by the cafeteria manager.  She spent the last few days of her sentence working in the cafeteria office putting their books into order.  Afterwards, they begged her to stay on as an employee, but her former job was still open.  

Inside Justice Simmons’s home, things went far smoother.  When Harvey and Mary weren’t at the courthouse, or naked in bed, Mary spent her time busily setting Harvey’s house to rights.  However, after the first few days, they both thought of it as their house.

That time in Harvey’s chambers was by no means Mary’s last trip across Harvey’s lap, although he didn’t spank her again until her bottom healed.  Mary’s rebellious nature wasn’t something that could be fixed overnight, or by just one or two spankings.  But Harvey was always able to keep her sufficiently “on track” with just the occasional punishment spanking.  Thanks to Harvey’s attentive guidance, Mary had no more legal problems.

But there was another, more enjoyable, type of spanking!  Remembering their mutual arousal during that “warm-up” spanking, the couple learned that a moderate hand spanking made a wonderful type of foreplay, especially when a little “play acting” was added into the mix.  These “fun” spankings became a regular event for them!


Not surprisingly, Mary stayed on at the Justice’s home after her sentence was completed and that hated ankle bracelet had been removed.  She never did spend a night in that guest bedroom, nor did she ever again sleep in her old apartment.  Tongues wagged, but no adultery was involved in their relationship, so no laws were broken.  Civil marriages were a thing of the past, but Justice Simmons had no difficulty arranging a quiet wedding in a local Parson’s office.  The old Parson declared them husband and wife, and then beamed his approval as Harvey and Mary tearfully clung to each other.
With encouragement (including the occasional spanking) from her new husband, Mary changed her image and kept it carefully polished.  No longer the scofflaw futilely attacking the system from the outside, Mary gradually turned herself into an insider to be reckoned with.  Her goals never changed, but now she opposed the power of the Christian Guard with smiles, diplomacy, and political pull.  Change never happened quickly, but Harvey and Mary reveled in every tiny success.  Yes, people still talked about the “old Mary” behind her back, but they also listened when the wife of a Justice talked!

Harvey and Mary turned out to be a dedicated couple.  They were dedicated to each other, and steadfastly dedicated to reining in the power of the Christian guard by working from within its ranks.  Happy, close, and sensual as they were in private, they chose not to bring children into a world they viewed as temporary, fragile and hostile.  We don’t know if Judgement Day came within their lifetimes, but we’re sure that God looked favorably on how they used their post-rapture years.


© Guyspencer 2013