“Come now, my naughty pet; you know you’ve earned this spanking fair and square.”
A frisson went through Jack. Carlene had called him her “naughty pet” before, and it never failed to produce a pleasant sensation. Now that she’d added the word “spanking” in the same sentence, he felt an even more visceral thrill that nearly made him come undone.
“Oh...oh, Carlene, please...”
“That’s ‘Miss Carlene’ or ‘Ma’am’ to you, young man.” The brunette beauty sitting on the other side of the parlor was far younger than he; when she called him “young man” and fixed him with one of her trademark strict, no-nonsense stares, it did him in.
“Sorry, Miss...Um...I...”
“A little tongue-tied, are we, little Jackie? I think you’d better come over here and drape yourself over my lap right now, don’t you?”
Oh, yes! he thought. Please make me. Don’t let me get away with a thing.
“I said now, young man,” the dark-haired, curvy disciplinarian commanded sharply. “You’ve already earned some firm over-the-knee discipline; if I have to repeat myself again, you’re going to find sitting down particularly difficult for a few days!”
Jack felt his stomach flip in anticipation. As if robbed of volition, he walked woodenly over to where the slight young woman sat on the duvet in the parlor across from where he’d been standing. His ears went red as he approached under her watchful eye. She wore a long floral sundress that was low-cut enough to highlight her ample breasts, which he found it impossible not to gaze at longingly. Her feet were adorned with silver ankle bracelets and matching toe rings, and he noticed she had just had a French tip pedicure done. The light, petal scent of her perfume wafted into his nostrils as he approached, and he felt light-headed. How had he managed to get himself into a spanking situation with this demure-yet-strict young woman? He suddenly realized--to his great embarrassment--that there would be no hiding his aroused state once he was draped over her knee!
“Well, well...” Carlene took in his helpless reaction, smirked slightly, and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “It seems my naughty little pet is excited about receiving a spanking from Miss Carlene. Is that right, boy?”
Jack groaned, his face flaring like a bowl full of strawberries. He looked down at the hardwood floor of the parlor and mumbled something quite unintelligible.
Carlene took his chin in her hand and raised his gaze to meet her own. “Look me in the eye and speak clearly, young man.”
“Y-yes, Ma’am, I...I can’t help it, Ma’am.”
Carlene smiled. “No, I suppose you can’t. Very well then; kindly remove your trousers.”
The words hit him like a thunderbolt. “Ma’am?” he croaked, horrified.
“Yes?”
“R-right here?”
“Certainly. Why not?”
“It’s just that...” his eyes scanned the small sitting room with its wide French windows that threw the entire tableau open to the street. “I...um, the windows...” He gestured weakly and colored admirably; he was also utterly tongue-tied, much to the young woman’s delight. She understood--even more fully than he did himself--how much and on how many levels he needed this.
“I’d think a big strong man like you wouldn’t be ashamed to take his punishment like a man. If the neighbors happen to see, so much the better: it’s important to broadcast the fact that disciplinary matters in this house are handled swiftly and without regard for the tender sensibilities of naughty boys. Little boys who know full well that, when they choose to break the rules, they forfeit their right to privacy.”
Jack felt even more light-headed now-- almost on the verge of vertigo. Her back-and-forth references to “big strong men” and “naughty little boys” had his head spinning! Still, he was riveted to the place he stood, quite incapable of movement.
Carlene sat up straight and tapped her foot, crossing her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes. “You’re sorely trying my patience, young man. Are you going to do as you’re told, or do I need to use my heavy wooden hairbrush on that naughty bare behind of yours?”
“NO! I mean, please, no, Ma’am...I’ll...um, obey.”
Carlene relaxed and smiled. She was a cat playing with a mouse, and she had him right where she wanted him.
“Then tell me: why are your pants still on, rather than draped over that chair where they should be?”
Jack’s stomach was doing aerial maneuvers, but he realized there was no way out without appearing weak in front of Carlene. He'd fantasized about this countless times, but now that it was actually happening, a titanic inward battle was raging. Still, as dreadful as it would be to go over her lap in his underwear in front of these French windows, wimping out would be even worse. He felt cornered and to no small degree intimidated, but with one last, anxious look out the windows, he quickly divested himself of his trousers and folded them neatly over the chair opposite the duvet. He stood by Carlene’s side in as dignified a way as he could manage in just his boxers and shirt, his hands held strategically in front of his crotch. His face was blazing like a heat wave in deep summer. Carlene smiled and patted her lap.
“Over you go, little boy.”
Jack was much larger than the woman who was calling the shots; there was no way to go over her knee that didn’t feel entirely clumsy and awkward. Once in the juvenile position, he was instantly transported back in time to the occasions when he’d had to assume this awkward posture as a boy. It hadn’t been any fun then; now it was quite unnerving, yet thrilling at the same time. He hung there, his heart hammering in his chest. He felt Carlene’s hand patting his boxer shorts-covered behind and felt a thrill course through his body, starting at his erection and radiating outward in all directions.
“Let’s get this spanking started, shall we?” Carlene said sweetly.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Carlene smiled and raised her right hand high.
{End Part One}
Copyright 2013 by Aunt Carla
All rights reserved
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