Jack's First Adult Spanking

Part Two

[Our story began here: http://auntcarlascorner.blogspot.com/2013/03/jacks-first-adult-spanking.html]

Image from linashouseofspanking.com

“OW!”

Jack arched his back and felt his whole body stiffen at the first smack to his behind. Carlene had brought her hand down on his boxer-shorts-covered bottom with all her strength, and the sting was an awesome eye-opener!

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” Carlene said witheringly. “Such squawking from a big strong man over a little hand-spank from a lady? I haven’t even bared your naughty little bottom yet!”

Jack’s face flared even brighter at the commentary. What had he gotten himself into?

Carlene rained a volley of smacks all over his behind-- not as hard as the initial spank, but delivering bracing pain nonetheless. It had been decades since Jack had felt the singular sting of a spanking; now he remembered why he’d so dreaded them as a child!

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Oh...OW!”

“My goodness, what fuss!”

The heat in all four of Jack’s cheeks steadily grew. He found himself wondering if the neighbors were being drawn by the sounds of the slaps and the loud responsive vocalizations over which he seemed to have zero control. He felt thoroughly embarrassed as he imagined them all looking and watching with grins on their faces as their middle-aged neighbor bounced and squawked over the knee of a woman young enough to be his daughter. In particular, he thought of Anna, the cute twenty-year-old brunette who lived in the house directly opposite his. She often had her girlfriends over on Saturdays; surely they were all watching and cracking up at the sight! How would he be able to face her--or any of his other neighbors--after this humiliating display? Even as he thought this, however, he felt an overwhelming sexual thrill, the likes of which he’d never experienced before.

“Well! I do believe it’s time to take these down,” observed his young, determined disciplinarian.

“NO!” he shouted involuntarily.

“No?” Carlene said, amusement evident in her voice. “Did you think they were staying up? I assure you, young man, you couldn’t be more mistaken!”

Jack’s stomach flipped over to a degree he hadn’t experienced since the last time he rode a roller coaster. She was really going to pull down his boxers, right here in front of the bay windows, giving the neighbors a hugely entertaining show! He thought he’d already blushed as much as was physically possible, but his face somehow managed to prove him wrong.

“Aww...Is the naughty little boy embarrassed?”

“Oh, please!”

Carlene laughed as she took the waistband of his shorts in both hands. Jack felt his right hand reach back involuntarily to stop her.

“I’d move that hand if I were you.” The young woman’s tone changed from teasing to deadly serious in an instant. “Otherwise, my hairbrush is definitely going to be putting in an appearance this afternoon.”

Jack pulled his hand away, kicking in frustration and extreme mortification. In his imagination, every one of his neighbors now had their eyes trained on him. His mind’s eye displayed a picture of Anna and her friends high-fiving each other at the unusually entertaining sight. Each of them would have their camera phones out, snapping picture after picture of his embarrassing plight. Soon the pictures would find their way onto countless Facebook pages. Friends and family alike would tease him about it endlessly. Even the young women at work would hide grins behind their hands and whisper amongst themselves as he walked by. He desperately wanted to look up and out the large window so close by, but he was terrified that his eyes would confirm his imagination.

“Now,” said Carlene with undisguised relish, “let’s have these down, shall we?”

And with that, she swept Jack’s  boxer shorts down to mid-thigh in one deft motion.

The exquisite sense of humiliation that pervaded Jack’s mind and body at that moment could hardly be expressed. His rear end was sticking up in the young woman’s face, bare as an egg but, no doubt, considerably less white. His face burned, and then Carlene made it even worse.

“Oh my, would you look at this hot pink behind!”

He squirmed as the young beauty felt his two glutes with both hands. “And quite warm already. But it needs to be hot enough to fry an egg on, of course.” Jack groaned.

SMACK !

“OWWW!!!”

Jack couldn’t believe the difference the removal of that thin layer of cotton made. It stung twice as badly, and his disciplinarian seemed to be a long way from running out of steam. She spanked even harder; he bucked and squalled. She aimed for his super-sensitive sit-spot; he kicked and pounded madly. Soon the potential of a neighborhood audience was driven from his mind; nothing mattered but putting out the fire in his butt. He reached back to block the onslaught. A crucial error.

“What did I tell you about that hand, mister?”

“SORRY! Please!! No MORE!!”

“Oh, a good deal more, I think. I keep my promises, little boy.” Carlene reached down into her purse, pulled out the heavy wooden hairbrush, and secured his right hand in her left, pinning it to his back. She may have been short and small, but she was remarkably strong.

“You get to feel the sting of Miss Carlene’s hairbrush after all.”

“NOOOO!!!!!” Jack kicked with all the frantic desperation of a well-punished schoolboy. His butt was already on fire; how could it absorb more spanks-- with a hairbrush?!

WHACK! WHACK WHACK! WHACK!

Jack keening went up an octave and doubled in volume. As Carlene expertly wielded her heavy brush all over his well-punished backside, the pain became unreal. He became hoarse from yelling; his face was soon a mess of tears. He kicked wildly, and perspiration from his workout plastered his hair to his head.

When he finally stopped struggling, when he became too tired to kick or pound his fists in the air, when his cries had devolved into unintelligible moans-- only then did Carlene slow down and finally stop. Her own brow was lined with perspiration from her exertions; she dropped the brush into her purse and evaluated her work. The man’s entire backside, down to the tops of his thighs, was a bright, shining red. She could literally feel heat coming off the roasted flesh in waves. Jack was sobbing, hanging like a wrung-out rag over her lap, the terrible burning in his rear end consuming all his attention.

She held him over her lap for several minutes, rocking him gently as he cried himself out.

“Someone got his bottom well and truly toasted today, right, little boy?” she said, not unkindly.

“Y-yes, M-Miss Carlene.”

“Are you going to behave so Miss Carlene doesn’t have to spank your naughty behind again?”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am!”

Carlene chuckled to herself. Grown up boys being boys, she wondered how soon after he was able to sit comfortably again that heartfelt vow would be forgotten.

“Do you need to visit the little boys’ room before you start your corner time?”

Jack nodded.

“Okay, then, up you get.”

She patted his oh-so-sore backside, causing him to wince. He clumsily regained the vertical, and his hands shot back to his outraged buns, which he rubbed while wincing and hopping from foot to foot. Carlene smiled at his obliviousness to the show he was putting on-- when they forgot that they were naked in front of her and three bay windows, there could be no doubt she’d done a thorough job!

“Okay, mister, march that little fried hiney to the boys’ room.”

He became suddenly aware of his nudity as she knew he would; the frantic look out the windows for witnesses and the instant movement of the hands from the rear to the front was comical. His face turned several deeper shades of red as he trotted off as fast as the boxer shorts around his ankles would allow him.

Chuckling, Carlene stood and stretched. She sat back down on the settee, tucking her feet underneath her and taking a long swallow from her water bottle. She pulled her phone out of her bag and checked her email. Soon Jack came creeping back into

the parlor, obviously very conscious now of his state of dress. Carelene beckoned him with her index finger.

She eyed the deeply blushing man standing before her with his hands held low.

“So, have we learned our lesson here today, young man?”

“Yes, Miss Carlene,” said the thoroughly chastened man quietly, his face aflame and his eyes on the floor.

“Good. Now, you’re on restriction for a full week. No release until next Saturday night. I’ll be calling periodically to check in on you. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” A whole week? He was so ready to pop right now...how could he possibly make it?

“For your bottom’s sake, I hope you do. Keep in mind, that hairbrush you felt today isn’t my only implement; if you slip up, I’ll be wearing out your backside with the complete set. You’ll be conducting your business meetings standing up for a week.”

Oh, that was how he could make it. The thought of his bottom being any sorer than it was just then was a huge motivator. “You don’t...I won’t...Um, I’ll be good.”

“Excellent. Alright young man, see that corner over there? I want you to put your nose right up against it, put your hands on your head, and don’t move until I call you in an hour. No rubbing. I’ll let myself out.”

“Yes, Ma’am, thank you, Ma’am.”

“You’re quite welcome. Off you go, now.” Carlene watched the man forlornly shuffle to the corner, place his hands on his head, and stand stock-still. She had done an exceptionally thorough job on him; his backside was positively blazing. She was sure he would have given just about anything to rub, but she doubted he would. She stood, slipped into her sandals, and walked out into the sunshine, locking the door behind her. She walked past the bay windows to make sure the man was visible and in the proper posture. Satisfied, she walked to her car with a spring in her step. She loved her work.

[END]

Copyright Ⓒ 2013 by Aunt Carla

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