Timothy was enjoying summer break. He had a lot of freedom, and a bike to explore with. There was very little else he needed for a good break, but he it just so happened that he did have one other thing...
He thought about the meeting with Ms. Johnson every day. They had met again on the last day of school, where she asked him again if he wanted to repeat the experience. When he responded (enthusiastically) that he did, she handed him a slip of paper with her address. She then told him that she was going out of town for a few weeks, but as soon as she returned, they would meet to discuss how his behavior had been. She said this last part with a meaningful look that sent a pleasurable shiver down Timothy's spine.
The slip had become Timothy's most prized possession, The address on the slip was not in his neighborhood, but it was very close. He biked by her house every couple days just to check if she had returned. By this point, it had just become part of his regular route. On this day, he quickly passed the house, noted the empty driveway, and headed home.
As he turned into his neighborhood, he passed a classmate, on her red bike headed the opposite way. Megan was a pretty blond, slightly taller than Timothy. They had been friends since their early childhood. Their parents often joked that they would end up married, but they'd never done anything romantic together.
"You'v got a visitor!" Megan sing-songed teasingly at him as she turned out of the neighborhood at high speed.
Timothy looked over his shoulder at her, slightly confused. Then he turned the corner and his house came into view. Parked in front of the house was an unfamiliar car.
Timothy parked his bike, wiped some sweat off his forehead, and walked in through his front door. As soon as he stepped inside, he froze. Seated in the family room, sipping iced tea, were his parents... and Ms. Johnson. She was dressed casually, in summer shorts with a wide leather belt and a partially tucked in shirt. She looked up as he entered, an amused expression on her face.
"Hello, Timothy. I was just discussing our plans for the summer with your parents."
Timothy's jaw almost hit the floor.
"Yes, Timothy", his mother said. "Ms. Johnson was just telling us how you had discussed having her tutor you to get you ready for next year. She's taken quite a shine to you. And that shows great initiative on your part, Timothy."
Timothy looked back and forth between Ms. Johnson and his mother. He wasn't quite sure what to say.
"Now that I'm back in town, we had thought maybe weekly sessions would work. What do you think?" Ms. Johnson took a sip of her iced tea, very clearly amused at Timothy's concern.
"Weekly? Um...yes. Yes! I think a weekly session would be perfect. Thank you, Ms. Johnson."
"Great! Why don't you go get cleaned up, and you can head out" his mother said.
"Wait...what?"
"Go take a shower. You're all sweaty from the bike ride. When you come down, Ms. Johnson can take you for your first session."
"Right now?" Timothy was in a near panic.
"No time like the present. I'll drive you over." Ms. Johnson said, a chuckle evident in her voice. "That way you won't have to sit on that bike all the way home" She caught his eye meaningfully.
"O...Ok." Timothy walked upstairs in a daze. He went into the bathroom and stripped down. He could hear his parents and Ms. Johnson continuing to talk downstairs. As the shower ran over his head, the excitement of the situation suddenly washed over him. He finished quickly and almost ran to his room, where he put on clean clothing. He dashed downstairs, where Ms. Johnson was waiting for him.
They walked out of the door, Ms. Johnson promising to return him in a few hours. She opened the passenger side car door for him and then got in herself. She started the car, and then turned to him.
"We both know what's going to happen when I get you home, correct?"
"Yes, Ms. Johnson."
"And what is that?"
Timothy shyly looked down at his hands. Even though they both knew each other's secret, he could still barely bring himself to say the words.
"...You're going to give me a spanking." He whispered.
"That's exactly right. And it's going to be a good one, too. As soon as we get there, I want you to go right upstairs and go to the first bedroom on the left. You've already lost your right to modesty, so remove your pants and put your nose in the corner. I will be up to deal with you shortly."
A shiver went up Timothy's back.
Ms. Johnson pulled the car away from the curb "You and I are going to have a very, very thorough discussion today, which I hope will set the proper tone for this summer."
The ride went very quickly. Ms. Johnson pulled into the familiar driveway and stopped the car. She looked meaningfully at Timothy.
"The door is unlocked. I've told you what do do. I expect to be obeyed promptly."
"Yes, Ms. Johnson." Timothy quickly got up and walked into the unfamiliar house. He followed her directions and went right upstairs and turned into the bedroom. At the foot of the bed was a chair with a low, straight back.
And resting on the chair was a blue ping-pong paddle.
Timothy took off his shoes, then he removed his pants and underwear and folded them neatly on the bed. Clad only in socks and a t-shirt, he took a deep breath and turned to face the corner. Embarrassment and excitement competed for attention in his head as he waited for Ms. Johnson.
With his nose in the corner, unable to see anything except bare wall, all of his other senses seemed heightened. He could feel the coolness in the air, especially on his lower half. He could hear the creaks of the house, and the front door of the house closing and locking as Ms. Johnson entered. He listened very carefully and, after what seemed like hours, he could hear her footsteps on the stairs.
Ms. Johnson walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She saw Timothy had obeyed her instructions to the letter, and smiled. She had been looking forward to this since their first session had awakened a latent need in her mind.
Timothy heard her enter and walk across the room. He heard the subtle sound of wood sliding on wood as she picked up the paddle. Then he heard her voice.
"Turn around, young man"
Timothy slowly turned. Ms. Johnson was seated in the chair, the blue paddle held low in her right hand.
"Over my knee. Right now."
Timothy walked towards her and laid himself across her lap. She used her left hand to brush the back of his t-shirt away from the target. She raised her arm and brought the paddle down, hard, across his bottom.
SMACK!
 |
| I know it's not a chair. I can't draw. |
Again and again she slapped the paddle down. The thin paddle moved rapidly. Each smack hurt less than an individual smack from the hairbrush, but the head of the paddle was so wide that every stroke overlapped the last. There was no relief for Timothy between strokes, and he very quickly found himself shifting and struggling on her lap to avoid the paddle.
"OW! I'll be a good boy, Ms. Johnson! I promise!"
This had come out involuntarily. Ms. Johnson smiled as she, too got into the mindset.
"You had your chance to be good, young man. You've earned yourself a good, hard paddling, and that's exactly what you're going to get!" Ms. Johnson renewed her efforts, turning his bottom an even shade of red. The paddle didn't have quite the intensity of the hairbrush, so Ms. Johnson felt she was able to go on for much longer than their first time in the classroom. She continued paddling him, interrupting the smacks with occasional scolding words.
"You know you deserve this. I am going to spank you every week this summer, and you have earned every single one, isn't that right?"
Timothy's mind was very much that of a naughty, punished boy at this point. Tears came freely and he sobbed his response. "Yes Ms. Johnson. I've been ba-ha-haad!"
"You most certainly have. And this is exactly what bad boys get."
The paddle continued its work. Timothy's bottom was crimson, and there was a pool of tears on the floor where his head hung down. Finally, Ms. Johnson stopped.
"Do you think you can behave yourself?" She asked.
Timothy could barely catch his breath. "...Yes. Yes, I'll be good."
"Good. Stand up and go back to the corner. Pull your shirt up in the back.
Timothy obeyed, and Ms. Johnson surveyed her handiwork. With the t-shirt pulled up to the small of his back, she could see that she'd been very thorough. His bottom, from the crest to the tops of his legs, was an even, angry shade of red.
She stood up and walked over to him. She could see his shoulders heaving with his breath. She reached out and could feel the heat radiating from his backside.
"Was that ok?" She asked.
Timothy swallowed and brought himself back to reality "Yes Ms. Johnson. That was perfect. Thank you."
"Good. I have quite a few ideas for this summer. Get yourself together and come downstairs so we can discuss them.
I'll put a pillow on a chair for you."
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