Timothy's Summer School, chp 2

The Beginning

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End of June

"You are a very naughty, careless boy, and I am going to spank you until you can't sit down for a week!"

Ms. Johnson yanked the struggling Timothy across her lap and pulled his pants down to his ankles.  She wrapped her left arm around his waist and brought the paddle down hard across his bare bottom as she scolded him.  There was no warmup at all, and she started the spanking at a furious pace.

The two were playing a game they had discussed the prior week.  They were both very interested in the mindset they had found during their last meeting, and wanted to experience it again.  To that end, Timothy had asked for a "real punishment", and the two had come up with a scenario.  Timothy had been looking forward to it all week.  Finally, the day of Timothy's next lesson came.  It was a cool summer day, and Timothy biked over to her house.  He knocked on the door, and Ms. Johnson let him in.

"Hello Timothy.  I have prepared your lesson.  Would you like a glass of juice?"  Timothy nodded.  Ms. Johnson went to the kitchen and poured a drink for him.  "Please be careful of the carpet".

The two of them sat down together on the couch in Ms. Johnson's living room, ostensibly for Ms. Johnson to begin their tutoring session.  The ping pong paddle was located conveniently within arm's reach.  After a few minutes, Timothy had "accidentally" knocked the glass onto the floor, spilling the juice all over the carpet.  Ms. Johnson responded immediately with mock, but quite realistic, fury, and Timothy's quickly bared bottom was soon paying a steep price.

"I have warned you and warned you to be careful.  It seems like the only thing you understand is a sore bottom!"  The paddling continued without any pause.  Timothy thought that this was, by far, the hardest she had spanked him.  In a very short time his eyes were filled with tears, and his legs were kicking furiously.  Suddenly, there was a loud SNAP and the spanking stopped.

Timothy looked back over his shoulder, confused. He looked up at Ms Johnson's shocked face. She  was holding the handle of the ping pong paddle in her right hand.  The business end had snapped off, and flown clear across the room.  Ms. Johnson recovered her composure quickly, and looked down at Timothy.

"Well, young man.  You were so naughty that I actually broke the paddle on your backside.  It seems you have an assignment before our next meeting.  My good wooden hairbrush is still in the classroom at school, and obviously I need something to keep you in line.  I will expect you to report next time with an appropriately severe replacement."

"Yes, Ms. Johnson," sniffled Timothy, simultaneously relieved and disappointed at the turn of events.

"That said, there is still the matter of today's carelessness to deal with.  I promised you a very sore bottom, and I intend to keep my promise.  Stand up."

Timothy quickly obeyed.  Ms. Johnson stood and seized his upper arm, leading him around to the side of the sofa.  Because his pants were still around his ankles, he had to shuffle quickly to follow her.  "Bend over".

Once again, Timothy complied, Ms. Johnson adjusting him so that his upper body was resting on the cushions, and his bare bottom was raised over the rounded arm of the sofa.  His toes barely grazed the floor.

"Imagine being so naughty that one paddle isn't enough.  Well, young man, I think this is going to turn into a memorable day for you."

Timothy heard a metallic jingling, and then a sliding sound.  Ms Johnson had unbuckled and pulled her wide leather belt free from its belt loops.  She folded it in half and raised it high.

"I will teach you to behave if I have to wear out every paddle..."

CRACK

"...hairbrush...."

CRACK

"...Wooden spoon..."

CRACK

"...and spatula in the STATE!"

CRACK

"And I will certainly wear out this naughty bottom of yours!"

CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK

Ms. Johnson renewed the furious pace she had started with the paddle.  Timothy was really suffering, his hands balling into fists in the cloth of the couch.  Each stroke of the belt felt like a line of fire being drawn across his bottom. He quickly kicked his pants and underwear completely off, and his feet drummed a desperate beat against the floor.  Ms. Johnson placed her left hand firmly on the small of his back and continued to thrash his bottom with the folded belt.

Timothy was openly crying now, his tears and screams both being absorbed by the couch cushions.  His fingers found the edge of one cushion and pulled him forward.  He arched his back and wailed.

"OWWWWWW!  I'll be a good boy!"

"You had better be.  Otherwise, you are going to have the sorest bottom in history."  Ms. Johnson did not let up at all.  The belt cracked down, painting angry red stripes across Timothy's bottom.  He continued to cry out wordlessly, as tears streamed down his face.  Finally, the punishment stopped, and Timothy heard the belt being thrown onto the couch past his head.  Timothy felt Ms. Johnson's hand stroking his welted bottom.

"Well, young man.  That belt certainly did a number on you."

Timothy was slowly coming back to reality.  He turned his head so that his cheek rested on the cushion, which was very damp from his tears.

"Yes Ms. Johnson.  I know I deserved it."

"You certainly did" Ms. Johnson purred.  "Just look at what you did to my carpet.  I am definitely going to need to be more strict with you in the future."

"Yes ma'am."  Timothy breathed.

"I meant what I said." she said, walking past him and picking up the belt.  "I expect you to bring me something to discipline you with.  Something I can use on you over my knee."

Timothy nodded.  The couch was cool against his face.

"And you had better make sure it is something appropriate, young man.  Otherwise..." She snapped the belt loudly.

Timothy gasped.  He nodded quickly.

"That said, now that you've made your acquaintance with my belt, I am quite sure it will make another appearance.  Take a minute and get yourself together.  Then you can get dressed.  I can't say I envy your bike ride home."  Ms. Johnson gently stroked his bottom, then patted it affectionately.

Timothy took more than a minute to completely recompose himself.  He located his pants and underwear where he had kicked them across the floor, and carefully pulled them over his smarting backside.  He hugged Ms. Johnson and walked out the door to his bike.  Ms Johnson cleaned up the juice and went upstairs to consider the day's events.

Somehow, neither of them noticed that the window in the next room had been wide open.  Similarly, as Timothy walked out, he completely missed the red bike leaning against a nearby tree.

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