Timothy's Summer School, Chp 8

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Megan was coming home!

To say Timothy was happy about it was an understatement.  She was supposed to have come back today, but she and her father had taken a slight detour to visit a cousin on their way home.  She would be back late tomorrow.  Nonetheless, Timothy woke up in Ms Johnson's guest room already excited at the prospect of some actual time with his still new girlfriend.  The relationship was a few weeks old, but, because of the vacation she had to take, it still felt brand new.

He went downstairs to find some breakfast.  As usual, Ms Johnson had beaten him there. David had already left for the day earlier that morning.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!  Would you like some breakfast?"

Timothy rubbed his eyes and nodded.  He sat down at the table as Ms. Johnson busied herself with preparing breakfast.

"Are you excited about tomorrow?"  Timothy nodded again, smiling.  Ms. Johnson served breakfast, then sat down across from Timothy and placed her hands on the table.

"Now Timothy, you know I'm going to be giving Megan a lengthy report about what you've been up to, right?"  Timothy couldn't help but smile a bit, but he dutifully nodded his head and tried to look shamefaced.  "I don't think you'll find it much of a laughing matter when she gets back.  I'm going to make very sure that she has all of the tools and opportunities she needs to make sure you are one very sorry young man."

Timothy shivered a bit.  He was, of course, eager for Megan to return and do exactly what Ms. Johnson was implying, but he couldn't deny that he was nervous about it, too.

"Hopefully you can behave today, to give Megan a blank canvas to work on, so to speak."  Ms. Johnson winked broadly at Timothy and they both chuckled.

"Could you take me to the mall today?  I was hoping to get Megan a present."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea.  Finish up and get dressed.  I have an appointment to get fitted for a dress this afternoon, but I can take you there in the morning."

Timothy finished breakfast and got ready.  He and Ms. Johnson drove to the mall.

"Now, don't forget.  I will pick you up at 12:30 sharp.  I'll drop you off back at home and then go to my appointment."  Timothy nodded, checking his watch.  He had plenty of time to shop.

...But, of course, he lost track of time.  By the time he finished selecting Megan's present....a lovely chain bracelet... he was horrified to see that his watch said 12:45.  He finished buying the bracelet and immediately sprinted out to the parking lot.  There he saw Ms. Johnson's car.  He could see her angry face through the windshield.  His head slumped, and he opened the door.

"So help me, I should turn you across my knee right here and right now so everyone can see.  The only reason I'm not going to is because it would take too much time, and I'm already late."  Ms. Johnson started the car.  "Get in.  You're going to have to come with me now."

The two drove to the fitting in silence.  Ms. Johnson parked the car, and hurried Timothy into the store.

The store was a small boutique tailor.  Mirrors, mannequins, and half-finished bits of clothing were everywhere.

"Oh, hello Sarah!"  The shopkeeper was a pretty woman a few years older then Ms. Johnson.  "I'm afraid we had to move on to the next appointment."  She gestured to another woman who was draped with measurement tape and strips of cloth.  She waved to Timothy and Ms. Johnson, careful not to disturb the fittings carefully placed all over her.  She looked vaguely familiar to Timothy, but it was difficult to tell for sure with the scraps laid all over her shoulders.  "..But if you don't mind waiting a bit, we'll be finished in about a half hour."

"That would be perfect, thank you, Naomi.  I'm afraid my charge here..." she gestured at Timothy "...had a bit of a lack of responsibility that made me late."

"Oh he did, did he?"  Naomi asked, looking somewhat sternly at Timothy  "That's a real shame.  This generation seems to have a bit of a problem with that.  In my day, that would have resulted in a long trip over my knee."  She shook her head at Timothy.

Ms Johnson looked thoughtfully at Timothy.  There was a very long, silent pause.  Then she turned back to Naomi.  "I think we are of a mind on that, and it's funny you should bring it up.  Are the dressing rooms unoccupied?"

Timothy gaped.  Though he figured he certainly shouldn't be surprised at this point, the prospect of a public spanking shocked him.  "Ms. Johnson, please no!"

"Oh yes, young man. I have told you and told you that you lost all of your right to modesty. I don't see any reason to wait until we get home to get this taken care of."

Naomi looked back and forth between Ms. Johnson and Timothy.  She nodded to herself.  "As it happens, the big dressing room is empty, and I won't be needing it at all.  You can feel free to take him back there."

Ms. Johnson took Timothy by the arm.  Then she stopped.  "Naomi, if you don't mind one more favor...."

"Of course, Sarah.  What can I do to help?"

"Might you have a hairbrush I can borrow?"

Naomi smiled widely.  "Of course.  I have just the thing."  The woman being fitted could barely hide her amusement as Naomi reached under a counter and pulled out a broad-backed wooden hairbrush.  Timothy stared wide eyed at it.

It was different from the one Ms. Johnson had presented to Megan, but just as scary when you knew it's intended use.  The business end was a shorter, but wider oval than the other one.  It obviously was used regularly in the course of the shop's business, as Naomi plucked a few stray hairs out of the bristles before handing it to Ms. Johnson.

"Not that I expect you'll be too concerned about that side" Naomi chuckled, shrugging.

Ms. Johnson took the brush and hefted it in her hand.  She gave Timothy a tightlipped smile and resumed their walk to the dressing rooms.  Timothy , resigned to his fate, hung his head both in shame and in an attempt to prevent Naomi and her customer from getting a good look at his face.

Ms. Johnson pushed Timothy into the room and pulled the curtain shut behind him.  The room had a mirror covering the entirety of wall on Timothy's right.  A chair was conveniently pushed against the back wall.  Ms. Johnson promptly sat down facing Timothy and placed the brush on the floor at her left side.

"Well, young man.  You certainly know the drill by this point.  Hands on your head."  Timothy stepped in front of Ms. Johnson and complied, the beginnings of tears already forming in his eyes.  Ms. Johnson's hands went to the button of his shorts, and swiftly they and his underpants were around his ankles.  She dragged him shuffling around to her right side, and then tipped him roughly across her knee.  He looked up to see his own face reflected back in the mirror.

"We have a half hour before Naomi is ready for me.  No time to waste."  And the spanking started.  Ms Johnson's hand smacked down onto Timothy's bare bottom hard and fast.  Timothy scraped his hands along the rough carpet of the dressing room floor, trying very hard to keep himself from crying out.  He fruitlessly hoped that the thin curtain somehow kept the noise of the spanking from making its way into the main shop floor.

"For a well behaved young man, you certainly seem to end up here quite often.  I told you I was going to be more strict with you, and I will keep that promise."  She renewed her efforts, spanking Timothy's bottom with heavy, full armed slaps.  Timothy's legs kicked, though he was still making a serious effort to keep from crying loudly. He looked up at his face in the mirror and could see the tears flowing down his cheeks to drip off his chin.  The spanking went on and on.  Ms. Johnson seemed determined to fill up the entire half hour.  Timothy's legs were kicking and his shorts were dangling off of one ankle.

Finally, she stopped.  Timothy, unfortunately, knew perfectly well what was coming next.

"Hand me the brush."

Timothy reached down and picked up the hairbrush.  As he feared, it was quite heavy and dense.  He reached back and handed it to Ms. Johnson's waiting hand, and felt her place the back against his bottom.  It felt cool on his punished cheeks, though he knew that certainly wouldn't last.  He screwed up his face in anticipation of what was to come.

"I had sincerely hoped we could go today without a spanking.  Now, not only am I going to make very sure your bottom is still sore when Megan arrives, but I am also going to tell her exactly why.  I expect you'll be getting a repeat performance from her tomorrow night, and it's no more than you deserve."

With that, Ms. Johnson lifted the hairbrush high and brought it down, very hard, across the middle of Timothy's bottom.  Without waiting for his reaction, she brought it crashing down another three times.  Timothy's legs kicked furiously and he drummed the floor with his fists.  The two were locked in an unspoken battle of wills.  Timothy was determined not to cry out, but Ms. Johnson seemed equally determined to make sure that he did.  She did not pause at all, but continued the punishment without saying a word.

Finally, Timothy broke.  A loud, wordless sob escaped, and that started the floodgates.  He cried out in pain, no longer caring who knew how soundly he was being spanked.  Apologies and promises to be good fell on deaf ears, as Ms. Johnson continued to spank him severely.

"Too late for that, young man.  You know perfectly well that you've earned this spanking, and many more to come."  Timothy's sobs almost drowned out the loud reports of the hairbrush on his bottom.  Finally, Ms. Johnson stopped.

"Now, I want you to face the corner and wait for me to finish my appointment.  If you move a muscle, I will make that spanking seem like a pleasant memory, do you understand me?"

Timothy nodded, still sobbing loudly.  Ms. Johnson let him stand and face the back corner of the dressing room.  The mirrored wall was on his right.  Ms. Johnson stood and walked out of the dressing room, pulling the curtain behind her.

"Well, Sarah, that certainly sounded like a thorough lesson in responsibility!"  Came a voice from the other room.  Some laughter and small talk followed.  Timothy took this time to lean to his right a bit and look at his bottom in the mirror.  It was a mess.  Angry red blotches covered him from his waist to the tops of his thighs.  He rubbed his bottom ruefully.  There was no way it would return to its normal color before Megan returned.  Though, he thought to himself, it seemed that this WAS the normal color for his bottom lately.

One of the voices from the other room called out "Thank you, Naomi.  I'll be heading out now.  Sarah, please give Timothy my best wishes for a rapid recovery."

Timothy could not recall Ms. Johnson ever using his name.

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