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The Beginning
Timothy was sore.
At least one spanking every day for eight days will do that to you. Most days, there were more then one. Every morning, he reported to Ms. Johnson's house and was informed when Megan would arrive to deliver his daily discipline. And it seemed every day, Ms. Johnson found an excuse to get him across her knee as well. His pants were up and down more frequently than an elevator.
Today was the next-to-last day of summer. All of the preparation for the new school year was done, and the last full free days were winding down. Timothy locked his bike to the tree in the park across from Ms. Johnson's house. Megan's bike was already there, which boded poorly for Timothy's already limited ability to sit.
Sure enough, he opened the door and there were two very stern ladies waiting for him, casually sipping cups of tea.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up." Ms Johnson said wryly.
Megan stood and placed her hands on her hips. "Well. I had hoped we wouldn't have to deal with misbehavior today, but I'm certainly not surprised. Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?"
Timothy, of course, knew he wasn't actually late. He also knew that protesting wasn't going to help him stay unspanked one little bit. He shook his head meekly, and Megan wordlessly pointed to the corner. Timothy assumed his usual spot, placing his hands on his head. Megan followed him and stroked his back. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear.
"I'd almost like to let you off this time. The spanking I have planned for you tomorrow is going to be one you'll never forget. It's almost enough for me to give you a reprieve today."
Her hand smacked hard into the seat of his pants. Timothy's back arched.
"Almost. Unfortunately, a promise is a promise, and that means you get spanked every single day." She seized him by the earlobe and led him to the kitchen, where one of the chairs was waiting. "Let's get this over with, young man. If you take your spanking like a big boy, I'll just use my hand. But that doesn't mean it's not going to hurt."
She unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his underwear down to his knees in a single practiced motion. In a flash, Timothy was facedown across her knee. His spanking began immediately, Megan wasting no time bringing her palm crashing down across Timothy's still-sore bottom. She spanked briskly, peppering Timothy's bottom with quick, sharp slaps. It was far from the hardest spanking she'd ever given, but the lingering soreness from the week and a half of daily spankings made him very sensitive. He didn't cry out, but he squirmed and kicked involuntarily.
"Hold still and take your punishment, young man!" Megan scolded, pulling his waist tight with her left hand and renewing her efforts. "If you don't stop squirming, I am going to go get the hairbrush after all!"
Timothy whimpered and tried to stay still. The inability to squirm made the spanking more painful, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the first rush of tears. The only sound for the next few minutes was Megan's hand slapping down unceasingly on Timothy's bare behind.
"Ok. Up. If you behave, that's the only spanking you'll get until tomorrow." Megan said, changing her smacks to a gentle pat. Timothy rose and gingerly pulled his pants up. He winced as the waistband of his underwear rubbed past his newly reddened bottom.
"You two go enjoy the day. Tomorrow is supposed to rain, and then we're all back to school" Ms Johnson called from the other room. "I'll see you both bright and early tomorrow."
Megan and Timothy grinned at one another, the past few minutes momentarily forgotten. They went outside and followed Ms. Johnson's suggestion, wringing every last drop of enjoyment out of the end of the summer. As they kissed goodnight, before each heading home, Megan tapped Timothy on the forehead.
"Don't you forget, young man. I went easy on you today, but that's not happening tomorrow. I want you at Ms. Johnson's at 8:00 tomorrow, rain or shine. Expect to be crying by 8:05."
Timothy nodded slowly. He kissed Megan one last time, and headed home. He had been sleeping on his stomach for the last week and a half, but tonight he felt OK. He knew that he was really in for it tomorrow, but for that night, he slept like a baby.
Timothy woke up the next morning. He briefly toyed with the idea of being late on purpose, to see just how angry he could make Ms. Megan, but decided that it would be better for him to be obedient. He showered, dressed, grabbed a raincoat and headed to Ms. Johnson's, arriving a little before the appointed hour. Once again, Megan's bike was already there. He slowly made the walk of a condemned man up to the front door.
The door opened, and Megan walked him into the living room. Ms. Johnson was seated on the couch, but Timothy's eyes were immediately drawn to the coffee table. Timothy had never seen the strap before, but he could immediately tell that it was going to be very good at its job. It was about four inches wide and a foot long, made of heavy, thick leather. The business end was attached to a wooden handle. It rested on the table next to Megan's hairbrush. Timothy gulped.
Megan turned to him. "I shouldn't have to tell you that your behavior this summer has been atrocious. Ms. Johnson and I have tried very hard to keep you in line, but nothing seems to have worked. So I;m afraid we're going to have to try sterner measures. Much sterner."
Ms. Johnson stood and picked up the strap. She slapped it lightly against the side of her thigh. "Take your clothes off. Every stitch."
Timothy had, of course, known that something like this was going to happen. But the suddenness still took him off guard. He quickly came back to his senses, though, and started undressing, neatly folding his clothing and placing it on the coffee table. Soon, he was standing completely naked in front of the two very angry looking ladies. Megan broke character for a moment and smirked at his obvious excitement.
"There's no reason to delay the inevitable. Bend over the couch." Ms Johnson demanded.
Timothy turned and obeyed. He leaned over the arm of the couch so his bottom was raised. Timothy clutched desperately at the cushions and tried to brace himself. He heard Ms. Johnson moving around to stand behind him and to his left, and felt her place her hand on his back. The leather of the strap rubbed lightly across the bare skin of his bottom. Then it left.
CRACK
Timothy jolted forward in shock and pain. The strap covered almost his entire backside, and whipped around to snap agonizingly against the outside of his right cheek. It hit heavily like the bathbrush, but stung like the worst of the belt. He gritted his teeth against the sensation.
CRACK
Tears came out in a rush. Ms. Johnson was hitting him HARD, and it was all Timothy could do to remain in position. He tried to pull himself into the couch.
The strap rose and fell eight more times. Timothy was howling. He didn't know when it had started, but he wailed wordlessly and without stopping through the punishment. After the tenth stroke, he buried his face in the cushions and sobbed. The two ladies stood over him and let him weep for a moment.
"Up and to the corner, young man." Megan finally said. Timothy gingerly stood and walked to the familiar spot. "I hope you don't think that's all you're earned yourself today."
Timothy composed himself in the corner. His bottom burned and there was a deep ache that he knew would last. Megan seized his left elbow and pulled him roughly out of his daze. Wordlessly, she dragged him to the kitchen and turned him across her knee, the hairbrush held in her right hand. Timothy clutched at her ankle with both hands.
Megan looked down at Timothy. His bottom was covered with wide, scarlet splotches, and there were a few welts where the strap had wrapped around. He was breathing heavily. She raised the brush and brought it crashing down onto his already thoroughly punished bottom.
Again and again the brush fell. Timothy kicked helplessly, but Megan held him fast around the waist. She spanked him back to tears and continued well past that. She spanked without pause, making sure to cover his entire bottom with the wide back of the brush.
Finally she stopped, and rested the hand holding the brush on the small of his back. His behind was crimson, from the top of each cheek to his thighs halfway to his knees. He was crying openly, his back heaving with sobs. Megan rubbed the back of his head gently. "Back to the corner." she said, tapping the brush against his sore bottom. Timothy rose to obey. Megan followed him to the corner, and lifted his arms to place them on his head. She sat on the couch with Ms. Johnson.
"Do you think you can behave the rest of the day?" Megan asked. Timothy nodded quickly. "Good. We need to discuss how this school year is going to go."
This concludes Timothy's Summer School.
...But not the story. Next chapter coming soon.
