"This would be your room if you decide to stay of course." she smiled, opening the door and guiding me in ahead of her. I returned her smile and entered.

My first view of the room where I was to spend the next nine months until the end of my College semester, was impressive. It was big, bright and south facing with a fine view of the harbour. The decoration was tastefully done in pastel colours and the room was furnished with all the necessary comforts. It also had one of the biggest beds I had ever seen in my life. It was easily the best accommodation I had viewed all that long day. I was delighted and without hesitation agreed to take it right away.
Aunt Pamela (for that is what she had peculiarly asked me to call her) beamed happily and wrapped her arms round me in a tight and smothering embrace.

In her early forties Aunt Pamela was a tall, well-built woman with shoulder length dark brown hair. She had that warm "motherly" manner that immediately made you feel at ease. However, as I carefully disentangled myself from her large bosom, I was a little surprised by this sudden burst of affection from a lady I had only met some thirty minutes earlier.

"I'm so pleased you want to stay Peter. You seem to be a very nice boy and I'm sure that we're going to get along famously"
I smiled and, slightly flushed, said that I was sure we would.

I'm originally from Philadelphia, but when presented with a number of possible College options, had no hesitation in heading for the west coast and the relaxed promise of San Francisco. Admittedly not the most gifted or self motivated of students, I nevertheless managed to achieve very creditable results. This was mainly attributable to the efforts of my tutors and a Mother who took her parental duties very seriously. Mom was a firm believer that education was the key to personal happiness. It freed you of necessity and gave you choice she would say. Whilst dad was always supportive, it was mom who sat with me for hours patiently trying to explain the principles of algebra and the finer points of grammar!

She never let up. She never gave up on me, not even when my behaviour gave her more than enough reason to. She was and still is a very intelligent lady. Reason was her main weapon and she could usually talk me round to her way of thinking. When that failed, however, her other weapon was her hand. More specifically, her hand applied vigorously to my, sometimes bare, bottom. They say that the pen is mightier than the sword. They should have added that a mom's hand gets to the point quicker!

To say that I was spanked a lot would be untrue, but I did occasionally find myself face down over a maternal lap when I pushed my mothers legendary patience a little too far. Whilst it didn't happen too often, when it did mom made sure that I remembered it! Afterwards, I would stand wailing in the corner rubbing a blazing hot bottom until she would call me over for her forgiving hug and post spanking explanation. It usually cured me of whatever I did and shouldn't have! Of course, all that was some years ago now and at the grand old age of twenty, I was the master of my own destiny. Well, I thought so anyway. I moved into number one Heights Walk the following day. I was glad to be out of the Hostel and into the spacious rooms of Aunt Pamela's.

"I like my boys and girls to feel that they're at home, or at least with a caring relative", she explained as we sat with a coffee in the kitchen. "That's why I usually only have one student staying with me. One naughty boy or girl at a time is quite enough for any Auntie to handle don't you think?" she teased with a twinkle in her eye. "Although there was the Carter girls. Twins they were. Couldn't stand being separated. They told me they even took their spankings together when they young!" she recalled shaking her head and chuckling. "Now there was as naughty a pair of girls that have ever stayed here. I used to scold 'em but they'd just laugh at me. So, I had a little word with their Mother. She was appalled and said that they deserved to have their bottoms smacked hard, and it was a pity that she wasn't there to do it!" she stated with obvious approval. I could feel my face start to colour as I shuffled uncomfortably in the seat.

"Well", she continued. "Knowing that it would be a few weeks before Mrs Carter would be visiting the girls again, and seeing as we obviously shared similar views on traditional discipline, I suggested another option. So that night at bedtime, and with their mom's blessing, the girls and me had a little old fashioned "talk," if you know what I mean!" she finished with some satisfaction.

At this point I started to blush as I think I understood what she meant. Visions of the Carter twin's bottoms being spanked at the same time over Aunt Pamela's lap, filled my mind.

"Of course, I can tell that you're a good boy and not at all like those little minxes. I'm sure that Auntie wont have to be strict with you will she?" she laughed with a wink. I nodded a little dumbly and blushed heavily.

We finished our drinks and Aunt Pamela helped me unpack the boxes piled up in my room. She was very organised and immediately took charge of arranging things. No doubt she had done this sort of thing a number of times before. So I let her. I hated detail, still do, whereas Aunt Pamela seemed to have a flair for it. She whirled around issuing orders, piling clothes in my arms and dispatching me in the right direction with a command and a gentle swat to my behind.

"In the wardrobe, third shelf. NO! NO! THIRD SHELF! Oh dear me, must I come over there and do it myself young man?" Perhaps she should have. She was much better at it than me. Thoroughly bored, I took advantage of a lull as she rummaged through one of my boxes to test out the wonderfully massive and inviting bed. I settled myself and relaxed. Aunt Pamela looked up.

"Comfy?" she enquired gently.

"Yes Aunt Pamela." I replied grinning cheekily at her from my prone position.

"I'm so pleased. Now get your little rear over here! I have some more things for you to put away."

"Must I?" I whined. "I'm tired. Can't it wait?" Being organised was too much like hard work. Not something I was very fond of.

"No Peter, it can not wait. I hope that you're going to show a little more application at College or you won't get very far", she chided, rising from the floor. "Now get over here and take these clothes from me or Auntie will be very unhappy", she scolded. "And you wouldn't want that now would you? The Carter twins made that mistake and sure regretted it."

I grunted in a dismissive fashion and made no attempt to move. What did I care about the Carter twins. We stared at each other for a few seconds. She with a maternal foot tapping "I'm waiting" expression and me with a defiant "you can't make me" response.

"Very well", she ended the stand off. "You asked for this. I think you need your bottom smacked young man!" she announced with a wag of her finger. I laughed again, but this time a little nervously. She wouldn't would she?

Moving swiftly, she yanked me off the bed and before I knew it I was over her knee. I tried to wriggle free, but this was a strong woman who was both taller and heavier than I. In a second, she had taken a firm grip of my waist, lifted her knees slightly and tipped me completely off balance. She had obviously done this sort of thing before and not just to the Carter twins! I dangled over her lap bottom up and legs waving through the air, feeling as helpless as a small boy over his mommies knee!

"LET ME GO!" I demanded struggling in a futile gesture to escape.

"Oh no my lad", she laughed with little humour. "Not until I teach you some manners across your naughty little bottom. You will learn NOT to ignore Auntie when she quite reasonably asks you to do something." So saying, she tipped my nose further toward the carpet and raised my bottom to meet her hand.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "OOOO! YEEEOWWW! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "STOP IT! STOP IT!"

And what a hand! It was big and she applied it hard and deliberately across the bouncing seat of my tight cotton sports shorts.

"When Auntie (smack) asks you (smack) to do something (smack) you do it! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"YEEESSSSS! EEEEOOOOWWW!" I wailed as she really began to warm my rear.

"Yes what? SMACK! SMACK!

"YES AUNTIE!" SMACK! SMACK! "OWWWWOOOO!"

"That's better Peter", SMACK! "But just to be sure that you truly understand that Auntie will not tolerate naughty boys with a sassy attitude" And with those words she pulled my shorts down.

"NOOOOO! DON'T! STOP IT! HELPPPPP!" I howled in horror as I felt her deposit them somewhere around my knees! My bottom and it's inadequate covering of a pair of thin white cotton briefs was at her mercy. She wasn't about to show any.

"No one is going to help you young man. You're not getting off Auntie's lap until you get the spanking you deserve!" I then felt her pull my briefs up as high as possible leaving a large area of my bottom bare and ready for the stern attention of her hand.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "AHHHH! OWWW!"
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "IT HURTS! OOHH!"

"I hope so (slap). Maybe (slap) a sore bottom (slap) will teach you (slap) a few manners (slap) and help you (slap) to be a good boy (slap)."

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "EEEEAAAAA! WAAAAAAOOO!"

I'd forgotten how much a well smacked bottom hurts. I hadn't had a spanking like that for years and it wasn't a pleasant re-union! She slapped so hard that I thought I would shoot off her knee every time that big hand smacked loudly down on my buns! But she held on tightly and that escape from her stinging punishment was denied me.

As I lay there, feeling her hand whack my behind with as much vigour as the very first spank, I gave up struggling. To my surprise, I suddenly felt tears welling up in my eyes. It was probably a mixture of embarrassment and frustration as much as pain in my rear, but I didn't bother analysing it too much. I simply lay there and bawled my way through the rest of Aunt Pamela's old-fashioned cure.

"Well, well", she scolded. "Like all (slap) bad little boys and girls (slap) with smart mouths (slap) we're not so big and clever (slap) when we're over Aunt Pamela's knee (slap) crying because we're having our bottom smacked (slap) are we (slap)?"

"WOOOOO! AHHHHHH! WAAAAAA!" I replied eloquently.

"I'll take that as a yes." SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

"Now, what's that special word that will please Auntie and let her know that you have learned your lesson?" That I knew after spending some time over my mom's knee.

"BWAAAAA! I'M SORRY, I'M SO SORRYYY! I'LL BE GOOD!"

"Your mommy has taught you well (slap) Good boy (slap). I shall have to telephone and compliment her (slap), although (slap) I think she will be a little upset with you (slap) when she hears how you have behaved."

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "WAAAAOOOOOO!" I howled as she laid on the last stinging spanks before lifting me by the ear and marching me into the corner, swatting my rear as we went.

"Now you stay there and think on your behaviour whilst I finish sorting your things. Don't move and don't let me hear a word out of you young man!" SMACK!

She left me there for nearly half an hour. I stood with my nose to the wall and my hands desperately trying to soothe the burning in my bottom cheeks. I then made the mistake of glancing round to where she sat, still sorting through my things.

"What did I tell you Peter?"

That little mistake earned me yet more sharp smacks to my poor hot behind. "Nose to the wall! When I say don't move, I mean (smack) you (smack) do (smack) not (smack) move (smack). Understand (smack)?"

"YEEESSSSS AUNTIE! OWWWWWW!"

I didn't move an inch after that. I just stood there and wondered why I was standing there. I could make a run for it and not stop until I hit Philadelphia! But I didn't because well, just because. Oh you fill in the blanks, I don't know.

"Now Peter, have we learned our lesson?" she questioned gently behind me.

"Yes Aunt Pamela, I have."

"I'm very pleased to hear it. You're forgiven. Now, you pull up your pants and when you're ready come downstairs to the kitchen. I think we could both do with a nice glass of milk and some cake don't you?"

I turned to look at her and managed a smile. She returned it and repeated her earlier embrace. This time I didn't hurry to free myself. She laughed lightly and ruffled my hair.

"You feel better now don't you Peter? I nodded into her bosom. "Much better, now that you know that someone is here to keep an eye on you, talk to you, encourage you to work hard at College and give you a good spanking if you don't!" It was true. I did feel much better and oddly protected by this firm but caring woman. "Now! Off you go to the bathroom and wash your face and hands and I'll see you in the kitchen in five minutes. Scoot!" she laughed with a gentle slap to my bottom as I struggled to pull up my shorts.

I settled in at Aunt Pamela's very quickly after that and made good progress at College. It was hard work but my caring landlady proved to be a well read, intelligent and articulate help in my studies. She backed this up with a couple of sound spankings to my bare bottom when my concentration began to drift a little! I wrote to and got replies from mom who was encouraging about my progress. She had found Aunt Pamela's address for me and I told her that I was very happy there. She oddly replied that she thought I would be. It was too good to last I guess and, true to form, after about two months my mind started to wander and my nocturnal habits began to worry my new Aunt.

"Peter, you were very late home last night", she announced one breakfast. "And this is not the first time", I looked up blearily from my cornflakes. "You look terrible and very tired. How can you possibly concentrate on your lectures in such a condition? Your grades are gonna suffer young man and..."

"Oh for f***s sake, leave me alone will you!" I interrupted irritably.

There was a long and tense pause. When I looked up to see the expression on Aunt Pamela's face, I knew that I was in big, big trouble.

"I beg your pardon!" she snapped with a genuinely horrified expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to say..."

"But you did", she cut my stuttering explanation short. "And you will regret it by the time I have finished with you. Go to your room! I shall be up shortly to deal with you!"

"Please Aunt Pamela! I'm sorry." I was. I really, really was.

"Get up those stairs now young man! Or do I have to drag you there by your ear?"

She stood and walked slowly to where I sat. I looked up at her tall frame and strong body and felt very small indeed.

"No Auntie", I said in a quiet voice. "I'm going."

Some ten, awful, stomach churning minutes later she walked into my room. In her hand was a long yellow crook handled cane. I felt the colour drain from my face.

"I think that something other than a simple hand spanking is called for this time Peter. I am hurt and upset by your behaviour and I will not tolerate it", she lectured as I sat on the bed and she walked around me. "You are supposed to be a responsible adult, but all I see is a bad, bad little boy. Ungrateful for the efforts of his mother and all those who have helped him get to College. A chance not afforded to everyone. A chance to free yourself of necessity and give you choice."

I stared at her. It all made sense. My "discovery" of these perfect lodgings had been no accident. "You know my mom don't you?" Aunt Pamela nodded.

"I do. Ever since we were at College together. She gave you this address because she knew that you still needed firm and caring guidance. I intend giving that to you now. You will take your trousers and underpants down and bend over the bed. I am going to cane you and cane you hard. You will receive six strokes for your foul language, six strokes for poor effort at College and a further six for your defiance of me."

She bent the springy cane between her hands. "Now don't keep me waiting. Pants down! I want to see your little bare behind over that bed. It is time for punishment."

With a sinking heart, I obeyed. Aunt Pamela had been good to me and I had let her down. Just like my mother, she knew I needed direction and was prepared to provide it. I lowered my trousers and then my underpants. They both sat in a heap at my ankles as I leaned over the bed placing my hands on the covers.

"Legs straight and lift your bottom!" she commanded tapping my bare shivering cheeks with the cane. I complied and screwed my eyes up in anticipation. Mom had only caned me twice in my life but the pain was hard to forget.

WHACK! WHACK! "AAAAAEEEEEEE! OOOOOOOOO!" I cried as the first two strokes landed swiftly.

WHACK! WHACK! "NOOOOOO! OOWWWWOOO!" Even after only four, I was having trouble keeping position.

"Be still or I will tie you down!" warned Aunt Pamela as I shook my bottom back and forth desperately trying to cool my burning skin. I gritted my teeth and took position again.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "PLEEEESSEEE! NO MORE! OOOOOAAHHH!" By this point I was in tears and that was after just six. I had twelve more to come. I stuck my nose into the sheets and bawled my head off! Aunt Pamela continued her necessary duty.

WHACK! "OOOWWW!" WHACK! "WAAA! I'M SORRRYYY!"
And boy was I sorry. The final eight strokes landed with a sharp crack of the cane on my skin and howls that my mom could probably hear in Philadelphia!

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "AHHHH! WOOOOO! WAAAAAAAAAA!"

The final four cuts were applied swiftly and hard. They stung with an intensity that I have never experienced before and as the last one landed I flopped sobbing onto the bed, my hands trying to soothe the fire that Aunt Pamela had built up in my punished rear. She placed the cane on the bed and rubbed my buttocks gently.

"I hope that I never have to cane you that hard again Peter. But that will be up to you. Be assured that I will punish you as and when necessary as long as you live under this roof. Of course, you do not have to stay here and that is what I want you to think about whilst I leave you to recover. When you are ready, come down to the kitchen and we can talk...and have some nice cake eh!" she laughed with a final soothing rub of my bottom whilst I sniffed and gulped into the pillow.

I suppose you have already guessed that I stayed. And on graduation day both my Mom and Aunt Pamela sat proudly in the audience beaming with pride and joy! I guess I'm lucky, I have two mom's who wont give up on me and are more than happy to pass on a few little tips to my girlfriend when my attention wanders! She has also proved to be more than able in matters of discipline. Perhaps one day I will write and tell you about the first time Sonja decided that I needed a little attitude adjustment!

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