A Spanking At The Manor
by Chris North
"Well young man, what have you to say for yourself?"
Mrs Sarah Forbes-Wilshaw took a small sip of tea, placed the delicate china cup on the tray and looked expectantly at the young man who stood nervously before her.
"I'm waiting Richard. Waiting for a reason why I shouldn't send you home now."
Richard shifted slightly, eyes drifting downwards.
"Look at me, not the floor!" Sarah insisted.
His head shot back up. "That's better. Now, what is your excuse for last nights disgraceful behavior?"
"I haven't got one Aunt Sarah", mumbled the lad. "I don't know what came over me. It's all a bit of a blur..."
"Ahh we have memory loss, do we?" Sarah sympathized in a less than convincing manner. "Or perhaps a hang over? Well, let me refresh you of the facts. Last night you went to the public house in the village for a drink. Now, I have no objection whatsoever to the reasonable consumption of alcohol. However, you drank so much that when you arrived home at 2 AM in a totally intoxicated state, you were unable to find your keys. You then proceeded to bang on the main door, ring the bell persistently and shout obscenities at the top of your voice. I believe that 'get your asses out of bed and let me in' was one of the more repeatable phrases." Sarah paused, looked disgusted and shook her head reproachfully.
Richard moaned and swayed a little. His head ached and he was desperate to sit down. Mrs Forbes-Wilshaw was not an unkind woman, and while she felt little sympathy for her nephew's self-inflicted condition, recognized that he may be a little more receptive if he were seated.
"Oh sit down you foolish boy!" she ordered, waving her hand in the direction of an antique wooden chair.
"Thank you. I'm s-s-sorry." he stuttered gratefully.
"And so you should be my boy. So you should be."
Once a relieved Richard was seated, Sarah continued. "As a result of all this door banging, bell ringing, obscenity shouting cacophony, you succeeded in waking the whole house. Mrs Walsh, young Lily and I were all rudely roused thinking there was a fire or some similar catastrophe. You frightened everyone. Poor Lily was in tears, and Mrs Walsh in her haste to rise from her bed tripped and hurt her ankle."
"I'm so so sorry Aunt Sarah." sniffed Richard regretfully.
"I'm sure you are", scolded his aunt. "But sorry isn't good enough young man, not nearly good enough. Because that's not all that happened is it, Richard? Hmmm? While I comforted Lily at the top of the stairs, Mrs. Walsh managed to hop to the door and open it. Remember what happened next?"
"I'll tell you. You fell in, lay on the floor, looked up at Mrs. Walsh and made a most ungallant remark about her nightgown. Then you berated her for taking so long to answer the door!"
She paused again and pursed her lips disapprovingly. Richard blushed deeply and looked away.
"I wasn't myself", he mumbled. "Someone must have spiked my drinks."
"Don't try to blame your appalling behavior on someone else young man. You drank too much. It was your fault and whining isn't going to help you at all. Besides, that doesn't excuse what happened next."
Sarah took a deep breath while Richard, starting to remember, glowed hotly.
"After you were assisted to your feet by Mrs. Walsh you staggered toward the stairs, tripped and crawled on your hands and knees all the way to the top. Upon reaching Lily and myself you stood up, wobbled from side to side, smiled leerily, and then pinched poor Lily's bottom sending her screaming to her bedroom. I'm shocked at you. She's a very sweet girl who's lived a sheltered life. Aren't you thoroughly ashamed of yourself?"
Richard cringed and felt like dying. He did indeed remember squeezing Lily's cute, pert young cheeks. She had been dressed in a pair of soft, snug fitting pink pajamas, and he just couldn't resist it. It hadn't been an unpleasant experience at the time, far from it, but now he did rather regret his actions sort of.
"Then as I escorted you to your room..."
Richard put his head in his hands. It was all coming back to him. After he pinched Lily's bottom, Aunt Sarah had grabbed his ear and marched him briskly to his room. More embarrassingly she had scolded him all the way, punctuating her words with an occasional slap to his rear as if he were a naughty child. At the time he was only half aware of it. Now he remembered it all, in graphic detail.
"You continued to behave in the most appalling manner, shouting at the top of your voice and insisting that I let you go. Your behavior was no better than that of a six year old throwing a tantrumshall I continue?"
Richard didn't need any further reminding. He shook his head, very slowly, and looked for a hole in the ground to swallow him up.
"What on earth will your mother think?" sighed Sarah shaking her head.
Richard sat up straight. He knew exactly what his mother would think and how she would respond. He was pretty sure his aunt knew too.
"Please Aunt Sarah, does she have to be told?"
"I'm sorry. I see no other choice. I feel that it's my duty to inform her of your behavior. Your mother and I are like sisters. We've been close friends since our school days. When she asked me to be your Godmother I was delighted and I've always taken that responsibility seriously. That's why I had no hesitation in offering you a home, and a chance to earn a little money at the Manor while you attended college". I promised Annabel that I'd take care of you as my own, as I always did when you were a child. We wanted you to have a decent and comfortable place to live whilst you studied. And how do you respond? By getting drunk, insulting my housekeeper and pinching poor Lily's bottom!"
"But Aunt Sa...!"
"And it's not just last night's disturbances that concern me", she cut him short. "I've been in touch with your course tutor", she paused as Richard paled. "I thought that might get your attention. Mrs. Patterson tells me that you've been missing classes, performing poorly in tests and have the manner of a recalcitrant teenager. She tells me it's easier to reason with her five year old than hold a discussion with you. She's very worried, and so am I. You're wasting a marvellous opportunity by your childish and irresponsible behaviour. It pains me to say it Richard, but you're acting like a lazy, disobedient and thoroughly ill mannered little boy. "
"But Auntie I'm nineteen!"
"Well you're acting more like nine!" Sarah silenced him with a stare. "And if you were I'd know exactly what to do. I'd put you over my knee, pull down your pants and spank your bottom until you couldn't sit down. I've done it in the past and it soon brought about a change of behavior didn't it?"
Richard face burned a bright red at the memory of her words. He suddenly felt very small and vulnerable under the steady gaze of his unhappy aunt. Shifting uneasily on the hard wooden chair, he clearly remembered the occasional trip over her lap with his pants around his knees and her hand or hairbrush soundly smacking his seat. Then there was her "corner for bad boys" where he spent many an uncomfortable hour with his nose to the wall and a burning in his behind. A spanking from Aunt Sarah, though rare, was not something you forgot in a hurry. And when she promised that you wouldn't be able to sit down, she really meant it. He tried to clear his mind. This was silly. That was years ago when he was a child. He was an adult now; she couldn't talk to him like this. He would tell her though perhaps now wasn't the right time.
"What a pity I can't resolve this matter so easily." Sarah sighed with a look of obvious regret. "I'm really not looking forward to explaining this to your dear mother." Neither was Richard. He knew she would be very disappointed in him and that bothered him a lot.
"Please Aunt Sarah. Give me another chance. I won't drink, I'll do extra duties around the house. I'll study hard. I'll apologize to Mrs. Walsh and Lily!"
Sarah looked at him doubtfully. "I don't know Richard. You've let us all down very badly indeed. You're nineteen years old but your recent manner has been no better than that of a very naughty child. That's exactly how Mrs. Walsh described you when I expressed my concerns at the church coffee morning. I was shocked to hear how you've been behaving to her as well"
"I think she's upset with me", he whined. "I don't know why."
Sarah gave him a withering look that silenced him immediately.
"Let me tell you young man that Beatrice Walsh has been with me for nearly twenty years. I trust her judgement and honesty completely. She was most reluctant to tell me of your rudeness and poor manners. I had to practically drag it out of her. She's a caring woman who raised three children single handed but always found time for you when you visited. If any of her children had behaved as badly as you, she'd have taken the strap to their bottoms and tanned them soundly! They were taught manners and respect. The very things that you seem to have forgotten, and appear to need reminding of!" Sarah paused to take a breath and fixed her nephew with a long, hard stare. "Hmmm... Perhaps I should leave you in her care for a month. I imagine that she still has her strap!"
Richard swallowed hard and began to feel very uncomfortable about where the conversation was going. It was true that Mrs Walsh, or Aunt Beatrice as he used to call her, always made a fuss over him when he holidayed at the manor. She would bake him some of her "special" chocolate cakes and let him "help" in the kitchen when he was bored. Despite being the baby of the house, he used to play with her children and was never left out of any trip or little treat that came along. Though she was a warm and patient woman, Beatrice Walsh was no pushover. As quick as she was to comfort, she also had no hesitation in applying a swift slap to a naughty bottom, including his, when childish exuberance got out of hand.
"I'm going to speak to your mother now", Sarah interrupted his thoughts. "I will discuss your behavior with her and then make my decision. Go to your room please and I will call for you later."
Richard stood up and nodded. This was so embarrassing, to be sent to his room like a naughty boy. Again, though, he thought it best not to push the point. "Yes Aunt Sarah." he mumbled miserably and headed for the stairs.
Sarah watched him go, sighed, picked up the phone and dialed.
Richard flopped on to the bed and closed his eyes. His head hurt and he was desperately worried about what his Aunt may decide. If she refused to let him stay at the manor he was in real trouble. Accommodation in the area was sparse and expensive. He had no money and couldn't rely on his mother to provide it. His father had barely been seen since the divorce, and but for his widowed aunt's support he wouldn't have been able to attend the college at all. He opened his eyes and looked around the room. Everything he could possibly need was there. TV, video, computer, all provided by his wealthy aunt to aid his studies and make him feel at home. He knew that he'd let everyone down, but had no idea of how to put it right. When he was younger and misbehaved his mother would ground or spank him and all would be forgiven. Now he was an adult it wasn't so straightforward. He was responsible for his own actions and the consequences of them. He drifted off into a fitful sleep.
It was getting dark when he heard a knocking on the door. "Hello?" he mumbled half asleep.
"Richard", came his Aunt's voice. "I want to see you downstairs in the study now."
"O.K. Aunt Sarah. I'll be there straight away." he answered quickly as he sat up.
Five minutes later, nervous but feeling better after his sleep, he walked downstairs and entered the study. This was a room that Aunt Sarah usually kept private. It was an oak panelled, conservative sanctum of books and files, decorated in dark tones and furnished with antique chairs and a soft leather couch. In the middle of the room sat a large oak desk with leather top. Richard was surprised to see Mrs.Walsh as well as his Aunt sat on the couch. Their serious expressions made his heart sink.
"Sit down Richard." gestured Sarah at the wooden chair placed a few feet from the couch. He sat and looked sheepishly at the two unsmiling ladies before him.
"I'm so sorry Auntie...Mrs Walsh..." he began.
"Yes, yes", Sarah interrupted impatiently. "I've no doubt you are, but as I said before that's not good enough this time. Your behavior has gone well beyond something that I could regard as high spirits. This is far more serious and requires a radical solution. I have talked to your mother, as well as Mrs. Walsh, who after your treatment of her last night deserves an input I believe. And we are all of one mind. You have behaved very, very badly and need to be punished." she announced clearly and sternly.
Richard stared blankly at the unemotional faces of his aunt and Mrs. Walsh. "Er...punished? What do you mean?"
"Did I ask for your comments young man?" said his aunt sharply. He shook his head. "Then be quiet and listen to what I have to say." Sarah glanced at Mrs Walsh who smiled encouragingly. "You have a choice to make. You may stay on at the manor"
"Oh thank you aunt Sarah! I'm so..."
"What did I just tell you?" Sarah boomed. "Listen to me you silly boy and don't interrupt again."
Richard clamped his mouth shut and lowered his eyes.
"Good. I'll keep this simple. Your mother, Mrs Walsh and I agree that you are not a bad boy. Just somewhat misguided. A little freedom has gone to your head and made you act foolishly. None of us wish to see you pay a disproportionate price for your actions, so we propose this. You can either go home to your mother; find another place to stay in the area or you can continue to live under my roof. However, should you choose the latter, you will accept a well deserved punishment that will take the form of a hand and hairbrush spanking from me and a thorough strapping from Mrs. Walsh. We feel that as you've behaved like a child, you should be dealt with in a similar manner. The embarrassment of being spanked at your age should be sufficiently detrimental to stop you behaving so badly in the future. Don't you agree Beatrice?"
"I do indeed Sarah", responded an unusually stern faced Mrs Walsh. "My boy was nineteen and thought he was all grown up, speaking to his mum disrespectfully and staying out until all hours. And like you Richard, he was doing badly at school and giving his teachers a hard time. I tried to talk to him but it made no difference. He wouldn't listen to anyone. So when his headmistress telephoned to tell me that they might have to expel him, I knew exactly what he needed. Something he hadn't had for a good few years." she paused and looked pointedly at Richard. "He was sent to his room and I collected my strap. I told him how disappointed I was in his behavior, but I was still his mother and wasn't going to let him throw his future away. He was going to get his backside tanned and tanned soundly. Oh he protested, said he was too old, but he knew I was determined. I kept my word and strapped his bottom until he couldn't sit down. Didn't feel so cocky and grown up then. We had a long talk later and he understood what I expected of him." she paused. "I've always been very fond of you Richard and just like with John, I won't stand by and watch you ruin your life."
Richard was confused. Very confused. He'd sat and listened quietly to his aunt and Mrs. Walsh, but could hardly believe his ears. A spanking? A strapping? He looked at Beatrice and tried to reply. It was then that he noticed the folded, brown shiny leather strap that lay beside her on the couch. His mouth went dry and all he could manage was a mumbled "I'm sorry Aunt Beatrice." He looked back at his Aunt who was nodding approvingly at her housekeeper's words.
"Thank you Beatrice dear", she smiled gently patting her hand. "I think you have explained very clearly what all our concerns are and how we propose to put things right. Of course", she returned her gaze to her stunned godson. "This all depends upon your decision, and it is yours to make. You have five minutes young man."
Richard's head was in a whirl. This was not what he had expected at all. He hadn't been spanked for years and didn't relish the thought of having his bottom warmed by either his aunt's hairbrush or the stout Mrs Walsh's strap. He had no doubt at all that she could indeed tan him until he couldn't sit down! But he was nineteen! Did nineteen year old boys, or girls for that matter, still get spanked? He sat there, stunned and unsure. He didn't want to leave the manor. Aunt Sarah was kind, and he had a steady income for luxuries that as a student in accommodation he wouldn't be able to afford. His unconscious, impatient of his dithering, answered for him.
"I want to stay. I'm sorry for the way I've behaved"
Sarah smiled, relieved almost. "Well done Richard. You've made a sensible though not easy choice. I'm proud of you. We're proud of you", she smiled at a nodding Mrs. Walsh. "Now, as it's the weekend and young Lily is away visiting relatives, I think you should receive your punishment immediately."
"What, now?" Richard panicked.
"Yes, now. It's ideal. There's no one else in the house. Besides, I believe in punishing as close to the offense as possible. While it's still fresh in all our minds."
He nodded, resigned. Best to get it over with he thought. It all still seemed so unreal.
"You are going to be punished very severely Richard, but once it's done the matter will be forgotten unless of course you repeat your offenses. And I wouldn't recommend that. Now, stand up and come over here."
Richard stood rather unsteadily and walked toward his aunt, stopping in front of her.
"Undo your jeans please." she ordered briskly. Something else he hadn't expected.
"But, but do I have to," he pleaded, suddenly embarrassed.
"A spanking over your trousers would be highly ineffective", Sarah said calmly. "When you were a boy I always took your pants down and I see no reason to change that now. As far as I'm concerned, you're still the same naughty boy, but bigger, who needs to have his bottom smacked to make him behave. I'm both your aunt and godmother. I've seen your bottom before, and believe me it's no different than any other bottom. Mrs.Walsh used to change your nappy and brought up a boy herself. The sight of a young man in his underpants won't shock us. So do as I say.
Blushing furiously, Richard obeyed and slowly unzipped his jeans. With an irritated sigh at his hesitancy Sarah leaned forward and gripped the waist of his denims, tugging them down to his knees. Reaching behind her, she retrieved a large oval wooden hairbrush and placed it by her side. Richards's mouth became even drier.
"Bend over!" she ordered crisply, patting her lap.
In a way he was almost relieved to comply. Standing in front of his aunt and Mrs. Walsh with his jeans around his knees and pale blue briefs on display, was about as embarrassing as he could imagine. With as much dignity as he could muster in the circumstances, he shuffled to his aunt's side and placed himself across her lap.
Though he hadn't occupied this position for some time, its associations and memories immediately came flooding back. But that was years ago, he reasoned, how bad could a spanking be at his age? Nevertheless, he still screwed up his eyes and tensed his cheeks as he felt Aunt Sarah's palm pat his bottom in readiness.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Sarah didn't believe in starting slowly. She spanked hard and fast. Richard got the answer to his pre-spanking question in seconds. It did still hurt, even at nineteen. He bucked and cried out as her hand bounced repeatedly off his rear. Within a minute, he was fast regretting both his choice of punishment, and a refusal to believe that his aunt could still spank him soundly. She could, and was. Despite a determination to take his punishment bravely, his resolve quickly crumbled as Sarah's hand beat a steady tattoo on his behind. Scolding and spanking him as if he were a child, she rapidly regressed him to the state of a well spanked little boy. Struggling to get off her lap, he tried to reach behind and stop her hand connecting with his seat. With surprising ease, his arm was grabbed and clamped securely in the small of his back.
"Richard stop this silliness! I've barely begun and you're acting like a baby."
"BUT IT HUUUURTS!"
"Good. That's the idea. I intend on giving you the soundest spanking of your life my boy. It's what you chose and frankly it's exactly what you deserve. So if you can't keep still then I shall ask Mrs.Walsh to hold you down. Do you want that?"
"Then don't try to stop me smacking your bottom again or I will. Now, I think it's time you felt my hairbrush. Firstly though, we'll have these down!"
Though he would later deny it, Richard screamed as Sarah tugged his underpants down to the tops of his thighs. Before he had time to protest more coherently, the solid oak hairbrush landed squarely on his bottom with a loud SMACK! resulting in a cry from his lips that reverberated around the empty house.
Again and again she applied the back of the brush to his bare bottom, ignoring his howls and pleas. He'd now given up all pretence of being brave and grown up. His legs kicked with each whack, and though he tried to fight it tears sprang to his eyes. They easily broke through his masculine defences and trickled steadily down his face.
This was a punishment spanking like he had never had before. When he was young his aunt smacked his bottom hard enough to get the message across and bring tears to his eyes, but it was always measured and never severe. She was essentially a gentle woman who always seemed as upset as he at having to discipline him. The spanking he was getting today was different. It was designed to get his attention, fast. He was nineteen, not nine. There would be no one to catch him if he fell now.
WHACK! WHACK "AAAAA! NOOOO! SMACK! SMACK! "OWWOOO!"
As Richard wriggled over her knees, Sarah had to hold his slim waist tightly to stop him falling off. He was a slightly built boy and barely as tall as she. However, in the midst of a protracted spanking that had already turned his bottom a bright red, all his energies were understandably aimed at escape. But there was none. His aunt was determined that he was going nowhere, not until she felt he'd learned his lesson.
She could tell that he was crying, but Sarah knew that this was not a good indicator that her nephew had been sufficiently spanked. As a boy, Richard had quickly become wise to his aunt's compassionate nature. He would howl loudly after the first few slaps on his pants, resulting in the premature end of his punishment. Concerned that she was being too harsh, Sarah expressed her fears to his mother, who laughed and gently explained the wily ways of a little boy! The next time Richard went over her lap thinking he could fool her with crocodile tears; he was in for a big shock. Determined that he would get a smacked bottom to remember, Sarah secured him over her knee and calmly took both his shorts and underpants down. What followed marked the end of Richards acting career!
Now, as her hand went up and down and the brush left its stinging oval print on his behind, she sensed that it was time for Beatrice to take over and apply the strap. Through a blur of tears and confused emotions, Richard realized that the spanks had stopped. His aunt was talking quietly to him, a tremor of emotion lining her voice as she told him to stand and walk over to the desk. He rose unsteadily, his face hot and wet, hands clutching his inflamed rear. The fact that he was bare bottomed in front of his aunt and Mrs Walsh no longer seemed to matter. A sound spanking helped put things into perspective, and a sense of excessive modesty suddenly felt as redundant now as it had when he was young.
A little scared of what was to come, he moved slowly and stiffly to the leather topped table. He glanced sideways to the couch where a resolute Mrs Walsh stood and walked over to his side. From her hand dangled a strap of maybe fifteen inches split into two tails. It looked supple and well used.
"Please bend over the desk and grip the other side", she said quietly, her face unemotional and fixed. "Sarah, I think it may be wise for you to hold Richards hands to prevent him jumping up. I don't want to prolong this any more than necessary."
Sarah nodded and walked to take up a position on the other side of the desk. Richard thought about a last appeal, but one look at Beatrice's purposeful face convinced him that it would be rejected. Taking a deep, uneven breath he leaned forward, resting his upper body and hips on the cool smooth surface. A stark contrast to the intense heat radiating from his inflamed cheeks. Almost immediately, Sarah gripped his hands and looked toward Mrs Walsh.
The first smack of the strap on his bare bottom was a shock. Within an instant of the two stinging tails wrapping themselves around his buttocks, the hot burn of supple, thick leather sent a shock through his body. It exited his mouth in the form of a long, noisy wail. Another loudly slapping whack was quickly applied that lifted his body and raised him on to his toes. He tried to get up, but Sarah resolutely held him down as the strap landed with yet another crack that echoed around the room.
WHAACKKK! "AAAAAAAAAAAA!" WHAACKKK! "YEEEOWWWWW!"
After six strokes his rear felt like it was on fire. He cried and pleaded but Mrs Walsh paid no attention, continuing to apply strokes with great expertise and accuracy to every available inch of his behind. Four crisply delivered whacks to his sit spot made him howl and ensured the need for a cushion later! When she got to twelve Beatrice paused briefly and looked at Sarah. They had previously agreed that he should receive eighteen strokes, but she wanted to be sure that her employer and good friend still felt the same way. Sarah, nodded to continue. Her heart was heavy but she was determined to carry out the punishment that she had promised. His bottom would soon recover, but hopefully the message of responsibility and consequence would stay with him longer and make him stronger.
Beatrice took her stance once more, behind and slightly to Richards's side. She carefully measured the distance of her swing with a few practice strokes that tapped his tender bottom gently. If she were too close, the tails would not cover both buttocks effectively. Too far away would mean a loss of accuracy and force of impact. There was little point in delivering a strapping if it didn't leave the bottom red, stinging and the well tanned offender determined not to repeat the offence. She had always found this principle worked well in the past, and felt it appropriate for Richard now. He was nineteen, but in many ways still an immature boy who needed strong and loving guidance. If she could help provide that, it would make the unpleasant task she was now performing worthwhile.
Subconsciously noting the areas of Richards bottom that she or his aunt's hairbrush had not yet fully reddened, Beatrice raised the strap and swung it down smoothly and with full force across the fleshiest part of his cheeks.
WHACKK! WHACKK! WHACKKK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKK!
As the last stroke bounced off Richard's rear, Mrs Walsh calmly placed the leather on the desktop and moved to his side. He made no attempt to rise as she gently stroked his hair and rubbed his back, leaving him to cry and release the pain of his sore bottom and regretted behavior. She had seen this reaction before, and knew that it was important for the boy not to feel alone.
Richard could feel the soft touch of her hand and appreciated its warmth, but was too stunned to speak or respond in any way. His bottom throbbed and burned so much that he felt he would never be able to sit comfortably again. But it wasn't just the physical side of his punishment that had left a deep impression. The emotional and mental shock of being treated this way, like a child, left him feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. He had never been punished as severely as this when growing up, but the severity wasn't what concerned him most.
The pain in his bottom would subside, but the pain he felt about treating two people he cared for so badly, was not as easy to deal with. As far back as he could remember, they had given him all he could ever ask for. He'd learnt in recent years how much support Sarah had given to his mother when his father left and things were bad. He remembered with fondness all the long summer holidays he'd spent at the Manor and the fun he'd had. The effort everyone had made for him.
Sarah slowly moved from the other side of the table. She watched from a distance as the experienced Beatrice soothed and calmed her nephew like a small boy. She was content to defer to her maternal housekeeper, as Sarah herself felt the need of a little space and reflection. It had been hard for her to spank his bottom so hard and then watch her favourite nephew be tanned soundly with the strap. As each stroke of the leather had landed, she had almost felt it with him as she gripped his hands tightly. Very carefully Mrs. Walsh pulled up Richards pants and encouraged him to stand. She wrapped her big arms around his shoulders as he stood, a little unsteadily, by the desk.
"Up we go - that's it very good", she coaxed. "Now, don't let me ever have to tan your bottom like that again young man." she scolded softly, stroking his forehead. With a nod in Sarah's direction, she released Richard to his aunts waiting arms.
"It's all over Richard. It's all over. You know how much we love you don't you?" she reassured him, holding on tightly.
"Yes Aunt Sarah I do, I'm sorry" he stuttered, suddenly feeling very weary but happy to hear those words from his favorite Aunt.
"I know you are. I know. You're also a very tired little boy", she teased, ruffling his hair. "So come on, let's get you upstairs so you can rest."
The following day Richard woke from a deep sleep and rolled onto his back. He quickly shifted to his front again as a tender rear reminded him of the events of the previous night. Stumbling out of bed, he walked a little stiffly to the full length mirror in the corner. Pulling down his pajamas, he turned to look at the reflection. From the fullest part of his bottom to the tops of his thighs his skin was a deep, dull red. Hands tentatively exploring his swollen rear, he glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon. He must have slept for nearly fourteen hours.
Returning to the bed, he placed a pillow on the mattress and lowered himself on to it with an audible sigh. Once settled, he relaxed a little and tried to clear his head. Though his spanking over Aunt Sarah's knee and the strapping he'd received from Mrs Walsh were painfully vivid in his mind, the events after his spanking were still a little blurred. He recalled being comforted and, blushingly, remembered Mrs. Walsh pulling his pants up before she and his aunt guided him upstairs. They'd helped him to his room and into bed where he'd dived almost immediately into a welcome and dreamless sleep.
Now, in the cold light of day, he had to face them. That
was going to considerably harder than coping with the practical discomfort
of a sore bottom! What was he going to say? How should he behave? Like
nothing had happened? As a child, he'd get a spanking and some corner
time, but the hug that followed told him it was all forgiven and forgotten.
Then everything was OK again. Oh for the simple and unconcerned recuperative
powers of childhood! But he wasn't a child anymore and felt ashamed at
his behavior and the fact that he'd been spanked bare bottomed at his
age. There was no answer he decided. It was awful and embarrassing, but
there was no point putting it off any longer. He couldn't stay in his
"Good morninger afternoon, Aunt Sarah" he said quietly.
She looked up and smiled broadly.
"Richard dear, come in, come in. You must be starving. I've already eaten but Mrs. Walsh has kept a nice big meal for you", she hesitated a little. "So how are you feeling today? Don't stand, sit down", she gestured. "Oh, sorry", a brief understanding smile crossed her lips. Rising, she retrieved a soft cushion from the couch and placed it on his chair. "Here, try this."
With a grateful smile he sat. "I'll live I think!" he declared with a sigh as his rear touched down.
"Good", said Sarah gravely. "I'd hate to have to explain to your mother that we spanked you to death!"
Richard looked at her so solemn face and noticed the twinkle in her eye. He couldn't help himself and started to laugh. Sarah, as relieved as he, joined in.
The ice broken, they talked about what had happened. Richard promised he would concentrate on his studies, but would appreciate her going to the college with him to work things out with his tutor. Sarah, looking very proud to be asked, promised that she would.
"I know that you're the one with the sore bottom Richard", she sympathized, taking his hand. "But it really did hurt us as much as it did you just in a different way."
It would have sounded like a cliché from almost anyone else, but looking at her caring face, Richard knew that she truly meant it.
"Well! Well!" came a voice from the door. They turned to see Mrs. Walsh breeze in. "So you're up at last are you!" she scolded, laughing. "And I'll bet you're one hungry boy. Am I right?"
Blushing at her teasing he nodded. "I'd love my lunch now Aunt Beatrice, please."
She put her arm around him and grinned happily. "Now that's the polite young man who used to help me in the kitchen. I think this calls for some of my special cakes don't you?"
Richard nodded enthusiastically. He hadn't lost his recuperative powers after all!
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