It wasn’t long before Tommy’s maths teacher once again had cause to advise Aunt Betsy that his performance in the maths test was not up to standard. Driving us home she began her lecture.
"You see, Tommy, your troubles have more to do with your attitude than your teacher and I have just the remedy for a boy who doesn't know how to work hard enough. It's just as well that Billy is here, especially since his mother and I see eye to eye on these matters. Young man, I am going to give your bare bottom little lesson in paying attention and I'm not going to stop until it's clear you've learned a lesson from me. Do you understand? Then you'll be going straight into your jammies and put to bed for a nap. I'll get you up for dinner, of course, but then it's right back to bed after your bottom receives a second reminder of what happens to bad little boys who don't do their school work. You're going to have lots to think about before you fall asleep tonight, young man, do you hear me?
This set off a chorus of pleading and excuses which fell on deaf ears. Aunt Betsy took hold of Tommy's hand as if he were a small child and marched him into the house, opened the front door she strode in pulling Tommy behind her and telling me to follow her and close the door behind me.
With his voice taking on a new urgency, Tommy begged:
"Please mummy, don't spank me in front of Billy, please." But Aunt Betsy only replied in a calm, businesslike manner.
"You should have thought of that when you weren't doing your homework, young man. Your cousin might as well see what happens to bad boys in this house. And anyway, Billy needs a good reminder of what to expect if he's naughty from now on." Eyeing me directly, she added:
"I rang your mother today, Billy, and we agreed you are long overdue a good spanking yourself. From what your head teacher has told me about all the trouble you've been getting into at school, now give me your hand as well. I want you to come upstairs with Tommy so you can see exactly how I handle bad little boys in this house."
With that, Aunt Betsy began to lead us to the stairs, only to struggle as Tommy began dragging and twisting on her arm. Almost immediately, she whirled around, let go of me, and in one, quick gesture, pulled Tommy's shorts and underpants inside out and halfway down his thighs. Bending over his back, she quickly applied a series of hard spanks to his bare bottom, each timed to go with a group of scolding remarks.
"SMACK Young man, SMACK you had SMACK better not SMACK give me any trouble SMACK unless you want me SMACK to get out SMACK your paddle. Now, are you SMACK going to obey your mummy? SMACK Or are you going to earn SMACK yourself extra spanks and even a paddling? SMACK"
At the very first spank, Tommy cried he would stop resisting and repeated those cries with every spank. Seeing that she had made her point, Aunt Betsy released Tommy, took our hands again, and began climbing the stairs with the two of us in tow behind her. Tommy waddled along as best he could, his bare bottom twisting back and forth framed by the white tangle of underpants and shorts below. After those sharp spanks, his physical resistance had given way to the soft crying many children adopt when they know they are about to be spanked no matter what they do or say. With Aunt Betsy leading me just as firmly by the hand, I realised I also had no choice in what was about to happen. And though I assumed I was going along only as a witness, I could not help feeling I too was about to get spanked. My mind flashed back to the many times I had waddled along, pants at half-mast just like Tommy, as my mother led me by the hand towards my bedroom or the living room sofa. By the time we reached the top of the stairs, it was all I could do to keep the growing tightness in my chest from turning into the same sort of soft crying I heard from Tommy.
Thinking back, I believe that I experienced a kind of empathic reaction with Tommy when my aunt took me by the hand. No doubt, that was exactly what she wanted. As she led us both down the hall, the truth of Aunt Betsy's earlier warning hit home. She wanted me to see how she handled bad boys because she really was planning to handle me the same way. By the time we reached Tommy's room, my sympathetic reaction had deepened and I began to sniffle along with my cousin's crying. At that moment, I understood I really was on the verge of a spanking, just like Tommy. My situation was different only in that my first spanking would come, when? Perhaps in a week or two, perhaps even that weekend. But the decision had already been made. As soon as my aunt decided the time was right, I too was going to be bare bottom spanked over her knee. Tommy's spanking was only a dress rehearsal for what I could expect from now on at Aunt Betsy's home.
These thoughts were interrupted as we entered Tommy's room and Aunt Betsy sat me down in a chair near his bed. She then marched Tommy over to the dresser. Still holding Tommy's hand, she opened a drawer with her free hand and pulled out a pair of light pink sleeper pyjamas before taking him over to the bed and sitting down. Tommy just stood there crying and begging his mother not to spank him even as she began to work the buttons of his shirt.
"Now hold still, Tommy Springer. Raise your arms so I can get this off ... that's my good boy. If only you were as adept at doing your homework. Now keep those hands up high and don't give me any trouble while I get these shorts and underpants off.
With that, she slipped the garments down to his ankles and made him lift each leg so she could slide them off his feet. By now tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was crying openly like a little boy. As I stared in dread and fascination, I realised that this was exactly how I must have looked just as my mother readied me for a spanking.
“Now let's get these socks off. I'd say your bottoms long overdue a good spanking, even more than Billy's." Then, looking directly at me, she gave Tommy's bare bottom a couple of additional sharp spanks as if to remind me of what I could expect.
Once Aunt Betsy had slipped off Tommy's socks, she again lifted each ankle and slid the pyjama sleeper over his feet before pulling the lower part all the way up to his waist. Next, she placed each arm into the sleeves and drew the top around his torso before buttoning it up. Bringing Tommy to her right, she pushed her dress up out of the way, so as not to wrinkle it, drew him across her lap and moved him forward until his head hung down near the floor and his legs waved helplessly in the air. Finally, she announced:
"And now, young man, it's time for mummy to teach you a good lesson about doing well in school. Let's undo these buttons and bare that naughty bottom of your's so we can start your spanking. I don't think we're going to take your temperature this time because your naughty bottom cannot wait another minute. Billy, pay close attention because you're going to get the same when you misbehave from now on. I have half a mind to put you in a pair of Tommy's “naughty boy jammies” and give you some of the same medicine after I finish with him. What do you think about that?"
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and began spanking Tommy's white, round bottom which bounced and juddered with each blow. His crying immediately doubled in volume and pitch and he kicked his pyjamaed feet furiously, other than that, he made no effort to wriggle off his mother's lap. On and on Aunt Betsy spanked, with a slow, deliberate pace just like Tommy had described. Within a few minutes, his plump bottom turned into a pair of pink mounds of dancing jelly, matching the colour of his pyjamas and which danced with every smack. As I continued to watch, it soon changed to a reddish tone and then a bright red. After a few minutes, Tommy was reduced to a sobbing child. With his scarlet bottom showing through the flap of his toddler's pyjamas, he looked and sounded more like a toddler than someone in his teens. Finally, after at least five minutes, Aunt Betsy stopped and asked:
"Tommy, are you learning a good lesson from mummy?"
When he managed to stammer out a yes, Aunt Betsy replied:
"Good, then I'm sure you won't have any problem continuing this lesson since it seems to be working so well. Now tell me how sorry you are and ask for the rest of your spanking. And ask me the way you've been taught or we'll start all over. Billy might as well learn what bad boys have to say halfway through their spankings."
Tommy managed to stop crying enough to stammer out his apology.
"I know I've been naughty, mummy and that I deserved this spanking. I promise I'll do better... I promise."
"What else, young man? Haven't you forgotten something?
"Yes, mummy... I know... I know... Please, mummy, I'm ready for the rest of my spanking. Please... spank me now and don't stop... until... until I've learned a good lesson."
"That's a good boy, Tommy, that's what mummy needs to hear. Now let's finish up the rest of your spanking and make sure you really have learned something this time. I don't want to have to spank you again after your next maths test, do you understand me?"
With a glance in my direction to make sure I had heard, she resumed her steady spanking rhythm which immediately brought forth a new round of sobbing and frantic kicking. Only after another five or six minutes did Aunt Betsy finally stop. For the next three minutes, she held Tommy over her lap until his crying subsided, all the while gently rubbing his scarlet bottom. Then she buttoned his flap, raised him up to sit on her lap, kissed him, told him how much she loved him and how his spankings were for his own good before standing up and tucking him into bed with a final kiss.
Turning to me, she said, “let's leave Tommy alone so he can think some
more about his lesson while he takes a nap until dinner."
My mouth was completely dry, my heart was pounding and I felt dizzy. It was partly what I had just witnessed but even more the sense that I had escaped getting a spanking myself. As a result, I was all but frozen to the floor and completely unable to speak or move when Aunt Betsy asked me to leave. Fortunately, she wasn't cross when I didn't respond. Instead, she came over, her face softening with concern, and remarked on how flushed I looked. Running her hand over my forehead, she told me I seemed hot and asked me if I felt sick. Again, I was unable to give much of an answer. Seeing my state of confusion, she steered me out of Tommy's room, closed the door, and took me down the hall before feeling my forehead again. Then she reached a decision and announced:
"Young man, we've better take your temperature. Come along with me."
With that, she escorted me into her bedroom at the other end of the hall, closed the door, and led me over near her bed before disappearing into the bathroom. After rummaging around for a while, she emerged carrying a jar of vaseline, a box of tissues, and a special thermometer which I immediately recognised from my own mother's medicine cabinet. It seemed Aunt Betsy shared quite a few ideas with her sister. Under normal circumstances, I might have protested and asked for an adult thermometer. But after what I had just witnessed, I was still in quite a dazed state.
As if foreseeing my reaction, Aunt Betsy explained. "This is the best way to take children's temperatures, especially naughty children. Since I know your mother handles you the same way, you won't mind, will you Billy? When Tommy's earned a spanking, I often take his temperature first this way just to give him another reminder of how I treat bad little boys. Your mother and I discussed this along with other methods of punishment and we both agree any boy who still needs spankings is not too old for a rectal thermometer."
With that, Aunt Betsy sat down on the bed, placed the tissues beside her, opened the jar of Vaseline and stuck the thermometer into it before setting it aside. All the while she hummed cheerily to herself. It was clearly a fairly routine process here just as it was in my home. Then turning her attention to me, she smiled and drew me over until I stood directly before her. Soothing me with caresses to the face, she continued speaking in reassuring tones as she loosened my belt and took my pants down to mid thigh. I was still in a half-daze as I watched as she pulled up her skirts, "so as not to wrinkle them" and gently steered me across her lap so that my upper and lower body extended out quite comfortably on the bed. More embarrassed than ever, I buried my face in the soft, down duvet and yielded to her motherly administrations.
"Now you just relax and lie quietly, Billy, and your Aunt Betsy will take good care of you. This will only take a few minutes."
Though embarrassed by my predicament, I also felt secure and loved, a little like I felt at home, long after a spanking, when the smarting had turned into a warm glow under the covers. I also wanted to please my aunt and yet get this whole thing over as fast as possible. Thus I lifted my hips the moment I felt her fingers at the waistband of my underpants. Noticing my cooperation, Aunt Betsy tousled my hair with her left hand and exclaimed.
"That's a good boy, Billy. That's good ... lift up so Aunt Betsy can get these underpants down."
After dragging my underpants down to my ankles, Aunt Betsy gave my bare bottom a few smacks and told me I was lucky I wasn't over her lap for a spanking. For my part, as I felt my bare torso against the soft, warm pillow of her thighs and the cool air on my bottom, it seemed as if I really was there for a spanking. My attention quickly turned elsewhere as Aunt Betsy gently pried opened my bottom cheeks and began rubbing a dab of vaseline deeply between them. Using the tip of her little finger, she gradually probed all the way into my rectum, asking me again to relax so she could finish getting me ready. As her finger slid in and out, I was horrified to feel the onset of an erection which I was powerless to stop.
By the time she slid the thermometer in and held it in place by cupping my bottom with her warm hand, I was quite stiff. Aunt Betsy seemed not to notice and said nothing, preferring instead to hum to herself as she stroked my head with her left hand and rested her right hand on my fanny. When three minutes were up and she pulled the thermometer out, I was actually throbbing against her soft thigh, my red face buried in the duvet. After checking my temperature, Aunt Betsy declared me fever free. Then, changing to a more serious tone, she added.
"Billy, though I'm glad to see you are not sick, I'm shocked at how you have reacted to this thermometer. It sometimes happens with Tommy as well. Of course, when he really does have a fever, it's not fair to punish him for such naughtiness and the same would hold true for you. But if he's well, that's a different story. Since you know I believe in firmly correcting bad little boys and since you're being very, very bad right now, you're going to get that spanking I've been promising. Normally I would put you into little boy jammies first, but since I don't want to disturb Tommy's nap, we'll have to postpone that until he gets up. Then it's dinner for both of you and straight to bed after a bedtime spanking.”
She paused and began to rub my bottom with the palm of her hand, first one cheek, then the other. “I find,” she began again. “That Tommy learns much more from an early bedtime if it comes with a warm bottom, even after he's already been spanked earlier that day. And your mother has told me how well the same thing works with you. Now please don't give your auntie any trouble because it will only make things worse. If there's one thing I won't tolerate in this house, it's boys fussing like babies when they're about to get spanked. Tommy knows what to expect if he puts up too much of a fuss or tries to get off my lap. He goes into nappies and plastic pants for the rest of the day. Would you like me to try nappy discipline on you? We've got the whole weekend ahead of us."
After what I'd been through the last twenty minutes, I was completely unable to protest this new turn of events and I frantically shook my head. Already I was crying softly and had been from the moment Aunt Betsy had announced her new plans for me. It was as if the gates to pent-up emotions had been opened and the knowledge that I was about to be spanked allowed me to release certain feelings. Recognising this as the passive, pre-spanking crying that it was, Aunt Betsy went about her preparations, shifting me off the bed and further over on her lap so that my head hung down near the rug. Only then did she begin the spanking itself. Like Tommy, and every other naughty child getting spanked, my cries immediately became sharper and more earnest.
"Young man, if you don't keep that noise down, you're going to wake Tommy from his nap. And if that happens, you'll be going to bed early tomorrow with afternoon naps tomorrow and Sunday. Of course, all naps and early bedtimes in this house come with a good bottom warming. You'll also be well nappied under your jammies. Now lower your voice unless you want to spend the whole weekend in nappies, jammies and bed.”
I was able to comply to a certain extent, it helped to bury my face in the bedding. True to her word, the spanking was not as long as Tommy's though she did stop halfway and make me ask for the rest of it. Long before then, my "problem" in front had completely subsided so that I felt no shame when Aunt Betsy eventually lifted me up from her knees, sat me back on her lap with my pants still tangled around my ankles, and held me close with comforting words.
"There, there, Billy. It's all over now. Your spanking is finished. You really were a brave boy the way you took your first spanking. It wasn't that bad, was it? Are you going to be a good boy for Aunt Betsy from now on?"
When I nodded, still crying into her shoulder, she continued:
"I thought so, Billy. It's clear you needed that spanking a lot and that you've learned a good lesson. Now if you don't want more spankings from me, all you have to do is stay out of trouble at school and do as your aunt tells you to. You know what will happen to you if you don't behave, don't you? You're going to go back over my knee every time you act up, just like Tommy. Is that clear, young man? It's obvious you still need regular spankings to help keep you in line and your aunt Betsy is going to take care of that for your mother from now on."
After wiping away my tears and kissing me, she stood me on my feet, rubbed some more of the sting away from my bottom, and pulled up underpants and my pants.
"Now do you promise to be a good boy for the rest of the weekend?"
"Yes, Aunt Betsy". I replied through my tears.
"Good. It's all too clear to me you are one of these immature boys like Tommy who needs regular discipline. I gather your mother has never used nappy discipline on you or early bedtime and pyjama punishment but she did say I should try it if I think it might help. Tommy hates being nappied, especially when I go out for the evening and leave his babysitter, Kathy, in charge. He always needs changing by bedtime and by then he usually has a spanking coming from her as well. I am sure she wouldn’t mind at all babysitting two nappied naughty little boys in their jammies and giving them both a bare bottom spanking before putting them to bed early, hmmm?”
At the time, the full implications of this didn't register with me. I was too busy nursing a sore bottom and being comforted by my aunt's soothing words and caresses.
A few hours later, we went in later to wake Billy and I found myself changed into punishment jammies just like him, mine were yellow and so very soft and comfortable, I enjoyed the sensation of wiggling my toes that were confined in the pyjama feet. Yet instead of humiliation, I felt strangely secure in my new cosy outfit, secure because it matched Billy's and made me feel I was now completely part of Aunt Betsy's home, all the way down to the warm glow of my bottom. Billy too seemed less embarrassed by his spanking and babyish pyjamas once he saw me dressed the same way.
After dinner, Tommy and I cleared the table and did the dishes as expected, all the while exchanging silent but knowing glances. When the whole kitchen was spotless, we reported to Aunt Betsy who was knitting quietly on the sofa in the living room. Although I was embarrassed standing before her dressed in my yellow toddler jammies, I was even more red-faced when I had to repeat Tommy's formal request.
"I'm sorry I was such a naughty boy today, Aunt Betsy. I'm ready for the rest of my spanking." Despite my embarrassment, the thought of going over Aunt Betsy's lap again was no longer terrifying. After all, I would have Billy right there to share the punishment this time. And however much the second spanking might smart, Billy and I would both drift off to sleep afterwards with warm bottoms, snug in our jammies in a house where naughty children were as well punished as they were loved.