Melissa III

ADULT FANTASY STORY. MATERNAL SPANKINGS. ALL CHARACTERS FICTIONAL. IF YOU ARE NOT OVER 18, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. READING THIS STORY MEANS YOU ARE OVER 18.

My Babysitter Melissa Part III by Randy

At 8:00 I switched off the TV dutifully and went up to my room, greeting Melissa as I passed her in the living room. As instructed, I first brushed my teeth. I was so distracted that it took longer than usual to brush. My hand was even shaking at one point. I then peed and washed my face and hands before heading for my room. As I entered the clock said 8:07. I had just thirteen minutes to clean up the huge mess. It really was a disaster area. Toys and clothes were strewn everywhere. There was still enough time but I would have to work quickly.

I began with the dirty clothes, gathering them up and depositing them in the laundry bag in my closet. Even that took three minutes. Just ten minutes to go. The next task was my homework and school papers which were well scattered. It took some time getting them in order and I ended up getting finnicky and putting every page into its proper order and each assignment back in the right class folder. Before I knew it, the clock said 8:17. I only had three minutes and there were more papers to put away. Suddenly I decided I was being foolish, taking such risks. I quickly began stuffing papers into any old folder and arranging books in a neat pile. Would Melissa mind all the papers sticking out of the books? Frantically I began straightening them out before realizing I had more pressing matters to clean up with only two minutes left.

All of my toys soldiers were still scattered around a battle field I had assembled earlier that afternoon. I grabbed the Union and Confederate soldiers and crammed them in their cardboard box and shoved it under my bed. Next came the Marines and the Germans who were mixed into this global conflict I had staged uniting the great armies and battles of history (and all of my different soldiers). I had managed to get them put away and turned to the remaining cowboys and Indians when I heard Melissa climbing the steps. The clock said 8:20 and still there were fifty soldiers remaining and the whole terrain of the battlefield. The bridges, forts, and towers were mostly composed of Lego blocks which needed disassembly. Unused Lego pieces also littered the floor. And my clean laundry was still waiting on my bed, folded where mommy had left it.

As Meslissa stepped through the door, I could tell instantly that it was too late and I froze, making things worse. She surveyed the scene for a few moments and then spoke in the same firm voice used in Sunday School.

"It looks like we are going to have to have a real bedtime lesson tongight after all, Danny. You've got five minutes to finish cleaning this room or you'll be twice as sorry. Do you understand me, young man?"

I gulped and nodded and went cleaning frenzy and managed to finish the job by 8:25. The whole time, Melissa just stood there in the doorway and watched. When I put my clean clothes away, she walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. I turned from my last chore - putting those clothes away - to see her croking her index finger at me and beckoning.

"Young man, I gave you ample warning about what would happen, didn't I?"

"Yes, Melissa, but I was almost..."

"Shush, young man. I don't want to hear any excuses. You knew what you had to do and you knew what would happen if you didn't do it. Remember your mother's instructions to me about making sure you cleaned your room up by bedtime."

"But it's still a couple minutes before my bedtime, Melissa. I was just about finished when..."

"I said no excuses, young man, and I mean it. You promised me to have everything cleaned up by 8:20 so I could read you a story. That was our agreement. Wasn't it?"

I hung my head and stared at the floor, angry and yet excited at the same time.

"I thought so. No, Danny, it's time you found out what a real spanking from Melissa feels like. I've should have turned you over my knee a dozen times by now in Sunday School. I'm glad I finally have a chance to give you what you so obviously need. Your mother may spank you once or twice a week but I suspect you are one of those immature boys who needs more discipline than that. It's also just as well that you disobeyed me, Danny, because you need to know what a real spanking from your future babysitter feels like. If it weren't this late, I'd give you some corner time first. But given the hour, we'll have to save that for your next spanking. And we won't have any time for a real underpants warmup tonight."

Melissa then yanked my pyjamas and underpants down to my ankles in one swift tug. My penis was still saluting the sky but it didn't stay that way for long. Quickly I was pulled over her lap until my feet kicked helplessly in the air. Within seconds, my first spanking from Melissa had begun. And it hurt almost as much as one from my mother. Still, I tried to be brave about it at first, begging to be let off and responding to her spanks with a steady stream of "ouches".

Ignoring my requests, Melissa spanked on with a rapid, hard swing, alternating from one cheek to the other and scolding me continuously in a manner which helped break down my ten year old stubborness. So did the fire which built up in my backside.

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"You naughty, naughty, naughty boy. When Melissa tells you to do something, she means it."

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"Everytime you fail to obey me, you are going to go right back over my lap for another sound spanking on your bare fanny."

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"I don't care if I have to spank you every time I sit for you. Is that clear, young Man?"

"Yes, Melissa, please don't spank me any more. I've learned my lesson"

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"Oh no you haven't, young man. We're just getting started. I'll tell you when I think you've learned a lesson."

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"Oooowwwww... owwwww... you're hurting me, Melissa"

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"It's supposed to hurt, young man, it's a spanking and it's just what a naughty boy like you needs to mind his babysitter."

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"If you act like a little boy and disobey Melissa, she will treat you like a little boy and pull your pants down for a good spanking on your bare bottom. When you start crying like a baby, we'll be getting somewhere with your lesson."

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"Nooooo, Melissa ... pleeeeaaaasse ... I'll be a good boy, I promise. I'll be a good boy."

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"I'm sure you will be a good little boy, Danny, but not until after you have learned how to behave like one over my knee."

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"Noooooo... ooo noooooooooooo.... nooooooooo"

As the heat in my fanny turned into a burning sting, my cries gradually shifted from protests and ouches and promises to the first hints of real crying. Like Mrs. Worthington, mommy always spanked me until I cried and I figured Melissa would do the same as well. Though her spankings were less painful than mommy's, I wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. In the hopes of ending my spanking earlier, I started to cry more openly now. But Melissa spanked on with the same steady pace.

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"How does it feel to be lying bare bottom over a sixteen-year old girl's lap for a spanking like a second grader, Danny?"

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"Noooooo oooooooohhhhhhhh boooooooooo waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh." By then, I had slipped past the point of a coherent response. I could have mustered a reply had she pressed the matter but she just kept on spanking and I finally let loose with some real bawling.

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"You can kick and cry all you want, young man, but Melissa will decide when you have been properly spanked. Your mother told me she believes a real spanking only begins when one hears real crying. And I couldn't agree more."

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"Booo hoooo ooooo noooooo waaaaahhhh waaahhhhhh nooooo Melissaaaaaaa waaaaaaaah" I was now crying my heart out and well beyond all embarrassment about it.

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Despite my anguish, I felt a certain triumph somewhere in the back of my mind. Here, at last, was a real spanking from my beloved. She had taken over for the night as my mommy and would be doing so two or three nights a week for years to come.

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She might have been too old to be my girlfriend - not that I had any idea of what a girlfriend might entail - but she was not too old to take down my pants whenever I misbehaved and spank me.

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As I cried and cried, I also felt in my exhaustion and weakness a wonderful dependency forming in which all of my affection for Melissa could be somewhow preserved and even nourished. Over my lap, she had become my new mommy and girlfriend all wrapped up in one.

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"Oooooooo noooooo Mommy Melissa nooooooo... I promise oooooooo I promise I'll be a good boy ooooooooo from now... I promise oooooooo Mommy Melissa."

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"Mommy Melissa's going to take good care of you from now on," she replied, picking up on her new name right away and slowing down her spanks noticeably before tapering off.

I don't know where that phrase "Mommy Melissa" came from. I think she spanked it out of me, spanked it up from the depths of my psyche and into the clear light of day. Apparently it was well received because it stuck with both us us immediately and became our secret phrase for spankings I was due or had received.

"Are you going to be a good little boy from now on, Danny?" she asked, gently rubbing my sore bottom now.

"Yess... oooooo.... yess... I promise I'll be a good boy ooooo... I promise, Mommy Melissa".

For the next few minutes, Melissa continued to rub me gently until my crying subsided. I had kicked my pyjamas and underpants completely off and it was easy for her to stand me on my feet and takle me in her arms for the second hug of the evening. Now her hand rubbed real comfort into my scalding fanny as I felt the full softness of her breasts again. And there, holding me all safe in her arms, Melissa kissed away my tears and asked if I understood why she had to spank me. I nodded through my heaving breath and hugged her more tightly than ever.

"Whenever you fail to mind Mommy Melissa, she's going to give you a sound spanking on your bare fanny, isn't she?. I expect you to have your room clean on time in the future, little boy, do you understand? Otherwise you'll be back over my knee lickety split. Do you hear me, Danny?"

I nodded to her questions as I clung more tightly to her and cried softly and freely, my face buried in her shoulder under her hair.

"I'm going to have give you a good spanking like that every time you misbehave from now on, I hope you realize that. From now on I want your room clean by 8:10 in case there is a problem. That will give me time to spank you properly with corner time before tucking you in at 8:30. Do you hear me, young man?"

I signalled with another nod and asked, "Will you give me more play spankings like tonight if I'm good, Mommy Melissa."

"Yes, but only if you're good. Otherwise Mommy Melissa will give you a real spanking. Make no mistake about it. I'll spank you everytime I sit for you if you're naughty, Danny. I meant it."

As if to prove her point, she stopped rubbing my bottom and spanked it a few times gently while hugging me tighter with her other arm. I snuggled even closer, exhilirating in the mixed feelings of naughtiness and the inner tranquility I always felt after a well-deserved punishment. I wanted to stay there forever. But it was already 8:40. With some effort, Mommy Melissa broke off my hug and reached down to fetch my pjs and underpants. While I clung to her neck, she slipped them over my feet and pulled them both back up. Moments later, with a few smacks to my pyjamaed bottom, she bundled me into bed and tucked me in.

After tucking me in, Melissa bent down to give me a good night kiss. I reached up and hugged her in return. As my face once again nestled near her ear, I whispered, "I love you Mommy Melissa."

"I love you too, Danny, and I'm going to give you all the extra love you need. Goodnight sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Mommy Melissa."

Minutes later, I fell soundly asleep, exhausted yet utterly content, a warm glow spreading from my bottom throughout my entire body.

That was the beginning of six years of regular babysitting from Melissa. She watched me once or twice a week, and sometimes more often. And she managed to find an opportunity to spank me almost everytime she took care of me. And because Melissa didn't spank as hard as my mother, I never begrudged her for any of those spankings. In fact, I came to live for them.

When I turned twelve, I spent four weeks with Melissa and her mom at their lakeside summer cottage while my parents enjoyed a Mediterreanean cruise. Melissa's father joined us on weekends. During that time, I was spanked by Melissa two or three times a week. Three of the spankings were given when her mother was home and on all three occasions, she managed to walk into the room in the middle of my punishment. When her mom wasn't around, Melissa also managed to give me a few play spankings. And when I sassed Mrs. Dobson twice when Melissa was off running errands or visiting friends, she proved even more able in the spanking department as her daughter. The most embarrassing episode was when I was crying my way through a bare bottom spanking over Mrs. Dobson's lap when Melissa returned with her friend, Jenny Saunders. I buried my head in the sofa cushion and continued sobbing like a baby as Mrs. Dobson went right on spanking and scolding me. The most embarrassing moment came when Mrs. Dobson said:

"Danny, it's clear you are one of those naughty boys will never be too old to be spanked. Both your mother and Melissa tell me you need at least one good spanking a week and sometimes more than that. And as you can see, I will be more than happy to take your pants down if you act up in my house. Mommy Dobson has had years of experience setting naughty youngsters straight. I hope I'm getting through to you young man and that I see a change in your behavior around here. Otherwise, you'll be right back here over my lap with a very sore bottom. Is that clear, young man?"

"Ye... ye.. yess... Mommy Dobson," I managed to stammer in between spanks.

"I've also told your mother can can drop you off here anytime Melissa isn't free to babysit and she has accepted my offer. Melissa isn't the only one around here who knows how to handle bad little boys, is she?"

"No... Mommy Dobson." At that, both Melissa and Sassy began giggling and I turned even more red.

As always, I was stood in the corner for fifteen minutes afterwards before Mommy Dobson called me out of the corner to pull up my pants and gave me a hug of forgiveness. And during those fifteen minutes, Melissa and Sassy managed to keep busy in the living room where they could admire my scarlet bottom.

The good news was that I also managed to hear Mrs. Dobson take Melissa to her room on five or six occasions and give her what was clearly a very sound spanking on the bare. One night just as I was falling asleep, I heard a friend of Melissa's drive up the gravel road and deposit Melissa at the front door. After a few minutes, I heard the sharp voice of Mrs. Dobson berating her daughter for returning well after her curfew. Then I heard Mrs. Dobson say something which caused me to bolt up in bed, "You're coming to my room right this instant and if I get any trouble, you'll get it right here where Danny will wake up and hear." The hallway door opened and closed and the voices faded as the two moved off into the other side of the house where Mrs. Dobson slept.

Electrified, I jumped up, opened my door, and crept out through the living room to listen at the hall door. I could hear Melissa pleading with her mother to let her off this time, that it hadn't been her fault, then the door to Martha's room opened and closed, and the voices faded again. At this, I cautiously opened the door and snuck down the hall, grateful that the sharp verbal exchange from the bedroom was masking the little creaking noises of my steps. Though the door to Melissa's bedroom was closed, it had a glass transom above it from which light poured out into the dark hall. Spying a small chair nearby, I moved it quickly alongside the door, and stood up on it. What I saw still remains imprinted on my mind. Sitting on the side of her bed, facing to the right, was Mrs. Dobson, drawing up her skirts to reveal fully her luscious thighs. Standing to her right with her back to me was Melissa. Now that she was away from my side of the house, she openly begged not to be spanked.

Upon hearing that word, my heart pounded even more violently. Almost immediately, Martha drew the resisting Melissa over her lap, raised her fluffy white summer dress and slip, and lowered her panties to expose what had to be the plumpest, most heavenly bottom ever created. Grasping Melissa's hands behind her back with her left hand, Mrs. Dobson began spanking Melissa with her right with a force and noise which shocked me. Each time her hand came down, Melissa's milky white, pillowy fanny bounced and reverberated under the impact. In between strokes, her whole bottom shook back and forth as she twisted and wriggled on her mother's lap. Within a couple dozen spanks, the center of Melissa's cheeks rapidly changed to a rosy pink in sharp contrast to the surrounding whiteness.

Throughout the ordeal, Mrs. Dobson scolded her mercilessly, rhythmically interweaving her remarks and questions with the spanks as if each was a reinforcing expression of the other. All the while, Melissa continued to beg her mother to stop while frantically kicking her legs in the most pretty and revealing manner. As her bottom gradually took on a bright red hue, her pleading turned into a more steady crying and she seemed to collapse as if she were exhausted from struggling and had resigned herself to receiving her full punishment. At this point, her crying also took on the distinct tone of a little girl. Sensing that the spanking was coming to an end, I climbed down, replaced the chair, and returned to my room while the spanking noise still covered my escape. Needless to say, I spent the next hour frantically masturbating.

Since I was as physically immature as I was emotionally, I only reached puberty at sixteen. Of course, I had discovered masturbation years before as a small child. Once I reached sixteen, I discovered the ecstasy of my first climaxes. While I had no such pleasure during a real spanking from Melissa, at the age of sixteen I began having dry orgasms when she gave me a play spanking. That had remained a favorite pastime of ours from the beginning and I usually got one a week. After I began to reach puberty, Melissa began giving me more frequent play spankings (in part because I asked for more). At such times, I usually climaxed after five minutes or so and sometimes even again ten or fifteen minutes later. As always, play spankings remained leisurely affairs lasting thirty minutes or even longer. Sometimes we would watch TV for up to an hour while Melissa play spanked me on the sofa in the den. She also liked to run cold cream into my bottom after spanking me. If I didn't climax before or during a play spanking, I usually did afterwards when she rubbed cream deep between my cheeks.

At first, she just let me climax on her thighs while she play spanked me. Over the next few months, drops of sperm began to accompany my climaxes. She always praised me lavishly each time, telling me what I big boy I was becoming and how proud she was of her "little man". Seeing that I was indeed proud of my newest accomplishment, Melissa eventually began slipping her free hand under me and masturbating me gently while she play spanked me with her right hand. Or sometimes, she would sit on a towel, pull up her skirts, and spread a liberal amount of baby oil on her thighs before pulling me across them. By the middle of my sixteenth year, she was play spanking me everytime she sat for me and even a few other times. I would drop by her house for a visit when her parents were still at work. And by then, I had begun to produce sperm which only added to the pleasure of her squeezing hand or well-oiled thighs.