Mrs. McConnal VIII

Note From The Editor: The writer of this very nice story sent it to me and asked to remain anonymous. However, I have his e-mail address, so if you want to tell him what you think about his story you can email me ([email protected]) and I will make sure he gets your comments.

Chapter Eight: A Real Spanking

Then it was day. And I was alone. I felt a bit groggy still but felt good. I was in her soft guest bed, just as snug and comfy as a kid could ever hope to be. And I knew she was around somewhere, which made it perfect.

Soon she came in, dressed in her garden outfit of shorts and a flowered shirt . . . carrying a wooden hair brush. I guess she was just brushing her hair. She didn't seem mad at all. She had her springtime smile on and I wanted to hug her as if she were my mother, but didn't feel comfortable in going that far no matter how much I wanted to.

"How do you feel?" she asked. I felt great. She sat down on the edge of the bed and told me the schedule for the morning. "First you're going to take a bath. I've already washed the clothes you had on last night. And I called your housekeeper last night to tell her you'd be spending the night with us, so she won't be worried. Then after your bath," she patted my thigh through the covers with the hair brush, "you and I are going to have a little talk." She was serious now. "And then I'm going to pull down your underwear, turn you over my knee, and wear your fanny out. You're going to spank land, young man."

At first I was so shocked I couldn't even formulate a thought. Then, as the reality of what she had said sunk in, all the blood rushed from my head. I thought I was going to pass out right there. I was in a panic. I shook my head and cried, "Mo! No, Mrs. McConnal, please, PLEASE don't do that! Please! I saw what Mrs. Johnson did to Joel. Please don't to that to me. Pleeeeeeas!" I was frantic. He couldn't sit down for two days. I had seen his butt. Oh, God, no, no, no.

She actually laughed. (How could she laugh at me being beaten like that?) She set the brush aside, took me by the shoulders and explained calmly, "Jeremy, you're 12. Joel is 17. He needed a spanking that hard to do the job. You won't, darling."

I breathed a sign of relief. At least she wouldn't be doing THAT to me.

And then she answered in the most serious tone she had, "But I WILL take you to spank land." And then she became gentle and sympathetic again saying, "Now, take your bath and I'll be back up in a little while." She started a bath running for me (just like my mother would have done, I imagined) left me all comfortable and taken care of except for the fact that she was going to hurt me real bad in a few minutes. And this wasn't going to be one of those hand spankings on the seat of my pants. She left the hair brush on the dresser.

After sitting there stunned for what seemed like several minutes I got out of bed and trembled as I went towards my bath. I knew I had two options as to how to get myself through getting prepared for this. I knew Mrs. McConnal would be in full charge of everything once I was over her knee and the spanking started, but it was entirely up to me to decide how I was going to respond to this leading up to it.

Either I could concentrate only on how awful it would be being brought to crying long and hard via the administration of a hard piece of wood slamming into my tender little 12 year old butt. Remembering how I thought those 5 licks she gave me the night before really hurt, knowing this was going to hurt so much more it would be unbelievable.

And then, at the same time, I had long dreamed of her taking me over her knee and blistering my naked ass 'til I cried like a baby. Dreams of her hugging me afterward 'til I cried myself out. She had on a pair of shorts. That meant my bare dick would be lying on her bare thigh. This was the first time in my memory (or at least since I was 5), for me to lay my dick across a beautiful older woman's bare thigh. And there's no other woman I would rather that be than Mrs. McConnal. That was certainly something to anticipate with excitement. I would no more desire to have sex with Mrs. McConnal than I could have my mother. But Mrs. McConnal had become one step removed from what my mother could have been so there was the 'outside lady' to a boy that age. She was my only source of feminine affection, and this was going to be the most absolutely intimate moment that we could possibly have. And you might never have a moment quite this intimate again.

So all that is telling me to savor the moment rather than be so afraid of it that I couldn't appreciate, from the point of view of a whole life time, how special this moment was. Once I understood that I realized that in years to come this would be one of my most cherished memories of childhood and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Once I was thinking all of this, never being able to put the pain out of my mind as well (this was going to HURT!), I was faced with the possibility of having to expose a hard on to Mrs. McConnal. It would be real embarrassing to stand before her in this situation naked with a hard on. And I wasn't sure how I'd feel about laying my hard dick across her thigh. I knew it would feel good, but gosh, how mortifying.

Or I could ensure that I went in without one. But I knew when I let my fantasies run wild, once I've come, I didn't think I wanted to get spanked any more. And I didn't want to face THIS spanking with any more trepidation than I already felt.

So I determined to think about the good parts while I was taking a bath, and then concentrate of the awful part when I got out of the tub. Hopefully I would be soft then by the time Mrs. McConnal came back. Certainly the honest consideration of that much pain would cause any boy to shrivel up.

But while I was in the tub I got harder than I had ever gotten. I was afraid to touch it scared that I would come, knowing how bad I would feel then, shamed and guilty for having brought myself off over thoughts of Mrs. McConnal, and I did not want to face her feeling that much shame. I must have waited there too long, my mind having a wonderful time with the good parts. Her knock on the door startled me out of my fantasies. This was real again.

"Are you almost finished?" she called without the slightest trace of anger in her voice.

"Almost." I called back having more immediate fear of her seeing my dick hard than of the spanking to come. I had just talked with her! I had talked with her while I was naked and with a hard on! Now that might seem no big deal to adults now, but to a 12 year old boy talking to the woman he loved most in the world and who happened to be beautiful to boot, a first event and major deal.

I dried off and waited, hoping it would go down, but it wouldn't. What am I gonna do! I put on my cotton briefs. They were snug, but not strong enough to keep my hard dick from pointing straight out. If she stood me face to face and lectured me before doing this (which I figured was a safe bet) my hard on would be pointing straight at her. Oh, no! Noooooo. I hope she at least lets me keep it covered while she's talking to me.

And I went out to face the music. She was sitting in a desk chair, straight backed, cushioned, and strong. I must have gotten harder at the sight of her. Her close fitting shirt and short pants showed off her figure beautifully. She had no shoes on. I thought, 'naked from the thighs down', and got harder. I was in my underwear, soon to be naked, and with all of our combined exposed skin there was bound to be a lot of skin touched by both of us. And she was beautiful, and I loved her and she loved me. And I got even more hard. And I was absolutely without any way of dealing with the idea that Mrs. McConnal thought I wanted to have sex with her. I didn't. I wanted her to me my mother. But she wasn't. She was the 'outside woman'. 'Outside woman' can be any woman who did not raise the boy in infancy. The boy desires the same intimacy and love as he would get from his mother, but she's not his mother, so it's OK to have some sort of sexual attraction for her.

She was beautiful and I loved her and she loved me and we were about to have the most intimate moment we could ever have. What guy wouldn't be hard?

So there I stood coming out of the bathroom, still damp, and she sees my boner pointing at her underneath my briefs. Oh God, don't let her think I want to fuck her. I couldn't ever live with that.

She saw it of course, but was so sweet about it that I was reminded that I was always safe in her charge.

She opened her arms to me and said, "It's OK, darling. Come here. I understand." I went to her and she held me in her arms while she explained, "I had brothers 8 and 10 years younger than me. From the time they were 8 or so I spanked them, until they graduated from high school. They often got that way, too. I know boys can get that way just from being excited." Yeah I was excited. "I know how much you love me, Jeremy, and believe it or not I love you more than that. And it OK for us to love each other the way we do. And I'm not going to part with our friendship for anything."

I was sobbing by this time. I was certain now, that as bad as this was going to hurt, Mrs. McConnal's love for me would not diminish one bit because of anything that had gone on the night before and would go on this morning. I knew that she had to love me a whole lot, and trust me a whole lot, to be willing to do what she was going to do. And I was grateful that she loved me that much. And I was safe enough with her now that she could spank me as long and as hard as she thought I needed and I would never love her any less for it. She would love me while she was blistering my ass. And I would love her while she was blistering it. But that didn't mean I would have to like getting my behind blistered, for I knew that I definitely would not. That would be the practical counterpart to the fun patting that Sally Ann had given me.

Then she stood me up and held me by the shoulders. I wasn't hard any more, but I was never truly afraid of her but rather of what she was going to do to me. That scared the living hell out of me.

"Jeremy," she's talking serious now, "you nearly killed yourself last night." yes ma'am "Don't hang your head, look at me. You implicated people you love and care about in several felonies and came very close to destroying your father and breaking my heart to pieces." yes ma'am

"You're 12 years old, child. You're 12, for God's sake, Jeremy, don't you see that you have so much to live for and you are on the verge of throwing it away?"

"I don't get that bad off all the time, Mrs. McConnal." I hoped this would help assuage her fears. I wasn't asking for a lighter sentence and she knew that. "I didn't even mean to get that loaded last night."

She didn't understand this. So I told her that when Melissa called me in I knew Mrs. McConnal would know I had been drinking and smoking pot. Since I thought there might be one of those 'REAL' spankings to follow rehearsal, I took some pain killers. I took a lot because I was afraid she would really wear me out.

She threw her head back and laughed just like she always laughed when I had said or done something mischievous but clever. Through her laughs she gasped "Who else would take a near fatal dose of drugs so as not to feel a spanking? Only you, darling. And then you get to wait until they wear off and get a worse spanking than the one you had coming originally." She was still chuckling. "I should spank you even worse for your motivation." she smiled, "But I won't."

"Pretty stupid, huh?" I said, hanging my head again.

"Especially from you. Jeremy, I can't believe that you thought this was a good idea!"

"Well, Mrs McConnal," I answered having a very hard time looking at her. "I was drunk when I decided to take the pills. I think if I had just been smoking pot I would have been thinking better."

She looked at me in disbelief. How do you answer a 12 YEAR OLD who has just said that to you? She didn't do so in a particularly gentle fashion. When she regained her composure after being thrown shcu a curve by this little kid who, she realized, was dead serious.

"Jeremy!" she jerked my to attention by my shoulders, "You are 12 years old, child! What in the world makes you think it's acceptable for a boy your age to be doing ANY of those things. Don't you know that?!

"IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT YOU WILL KILL YOURSELF, DARLING!"

I didn't know how to answer that.

"Why would you ever want to do those things anyway?" she asked.

"'Cause it feels good." I said.

She grabbed my shoulder and gave me a stern shake. "IT FEELS GOOD!? NO! No, Jeremy it does not feel good. It does not feel good to know that if you keep that up I will lose you before you're out of high school from a drug overdose. It does NOT feel good for a father to lose all that's left of his family and his only son.

"Do you still want to be in my plays next year and the next and the next, and go to Europe with me?"

"Yes, ma'am," now I WAS in a panic. Was she threatening to take those away from me and not take me to Europe with her next year because of this? Certainly not. I was crying more when I said, "Please don't leave me, Mrs. McConnal. I love you. I want to be in you plays and go on your trips and be in your classes and visit you over here. I don't want to lose you, Mrs. McConnal." I was terror stricken now, begging, "Please don't, Mrs. McConnal! Please! I love you! I'll promise to be good! Just please don't throw me away!" I hadn't been that torn up over anything since Mom died. I mean, this kid was about to lose it.

She caught me quickly enough. That wasn't what she meant. She saw quickly that this child was panicked far beyond whatever fear she meant to place on him. She would never threaten to take her love away from him. She pulled me to her again and held me tightly. Drowning out my pleas, she told me, "No, darling I'll never throw you away. And I want more than anything to do those things with you." And then she stood me up again to make her point.

"Now do you have some understanding of how desperately some of us don't want you to throw us away, either. We can't do those things if you're dead, Jeremy. I won't have you while you grow up, I won't get to see you when you're turning gray and I'm old if you kill yourself now. I can't sit by and just enjoy you while I've got you and forget about you. If I did that, knowing you were going to soon kill yourself it would rip me to pieces. I love you. I will always love you. And I have GOT to do everything I can to get you to stop. Not because of some moral conviction, but because I was afraid you were dying last night and I couldn't bear it." I was so ashamed of myself.

"You don't have many adults in your life that you feel safe with, do you." I shook my head, no. "For that matter you don't have many friends at all, do you? Well you've got me. And I have an obligation to you to guard over you when you are in my care. And I have an insight into how special you are. You're smart, darling. Gosh you're smart. And you are so bright and alive and delightful, when you're not being sardonic and morose. Even when you're a problem in school you're delightful. Your other teachers don't paddle you because you really are entertaining when you decide to take center stage, even at inappropriate times." She was smiling again. I had stopped sobbing for the moment. She laughed as said, "But you better tone your act down if you want to avoid Mrs. Johnson's walnut board on you bottom." (I thought I'd best remember that since I knew I didn't really want to feel that paddle.) I smiled. We were joking about spanking just before she was about to give me the worst one I had ever had.

"So since I love you so much, I am gong to watch you like a hawk, young man. I know you have sources of pot, liquor and hard drugs. I know I can't stop you from doing those things unless you want to. But every time, and I mean this, every time I catch or can verify you getting loaded I will take you to spank land. Do you understand me?" I nodded. "And I mean it this time. I told you I'd spank you for that once before and I let it go several times. It's obvious when you're high, Jeremy. But I chose to ignore it's seriousness until last night. I hope you can forgive me for that." I could forgive her for anything. "And I hope you can quickly forgive me for this."

With that she pulled my briefs down past my knees. They dropped to the floor on their own from there. She guided me to stand in between her legs. Next came the part I had been both dreading and looking forward to with great excitement. She leaned me forward and across her left knee and locked her right leg behind my legs. My little dick was laying right across her thigh, just as I had imagined. It started to get hard again.

Then she shifted me forward and placed her left hand in the center of my back, pinning me. When she did this she caused my dick to get even harder as it slid across her perfect thigh. I was afraid I was going to come! No! No! No!

But she saved me. She brought down that hair brush onto the tenderest part on my young ass, at the bottom of my butt, just catching the tops of my thighs. For an instant I had heard it but felt nothing. Then. "Yeow." That hurt!. I realized that, with my butt displayed as it was, my cheeks were spread so wide that when she laid that hair brush onto the center of my ass she was spanking me all the way into my crack and even stinging my butt hole with it, just like Mrs. Johsnon had done Joel. This was too much! How could she do this to me?

She began a rapid fire barrage of assaults on my poor bottom that left no square millimeter unscathed. She began with 5-7 licks (hard ones! . . . and that hair brush was a lot harder than her hand . . . and she was working on my bare skin) on that same tender sit down spot. Then she started working her way out from there; all up the crack of my butt, across the top of both cheeks, around the side of each mound, and cross the tops of my thighs. And always going back to that special sweet spot in between working on other parts. Continuing to work on my young crack and butt hole. This was nowhere near as much fun as I had hoped, and I hadn't expected it to be a whole lot of fun once she began the beating.

Before she had even gotten around to everything once I was already crying loudly. This was far worse than anything I had imagined. Those hand spankings on my pants were no preparation for this. By the time she covered my whole bottom once I was bawling. I would have begged for her to stop but I couldn't get the words out. Every now and then I could manage a, "Please!" and her and there a, "Stop!" I did manage a, "Mrs. McConnal!" once or twice somewhere in there.

I was kicking and squalling, blinded by tears, snot running down my face, gasping for breath, and no letting up in sight. My underwear were long gone, as was any pleasure of being naked over her thigh. I was only concerned with my ass.

I gave out of steam long before she did. Exhausted I finally quit kicking and screaming and just relaxed and lay there bawling and sobbing while she continued to wreak havoc on my well exposed bottom. The last thing I remember blurting out before entering spank land was, "Mrs. McConnal . . . Mama." Beyond that was the greatest agony, but also the greatest release I had ever experienced. I had finally given in to her will, and no longer fought against the spanking.

She kept that up for what seemed like forever. But I doubt if it were really that long because she had taken me where she wanted me to go. Now she only needed to keep me there long enough for me to believe that I would never leave.

I don't remember her stopping. I don't remember whether I got up off her thigh or if when got me up. I just remember dancing around on tip toe, grabbing my screaming butt, trying somehow to relieve the flames. I was completely oblivious now to the fact that I was making such a spectacle of myself, totally naked in front of her, making no effort at all to hide my dick and balls from her full view.

As I danced I heard her make clear to me, "Now, Jeremy, that was a REAL spanking."

After I slowed down the dancing a bit she handed me my briefs. Only then was I fully aware that I was naked. My face couldn't turn any more red than it already was. And I wasn't as embarrassed as I had imagined I would be. I turned to face her to take my underwear without feeling the need to cover myself with my hand. But I did turn my back to her to put them on. And then I wasn't concerned that she was getting one last good look at my ruined behind.

Then I turned to face her, still sobbing uncontrollably. She reached out and took me in her arms while I wept saying, "I's OK now, darling. It's all over."

I sobbed, "I'm sorry, Mrs. McConnal. I'm sorry." I know you are, Jeremy. "I won't ever do that again. I promise." I know you won't, dear. And I kept sobbing in her breast, wrapped up in her arms.

She reached for a box of tissues she had handy and helped me dry my eyes and blow my nose, and dry my face. And then I climbed up in her lap, still sobbing, and went into the most wonderful Never-Never land that any boy could ever experience. No woman had held me like this since Mom. And now a woman loved me enough to go through this with me. And she was hot. I must be the luckiest boy in the world.

She held me and rocked me until I finally cried myself to sleep. She must have known that this would completely exhaust me and so had prepared to put me back to bed after spanking me.
 

The End