Mrs. McConnal XII

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 Twelve: The Meeting

My pride healed more quickly than my butt did, the opposite of what I had expected. Mrs. McConnal's continued acceptance of me with no trace of anger or resentment, and the feeling that I was more accepted by my older classmates than I had thought helped get me back into a normal flow of things.

I knew I'd have to tell Dad about what happened. There would be paperwork on the insurance for the emergency room, but even if there hadn't I knew I couldn't keep this from him forever. And the best time to tell him would be as soon as he came back.

I knew he'd be disappointed. He trusted me when he was gone to be a little adult, and I hadn't been. He had never spanked me. I wasn't expecting him to want to now. but it would not be a pleasant evening even at that.

The afternoon before he was to return I told Mrs. McConnal that I was going to tell him about the weekend. I told her that I thought I should tell Dad that she had spanked me. (If he did consider it, then maybe the fact that she had already spanked me good would mean that I didn't have to get it again.) She said that was the right thing to do and asked if I wanted for her to be there. That had not occurred to me, but I did think it might make it easier for me to get it all out.

So the three of us had a talk that night. I would rather have her wear me out again than have to tell Dad, but it had to be done. Having two adults there who were on my side helped a lot.

Dad agreed that I had been punished enough when Mrs. McConnal described the spanking she had given me. I picked up some details on it myself that I had not been able to keep track of at the time; like the fact that she gave well over 50 licks with that hair brush. (over 50 licks! No wonder it hurt so bad.) Dad insisted that I drop my pants so that he could see the condition of my bottom as it was a few days after the fact.

"Aw, Dad, not here." I sounded more of a little boy than I wanted to.

"Jeremy, Mrs. McConnal's the one who did the job, remember?" he said this light heartedly. "She's already seen your fanny, son."

So I bared myself again. "Yep," Dad said, "you did a good job alright, Mrs. McConnal." I covered myself again, quickly.

"Mrs. McConnal, Jeremy is very fond of you, as you well know. When I'm not around he's with you more than any other adult, more than any other person for that matter. He doesn't spend much time with other children. I do hope he's not bothering you and Jed."

My heart sank. I never wanted to BOTHER her. I just wanted to be with her.

"Lord no, he's not bothering me." she said. My heart was lifted again. "I've come to love Jeremy almost as if he were my own." She looked to me and smiled.

"You've given him far more love and affection that any woman has since his mother died. I know he appreciates it. And I want you to know I appreciate it, too."

She protested that it was I who made her life more fulfilling for being such a bright 'child'. I was kind of embarrassed to be hearing this, but it did feel great hearing her say that I added a lot to her life. I wanted to. I wanted her to be happier because of me, and she said she was! Fantastic! But I'd never tell the other kids that or how much it mattered to me.

"You're the closest person he has to a mother now, Mrs. McConnal. And because of that I want to make it clear that I trust you implicitly with him. And I want you to know that you have my permission," then he looked at me, "and Jeremy's permission to spank him however you see fit whenever you feel that he needs it." Oh God, he didn't really say that did he? And he added, "And I think Jeremy wants to make that a personal request from him." He looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

"Dad." I made three syllables out of it. But he wasn't letting me off the hook. He was right, I really did want to say this to her, but without prodding I would never have done so.

"Mrs McConnal," I said formally, "I do trust you with myself. And I will appreciate it if you will spank me whenever you decide that I need it." My face was steaming. "But I will ask you to please promise me . . . that you'll give me the spanking that I need, not the one that I deserve. And, please, if you ever spank me again, while you're doing it, please remember that I love you." (That ought to work.)

She patted my head, laughing, "Jeremy, you have my word on it." Then she added, "Besides, if I gave you the spanking you deserved I'd probably never stop spanking you. And since I'd be surprised if I never spank you again; when we do that, please remember that I love you, too"

Yeah, I could do that.

I stifled a smile and blushed again. Everything was OK with Dad and with Pretty Lady. I was safe, and loved. It felt good to be 12.
 

The End