“You were almost an hour past your curfew, Sonny.” said his mom as they finished breakfast.  Sonny (14) knew that there wasn’t any point to try to deny it so when she told him to go to his room and wait he did.  He knew what embarrassing position he must adopt for his spanking.© Y Lee Coyote

So a few minutes later he was kneeling on his bed, his TW’s about his feet leaning on the window sill admiring the trees covered in pink blossoms.  Sonny tried to think about the gorgeous trees rather than his mom and her hairbrush that were coming to turn his rear end red the color of fresh beef.

“Spanking time, Sonny.” she said to give him the warning that she was about to roast his bare bottom.  She let him feel the brush against his flesh.  She raised it and then slammed it down hard leaving an oval imprint on his bare tail.

The WHACK was instantly followed by his howl of pain.  After this was repeated a couple of times Sonny was horrified that his thirteen-year-old next door neighbor and classmate suddenly appeared just a foot from the open window.  “Good morning Mrs. Stockwood.  Good morning Sonny.” the girl said cheerfully quite delighted at witnessing his spanking.  On the other hand, Sonny was appalled that she was witnessing his being spanked and seeing his junk.

“Good morning Myra.” said the spanker “I’ll be finished spanking Sonny in a few minutes.  Come on in.  The back door is unlocked and then you can get to your studying with Sonny when the spanking is over.”

“Mom, please don’t let her watch you spanking me, pleasssse.” he pleaded.

“Don’t be silly, Sonny.  She’s familiar with spanking naughty little boys for she spanks her brothers.”  Then she asked: “Aren’t you, Myra?” That question proved to Sonny that Myra was in his room with a clear view of his certainly not so private parts this time from the rear.

“Oh, yes, ma’am, I’m very familiar but they’re still too young for the hairbrush.”  Sonny cringed even more knowing Myra was now eagerly witnessing his spanking up close.  That things could get worse never occurred to him.

“Then watch and learn.” mom said giving Sonny a few more scorchers eliciting more howls.  “Note how I spread the spanks about to get coverage all over his bottom.  The brush intensifies the contact effect on his bottom while easing it on my hand.”

“I see.  His tushie is already redder than the trees.”

“Here, Myra.” Mrs. Stockwood said handing the girl the brush.  “Make it like red roses.”

Myra immediate began to whack the errant boy’s rear with all her might.  She was delighted at the howls assuring that she was being effective along with the deepening red developing.  Mom continued to offer advice on how to be more effective.

“You’ve made it nice and red like Mommy does, Myra.” said Wendy, Sonny’s almost twelve-year-old sister to his surprise not knowing she had come to watch having heard the spanks.

Then, like Myra did with her little brothers, she ordered “Sonny get your nose into the corner with your hands on your head.”

The surprised boy quickly complied implicitly acknowledging the spanking girl’s authority, just as if his mother had given the order, and losing his TW’s completely.

“You did very well, Myra.” Mrs. Stockwood said.  “If Sonny doesn’t apply himself fully when you two are studying, please don’t hesitate spank him to get him back on course.”

A few minutes later Myra called Sonny from the corner.  He covered his junk with his hands looking for his TW’s saying “Let me get my underpants.”

“No need and put your hands to your side.  You’re no different from my brothers so you don’t have to hide anything any more than they need to.”

“Yeah, he looks just like your brothers do after you spanked them with his bright red behind except he has a little bit of hair by his boy parts.  I wish I could be the spanker.” chimed in Wendy.

“All little boys look the same, Wendy, but no spanking until you are twelve.”  Then continuing from the interruption “Also it will be easier to spank you without them.  Anyway spanked boys stay naked until the next morning.  My paternal grandma would even say ‘Little boys don’t need to be modest.’ which makes my dad blush every time he’s reminded of that part of his childhood.  Come on, Sonny, we got to get started.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he replied subconsciously realizing she was in command.  In a couple of minutes they were working at the kitchen table.