Going on the Web (F/M story)

 John looked over his shoulder, making sure he was still alone. If he was discovered going on the webpages he was currently on, he knew he'd be punished. But if he WASN'T discovered....

 

He opened another page, gasping at the female forms that filled the browser. He was lost in thought, imagining what he wanted to do to the beautiful women in the pictures, when he heard a small giggle behind him that made him jump three feet in the air. He whipped his head around. His younger stepsister was looking at him with like a cat that had just spotted a particularly slow, fat mouse. "What do you think you're doing, John?"

 

He opened his mouth, trying to find SOME excuse that would save his skin, but none came. She giggled even harder. "Don't even try, young man. We both know what you've been doing, and what I'M going to do about it, don't we?"

 

He blushed. He knew perfectly well what she was about to do.

 

"Why don't you go into my room and wait for me?" she said. "I'll be in shortly to spank your bratty little bottom." She giggled again. "Oh, you're in for it now! Your butt is going to BURN!"

 

A few minutes later, he was sitting on the bed in her room, waiting for those familiar footsteps that would spell certain doom for his ability to sit. He wanted to get it over with, so that he wouldn't have to sit there worrying. Suddenly, he heard her steps. She walked firmly, but slowly, and he knew she did it to drag out his torment. But finally – or perhaps all too soon? - she reached the door, opening it. She grinned as she saw him sitting there. He had a feeling she'd be grinning a lot today.

 

"Right," she said. "You know why you're here, so there's no need for me to remind you." She sat down on the bed and clapped her hands. "Stand up and strip."

 

"S...strip?" he said nervously.

 

"Off with every stitch," she said joyously. "I think the added humiliation will be good for you."

 

He rose to his feet, and with shaking hands, started to take off his trousers. Despite the fact that she was younger than him, and had no actual authority over him, the thought of resisting her never entered his mind, and even if it had, he'd push it away. She was in charge, and he obeyed. That was the way it had always been.

 

He blushed bright red as he put his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off. He was now completely nude.

 

"Been working out, John?" She patted her lap. "Over here, then. Let's get this show on the road."

 

He placed himself over her lap, feeling her soft legs under his stomach. She placed her hand on his bottom, giving it a quick pinch. The fact that her soft hands would soon cause him so much pain seemed completely absurd.

 

He cried out as the first few smacks landed on his unprotected rear end, followed by many more. Her hand moved from cheek to cheek, each spank harder than the last. He felt tears in his eyes, and soon, he was kicking his legs.

 

"I hope you're learning your lesson, young man," she said. "I won't hesitate to spank you every night for a week if I think you need it." And with a few last smacks, she sent him to the corner.

 

He stood there, hands on his head and bottom on display, the way she'd taught him over the years. He blushed as he heard her giggle. He knew she loved watching his 'cute little butt', as she put it, as it was displayed in the corner. It was one of her favourite sights, and she had a cell phone full of pictures of it to prove it. From time to time, she'd threaten to send a couple of them to the girls in his class, but luckily, she'd been bluffing. At least so far.

 

After fifteen minutes, she told him to get out of the corner. He was about to reach for his clothes, when he noticed that she was still sitting on the bed, and now, she was holding a very big, very mean-looking hairbrush.

 

"You can't..."

 

"What's that, John?" she asked innocently. "Can't what?"

 

"You can't be thinking of using... THAT on me?"

 

"This?" she said, holding the brush up as if she'd only now noticed it. "You think I plan on spanking you with this? You think I'm planning on smacking your sore little butt with it until you can't sit for a week?" She gave him her friendliest smile. "Well, how right you are!"

 

"Please, no more!" He'd felt her brush a few times before, and was in no hurry to repeat the experience. "I've learned my lesson, honest!"

 

She tutted. "Has pleading ever saved your rear end from my wrath, Johnnie boy?" He shook it his head. "And it's not going to do it now, either." She patted her lap. "Get your butt over here now, little boy. If I have to come get you, you will regret it."

 

Defeated, he did as she instructed. He gasped as the cool wood of the brush rubbed against his bottom, goosebumps forming as he thought about how much it would sting in just a few seconds. She lifted the brush, swinging it down at his rear, and he realized how unprepared he had been. Then again, he would never be prepared for the biting pain of that accursed piece of wood.

 

"You are a naughty, filthy little boy," she said as the lifted the brush, bringing it enthusiastically down on his hind quarters. "And now, you have to pay for it."

 

He was sobbing into the bed, all fight and all rational thought driven from him by the pain of the horrible, horrible brush. By the time she put the brush down, rubbing to calm him down, his bottom was bright red, and heavily bruised.

 

"You should see your butt right now," she giggled. "Such a lovely sight."

 

He had a feeling he wouldn't share her view, but decided not to inform her of that.

 

"I should show you some proper web pages later," she said as he rose to his feet, trying in vain to rub the sting away. "Sites about strict women teaching naughty boys how to behave. Would you like that, little brat? Would you like me to show you those sites?"

 

He thought about it. Would declining her offer put his bottom in danger? If it did, the choice was easy.