"I just don't see why you won't allow me to spank Corey if it's needed," the babysitter said.
"We've talked about this, Jenny," Malcolm Fowler replied. It was clear the subject made him uncomfortable. "Besides, has Corey ever done anything to deserve it when you're babysitting?"
"No, not yet – you know Corey's always well-behaved. But it's always good to have the option if it's needed. I feel like you don't trust me."
"Not at all," he assured her. "You're very trustworthy - far more responsible than I was at eighteen. But I just don't think children should be spanked."
As Mr. Fowler left, Jenny reflected on her position. The eighteen-year-old student was the preferred babysitter for most of the parents on the street, and apart from Mr. Fowler, all of them had given her the right to spank her charges when necessary. She'd asked him why not, but he'd seemed uncomfortable with the idea and explained that he didn't believe in spanking children. She decided to let the matter go - he had made it clear that he trusted her, and Corey didn't really need it anyway.
As Jenny headed toward the living room to hear if Corey wanted to watch a movie, she noticed a light from Mr. Fowler's room. Her employer had forgotten to turn off his computer.
"We watched a movie. Corey went to bed two hours ago, fell asleep immediately, and hasn't stirred since." Jenny was still watching Mr. Fowler with the same teasing smile.
"Well, that's good. We agreed to the usual rate, I believe," Mr. Fowler said, taking a few bills from his wallet and handing them to her. Jenny made no move to take them.
"I think there's still a small task I can perform for you, Mr. Fowler. Specifically, a spanking that needs to be delivered."
Mr. Fowler shook his head. "I told you before that I don't believe in spanking children," he snapped, annoyed at her bringing up the subject for the second time that evening.
"I wasn't talking about Corey," she said. "You know, you've always phrased it like that. 'Don't believe CHILDREN should be spanked.' Always those words, suggesting you think that there's other people who SHOULD be spanked. Daddies, for instance." The grin on her face grew even wider, and she looked at him like a cat eyeing a fat, sluggish mouse. "Do you think daddies should be spanked, Mr. Fowler?"
His jaw dropped. He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't make a sound.
"Just after you left, I noticed that you hadn't turned off your computer, so I decided to turn it off for you. I was quite surprised at the image on the screen, to put it mildly - not to mention all the other tabs you had open. I looked at some more of it after Corey went to bed. A lot of pictures of men receiving hard spankings from young women." She tried her best to glare strictly at him. "I think anyone who looks at such filth should be punished. Don't you?"
He swallowed, shocked at her suggestion. The tiny teenager in the pink shirt and the tennis skirt suddenly looked quite intimidating, and the tall man in the suit felt like a small boy being scolded by his mother.
She tutted. "I'd like an answer, Mr. Fowler. Don't you agree that you deserve to be punished?"
His throat was dry. Unable to respond verbally, he nodded.
Her face lit up. "Excellent," she said gleefully. "Take two steps forward and put your hands on your head, Malcolm." He did as instructed, and she began to undo his belt and unbutton his trousers.
"You've been a very bad boy, looking at those dirty pictures - probably touching yourself as well," she scolded as she lowered his trousers to half-mast, revealing his black boxers. "Well, Miss Jenny is going to teach you what happens to naughty boys." And to his shock and horror, she placed her fingers in the waistband of his underwear.
"Wait, Jenny! I don't think is a good -"
She slapped his thigh, glaring up at him. "That's 'Miss Jenny' to you, Malcolm. I suggest you remember that. And what you think and don't think is of concern - bad boys never get to decide how they're spanked." And without waiting for a response, she lowered his boxers. Freed from the constraints of his underwear, his erection bounced out, right in front of her face. There was a slight blush in her cheeks - she wasn't used to seeing a man's erection, especially not this close - but she quickly regained control and patted her lap. "Bend over my knee, Malcolm."
As he obeyed, Jenny grinned to herself. Having a grown man across her lap, his erection trapped between her thighs and his taut cheeks bared and waiting for her palm, was an entirely different experience to disciplining her charges. Seeing the tall, strong man reduced to a meek, humiliated boy was an awesome change. She looked forward to seeing how he would respond once she began to slap his bottom.
She began to rub his pale cheeks, smiling at the goosebumps forming beneath her palm. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a long, hard spanking," she said, feeling his erection stir against her thigh. "But that's just what you deserve." And she lifted her palm and started to spank him.
As the first spank landed, there seemed to be little reaction from Malcolm. He lay across her knee, his head down and his bottom clenching and unclenching as her hand moved from cheek to cheek. She spanked quickly, but also with a bit of strength - she was determined to see him squirming as soon as possible.
"Look at you, Malcolm. Bare butt in the air, over the lap of a girl more than ten years younger than you. I hope you're ashamed of your behaviour," she scolded. She made sure her hand covered his entire bottom, from the lower parts of his back to the top of his thighs - she wanted to make sure he remembered her every time he tried to sit down tomorrow. His pale cheeks were now covered in small, pink handprints. Good, she thought, but I'm aiming for red.
"Are you going to be a good boy in the future?" she asked as he finally began to squirm on her lap.
"Yes, Jenny, I promise," he said. She felt a slight twinge of disappointment that he didn't sound close to tears.
"That's 'Miss Jenny' to you. I'm going to have to spank you harder for that."
When her palm began to sting, she told him to stand up. "Go stand with your face in that corner and your hands on your head. I'll continue with the rest of your punishment afterwards." As Malcolm hobbled over to the corner, his jeans and boxers still around his ankles, Jenny frowned in disappointment. His cheeks were pink, and she thought she could see tears at the edges of his eyes, but it was far from the sobbing, pleading mess she'd hoped to turn him into.
It was clear that spanking a grown man was a bit more than she'd faced before, and she needed an implement. Should she see whether there was a hairbrush somewhere? Maybe she could get a wooden spoon or spatula from the kitchen, or find a slipper. She rubbed her stinging palm, reflecting that she certainly wouldn't use her hand.
Fifteen minutes later, she decided to let him out of the corner. As he turned around, she noted with disapproval that he hadn't even lost his erection yet. They still had a long way to go. She glanced down, and spotted something that caused her to grin sadistically. Malcolm followed her gaze, realizing that she was looking at his belt. A cold shiver ran down his back as he realized what she meant to do.
"Jenny, I really don't think that's -"
"That's MISS Jenny. I've already told you twice," she said as she pulled his belt from the loops. "I was going to give you thirty strokes of this belt, but maybe sixty strokes will help refresh your memory." She glanced around the room to find a suitable location. "Ah. Go place your hands on the living room table." He seemed like he was about to protest, but seeing the look on her face, he quickly obeyed. "If your hands leave the table, I will repeat the stroke." She patted the belt against her palm. "Now, I want you to ask me to punish you."
"I'm sorry?" he said, confused.
"Not as sorry as you're going to be. Say 'I've been a naughty boy, Miss Jenny. Please give me a good, hard strapping.'"
He took a deep breath, and Jenny could see his erection growing harder. "I've been a naughty boy, Miss Jenny," he said, his head down. "Please give me a good, hard strapping."
"Gladly," she said, swinging the belt through the air.
As the first stroke landed, causing him to hiss in pain and arch his back, a mad grin spread across her face. THIS was how a bad boy was supposed to react when being spanked. The second stroke caused him to stomp his feet, but his hands remained on the table. "Please, Miss Jenny, not so hard!" he begged.
She giggled. "Are you telling me what to do? Do you still not understand that I'm in charge here?" The third stroke was even harder than the first two.
Again and again, the leather landed on his squirming backside as he cried, pleading with her to be gentle - pleas that were entirely ignored by the gleeful teenager. Seeing Mr. Fowler reduced to a squirming, sobbing mess was just as delightful as she had hoped.
After a while, she remembered that she'd said she would give him 60 strokes, and she hadn't been keeping count. However, she was fairly certain that he hadn't, either. "How many strokes was that?"
"I-I don't know, Miss Jenny," he managed to say through the sobs.
She looked at his backside. It was now quite red, and from his sobs, she judged that he'd ALMOST had enough. "That was 50," she decided. "I'm going to give you ten more strokes. Since you've been a good boy and taken your punishment well, they won't be so hard as the previous ones."
She swung the belt again. True to her word, she was relatively gentle, but from the sobs escaping the man's lips, she had a feeling it still hurt. He stomped and winced, howled and begged, but remained in position.
Once the tenth stroke had been released, she stepped forward and began to gently rub the crying man's stinging rear. The feeling of standing over the half-naked man sobbing into his own living room table, caressing the bruised flesh of his bare bottom, was heavenly. She helped him to stand up, and kissed the tears from his face. "You took that very well, Malcolm. I think you should give me a call the next time you're feeling naughty. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?"
"Yes, Miss Jenny. I'd like that."
A few minutes later, Jenny was walking home. As she counted the bills he'd handed her, she realized that she had found something far more lucrative than babysitting - and something far more enjoyable as well.
That was AWESOME!!!
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