lightbottom
25-01-2017, 03:21 PM
PART 6
I left for school early next day, I didn’t really want to spend much time with mum, remembering what she had said to me last night about giving me a thorough spanking again that evening, believing that Mr Davies had not given me enough punishment for disturbing them. At school the day dragged by very slowly. I avoided Mr Davies at all costs, not wanting to look into his face and see that knowing smile that he would undoubtedly give me. Fortunately there was no maths lesson that day, so itt made it easier to hide away from him. Playtimes and Dinner time didn’t pass quick enough for me because I had withdrawn into myself, not wanting to play with my mates, or even talk to them. I just wanted to keep my head down, so the day dragged on until home time.
I dawdled my way home, trying to delay what was waiting for me, but inevitably it did no good and I got home sooner than I had intended. Mum was in the kitchen when I arrived, but instead of asking how I got on at school that day she said:
“You know what you have coming to you, don’t you Dennis?’
“i’m so sorry mummy, please don’t spank me I won’t do it again” I answered.
“It is no good saying sorry now is it, you should have thought of that before you did it”
She then took me into the lounge and sat down in the armchair with me standing in front of her, gave me a lecture about not playing hooky again, as she called it, and what the consequences would be if I did. Then she started to undo my shorts and I started to cry saying:
“Oh mummy, please mummy, No mummy, please don’t”.
“It’s too late for that” she said, as she pulled my shorts down followed by my underpants. I was crying loudly now, but she took no notice and pulled me across her knees.
“You will learn to be good, not to skip school and to do as you are told. You upset me yesterday and made me very, very angry, now you are going to pay for it” she said.
Then the slaps started to hit my bottom, it started furiously, blows raining down causing me to kick out and twist about trying to reduce the impact, but to no avail. I was yelling and crying, pleading with her to stop but she just carried on. After she had thought that I had had a good hiding she stopped, that’s what I hoped. It could have been that her hand was too sore to continue. But she made me stand up, she got up off of the chair, then told me to lie over the upholstered arm of the chair. I pleaded with her again, but she picked up a leather belt which I guess had been dad’s, and started to beat me with that. I screamed with every blow that struck me and I thought that it would never end. I did eventually, and I was told to go upstairs and get ready for bed, which I did immediately.
I stood in front of the mirror, shaking with tears still running down my cheeks. The burning feeling in my bottom was intense and I could not help but to look at it in the mirror. I saw that it was all over reddened, but also had a dozen or so welts, the shape of the belt end ingrained in my bottom, which were turning purple.
I got my pyjamas on and climbed into bed, still sobbing and lay there thinking of my poor bottom. It was throbbing and still hot as my hands found their way to it and began to rub the pain away. Soon the pain subsided and that strange warm feeling came over me again and I drifted off to sleep.
I left for school early next day, I didn’t really want to spend much time with mum, remembering what she had said to me last night about giving me a thorough spanking again that evening, believing that Mr Davies had not given me enough punishment for disturbing them. At school the day dragged by very slowly. I avoided Mr Davies at all costs, not wanting to look into his face and see that knowing smile that he would undoubtedly give me. Fortunately there was no maths lesson that day, so itt made it easier to hide away from him. Playtimes and Dinner time didn’t pass quick enough for me because I had withdrawn into myself, not wanting to play with my mates, or even talk to them. I just wanted to keep my head down, so the day dragged on until home time.
I dawdled my way home, trying to delay what was waiting for me, but inevitably it did no good and I got home sooner than I had intended. Mum was in the kitchen when I arrived, but instead of asking how I got on at school that day she said:
“You know what you have coming to you, don’t you Dennis?’
“i’m so sorry mummy, please don’t spank me I won’t do it again” I answered.
“It is no good saying sorry now is it, you should have thought of that before you did it”
She then took me into the lounge and sat down in the armchair with me standing in front of her, gave me a lecture about not playing hooky again, as she called it, and what the consequences would be if I did. Then she started to undo my shorts and I started to cry saying:
“Oh mummy, please mummy, No mummy, please don’t”.
“It’s too late for that” she said, as she pulled my shorts down followed by my underpants. I was crying loudly now, but she took no notice and pulled me across her knees.
“You will learn to be good, not to skip school and to do as you are told. You upset me yesterday and made me very, very angry, now you are going to pay for it” she said.
Then the slaps started to hit my bottom, it started furiously, blows raining down causing me to kick out and twist about trying to reduce the impact, but to no avail. I was yelling and crying, pleading with her to stop but she just carried on. After she had thought that I had had a good hiding she stopped, that’s what I hoped. It could have been that her hand was too sore to continue. But she made me stand up, she got up off of the chair, then told me to lie over the upholstered arm of the chair. I pleaded with her again, but she picked up a leather belt which I guess had been dad’s, and started to beat me with that. I screamed with every blow that struck me and I thought that it would never end. I did eventually, and I was told to go upstairs and get ready for bed, which I did immediately.
I stood in front of the mirror, shaking with tears still running down my cheeks. The burning feeling in my bottom was intense and I could not help but to look at it in the mirror. I saw that it was all over reddened, but also had a dozen or so welts, the shape of the belt end ingrained in my bottom, which were turning purple.
I got my pyjamas on and climbed into bed, still sobbing and lay there thinking of my poor bottom. It was throbbing and still hot as my hands found their way to it and began to rub the pain away. Soon the pain subsided and that strange warm feeling came over me again and I drifted off to sleep.