Julie, A Hairbrush And Myself
The story opens three years after Mario ended over Julie’s knee, Mario now nearly 20 is a full time member of the armed forces and decides to come home. He neglects to inform the lovely Marta.
Several years have passed since, to me the embarrassing episode regarding Julies bra.
Since then I had completed my schooling and thanks to mom as Marta became, I finished school with an above average grade mark. Mom pushed me and set goals for me to achieve, she punished me when I failed to meet those goals, punished me hard; but coupled with those spankings came lavish praise when I achieved and exceeded those goals.
After the end of the school year I had a six month wait prior to the start of my national service and mom said that I had to find a job or at least start thinking about university. Mom and I had many a discussion and like any mother she wanted the very best for me. I, however was adamant and mom acquiesced to my will that I join the navy instead of going to university. Mom stipulated that I had therefore to find work.
“Maybe,” she said, “Julie may have a job for you in the warehouse.”
With that she dialled Julie’s phone number and when she came off the phone the job was arranged and I started working full time for Julie in the warehouse.
The next six months passed quickly, in the blink of an eye, it seemed. All too soon I found myself on the train heading to the army camp, the journey took two days, two days spent sitting on a cushion in the compartment, sitting on a cushion due to a spanking the morning I was due to leave. Mom decided that due to the fact I would be alone without her guidance in my life I needed something to “Tide me over”. Whilst it was not a particularly severe spanking it still made a statement as well as an impression.
Eighteen months were to pass before I returned home. In the months I was away I had filled out. The training was rigorous and the results were there for all to see. My regiment achieving top marks in the physical fitness. All this meant that when I started my naval basic training I was at the peak of physical condition. Yes I was and still am short in height but now I had muscles. My younger brothers David and Grant said I was built like a “pocket battleship.”
I returned home on two weeks leave. Mom and my brothers were delighted to see me as I arrived without letting them know. The first evening was just mom and I, David had gone to see his father and Grant had gone out with his friends. I purposely never told mom I was coming home as it seemed a way of getting a spanking and although I had met a young lady I had not been spanked in over a year. But how I was going to bring up the topic I had no clue. In a typical maternal fashion, mom solved that problem very quickly and very early into the evening.
After supper that night I helped mom do the dishes and made us each a cup of coffee when mom excused herself for a moment and returned carrying her trusty hairbrush. She sat down in the middle of the three seater sofa and after putting the brush down on the coffee table picked up her coffee cup and began to sip the hot drink.
Mom opened the innings by bowling a fast ball to me. It turned into an almost classic Yorker, almost clean bowling me.( *Note: A “Yorker” is a cricketing term. It is a ball bowled that is just short of a length and is almost impossible to play, at least as far as the batsman is concerned.)
“So Mario, did you simply forget to inform your mother of your arrival home today or did you neglect to tell me, simply in order to earn a spanking.”
I dug in deep just managing to block the ball, knowing really that I would soon be bare bottomed over my beautiful mothers knee.
“No mom, I try never to earn a spanking from you.” Wow talk about cutting straight to the chase!
Mom never said anything more, she sat up straight and looked at me, I knew all was lost, I could never look her straight in the eyes with a guilty conscience. I tried, but to no avail.
I dropped my eyes to the floor, unable to look mom in the eyes and lie.
“Mom, I am sorry, I deliberately neglected to let you know I was coming home, I have not been punished in over a year and frankly I am all at sea about it. There seems to be a storm raging and I am being tossed about as if in a life raft. I couldn’t very well come to you and ask to be punished.”
“Look at me Mario,” said mom, “it is perfectly natural for a young man leaving home and starting out in the world to lose his bearing and there is nothing wrong in admitting to that fact. Do you remember that very first time I punished you?”
Did I remember that whipping, oh boy could I ever forget that.
To mom I replied; “Yes mom I remember, you punished me for smoking.”
“Yes I did,” mom replied, “Can you remember what I said to you?
I remembered everything about that spanking, every detail etched indelibly in my brain, every searing whack of that big ruler as the edges raised welts that never seemed to stop throbbing, the disbelief that someone so petite and beautiful could inflict so much pain that I cried and cried, a little boy taught a loving lesson by mommy, all without causing any lasting damage. The lesson I learned that day would never be forgotten.
Marta smiled to herself as she too remembered that day, how she had acted without really thinking about the possible after effects of her actions, all she knew was her dislike of smoking and an inner knowledge that this was something no teenager should indulge in. Under normal circumstances her boys would have been bared over her knee while her trusty hairbrush meted out the punishment in an unwavering fashion.
While I reminisced on that fateful day, I pondered mom’s question, did I remember her words to me as she lit a fire on my bare bottom. As I thought about that afternoons events her words came back to the forefront of my mind.
Aloud I replied to mom’s question, “Yes mom I do.”
“And what did I tell you son.” Came mom’s reply.
“You told me that every little boy that got too big for his britches needed to be spanked and that you would always be there for me. If ever I felt I needed direction and guidance in my life, all I had to do was ask, even if it meant asking you to spank me. Yes mom I have never forgotten that.”
“So Mario, am I correct in assuming that not informing me you were coming home for a holiday was your way of saying you are lost and need some guidance over my knee?”, mom asked, her voice getting serious.
“Nervously I replied that that was indeed what I needed, rising to my feet, my arms at my side and my head bowed down looking at the carpet I waited for mom to give me instructions.
Marta looked up at the penitent young man stood in front of her, her heart full of pride. Pride in the fact that Mario had not lost any of the values she had instilled in the young sailor standing, waiting for her to punish him, proud that he trusted her enough to seek this course of action, knowing as he did that the remedy would be painful and that he would shed many tears during the punishment.
“look at mommy son, I want you to know I am so proud of you, you have matured so much, when you left home to do your military service you were still a child in so many ways and now you have come home a man. I cannot begin understand how much guts it has taken for you to make this decision to ask me to spank you, because that is exactly what I am going to do. Now I want you to remove your shoes and socks, take off your trousers but you may leave your underwear on, then come and stand next to my knee.”
These words, spoken so gently and tenderly caused tears to well up in my eyes, I knew this lady who had become such a central figure in my life loved me dearly and in the coming minutes would prove that love to me by taking me to the edge of the abyss and then bring me back.
I did as mom directed, removed my shoes and socks and after removing my trousers folded them neatly on the chair. Mom sitting on the sofa was to me a new thing, normally all my punishment was carried out with mom sitting on one of the dining room chairs.
Mom looked at me and gently grasping my arm encouraged me to drape myself over her lap. Once over her lap mom told me to lift my feet and lay them on the sofa. In this way I was comfortable and the sofa carried most of my weight.
I felt moms hand rubbing all over my bottom, almost soothing in the way she rubbed, then she lifted that hand and with moderate force brought it down to land on my right butt cheek. Keeping the same moderate force mom began to spank all over my bottom, the spanks themselves were not hard, yes they stung but not overly so. For about five minutes mom continued in this fashion, keeping the same tempo as well as the same intensity. A warm tingling began to grow in my bottom, slowly getting more intense, the longer mom spanked.
Mom stopped then I felt her rubbing again and then her fingers went to the waist of my underwear and then she spoke the first words since I draped myself over her knee.
“Lift up, time for these to come down son.”
I obediently lifted up and felt my underwear slip down to my knee. This was another first, never before had I ever had a spanking quite like this one, I was normally bare bottomed as I went over her knee, Not only that but the warm up was a leisurely affair, However the sense of new beginnings soon disappeared as mom began to spank me again. Was it because of the underwear or was mom spanking harder than before? My now bare butt cheeks quickly caught fire as mom expertly began to paint my bottom red. Not content to only paint my bottom, mom branched out and the steady assault began to move southwards until she reached the back of my legs. The crease got extra attention and tears quickly came.
Of its own volition my right hand flew towards my bottom, intent on protecting the sensitive flesh, now writhing and reeling under the onslaught. It failed in its mission. Mom never missed a beat, correction, mom never missed a spank, as quickly as my hand flew towards my unprotected bottom to offer some shelter it was diverted and ended up stuck between my shoulder blades, held there by mom’s left hand as her right hand continued to turn an already red bottom into something resembling the sun
By now I had lost all semblance of decorum. I thrashed and writhed, pleaded and begged for the spanking to stop and stop it did. Mom looked at me as I turned my face towards hers and said, “Time for the brush Mario. I am not going to give you a lengthy session with the brush as I am not punishing you as such but am giving you a few strokes so hang in there. They will be scorchers so you may want to take a deep breath.”
BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM
In less than a minute it was all over bar the sobbing. Mom had laid in 20 of the hardest spanks I had ever felt and now I really sobbed, mom kept me over her lap for about 15 minutes and contrary to her usual form did not send me to the corner for some reflection time. She held me in her arms for that is where I ended up as she soothed me gently calming me down. She had taken me to the very edge of the abyss and then hauled me back in.
