“You deserve a hiding young man and I am going to give it to you.”
I knew I was in trouble the moment I heard Helen utter these words in the store. I had been teasing my daughter all afternoon and although my darling wife ignored my antics, it all came to a head when my, our long time, friend had decided enough was enough.
“Just ignore him, Helen, he is only looking for attention.”
“Well,” said Helen, “he is going to get it and it won’t be the kind of attention he wants. That I guarantee.”
Strangely enough the threat worked, we had not seen Helen for many years until she returned to the UK from South Africa after the passing of her husband and settled in the area. We had rekindled the friendship and we soon felt completely at ease in each other’s company.
Helen was alone and my wife and I wanted her to feel part of a family so we made the extra effort to include her in our lives. I discovered she possessed a keen sense of humour albeit on a short fuse. For many years Helen had seemed to live in her husband’s shadow, content to allow him to be the centre of attention. Now on her own she had allowed her own sense of humour and her own sense of right and wrong to develop.
I was about to discover she took no prisoners. In a moment alone I asked Helen, in a roundabout way if she was serious about punishing me. Looking me in the eye, she replied, “you are like a little naughty boy sometimes and today you have gone too far. Yes I fully intend to give you the hiding you have been looking for. Not today but on Monday, Ruth says you are coming round to change the light fittings in my lounge and entrance hall. We will settle this then.” With that she sealed my fate and stopped all my fun.
Nothing more was said about the incident over the course of the weekend and on Monday morning I took my wife to work. As I dropped her off, she said to me, “now don’t forget that you are expected at Helen in 15 minutes. Stop at home and get your tools and there is a box for Helen on the small table in the lounge, take it with you, she needs it.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said before driving off.
I stopped at home, picked my tools and ladder as well as the box for Helen and made my way to her home. I parked my car and unloaded everything and carried them to the door before pressing the bell to announce my arrival.
Helen came to the door and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, helping me take the tools and equipment inside. I handed Helen the box my wife had instructed me to take. Helen took it and after asking me if I wanted a cup of tea proceeded into the kitchen box in hand. I sat down in the lounge and waited for my cup of tea.
We sat and chatted while I drank my tea and when I was finished I took my cup through to her kitchen and got started on swapping the fittings around. I cut off the power to the lights and proceeded to remove both fittings before fitting first the fitting in the passage as it was the easier of the two.
It was while I was on the ladder drilling the mounting holes for the fitting that Helen took the box I had brought and removed what was inside the box, hefting it with a smile and a soft comment.
“Oh yes this will do very nicely.” Turning to me, Helen said, “look, little one and see what mama has sent me, I think this will teach you that it is not acceptable to behave like a little brat in town and embarrass both mama and myself.”
From my position on top of the ladder I looked down at Helen sat on the sofa with the Acacia wood bath brush in her hand. It looked fairly innocuous, the handle about 7 or 8” inches long and the business end 3 inches wide and about 3/8 inch thick by 4 inches long.
I knew this brush well having bought it for my wife several years ago. It had lived, hanging from the wardrobe door handle ever since. Having being used only once to punish me by my friend Nita.
She had given me a dozen very hard spanks on my boxer clad bottom for lying to her. Now 2 years later I was about to feel it’s bite once again.
My face must have been a picture as Helen chuckled and said, “Cheer up little one, a smack bum never hurt anyone much, well it does but only for a little while and you deserve a good smack bum for being such a brat.”
I muttered under my breath, something along the lines of it not being her bum in the firing line and that she would not find it so funny if the roles were reversed.
I carried on fitting the light and once it was secured I switched on the breaker and switched on the light. “Wow it makes such a difference having this light here instead of in the passage. Nice one kiddo.”
I packed my tools away and once everything was complete I walked into the lounge to find that Helen had placed a straight backed chair in the middle of the room and was sat on it. She looked at me and sternly told me to remove my shoes and socks as well as my trousers.
“I had hoped I would never have to do this to you little boy but you have brought this on yourself. You can leave your boxers on for now.”
“Helen, do you have to…”I pleaded, fear gripping my heart now that the moment of truth had arrived.
Helen looked at me, tapped her leg and softly said, “come on little one, Aunty Helen wants to have nice little chat with you, park your little tush sunny side up here over aunties lap. Remember from now on I am Aunty Helen, not plain Helen.” She made sure my bottom was positioned exactly where she wanted it and slowly began to spank me.
The opening round was not particularly hard, however she did manage to spank me around a second apart, making sure she covered every square inch of my bottom. The second round began as the first, however, this time Helen upped the intensity, lifting her hand higher than before, trading frequency for intensity. By now there was a definite sting attached to every spank and I began to squirm around trying to avoid the punishing spanks. My hand made several forays into the battle zone to try deflect Helen’s hard palm until she tiring of warning me to remove my hand simply disabled it by grabbing it and holding it out of the way. Not satisfied because of the wriggling around Helen opened her lap and swung her right leg over the back of mine and trapped me in position.
Now I was trapped Helen stopped and lowered my boxers exposing my bottom, now beginning to change colour from pink to red. Picking up the brush she resumed the spanking. I was taken by surprise at the sting of the brush, the previous outing had been over my boxers not bare and the difference was great, much more sting, the acacia wood is light and therefore there is little or no bruising associated with a spanking using this brush. I was soon to discover my stoicism was to my detriment Helen intended for me to cry and the longer I held out the longer the spanking went on for.
In the end Helen’s strong right arm held sway and I burst into tears long before she stopped spanking me. Once the floodgates opened there was no stopping them, the tears poured from my eyes, and I began to wail and sob in genuine remorse. Promises of exemplary behaviour and obedience to her every will flowed from my lips in a seemingly never ending litany.
Of course like all mothers, Helen aimed to spank me to tears and once this was done she kept me crying long enough to drive out all the pent up emotions and ensure release, the kind of release brought about through a spanking.
Helen stopped spanking my bottom, now visibly red an swollen, great blotches of colour marring the surface and allowed me to finish crying before leading me to the corner while she made us a cup of tea.
Calling me from the corner a short while later Helen helped me make myself presentable before giving me a long cuddle and telling me I was forgiven.
