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Date Posted:06:40:23 08/15/21 Sun In reply to:
's message, "A thing of beauty" on 13:22:15 08/11/21 Wed
>Our 17yo son has put on a spurt of growth in the last
>couple of years, and he has now passed my 5' 11”
>height. You might think this would daunt his mother
>when it comes to taking the boy over her knee for a
>spanking. Not a bit of it. Irene is just 5' 5” (or
>as she tells me, 5' 6” on a good day). I can only
>conclude that he is conditioned to obeying his mother
>when she feels the need to discipline him.
>His crime was disobedience and thoughtless behaviour.
>Supposed to come straight home after football
>practice. He decided he had better things to do, and
>not so much as a text or messaging to let us know. Two
>and a half hours later before we saw him. It was a
>roast dinner, and my wife likes everyone to be present
>for these meals, as he well knows.
>Now Irene sits on the sofa at a slight angle, and our
>rebellious son is draped over her lap, trousers and
>underpants round his knees. She has the hairbrush in
>one hand, the other holds his right wrist behind his
>back. He is going nowhere.
>His sister and I sit opposite each other in the
>armchairs, and we are both captivated by the panorama
>unfolding before us. Our son, to his credit, did not
>argue when told to bend over his mother's knee, after
>baring his bottom. He knows better.
>The brush now rests on his alabaster white buttocks.
>Then it is gently stroking the surface area, as if
>defining the spanking zone. My wife raises the brush,
>not particularly high, and with an accomplished poise,
>borne of much experience, starts to spank the boy's
>bare bottom. More of a flick of the wrist than a
>straight arm. Badminton, not tennis.
>The spanking is a thing of beauty, despite the
>emotional intensity that exists between mother and son
>at such times. Poetry in motion. The spank speed is
>steady at a good pace, and the teen is striving to
>demonstrate he is not really feeling it. Why he
>bothers, I do not know. The outcome is predictable
>enough. Merely a matter of time before the tear
>floodgates open. Two or three spanks to one cheek,
>before repeating to the other.
>His sister's eyes do not leave the bare bottom of her
>brother, now a dark pink, rosy almost. My wife does
>not alter the pace of the hairbrushing one iota, even
>as his whimpers become audible. Only when he has been
>soundly spanked and tears are flowing, and he lies
>spent across his mother's knee, does she relent.
>The hairbrush is held out to me. Put this back on my
>dressing table please, Mark. It is phrased as a polite
>request, but we both know it is a command. I make for
>the lounge door. A scolding for the boy and a dozen or
>so hand spanks as a “warm down” follow. Number two
>son is now being helped to his feet, and bounces from
>foot to foot in a rather ungainly manner. Hands
>clasped to a raging hot, smarting bottom.
>He blurts out he is so sorry, Mum, before rushing over
>and throwing his arms round her neck. There are tears
>in both their eyes now, and Irene embraces and soothes
>Tactfully (for me), I decide to leave the room, and
>return the brush to its resting place. It certainly
>deserves a rest. My daughter follows me upstairs, and
>stands at the bedroom door as I approach the dressing
>table. That was a really good spanking, spoilt by that
>yucky clingy cuddle after, she tells me.
>“You often cling to me like that after a sound
>spanking,” I remind her.
>“I DO not!” she protests indignantly.
>I start tapping my left palm with the hairbrush.
>“Shall we see who is right then?” I tease her
>“Leggings and knickers down, young lady, and over my
>The retort is most unladylike and she storms off in a
>No hugs for Dad today then.
I loved reading this Mark. You are a real story teller. You make me laugh too. It is a thing a beauty having a teen son over my lap & one that just submits despite his age or size. Sort of reminds me as Hugh can be just like your son.