A local Clarkstown lad discovers the hard way that when you're dating one of the Kennedy girls you had better bring her home on time and preferably not in the company of the police. It tends to annoy her mother and adopted aunt and that's never a good thing for the unfortunate date.
From Waldo. Andrea and Gabrielle get ready for 'business'.
Vixen Ladies. Gabrielle begins to teach Dustin a very painful lesson.
Miss Debbie from Strict Women stands in for Aunty Andrea and her ebony hairbrush.
The eighteen year old shifted nervously under the stern eyes watching him intently. He tried and failed to meet the eyes of the two ladies seated on the couch across from him.
“So you know why you’re here, young man?” one of the women, a tall, willowy beauty with a mane of lustrous curly chestnut hair asked, her green eyes shining behind the pair of stylish rectangular glasses that were perched on her nose.
“Uhhhh…yeah, I think so,” Dustin answered, resisting the urge to touch his short, spiky brown hair as he had a habit of doing when he was nervous.
Andrea Mahony let a long disappointed sounding breath out and said slowly, “Yes, I think so, what, Dustin?”
“What?” Dustin said, blinking in confusion.
“What Andrea means, young man,” the other woman on the couch spoke, she was also tall, slim, but powerful, with long blonde hair and stern ice blue eyes. Dustin knew Gabrielle Kennedy, he doubted that there was anyone in the mid sized town of Clarkstown that didn’t know and was a little bit intimidated by the formidable Kennedy matriarch. “Is that you did not end your sentence with an appropriate honorific such as ma’am or Miss, and she will also accept Aunty.”
“Oh,” Dustin said, his mouth dropping open. He had heard stories about the Spank Shop, everyone in Clarkstown had ever since Andrea opened the place, but he just hadn’t thought he’d ever end up here. “Sorry Mrs Kennedy, ma’am.”
Gabrielle sighed. “Dustin we have had this conversation more than once, dear. Mrs Kennedy is my mother-in-law, you can call me Aunty Gabrielle.”
“Yes, Aunty,” Dustin said with a blush. It always felt weird for him to call his girlfriend’s mother Aunty.
The interrogation was interrupted by the entrance of an extremely attractive, short blonde who looked like a smaller, younger version of Gabrielle Kennedy. She carried a tea tray and busied herself setting out a teapot, cups, saucers and sugar and milk, before tucking the tray under an arm and leaving the room. She stopped and gave Dustin a thin-lipped icy glare before she opened the door that connected the cosy parlour to the shop’s reception area and shut it firmly behind her.
“Well someone has made an enemy of young Kimberley,” Andrea remarked in amused tones as she poured herself a cup of tea and added in milk and sugar before stirring it and sipping.
“Our Kimmy’s very protective of her little sister and doesn’t like anyone causing her discomfort like Dustin has,” Gabrielle remarked approvingly after blowing on her own tea to cool it and taking an experimental sip.
The comment got a miserable whimper from the room’s fourth occupant. She was seated on a wooden straight-backed chair along one wall. She had Gabrielle and Kimberley’s blue eyes, fair features and blonde hair, she was taller than her older sister, but shorter than her mother.
“Do you have something to say Chelsea?” Gabrielle inquired, regarding her middle daughter over the rim of her cup.
“No Mum,” Chelsea muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the chair’s hard uncushioned seat.
“Dustin, before Kimmy came in we were trying to get to why you think you’re here at this moment,” Andrea started. “You said you think you know, would you like to enlighten us?”
“Uhhh….I thought Mum and Dad, ma’am, told you.”
“Well, yes they did as did Aunty Gabrielle and Uncle Bruce,” Andrea confirmed.
“Actually Bruce insists that Dustin call him Mr Kennedy. In fact he does that with all the girl’s boyfriends. It’s rather cute to see them squirm when they first encounter him,” Gabrielle interjected.
Although she was a little irritated that Gabrielle had interrupted her, Andrea’s lips quirked upward in a small smile. Bruce Kennedy was a large man with a military background, she could well imagine him being more than a little scary for some young man who wanted to date either of the Kennedy girls, as their youngest sister; Madeline, at nine years of age was still too young to be considering that kind of relationship. “As I was saying, they all told me what you’d done, but I want to hear it from your lips. They weren’t there, you were.”
“I brought Chelsea home late, after curfew, ma’am,” Dustin said slowly and this time he did pat his hair gently.
Andrea shrugged. “That’s not ideal behaviour, granted, but surely that’s a matter between you and Chelsea’s parents and her and them, not a reason to send you here. Isn’t there something else a little more serious?”
“The drags…” Dustin murmured.
“The what?” Andrea said sharply.
“The drags,” Dustin repeated. “Drag races, ma’am.”
“Ahhhhh yes,” Andrea said, sitting back and crossing one long nylon sheathed leg over the other. “The drag races. The story I heard was that you were engaged in one of these races with Chelsea in the car and she was brought home after curfew by Constable Tania Wheeler who was one of the police who broke up the illegal race meeting. Is any of this sounding at all familiar, Dustin?”
“Yes ma’am, indeed. Do you know how many fatalities illegal drag racing results in every year, young man?”
“No, miss,” Dustin muttered, the toe of his shoe grinding into Andrea’s floor rug.
“I’m sure you don’t. The actual figure is hard to pin down, but it is in the hundreds. Hiundreds of young lives senselessly wasted because someone wants to prove their car is faster than someone else’s. Do you understand that you and Chelsea could have been seriously injured or killed?”
“I’m a good driver!” Dustin flared, his brown eyes sparking.
“I’m sure hundreds of people who wound up in the morgue said exactly the same thing. And if you forget to call me ma’am, miss or Aunty again I’ll find a use for my caning horse,” Andrea said sternly, pointing at a fearsome heavy piece of wooden furniture in a shadowy corner of the room. “Had Constable Wheeler and other members of the Clarkstown Police Department not found and broken up that street racing meet you were at you and Chelsea could be facing a lot more than just a sore bottom.”
Dustin didn’t reply, but stared at the tops of his shoes.
“Do you want to know what your actions got Chelsea?’ Gabrielle asked coolly.
The blonde teenager’s eyes widened from where she sat. “No, Mum,” she begged, tears spilling from her eyes and sliding down her cheeks. “Please don’t tell him.”
“Oh, I’m not going to, dear,” Gabrielle said to her daughter. “You are.”
“Mum!” Chelsea gasped. “I can’t!”
“Chelsea Meaghan Kennedy,” Gabrielle said firmly, emphasizing all three of the girl’s names. “You can and you will, unless you’d like to go to my parlour and continue this discussion with Miss Spencer Paddle, then you will come back here and tell us all what happened after Constable Wheeler left to escort Dustin back home.”
Chelsea sobbed and closed her eyes as she tried to think about how to do this. When Dustin had first asked her out she had thought it was the coolest thing ever. At eighteen he really shouldn’t have still been in high school, but he’d been made to repeat a year. He was good looking and had a tough reputation. He was also a star of the school football team and had a really hot car. There were also rumours that he had a few tattoos, but Chelsea hadn’t seen them yet.
“Ummm…after you and Constable Wheeler left,” Chelsea said haltingly. “Mummy and Daddy yelled at me.”
“Oh Chelsea,” Gabrielle sighed. “Don’t be so melodramatic. Your father and I were upset and yes some voices were raised, but I do not think we yelled at you.”
“Daddy did,” Chelsea whispered through her tears.
“All right Chelsea Meaghan have it your way,” Gabrielle said from between pursed lips. “You father shouted at you. Go on.”
“Mummy sat down and ordered me over her lap,” Chelsea continued.
“After I bared your naughty little bottom,” Gabrielle interrupted.
“Yes, after that,” Chelsea agreed, licking her lips and tasting the salt of her tears.
“Go on,” Andrea encouraged the girl. “What did Mummy do once you were over her knee?”
“She spanked me, Aunty Andrea,” Chelsea admitted. “First with her hand and then her hairbrush, it was a really hard one.”
“It certainly was, had it not been so late at night I would have also been cutting a switch for you as well, young lady,” Gabrielle said.
Dustin winced and desperately tried to think about something else because the thought of Chelsea Kennedy bare bottomed over her mother’s lap was an arousing one. It did not help that Gabrielle Kennedy, despite being old enough to be his mother, was a very attractive woman.
“After Mummy spanked me, then Daddy did over his lap,” Chelsea related.
“My goodness that must have hurt, Chelsea,” Andrea said sympathetically. “Your Daddy is a big strong man.”
“It did, Aunty, then he strapped me!”
“Ahhhh…Daddy’s strap,” Andrea said.
“No more than she deserved,” Gabrielle commented. “She’s lucky it wasn’t worse. I can only imagine what my parents would have done if I’d been brought home by the police after curfew following participation in an illegal event.”
Chelsea continued to cry.
“Do you have anything you’d like to say to Chelsea after putting her through that ordeal, Dustin?” Andrea asked, looking at the boy over her glasses.
Dustin swallowed hard and said softly, “Sorry.”
“Oh you will be young man,” Andrea said ominously. “You will be very sorry by the time I’m done with you.”
Andrea rang through to reception and Kimberley’s bright voice came over the phone, “Yes ma’am!”
“Can you please escort Chelsea out to reception dear and give her a cup of tea to settle her?”
Kimberley put her arm around her younger sister’s shoulders and led her out to reception, speaking softly to her, she shot a venomous glare from around Chelsea’s head at Dustin that made the eighteen year old flinch.
“Now it’s been brought home to you how your actions can affect others, Dustin. Aunty Gabrielle and I need to impress upon you how they can directly affect you. Do you know how we’re going to do that?”
Dustin looked at the ceiling, praying for divine intervention and croaked, “You’re going to spank me.”
“To begin with,” Gabrielle muttered ominously.
Andrea couldn’t help smile at that.
“Go and stand by Aunty Gabrielle, sweetheart,” Andrea instructed.
Dustin touched his hair again, took a deep breath and stood by Gabrielle’s knee as Andrea vacated the couch and sat in her armchair by the fire, watching proceedings.
The boy hadn’t been spanked since he was small, but he still remembered the process. Feeling his cheeks heat up he began to bend over Gabrielle’s thighs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Gabrielle asked.
“You’re going to spank me, aren’t you, Aunty Gabrielle?”
“Yes, I most definitely am, but there is an order to these things, Dustin. Did you listen to what Chelsea said happened to her?”
“What did I say happened to her before I spanked her?”
“I…uhhh…ummmm…,” Dustin searched for words.
Andrea came to his rescue. “I was watching Dustin’s face and body movements while you and Chelsea were detailing her punishment. He was trying to concentrate, but I don’t think his full attention was on what you were saying. His mind was otherwise occupied.”
Gabrielle smirked at Andrea’s delicate explanation. “Well, Dustin,” she began. “Aunty Andrea and I are believers in bare bottom discipline.”
Dustin remembered what had been said about Chelsea’s bottom being bared and blushed. He had thought being a boy that they wouldn’t do that to him. He should have known it was too good to be true.
“Now you just stand there and let Aunty Gabrielle sort things out,” Gabrielle requested, she lifted the boy’s t-shirt up and he looked down in alarm. “Lift your arms so I can get this over your head, sweetie.”
“Nice chest,” Andrea remarked, sipping her tea as the boy’s upper body was revealed.
“It’s not often I see abs like that outside the gym,” Gabrielle said.
“No, they’re very impressive.”
“I work out for football, Aunty Gabrielle, Miss Andrea,” the boy admitted.
“You most certainly do,” Andrea observed approvingly.
“Pants now,” Gabrielle said firmly, her hands going to Dustin’s belt.
“Oh no, please Aunty Gabrielle,” the boy begged, his face going bright red and clasping his hands over Gabrielle’s to stop her from removing his belt.
“What about the words you are going to be spanked on the bare bottom do you not understand, Dusty?” Gabrielle asked, her blue eyes flashing and her lips pursed.
“I…uuuhhhh….I don’t….” the boy tried to explain.
“You don’t want to be spanked on your bare bottom,” Gabrielle finished. “That’s an amazing coincidence, young man, because I don’t particularly want to spank your bare bottom, but maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to engage in an illegal drag race with my daughter in the car!”
“Dustin,” Andrea said from her chair. “Please place your hands on your head and let Gabrielle get on with things. I am running a business here and you’re not my only client. We have time blocked out for you, but I don’t want to deprive someone else of what they paid for when they are sent to me for discipline.”
“But…,” Dustin tried to protest.
“Gabrielle,” Andrea said. “Maybe we should let you and Bruce deal with this at your house. I wager Bruce could make him put his hands on his head and he’s probably a sounder strapper than either of us are.”
“Oh yes,” Gabrielle murmured. “Both Kimberley and Chelsea would probably agree with you there, but I have some surprises planned for our little speedster here that will probably make up for the strength in Bruce’s arm.”
Dustin felt all the colour drain from his face. He was considered pretty tough amongst his peers, but Bruce Kennedy had him covered for height and weight and very probably strength. This was humiliating, but at least Chelsea wasn’t going to see it, if they took it to the Kennedy’s house and had Bruce handle it along with Gabrielle that could be a very real possibility. With a defeated sounding sigh he folded his hands over his head.
“There now,” Gabrielle said, her face breaking out into a sunny smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
It wasn’t long before the boy’s jeans and underpants had joined his t-shirt in a small neatly folded pile on an ottoman near the fire.
“Turn around,” Gabrielle commanded and gave Dustin a smart slap on his exposed buttocks when he was slow to obey.
“I don’t see the much discussed tattoos,” the blonde woman said, and she sounded almost disappointed.
“Maybe they’re on the soles of his feet,” Andrea mused. “I’ve heard some do that to prove how tough they are, apparently it’s the most sensitive area of the body to have tattooed.”
The boy felt a tear slide out of his eye and down his cheek as he confessed, “I haven’t got any Aunty.”
“No tattoos?” Andrea asked softly.
“So it’s just a story to make you look tough?” Gabrielle probed.
“Do you know something?” Gabrielle began. “Now that I know this I approve of you a lot more. That won’t stop me from roasting you good and proper here and now, but at least I’m a little more convinced that you’re not a complete and total idiot.”
“Tattoos aren’t cool or tough or even very smart, Dustin,” Andrea agreed with her friend and part time employee.
“No, ma’am,” the boy said in a small voice.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Gabrielle said. “We won’t tell Chelsea, although I would like it if you’re honest with her.”
“You mean I can still see her?” Dustin asked, a light of hope in his brown eyes.
“Yes, after her grounding is over. I went to bat for you there, young man. If it were up to her father you’d never be allowed within a hundred feet of her again, although I’m sure he’ll come around. Your dates will be chaperoned by someone for some time, though. If not Bruce or I, Kimberley will be present.”
Dustin sighed. That would seriously cramp his style, but at least he could still see her. He and Chelsea were one of the star couples at school. It made being one of the oldest kids at school a little easier to take.
Dustin shifted uncomfortably under the ladies’ appraising gaze. He suddenly became aware of how attractive both women were and to his horror his member slowly rose to attention.
“Turn again please,” Gabrielle requested.
“Do I need to drag you to the bathroom and wash the wax out of your ears, Dustin?” Gabrielle inquired. “You seem very slow to obey commands. I’m sure you’re much more responsive to your coach on the field.”
Closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Gabrielle and Andrea’s faces, Dustin turned around. He tried desperately to think of something unpleasant to make the swelling at his groin go down, but nothing worked. He kept seeing Gabrielle’s tall, toned body with Chelsea’s face overlaid on her mother’s and Andrea’s sparkling eyes, her full round buttocks and her high riding breasts under a thin blouse and his erection only became harder and stronger.
“Oh my!” Andrea gasped. “Aren’t we a big proud boy?”
“Does that embarrass you, Dustin?” Gabrielle asked. “Your face has gone very red. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“No, quite the opposite,” Andrea backed her friend up. “It’s rather impressive and I’m flattered.”
“As am I,” Gabrielle said.
“You can’t help it, sweetheart,” Andrea went on. “It’s quite a natural reaction. It’s mostly nerves and I don’t think it will last very long in any case.”
“May I have a towel please, Andrea?” Gabrielle asked, holding out her hand for a bathtowel which Andrea gave to her and then lay it over her lap, smoothing it out. “It also makes a rather convenient handle, too.” The blonde lady joked, encircling the hard stiff shaft with one slender hand and tugging gently to have the boy sprawling over her lap. Gabrielle lifted his legs onto the couch, so that his entire body was supported and she wasn’t taking all his weight on her lap. Dustin wriggled a little to make himself more comfortable. Gabrielle smiled to herself as she felt an insistent pressure against the towel that pressed it into her thigh.
“We’ll do something about that my boy,” Gabrielle murmured as she raised her hand and brought it swinging down to smack smartly across one firm, round, muscular buttock.
Dustin’s eyes opened wide and he gasped in shock at the blow. It wasn’t that it hurt all that much, it didn’t really, yet, but it was a surprise as he had not been expecting it and had been getting kind of comfortable on Gabrielle’s lap, which was soft, warm and womanly and he could smell the pleasant scene of her perfume. With that first spank Gabrielle had redirected all his attention exactly where she wanted it…on his bottom.
A second stinging slap joined the first and had Dustin worried where the next one would hit. He yelped as two smacks cracked quickly, one after the other on his sit spots. He felt his stiff member shrivel as Gabrielle spanked his upper thighs, because they were really tender and those smacks hurt.
“I bet you haven’t been in this position for a long time Dusty,” Gabrielle said. “If ever. It’s not much fun it is?”
“No, ouch, ma’am, owww!”
“Aunty Gabrielle, sweetheart,” Gabrielle reminded the boy as she continued to spank away briskly, making sure that she never landed a smack in the same place twice in a row and covered the boy’s squirming reddening mounds from the formerly white upper thighs to the upper part of his buttocks. “I’m sure this hurts, in fact I intend it to, but believe me it’s better than you ending up in emergency. I told Chelsea the same thing as she wailed under her Daddy’s strap.”
Andrea sat back, sipped her tea and enjoyed the performance. For all his reputation as a ‘tough guy’ Dustin Morris was putting on quite a show over Gabrielle Kennedy’s firm maternal lap. He wriggled and squirmed as her hand moved over his rear end with crisp stinging smacks, his legs kicked a little, and as his bottom reddened up like a blooming rose he started to gasp and cry out.
Gabrielle was an experienced and talented spanker. Her spanking right palm had been toughened by years of first babysitting, then looking after her younger sister, followed by her four offspring for whom she was the primary disciplinarian and finally by working at a shop that made it’s business that of spanking naughty male and female bottoms. These various stages of Gabrielle Kennedy’s life had allowed her to refine and sharpen her technique. She was very nearly Andrea’s equal when it came to spanking and that was something her daughter’s eighteen year-old boyfriend was finding out first hand to his eternal regret.
“Andrea,” Gabrielle said calmly, just adjusting her hold around Dustin’s waist to hold him a little more securely as his struggles were becoming rather vigorous. “Can you tell me if we’ve got any tears yet, please?”
“He’s getting close,” Andrea remarked. “I don’t think he’s turned the sprinklers on quite yet.”
The chestnut haired disciplinarian rose elegantly from her chair and her high heels clicked on the parlour’s wooden floorboards as she crossed to where Dustin was draped over Gabrielle’s thighs. She knelt gracefully in front of Dustin’s face and looked into the boy’s brown eyes. “No,” she sighed. “They’re dry as a desert.”
“I can remedy that,” Gabrielle said sternly and replied her palm with a will to the glowing bottom over her lap.
“You don’t have to be a hero, sweetie,” Andrea told the boy. “You can cry in here. Plenty of people do. One of the benefits of an old fashioned spanking is a good cry. Neither Aunty Gabrielle or I will think any less of you if you just break down and blubber. There’s nothing wrong with turning into a six year old over our laps. We expect it, we welcome it. That’s how we know the spanking is working. When your eyes and nose are streaming, you’re drooling and you’re all red in the face from yelling and crying. That’s when we know you’ve been properly spanked and are genuinely sorry for what you’ve done.”
“Is it working?” Gabrielle asked, administering a sizzling volley to Dustin’s sit spots. That got him roaring, but didn’t produce tears.
“No,” Andrea sighed. “Let me try something else.”
“Okay, but I may have to move onto the paddle if you can’t get some tears soon, Andie.”
Andrea smiled. Gabrielle was really mad at the boy. She couldn’t blame the woman. Dustin had after all endangered her daughter. Andrea fancied that the whole incident may have been a bit of a wake up call for the Kennedy matron as she had a reputation around town as a ‘lead foot’, although the strapping she had endured at the hands of local police constable and friend of the Spank Shop, Tania Wheeler, had helped cure her of that particular habit.
“Dusty, look at me, darling,” Andrea instructed. The boy opened his eyes, winced as Gabrielle landed another sizzling set of spanks on his writhing rear. “I know this seems bad, but it could have been so much worse. Imagine if things had gone wrong that night. If Constable Wheeler hadn’t shown up. Say you got into that race and you lost control of the car. What if you had gotten out of it unscathed, but Chelsea ended up in hospital. What if you weren’t over Aunty Gabrielle’s knee right now getting a richly deserved smacked bottom, but sitting by Chelsea’s hospital bed, watching her fight for her life. Would you cry then, sweetheart? Believe me, that could have been a very real consequence.”
Gabrielle concentrated a scorching rain of spanks right on Dustin’s sit spots and upper thighs. That combined with Andrea’s words achieved the desired results. The floodgates broke and the eighteen year old started to cry. He closed his eyes and tears slipped out from under his eyelids and began to slide down his face. In no time at all they gathered at his chin and began to soak the arm of the couch. Once again Andrea was thankful that Kimberley always insisted on covering the sofa arms with washable cloths for this very reason.
Gabrielle brought her hand spanking to a conclusion with two hearty slaps to the boy’s now bright red crowns. She let him lie over her lap for a moment or two and sob, then gently helped him to his feet. He stood in front of her, his head down, he wiped a forearm across his nose, earning a rich chuckle from Gabrielle and prompting Andrea to give him a tissue with the instruction, “Blow.”
Dustin blew and wiped his nose and then with his hands vigorously rubbing his scorched behind, and not caring that the two ladies could see him in all his glory, he murmured a heartfelt, “I’m sorry, Aunty Gabrielle.”
“I know you are darling, but we’re not done yet, sweetheart.”
The boy’s face fell. Andrea took Gabrielle’s place on the couch and crooked a finger at Dustin. “You didn’t know this, sweetness, but I regard Kimberley and Chelsea as family, so if you put one of them in danger it’s just like putting one of my own in that situation. You have another lap to visit, young man.”
Dustin closed his eyes and winced. He knew people who had been spanked by Andrea, at least one of them had spoken to him about the experience. She was apparently very good at what she did for a living and with a bottom that had already been tenderized by Gabrielle who was no slouch when it came to spanking, this promised to be a memorable and painful experience.
With a deep breath, the boy draped himself over Andrea’s lap. “Good boy.” She complimented him and lifted his legs and centred his glowing buttocks in her lap. “Seeing as Aunty Gabrielle has already warmed you up so well, I think we can start with a good hard fast spanking.”
That wasn’t what Dustin had wanted to hear. He saw Gabrielle’s long, slender legs walk past him and open the door that led out to the back verandah and Andrea’s well tended garden. He briefly wondered why before he bucked and jerked and howled as Andrea began her spanking.
Andrea was as good as her word, the slaps falling quick and hard. Dustin felt the tears start to fall again and could taste that his nose had begun to run all over. Andrea was lighting an absolute bonfire on his bottom. He was kicking and wriggling desperately as the slaps rang out like machinegun fire in the room.
Andrea felt that the hard and fast technique was ideal after a thorough warm up like the one Gabrielle had given the boy, especially considering that he had more to come. She ensured that every part of his bottom got a good going over. She even ordered him to open his legs so that she could heat up the inner thighs and in between his cheeks so that they would rub together and remind him of this afternoon for some time afterwards.
“My!” Gabrielle exclaimed, reentering the room and seeing the boy’s glowing buttocks over Andrea’s lap. “Is that behind as hot as it looks?”
‘Have a feel,” Andrea invited.
Dustin was glad they couldn’t see his face, because this was about the most embarrassing thing he could ever remember happening to him. He felt Gabrielle’s hand on his bottom gently and then she moved it smacking her lips as she said, “Oh, he’s just like a little stove. We could boil the kettle on those.”
“And he hasn’t even made Mrs Ebony’s acquaintance yet. Would you mind Gabrielle?”
“Of course not,” the blonde woman answered, picking something up and handing it to Andrea.
“Thank you, darling.”
From his position over Andrea’s lap Dustin was completely in the dark as to what the two ladies were talking about. He had the impression that his spanking wasn’t over, he wondered how long this afternoon was going to last, but who on earth was Mrs Ebony? Had Andrea and Gabrielle invited someone else to punish him? The boy had lived in Clarkstown all his life and he’d never heard of an Ebony family.
Gabrielle settled herself into an armchair and Dustin saw that she had a bundle of long, thin, whippy green branches in her lap and a sharp clasp knife. “I’ll just prepare these, while I watch,” she said as she began to use the knife to professionally strip and prune the branches of leaves and buds.
The young athlete’s attention was taken by feeling something cool, flat and heavy on his burning rear. “Can you feel that, darling?”
“Do you know what it is?”
Dustin shook his head. “No, Aunty Andrea.”
Andrea began to glide the object slowly and teasingly in circles over the steaming posterior in her lap. “What does it feel like?”
“Oh, I bet that’s nice, because your bottom looks really hot to me, and Aunty Gabrielle said it was roasting. Anything else?”
“Oh yes, it’s very flat. One of the many things I like about it. Other impressions, sweetness?”
“Yes, it is quite heavy. You still don’t know what it is?”
“No, Aunty Andrea.”
“I suppose this is largely new to you. Experienced spankees would know by now.”
Dustin jerked involuntarily as he felt a gentle scratching on his sensitized buttock flesh. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it was different and unexpected, his bottom was really super tender as well.
“Any ideas?” Andrea asked.
“I have a good friend called Mrs Ebony,” Andrea said, that strange scratching sensation continuing. “She’s a lovely lady, but many of my clients don’t much like her. Mrs Ebony is on your bottom now.”
Dustin was totally lost.
“You’ve never been spanked by a hairbrush, have you, Dustin?”
“Mrs Ebony is my favourite hairbrush. She’s jet black, with a big flat oval back and she’s rather heavy. She cost me a pretty penny, but she has been worth every single cent of it with all the scorching spankings she’s given. You, my boy, are about to make her acquaintance. By the time this afternoon is over she’ll have given you a very warm welcome.”
“One might even say hot,” Gabrielle added benignly, continuing to peel the branches in her lap.
Dustin threw back his head, showering Andrea with droplets of sweat from his short spiky hair, as an entirely new very intense feeling hit his rear end dead centre, some of the impact was felt keenly on both cheeks. That was followed by a stinging swat from the brush on either side of his backside. Then Andrea really went to work, moving the brush up from the boy’s scalded upper thighs, across his blazing sit spots and all over his roasting, bright scarlet bottom.
One of Dustin’s friends had a mother who spanked him with a hairbrush, all he ever said about the chastisements were that they were bad. Dustin had to agree. He had taken some heavy hits on the field and been concussed at least once, but this was worse. He tried desperately to get off Andrea’s lap, but without missing a beat, she removed one leg from under him and calmly hooked it over the back of his legs which effectively pinned him in place while she continued to diligently feed the furnace that she had turned his rump into.
Andrea kept it up until the boy’s bottom was a deep dark red and she could feel waves of heat emanating up from it and could see that it was slightly swollen and pulsated regularly under the brushes back. Dustin had gone through the various stages of a spanking, going from yelling, to kicking and had progressed to laying limply and miserably over her lap, simply sobbing as she brush continued to spank fire into his rear end.
The young man was only vaguely aware that the brush had been set aside and didn’t realize his ordeal over Andrea’s lap had come to an end until she lifted her leg and rubbed his sore bottom, massaging some feeling back into it and was speaking soothingly into his ear telling him that it was all over and he was a good boy now. Through his tears Dustin apologized profusely to her and he didn’t know why, but he actually thanked Andrea for the spanking. It just seemed like the right thing to say.
Dustin felt arms around his waist, gently helping him to his feet and became aware that it was Gabrielle who was doing it. She turned him around and looked into his face. “Aren’t we a sight?” she said softly.
The boy nodded and sniffled forlornly.
“Oh darling!” Gabrielle sighed and began to use a tissue to clean his face, wiping the tears, snot, saliva and sweat away. She disposed of the tissue and blew his nose for him as if he were a little child who couldn’t do that for himself. “I know you’re rethinking your actions sweetie, and I’m sure you’re sorry, but you do remember that Chelsea got four punishments for her part in this, don’t you?”
Chelsea’s confession about what her parents had done to her after Constable Wheeler and he left to escort him back home seemed a long time ago and Dustin had to think hard to remember it. From her account she had received two hand spankings; one from her mother and the other from her father. Gabrielle had given her the hairbrush and then Bruce had strapped her…
That thought struck Dustin like a lightning bolt. His eyes opened wide and he stared at Gabrielle. “You’re not going to strap me, are you?” he croaked.
“No, dear I’m not,” Gabrielle answered, her blue eyes cold.
“Oh God, it’s not Mr Kennedy is it, Aunty?”
Warmth reentered the woman’s eyes and a smile played across her lips before she laughed richly, “No, darling, it’s not Mr Kennedy. However do you think it’s very fair that Chelsea got four punishments and you’ve only had three, especially considering that you as the registered owner and driver of that car were far more at fault than she was?”
“I guess not, Aunty Gabrielle,” Dustin mumbled, his incredibly sore bottom twitching uncontrollably.
“You guess not?” Gabrielle asked, one blonde eyebrow arching up sharply. “There is no guessing about it, young man. It is unfair. We’re going to rectify that right now.”
“Ummmm….how Aunty Gabrielle?” Dustin asked weakly, feeling his bottom contract in anticipation of the answer.
Gabrielle pointed to the sun-bathed verandah through the glass doors. “We have to go out there first.”
“Outside, ma’am? Won’t someone see?”
“Well, it’s no concern of mine if they do, but Aunty Andrea has high fences and her neighbours are used to hearing spankings in progress.”
“I also don’t regard peeking very highly,” Andrea said in a tone that suggested there were unpleasant penalties levied on anyone unwise enough to try and peek at an overheard spanking.
“Would you mind taking him out there and getting him ready, please Andrea?” Gabrielle asked.
“Not at all,” Andrea answered, taking Dustin’s hand. “Come on, darling let’s go out and get you ready for Aunty Gabrielle to administer the final part of your punishment.”
Andrea led Dustin to the verandah rail, terribly self-conscious of his naked state. To his horror he felt his member come back to life and start to rise. “They just won’t stay down will they?” Andrea said with a smile.
“No, ma’am,” Dustin admitted, feeling his cheeks heat and colour with shames.
“You can’t help it sweetie,” Andrea reassured the embarrassed boy. “Now bend over the rail.”
Dustin stood so that his waist touched the edge of the rail and then draped himself over it.
“Lovely,” Andrea murmured. “Now grab one of the rails so that you’ve got something to hang onto and you don’t fall off. We don’t want you doing yourself a mischief.”
“Umm…what is Aunty Gabrielle going to do to me?” Dustin asked, curling his fingers around the rails as advised by Andrea.
“Have you ever been switched, Dusty?”
“You mean hit with a branch, Aunty?”
“Well, that’s a rather crude way of putting it, but that’s the essence of it.”
The boy remembered seeing those peeled branches in Gabrielle’s lap during his hand spanking and hairbrushing over Andrea’s knee and a shudder went through his body. “I got hit with rose branches as initiation into a club when I was thirteen.,” he confessed.
“Ouch!” Andrea winced. “Well, Aunty Gabrielle has taken all the leaves and buds off these ones, so it may actually hurt less than that long ago initiation.”
Dustin nodded and swallowed hard.
“Andie,” Gabrielle said to her friend and part time employer. “Can you stand around the front, please? Dusty may find it preferable to focus on you and you can keep count for me.”
“Delighted,” Andrea said with a smile, going down the steps and standing on one side of the verandah. Dustin’s face was level with hers and she could look him right in the eye. “Okay, sweetheart, just keep your eyes on my face and listen to my voice.”
“Yes, ma’am. How many?”
“Oh, that’s up to Aunty Gabrielle.”
“I haven’t quite decided yet,” Gabrielle said. “You’ll get as many as I think you need.”
Gabrielle picked up one of her switches, whipped it through the air experimentally and then slashed it across Dustin’s firm, glowing red buttocks. He howled, but kept position as Andrea counted out clearly, “One.”
Gabrielle looked at the switch and frowned. “No. I don’t like that one,” she tossed it aside and selected a different one.
“Does the stroke count, Gabrielle?” Andrea asked.
“Oh yes, it wasn’t his fault. I’m not that cruel.”
There was another screech from the boy as Gabrielle placed a second burning stripe across his sizzling rear end.
“Two,” Andrea counted loudly.
“Much better,” Gabrielle purred with a smile, drawing the switch back for a third stroke.
In reception Chelsea winced as another of her boyfriend’s blood curdling yells floated through. Other clients sitting there exchanged glum and nervous looks with each other. Dustin’s histrionics under Gabrielle’s freshly cut switch weren’t doing much for their state of mind, knowing that their bottoms too would soon be at the mercy of Andrea and Gabrielle.
“He’s certainly got a set of lungs,” Kimberley said benignly, as she updated a client’s details on her records.
“What is Aunty doing to him, Kim?” Chelsea asked weakly.
“I think that’s Mum, Chel’,” Kimberley advised her sister.
“How can you tell?”
“Mainly because I know what they had planned and I’m going by how long he’s been in there. If I’m not mistaken he’s not even in the parlour. Those yells are coming from the verandah.”
“Is she murdering him, Miss Kimberley?” another client ventured politely.
The comment got peals of delighted laughter from the stunning blonde receptionist. “No Charlie, although I bet he thinks she is. I can’t hear the sound of a paddle or a strap, I think he’s being switched.”
“By Mum?” Chelsea asked weakly, all the colour draining from her face.
Kimberley nodded her golden head.
“You’re lucky that didn’t happen to you, miss!” Kimberley scolded her younger sister.
“I got strapped by Daddy!” the younger girl said hotly.
“And you deserved it. I warned you about Dustin Morris and you were brought home by a police officer after curfew for having been involved in a dangerous and illegal street race.”
Chelsea’s face turned red from her throat to the tips of her ears as Kimberley broadcast the information to anyone within earshot.
“Twelve,” Andrea sang out.
Dustin sobbed and his hands tightened again around the rails.
Gabrielle stepped back and regarded the livid raised weals and stripes on her victim’s backside. She nodded and placed the switch on the small table.
“Done?” Andrea asked.
“To a turn,” Gabrielle replied.
Andrea nodded and said to Dustin, “It’s over sweetheart. You took them very well and Aunty is very proud of you.”
“Thank you Aunty Andrea,” the young man blubbered. “I’m sorry for what I did with Chelsea, Aunty Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle accepted the apology and seated herself one of the cane chairs Andrea had on her back verandah. A look passed between the two ladies and Andrea disappeared into the parlour.
“Dustin,” Gabrielle said, pitching her voice up a little to be heard over the boy’s sobbing. “Can you please stand up and come to Aunty, darling. Do not rub your bottom, either, young man.”
Dustin shuffled over to Gabrielle, trying to ignore the stinging and burning coming from his rear end and holding his hands over his groin to shield it from Gabrielle’s view and so that he wouldn’t be tempted to rub his backside. Gabrielle looked up into his face and used a tissue to clean the tears, saliva and snot away. She patted her lap in an indication that the boy was to place himself back over it. Dustin’s eyes widened and he started to beg not to be spanked anymore. Gabrielle sighed. “Dustin, did Aunty say she was going to spank you?”
“No, I did not. I did however give you a non-verbal command to get over my lap. I don’t like being disobeyed, young man. I am only going to say this once and if you do not do as you are told I will ask Miss Andrea to bring The Igniter out here.”
Dustin’s mind went back to a conversation he had once had with Chelsea. Apparently one of Andrea’s most feared weapons was a thick, medium sized black strap that was known as The Igniter for what it did to the bottoms it was used on. He definitely didn’t want to encounter the strap after his dual hand spankings, hairbrushing and that switching.
“Over my lap, please, dear,” Gabrielle said, a note of command entering her voice.
On trembling legs and with his bottom twitching and tingling uncontrollably Dustin draped himself over Gabrielle’s firm thighs. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she asked in honeyed tones.
“No, ma’am,” Dustin croaked.
“No, it wasn’t,” Gabrielle agreed, her palms gliding over the inflamed crimson moons nestled in her lap.
Andrea came back onto the verandah. “They look so adorable like this,” she said approvingly. She set a bowl of cool water, towels, cotton balls, cold cream and lotion on the table within Gabrielle’s reach.
“I don’t often do this,” Gabrielle admitted to Andrea. “However in this case I think Dustin could use a little comfort.”
Andrea nodded and settled herself into another cane chair, where she could relax and enjoy the show.
Gabrielle slapped a generous handful of cold cream onto Dustin’s bottom. He stiffened with shock as the cooling cream reacted with his superheated buttocks, but then sighed with relief as Gabrielle massaged it in gently.
Gabrielle frowned as she felt a stiffening member press against her thigh insistently. She soaked some cotton balls in water and used them to wipe away the left over cold cream and this had the effect of giving the soundly spanked buttocks in her lap a glistening look, they were also wet. Feeling the boy’s physical excitement Gabrielle raised her hand and gave both shining scarlet cheeks a healthy slap. The stinging blows got loud ouches from the boy and doused his ardour.
Gabrielle poured a pool of lotion into one cupped palm and then drizzled it over Dustin’s backside. She competently rubbed it in and felt the boy relax and settle into her lap. Again she used cotton balls with soothing cool water to clean the boy’s rear and wipe away the excess grease. She used a towel to pat him dry and then told him that he could get up. He stood meekly in front of the tall blonde lady, and he had now stopped crying. “Thank you Aunty Gabrielle.”
“My pleasure, darling. Now why don’t you sit on Aunty’s lap for a cuddle before getting dressed and apologizing to Chelsea for what you put her through. I’ll even let you give her a kiss, on the cheek, mind you, because it will be the last time you see her outside of school for the next fortnight.”
As Dustin rested his head on Gabrielle’s shoulder and wriggled his steaming buttocks into her comfortable, maternal lap, he made a decision to modify his behaviour, especially when it came to driving and that it could have been much worse. He’d be thanking Constable Wheeler for taking the action that she did at his earliest chance to do so.