The following story is fiction about a parents and neighbor girls spanking a boy. The story contains scenes of spanking. If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
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My mother stopped spanking me when I was seven-years-old. I did not get off scot free for I now was Dad's responsibility. "You are growing up, son," he said, "and it is time I started spanking you rather than your mother." I felt good about that.
Well, only until I was in trouble again. Then I learnt that Dad spanked a lot harder than Mom had. Much was the same. I was still small and Dad easily pulled my pants down and flipped me over his lap and spanked me with his big hard hand until I was bawling like that little kid I was not supposed to be anymore. It was confusing. But especially as I got older it was nicer. Dad always did it in private and not in front of others like Mom had. My friends also got spanked and we talked about it.
Then there was the terrible accident and we had to bury Mother. I was heart broken but apparently survived. After a year, Dad remarried and I had a stepmother, Mrs. Rudeseal. She kept her name which was strange. Stranger yet was that Dad stopped spanking me and she took over. She insisted that I was just a little boy and so until I grew up I was her responsibility. I did not like this but Dad agreed with her so I had to accept it.
* * * * * * * * * *
A few months after she moved in things had changed so that I had come to think of house and home as Spanking Central as I was over my stepmother's lap so often. It did not take very much to cause my stepmom to lower my pants, pull me over her lap and turn my bottom bright red. She had been doing this to me since I was ten-years-old and it was continuing even now that I was fourteen.© YLeeCoyote
From the beginning she did not have any respect for my modesty for it did not matter if others were about. I got spanked frequently with an audience be it my friends or hers. I had decided it was not so bad that my friends saw for they also got spanked and I had watched them. It was sort of a trade and they had the same body parts as me. I very much hated it when it was my stepmother's friends – old ladies – who watched intently and rudely stared at my private parts surely making comparisons and judgements.
I had spoken to my father about this but that had not helped any. It was more than a year before I understood why. One night I had to get up to pee and heard the all too familiar sound of spanks. I slipped down the hall on tippy-toes being careful to be as quiet as a mouse to the door of my parents' room and looked through the keyhole. It was quite a shock. My naked father was over my stepmother's lap getting his bare bottom roasted by her hairbrush. His bottom was red-hot exactly like mine got when I was spanked. She was calling him a naughty boy and he was saying: "I'm sorry." and "I'll be good, dear." also just like I did when I was being spanked.
Obviously, she was in charge. I lost a lot of respect for my father then. Maybe this is what she had in mind when she said: "The only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys." which I overheard when she was talking with her laughing friends.
Once I became a teen, I started to change although my stepmother did not notice nor care for the spankings continued exactly as before. Well, there was one difference – they were more embarrassing. Some of the old ladies actually noticed changes in me and mentioned them. I wished that I could disappear into a great big abyss.
I also started to notice girls were interesting. The other half of our two-family house had two of them. Laura Lacer was a year and her sister Tasha two years younger than I. I also noticed how they were changing and obviously at a younger age which made me a bit jealous. There was something about Tasha that I found super attractive so that I had a crush on her. Alas, it was not reciprocated for neither of them liked me.
The two girls over the years had witnessed a lot of stuff I wished that they had not. There had been times when I had come home very messy and my stepmother made me to strip completely on the back porch so as not to bring the mess inside. I even had to remove my underpants and the two girls would giggle and giggle. First at my undies complete with a stupid rhyme and then at my little boyhood. A few times they had watched me getting spanked in the backyard. They probably even watched through the window a few times when I got spanked inside.
* * * * * * * * * *
On one faithful day, a new horror sudden befell me. I got home and found that my stepmom was having tea with Mrs. Lacer of the other half of the duplex. This was not unusual at all. I greeted them appropriately respectfully (i.e., exactly to my stepmother specifications) and quickly learnt that I was due a spanking for not doing my chores before going out. I had long ago learnt that to complain was useless and usually counter productive and that it was best to submit to the punishment immediately.
My stepmom moved her chair away from the table and I stood before her as usual. The lecture was brief for she did not believe in them but in spankings. Deafly, thanks to years of experience, she rapidly opened my belt and jeans and lowered them exposing my tightie-white briefs. I had asked repeatedly for more modern underwear styles as all the other guys wore but had been refused and condemned to little boys' t-w's. Then even those were lowered exposing me once again.
Over her lap I went and she gripped me tightly. I got a rapid fire spanking from her hand. One would expect that a teen boys' bottom would be tougher than a woman's hand but said hand was well experienced and leathery from delivering many spankings. There were a few spanks and then promises and pleads in respond to the multiplicity of hard spanks. Tears came soon after she started to use her hairbrush. The whacks from that quickly convinced me that chores came first although I knew that I would not remember all the time if past experiences were predictive.
The new horror came before I stated to cry. Mrs. Lacer asked about her daughters watching so that they could learn how to spank the boys they babysat. The answer was frightening. "Of course. It absolutely necessary that they learn to do that. Not only may they watch but they should have some practical experience so my naughty little Quinn will be over their laps."
Mrs. Lacer was most happy with that response for it went much further than she had expected. I, on the other hand, was naturally aghast. The girls were younger and would see my junk and butt and even spank me. That most certainly was not right. They would probably even boast about doing it to their friends and I would be the object of ridicule. Any hope of impressing Tasha would be gone for what girl would want a guy she spanked like a mother for a boyfriend or even a boy friend?
Then I started to cry and soon this spanking was over. Most unfortunately, the big nightmare was just beginning.
I could not help thinking of the horrors when I was in bed. I knew that my junk was normal size but would the girls expect otherwise. Would they laugh at me? Would I get hard? Would I shrink up in embarrassment?
* * * * * * * * * *
It was just three days later that I brought home an unacceptable test report – the big red F was almost two inches (five cm) tall. I was in the corner immediately. Then my stepmom made a phone call. "Mrs. Lacer, Quinn is due a spanking for a failing test. Would the young ladies like their first lesson now?" I knew that they were home for they had been on the school bus with me.
There was a pause. I also knew that they would come as fast as they could and I did not need to hear the rest of the telephone conversation planning my doom. In just two minutes the bell rang and Mrs. Lacer and her two grinning and eager daughters were, most unfortunately, here.
They immediately said two things. First, "Thanks" and then "Oh, the naughty boy is in the corner." They certainly were anxious to learn to spank and thus humiliate me.
Then it was into the family room for the lesson. My stepmom sat in the middle of the couch with an eager acolyte on each side. Mrs. Lacer stood behind. I was blushing before anything even got started.
I was positioned in front of my stepmom and given a quick lecture that failing a test is unacceptable, that I must study hard and was getting a spanking. "It's often best to be sure that the boy's hands are out of the way." she explained. "Put your hands on your head Quinn and keep them there." Now I felt even more vulnerable.
Next she opened my belt and jeans and yanked them down. Laura immediately commented that she thought all the boys now wore boxers. "Only the grown up ones, my dear." said my stepmom, "He won't be ready for them for years yet."
«Yeah that's because she wouldn't let me have them.» I thought but wise enough not to say it out loud.
Then the top outrage happened for she next pulled my tightie-whites down like I was four rather than fourteen. Both girls got their first close up view of my junk and I could do nothing about it nor did I get anything in return. They saw everything! I nearly fainted from the embarrassment.
When I got over her lap, the girls also had me over their laps. One held my legs and the other my head. (I would have loved my head in her lap in other circumstances.) They held me place as my stepmom spanked and explained details. Both girls even felt my butt cheeks to compare temperature and commented on the color change. They each even gave me a few spanks. She next demonstrated the vicious hairbrush. The greater effect was obvious.
It was absolutely weird listening to my stepmom explaining details to the girls as I felt the spanks. She had all the damn fucking details right. How a swat one place would make me jump more with pain than some other places. How I was turning red. How I my butt flexed. It was positively scary. Of course, I knew that she was a master (perhaps better to say, a mistress) of spanking because of all the times she had reduced me to a blubbering baby. Now the girls would know too and my instincts told me that they would get the opportunity to use it even after the lessons were done. They were so eager that would make up for the lack of experience which they would acquire practicing on me. Not happy thoughts at all.
When it's your turn, girls, I want you to use it for effect was the instruction. I was surprised when I was told to get up before I was crying. I could not remember a time before when she did not make that happen. However, that was just a pause to change the seating arraignments so as to have Laura in the center of the coach and now I was standing in front of her fully exposed. The spanking was not over but the girls would continue it. I was told to pull up my pants.
It started all over with Laura taking down my pants and briefs. If she had missed anything before she surely could see it now. Of course, all the females were smiling a lot, especially the two girls. When I got over Laura's lap, my stepmom explained how my weight could and should be supported by the couch so that I would not fall and it would be easier to hold me in place.
Laura was having a great time as she started to spank me – the boy she did not like. Of course, her hand was not up to the task but with the aid of the hairbrush she saw she could make an impression on me. I reacted to each and every whack and my tail surely got redder. That probably gave her the impetus to whack harder and I vocalized the greater induced pain to her great satisfaction. I would have bet that she was sure that she would get top grades in this course.
My stepmom stopped her before I was crying and said it was Tasha's turn. She had me get up, redress and the process started anew with Tasha as the spanker.
* * * * * * * * * *
I could hardly believe that this was really happening. Fantastically, mom had gotten Mrs. Rudeseal to teach Laura and me how to spank boys and even provided her own jerk of a stepson, Quinn, to practice on. We have known that he was spanked for a long time and have even witnessed some when he was younger. Today is really different, however, for Mrs. Rudeseal demonstrated how to do it with us watching openly. Laura had just finished her practical lesson and now it's my turn. I must admit that my heart is racing.
Of course, I've already seen him with his pants down. He is two years older than I and he does not even have half the pubic hair that I have. I guess that means that he closer to being a boy than a man. That he still gets spanked OTK by his stepmom says he is pretty immature. Some of my friends' older brothers get spanked but by their fathers and with belts and paddles while bending over on their own rather than being held. I guess that he must be a wimp as well.
I start by telling him that he must study and quickly get to the fun part. I open his belt and jeans and yank them down giving me a good close up of his dick and balls covered by his babyish briefs. It is absolutely fantastic to yank those down. I'll bet he did not like that but he did not have a choice since he failed his test. I see his penis and balls up close which I saw a little while ago. I get him over my lap with his head in Laura's lap. His already rosy, naughty bottom is right in front of me. It is now mine to spank. I an really enjoying doing all this.
I give Quinn's bottom a few spanks with my hand and quickly learn that his butt is hard and my hand soft. The idea is nice but I quickly switch to the more effective and practical hairbrush. The first whack proves how different it is. It does not hurt me but Quinn reacts strongly to the pain it inflicts. I even see the oval outline on his already reddish bottom.
"That's very good, Tasha. Keep WHACKING him until he knows that he been well spanked." encouraged Mrs. Rudeseal.
I follow her instructions and I whack away hard and fast. She tells me to go slower as it more effective. Over and over I whacked Quinn's increasing red bottom. He makes noises from the pain and to my great delight he starts to sob. I immediately wonder if I can make him cry.
I increase my effort to hit harder and it definitely works. He is having more trouble taking it. I am relentless and then triumphantly successful. He's crying like a baby. Mrs. Rudeseal stops me after a few more whacks and I send him to the corner.
I'll never forget this first time for the rest of my life. I'll bet he never forgets this spanking either but will remember it with shame, rather than pride, how a younger girl spanking him over her lap made him cry like a baby.
* * * * * * * * * *
While I stand with my nose in the corner and my butt aflame, the females talk but I can't listen because the pain in my ass is so great. Surely they are planing something that I will not like. I can't believe how hard Laura whacked me and pushed me over the edge so I was really crying.
And that was just their first lesson.
Before they leave, I stop crying and my stepmom calls me from the corner. First I'm required to thank the girls for spanking me to help encourage me to study more. (They should be apologizing to me for doing that but I if I said that I would surely be spanked again.)
The girls tell me that "You're most welcome, Quinn." Then Tasha adds: "Anytime you are too busy, Mrs. Rudeseal to spank this naughty boy, I'm available to deal with him." My stepmom is delighted.
My heart sinks for now I am certainly doomed.
© Copyright A.I.L. December 31, 2017
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/SpankingLessons.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023