“Mrs Dawson” on F/M Spanking Sunday

“Randy” a/k/a “Sarah 3333” was a prolific writer of F/M spanking fiction back in the days of USENET. He hasn’t been active for at least ten years as far as I know. This story appears to be a fairly early one, as it required a good deal of copy editing. I have taken the liberty of adding additional text as well. A critique one might level at Randy’s storytelling style is his propensity for a big build-up with no follow-through in the action scene, so I’ve attempted to remedy that just a bit.

Mrs Dawson     by Randy

After graduating from high school, Jimmy Fenner got a summer job
as a English composition tutor at Raleigh Bible School, a
Christian private school in a suburb of Raleigh, North Carolina.
Since Jimmy could not afford a car, he was delighted when his
best friend, Billy Dawson invited him to live in the Dawson home
for the summer. The Dawsons lived just five miles from Raleigh
Bible School and Mrs Dawson had offered to drive Billy to work
every morning in exchange for helping with chores around the
home. With a ten acre estate, a husband away six months a year
as a Navy Officer, and just one child, Amanda Dawson needed all
the help she could get.

Jimmy’s mother died when he was young. Although his father
raised him to respect authority, avoid lying, and work hard in
school, he was a busy man absorbed in his work and did not spend
that much time with his son. As an only child, Jimmy had grown
up as a shy, bookish sort whose small physique kept him off the
playing fields and away from the normal social activities of
growing boys. In some ways, Billy Dawson was the last person
Jimmy had ever expected as a best friend. He was handsome,
outgoing, and athletic, and one of the most popular boys in
high school. Much of Jimmy’s larger social life with his peers
had come through Billy who seemed to understand Jimmy’s shyness
and made a point of inviting him along on adventures and group
outings whenever possible. Billy had even encouraged Lizzie
Wilson to give Jimmy his first kiss, at the late age of sixteen.
While the whole experience had been awkward and embarrassing for
Jimmy, especially when Lizzie immediately sensed his complete
inexperience, it was one of the many gestures from Billy which
had cemented his friendship with Jimmy.

The fact that he was going to spend the whole summer with his
best friend was almost too good to be true. The prospect of a
summer at the Dawson household was even more delicious because
Jimmy had long harbored a secret crush on Amanda Dawson. In many
ways, he fancied her a kind of second mother. Like her son, she
recognized Jimmy’s good qualities beneath his painful shyness
and had always made him feel like a welcome member of her home.
In recent years, Jimmy’s boyish crush on Mrs. Dawson had become
more complicated as the shy youngster passed through puberty and
began noticing the enticing, plump maternal figure of his best
friend’s mother. Filled out with age, Mrs. Dawson’s hour glass
figure had simply become more voluptuous in Jimmy’s eye. In the
middle of his senior year, he had even snuck into Mrs. Dawson’s
dresser when visiting for a weekend and examined her brassieres
with trembling hands. Using the size tag of 44DD as a fixed
number, Jimmy estimated Mrs. Dawson’s measurements at 44-34-46.
Whenever he found anyone like this in the girlie magazines he
examined obsessively as his only sexual outlet, he always
masturbated with an extra intensity, imagining it was Mrs.


As it turned out, the best part of the summer was the fact that
Mrs. Dawson drove Jimmy to his job every morning at 8:30 and
picked him up again at 2:30. That left almost two and a half
hours of free time five days a week with Mrs. Dawson back before
she had to leave to pick Billy up at his summer job in a
nearby hardware store. Every day, in addition to those two rides
in the car, Billy had half the afternoon to please Mrs. Dawson
by doing chores and to sit with her and chat about every
imaginable subject. Under her care, Jimmy felt none of his
normal shyness and opened up in a variety of ways. Even before
the summer started, he had long entertained fantasizes of being
adopted by Mrs. Dawson.
By the middle of the second week, Jimmy had made it clear
by his eagerness to take care of any chore or request
immediately that service to Mrs. Dawson was the most rewarding
thing in his life. He felt like one of the knights who served a
great lady in court which he had read about in English class and
sometimes put on a show of chivalric manners and language to
entertain and flatter Mrs. Dawson. For example, he would agree
to her many little requests by saying, “Yes, Lady Dawson, I’ll
tend to that right away” or refer to himself as “your humble
vassal”. He also started telling her he wished he could stay on
permanently “so I can enjoy your great cooking”. That, and his
chivalric courtesies, were as close as Jimmy could get to telling
her he loved her. And to his great delight, she seemed to
understand exactly what he meant. She even encouraged him
sometimes by referring to herself as “Lady Amanda”.
All went well until Jimmy lost his senses and got caught
spying on his beloved just like one of the characters in a
medieval romance. Every night at 9:00, Mrs. Dawson retired to
her room where she took a bath in the attached bathroom. She
then dressed in her nightgown, donned a bathrobe, and checked
the house over before retiring for the night. Since Jimmy had
become an extended member of the family years before, it was not
unusual for Mrs. Dawson to walk around the house in her nightie
and bathrobe. While he had never paid any special attention to
her before, it was very different that summer. For one, her
summer bathrobe was made of light, pink cotton which flowed
softly against he with every step that she took. And glimpses of
a sheer white fabric appeared at the neck of the bathrobe and
sometimes at the legs when her stride opened the bathrobe
slightly in front. Transfixed by the sight, Jimmy made sure he
was always up and in the living room around 9:30 when Mrs.
Dawson came down to check the front door and say good night to
the boys.

At the end of the third week of his stay, Billy went away
on Thursday evening for a long weekend with one of his cousins, leaving his mother behind.
Jimmy stayed behind with Mrs. Dawson.
That night, when Mrs. Dawson retired to take her bath at
9:00, Jimmy put a plan into operation which he had been
considering for weeks. All the bedroom doors in the Dawson house
had glass transoms over them. Since the guest room where Billy
slept was just down the hall, it was an easy matter to move a
chair from his room to a spot outside Mrs. Dawson’s door where
he could peek into her bedroom. He had already tried it once
when no one was around, just to see if it was feasible and to see
if the floor would creak.

The possibility of seeing Mrs Dawson put on her nighty or in her
nighty before putting on her bathrobe began haunting Jimmy every
night as he masturbated in bed, safe in the privacy of the
Dawson’s guest room.
And so that night, after Mrs. Dawson retired at nine o’clock sharp, Billy
made sure he was already in his room, writing a letter to his
father. He waited until he heard the sound of the running bath
water and the swirling of the water as Mrs. Dawson bathed before
slipping out of his room, his heart pounding, as he carried a
chair along the silent, carpeted floor to Mrs. Dawson’s door. He
waited there, on the chair, peeking in as the quiet splashing
sounds continued from the distant bathroom. Finally, he heard
the water draining as the moment he had been imagining for two
weeks approached. By then, Jimmy’s heart pounded as if it were
about to burst and his left hand busied itself inside the fly of
his pajamas bottoms. For a second, he realized the sheer folly
of his situation and thought seriously about retreating. But
just as he was about to listen to the voice of sense, Amanda
Dawson walked into her bedroom from her bathroom wearing only
towel wrapped around her upper torso. She paused lazily before
her vanity table, picked up a hairbrush, and began brushing her
long black hair for a few minutes. She then put the hairbrush
down and with a simple gesture, let the towel slip to the chair
beside her. Jimmy gasped quietly at his first glimpse of a naked
Amanda Dawson. Seen from behind, her big hips and round,
curving, milky white bottom made Jimmy’s erection reach an
instant hardness he had never known. Reflected in the big mirror
of her vanity table was her front, including her huge, pink-
nippled breasts and a mysterious black forest at the V of her
thighs. The view did not last long for she immediately picked up
a nightie lying over the vanity chair and slipped it over her
head. Fortunately, the sheer nightie did not cover Mrs. Dawson
completely. Though her magnificent body was now heavily veiled,
it looked even more lovely than ever with the soft, sheer fabric
caressing every full, jiggling curve. After straightening her
hair, Mrs. Dawson vanished into the bathroom leaving Jimmy to
wonder if he should stay for another glimpse or beat a safe
retreat. Desire got the better of him and he stayed on, hoping
for another glimpse before she put on her bathrobe.


And that was Jimmy’s undoing. A few seconds later, Mrs. Dawson suddenly
emerged from the bathroom wearing her robe and coming straight
for the outer door. Panicked by her sudden appearance and direction,
Jimmy jumped off his chair, banging it slightly against the wall
next to Mrs. Dawson’s door. Scooping it up, he began a dash down
the hallway to his bedroom, a mere seven yards away. But alerted
by the little noise of the chair, Amanda Dawson moved quickly to
her bedroom door and opened it in time to see Jimmy vanishing
into his room with his desk chair.
“Young man, don’t you dare take another step.”
The commanding tone of her voice was something Jimmy had
never heard before and he froze, his face a mask of panic and
fear as he turned.
“Put that chair down right there, where you are, and come
back here, young man!”
Once again, the tone of voice left no room to maneuver,
Jimmy quickly put the chair down and returned down the hall,
doing his best to hide the bulge in his pajamas.
“Young man, I am only going to ask you once and I expect
the truth, otherwise you will be in very serious trouble. What
were you doing with that chair?”
By then, Jimmy was beside himself in confusion, his mind
reeling as he searched for some plausible explanation. He
stammered for a few moments before replying,
“I … I was just … I was just returning this chair to my
room from Billy’s room. I moved it in there earlier to watch his
TV and I was taking it back.”
“Do you expect me to believe that, young man. You were just
at that very chair writing a letter when I came upstairs for my
bath. I think you were using that chair to spy on me through the
transom, weren’t you, young man. I meant what I said when I
warned you about lying.
“Really, Mrs. Dawson, I’m not lying, I swear I’m not.”
“Well than, how did those marks get there on the carpet?”
As she pointed downward, Jimmy suddenly noticed four neat round
impressions in the hall carpet alongside Mrs. Dawson’s door.
“Bring that chair here right this instant, young man.”
Jimmy started shaking visibly but complied. As he reached
Mrs. Dawson, she seized the chair from him and placed it
directly into the four depressions in the carpet. It was a
perfect fit and Jimmy knew the game was up.

“James Fenner, I am extremely disappointed in you. Not only
have you been peeping on me like a little school boy but you
have lied about it right to my face. I have no choice but to
your father, tell him about this deplorable episode, and have
him take you home at his earliest convenience. I cannot allow
someone who peeps and lies to continue living in my home as a
guest. Unfortunately, I will also have to give Billy a full
explanation. I am very disappointed in you, young man. I never
expected this kind of behavior from you of all people.”
As her words sank in, Jimmy realized the enormity of his
mistake. Not only would he have to forfeit his summer job but he
would be disgraced before his father and his best friend. His
friendship with Billy would probably end and he would never
again visit the Dawsons. Before he could do anything, his eyes
flooded with hots tears and he began weeping right in front of
Mrs. Dawson.
“Ooooohhhh God … ooooohhhhhh my Godddddd … I’m so sorry
Mrs Dawson, ooohhhhhh … I didn’t mean to do this … I don’t
know what happened … oooohhhhh my God …. ooooh my dear God
… pleeeeease don’t tell my father or Billy .. pleeeease …
give me another chance! PLEEEEASE! … my job … my summer job
… what will my father say … …. Ooohhhhhhh noooo … ooh
Within half a minute, Jimmy dissolved into the kind of
sobbing normally seen in younger children. Oblivious to his
appearance, he vented his shame in a choking, chest-heaving
crying, his face buried in his hands.
Surprised at the depth of his regret, Mrs. Dawson’s maternal
instincts and fondness for Jimmy got the better of her and she
instinctively gathered him into her arms. Sensing a new spirit
of mercy, he buried himself in her ample bosom and began crying
even harder, his whole body shaking as he apologized over and
over and begged her not to tell his father or make him go home.
Mrs. Dawson held him tightly for a few minute, letting him
cry it all out while stroking his head.
“Shussssshhhhh, ssshhhhhh, Jimmy, it’s not as bad as you
think. Maybe we can find another way to handle this. Leave it to
Aunt Amanda. Perhaps I can handle this myself. Stop your crying,
child. You’re not the first boy to do something bad and you
won’t be the last. Now dry those eyes. We have a lot of talking
to do.”
She continued to stroke his head while holding his face
close to her. Eventually, her reassurances helped Jimmy get his
crying under control.
The grandfather clock sounded from the living room
downstairs and Jimmy realized they had been talking non-stop for
almost an hour. By now, the tears had dried up, though
Jimmy remained emotional as if he was still capable of bursting
into tears.
After a long pause, Mrs. Dawson stroked the side of Jimmy’s
face, looked him straight in the eye and said,
“Jimmy, I’m glad we had a chance to have this talk. I only
wish we had had the opportunity earlier, before any of this
happened. After listening to everything you have told me, I
think I was wrong to say I was going to call your father and
send you home. It’s clear to me what you really need is the kind
of maternal love and discipline your dear mother provided when
you were young and which you haven’t had for the last ten years.
This wouldn’t have happened had your mother been alive, would
it, Jimmy?”
A single tear welled up in Jimmy’s left eye and trickled
down his cheek as he nodded and dabbed at himself with a new
“No, I didn’t think so, child. I didn’t think so. She would
have raised you better than this and taught you to mind when you
misbehaved. How did your father handle you after your mother
died when you were bad, Jimmy?”
“He … he just yelled at me, Mrs. Dawson … or he took
away my allowance or grounded me for a few days.”
“That’s what I thought, Jimmy. You never got the normal
parental love and discipline every boy needs to grow up
properly. With your permission, I am willing to take care of
this unfortunate turn of events instead of reporting it to your
father and sending you home. If you agree to let me handle you
my way, we will keep everything between the two of us so you
needn’t worry about Billy, or my husband for that matter.”
“Oh Mrs. Dawson, do you mean it? Would you give me another
chance and not tell my father and Billy? Oh Mrs. Dawson, thank
you, thank you! Oh my God, thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet, young man. I said I was willing to
handle this myself but only if you agree to accept whatever
punishment I deem appropriate. Are you prepared to let me punish
you myself, young man?”
“Oh yes, I’ll do anything if you give me another chance. I
promise I will.”
“If you agree, young man, it means I will not hesitate to
punish you again this summer, as long as you are living in my
“Oh Mrs. Dawson, any punishment would be better than losing
my job and ruining things with Billy and with my father. I’ll do
an extra five hours a week of chores for the rest of the summer
… anything you ask.”
“That’s not what I had in mind, Jimmy. Extra chores never
taught a bad boy a lesson. You can stay with the same chores as
now. I have in mind a more traditional method of punishment
which is much more effective, especially with someone who is
acting half his age. Now give me a hug so I know we have an
agreement. I intend to punish you thoroughly for peeping and
lying to me but only because you need a very firm reminder of
how to behave in my home. Do you understand, Jimmy?”
Jimmy was starting to look nervous but threw himself into
her arms once again, grateful that Mrs. Dawson had showed her
usual understanding and forgiveness.
Gently breaking off the hug, Mrs. Dawson took Jimmy’s chin
in her hand and looked him right in the eyes. Her eyes were
loving and stern all at once and his heart melted even more.
“Young man, we both know you have been very, very bad
tonight, haven’t you?”
Jimmy nodded as his eyes watered once again.
“It’s bad enough when any boy peeps or lies but it’s
particularly unacceptable with someone your age. It’s the kind
of thing I would expect from a small child, not a big boy like
you, Jimmy.”
Again Jimmy nodded as a fat tear finally fell hotly down the
right side of his face right onto Mrs. Dawson’s hand.
“This is the kind of mischief one gets from a small child
lacking in normal parental supervision. You may be a big boy who
has just graduated from high school, Jimmy, but you’ve shown me
tonight what a small child you still are in some ways, haven’t
The single tear became a steady trickle as Jimmy nodded yet
“What do you think mommies and aunties do to bad little
children when they misbehave, Jimmy? Humm? What do mommies and
aunties do to small children when they misbehave? What do you
think the best remedy is for a big boy who acts like small
child, who peeps in on me in my bedroom and then lies about it?
It’s been a long time since you received the kind of discipline
every child needs from his mother. And that’s exactly what I am
going give you tonight, little man, a good dose of old
fashioned, maternal discipline. And not just tonight, young man.
Peeping and lying are very serious offenses which deserve a
thorough punishment. You are going to be punished every day for
the next week for what you did, do you understand?
“Please, Mrs. Dawson, please … I promise it will never
happen again.”
“I know it’s not going to happen again, Jimmy, but only
because you are going to learn a very good lesson from me once a
day for the next week. A naughty boy who peeps and lies right to
my face is not going to get off with one reminder. For the rest
of the summer, I am going to handle you exactly the way I would
handle anyone who acts like a ten year old in my house and
breaks my rules.”

Then, looking him straight in the eye, she made the shocking pronouncement:
“ Jimmy, I am going to take down your pants and
underpants and bare your bottom and put you over my knee like
the naughty little boy you are and give you an old fashioned,
sound spanking. A good dose of maternal discipline is what all
naughty children need more than anything else. And that goes for
older children too when they behave like school boys. A good
spanking when a child misbehaves is the best way to set things
straight and teach a good lesson. And that’s what you are going
to get in a few minutes, a sound spanking on your bare fanny.”


Jimmy gaped at her, wide-eyed. But she wasn’t done.

“And for the next six days, I am going to take you into your
bedroom and give you another good spanking as soon as I get you
home from your summer job. I will then put you to bed for a
punishment nap until I come and get you up at 4:30. Since Billy
doesn’t get home til after 5:00, he will never know. It will be
our little secret.”
At the first mention of the word spanking, Jimmy began
crying softly, all too aware that he was responsible for his
predicament and that a week of spankings, as awful as that was,
was infinitely better than being sent home in disgrace and
losing his job. Still, the thought of a spanking was deeply
embarrassing, especially because he knew he had behaved like a
child and because she knew it even better than he.
“Please, Mrs. Dawson, I’m too old to be spanked. Can’t you
think of some other way to punish me?”

“You may think you are too old, young man, but you are about
to find out just how mistaken you are on that point. Had your
mother not died, you would have been spanked right through your
mid-teens judging by what you told me a few moments ago. It’s
clear that traditional, loving maternal discipline and
supervision are the single most important thing you have been
missing for the past ten years. And I intend to make sure you
get a healthy dose of it for the next week. Once I turn you
turned over my knee with your pants down, you will feel a lot
more like a child learning a valuable lesson than a big boy. If
anyone ever needed a good spanking, it is you, young man, and
that’s exactly what you are going to get. “


“Now please stand up so
I can get you ready. If you give me any trouble, and I do mean
ANY trouble, young man, I will simply call off our agreement and
telephone your father. You have been caught red handed and have
agreed to let me handle this the way I know best. Now you’re
going to be a big boy about this and take your spankings like a
man, not a little baby.

Up you go, right now … that right …
stand right there with your hands to the side. Don’t you dare
move your hands or interfere, young man, of you will get a
second week of spankings. What you probably need is a whole
summer of regular bottom warmings to make up for all the ones
you have missed.”

As she continued to scold and regress, Mrs. Dawson’s hands
quickly undid Jimmy’s sneakers and pulled them off, followed by
his socks. Next came his belt and fly, before she tugged his
jeans down to his ankles and removed them entirely. She slapped
his hands away when he tried to cover up in front, and told him
he had just earned an extra day of spanking. Then, while he
still stood there, tears flowing down his face, she completed
his humiliation by pulling his white jockey shorts down to his
knees. The worst part was the partial erection which greeted her
attentive eye.

As he stood there, quietly crying, she began scolding him
all over, telling him why he needed to be spanked and why she
would take pleasure in getting him back on the right track.
“You have a full fanny, young man, which seems made to take
a good spanking. And believe me, before I let you up tonight,
you will indeed be a very well spanked, tearful little boy who
has learned a lesson he won’t forget for some time.”
Finally, she took him over her knee, her bathrobe opening
up somewhat as he slid over so that his loins rested directly on
her warm, soft, very full thighs. She continued to scold,
rubbing circles over his round buttocks, patting and squeezing
and telling him how spankable he was and how she intended to
spank him each and every time he did anything wrong for the rest
of the summer. He was silent when she asked if he had any
objections and both of them knew she had won and that the next
week of spankings would not be the last time he would go over
her knee that summer.


Smack! Smack! Smack! Mrs Dawson’s palm landed in succession. The sting took Jimmy’s breath away. He’d had no idea. It hurt! A blazing hot sensation.
After the first spanks landed, and Mrs Dawson fell into a
practiced ryhthm, Jimmy gave way to years of pent up feelings
and began crying like he had earlier when he had first been


Mrs Dawson’s hand flashed up and down, landing in a random pattern all over the surface of Jimmy’s buttocks. Jimmy bucked and squirmed. The awful stinging heat of the spanking brought tears welling up in his eyes. Relentlessly, the big powerful woman spanked Jimmy’s bottom to a bright red hue while he wriggled shamelessly over her lap.


He continued crying like that for the next fifteen
minutes while she expertly turned his bottom a bright crimson
before sitting him up and hugging him on her lap for ten
minutes. His underpants had long been kicked off but Jimmy
didn’t care, not even when he was finally allowed to stand up as
she led him out of her bedroom and down the hall to put him to
bed early. By then, his nudity below the waist seemed completely
normal as the condition of a very soundly spanked bad boy who
had forfeited his right to any big boy modesty. And when she
returned after putting him to bed with a jar of cold cream which
she rubbed into his sore cheeks, Jimmy fell into the deepest
state of relaxation he had ever known.
The next afternoon, Mrs Dawson repeated the whole process,
except that she gave Jimmy a long, slow sponge bath in her
bathtub before taking him to her bed and putting him over her
knee. In the slippery, soapy movements of the sponge, Jimmy got
much very excited, especially when he had to stand so she could
wash him all over in front and in back. Yet instead of scolding
him for reacting that way, Mrs Dawson told him repeatedly how
normal it was for a boy his age to get that way and encouraged
him to relax while she made sure he had the necessary and
healthy release all young men needed. When he finally jetted all
over his upper chest, she praised him effusively and told him
what a fine young man he was he was and how well he had taken
his bath. As she took him to her bed and put him over her lap,
she explained
“This way, young man, Aunt Amanda can be sure we don’t have
any accidents while you are over my knee. I can’t have you
ruining my bathrobe or any of my silk nighties, can I?”

Five minutes of good sound spanking reduced Jimmy to a
blubbering mess of a little boy.


When Billy returned on Sunday night, all seemed normal to
the outer eye, though Jimmy was nursing a red bottom under his
jeans. For the next seven days, Jimmy was picked up at 3:00 and
brought home to Mrs. Dawson’s bathroom. There he was stripped,
bathed, given a healthy release, and towelled off before being
led by the hand into the bedroom and spanked soundly.

Since Mrs Dawson only spanked with her hand and spanked slowly to allow
for lots of scolding, each spanking was a long, drawn out affair
lasting at least fifteen minutes with another ten minutes of
cuddling after. And starting on the third day, Mrs. Dawson
introduced a little variation in the cold cream which always
came after she put Jimmy to bed, lying on his stomach wearing
nothing but pajamas tops. By sliding her creamy hand further
down along his buttocks and between his legs, she could check to
see his condition in front. If he seemed like he needed release,
she just slid her hand down a little farther as Jimmy
instinctively lifted his hips a little to give her more room. In
that way, Jimmy found he didn’t need to masturbate much anymore
since Mrs Dawson was giving him a delicious release twice a day.



One response to ““Mrs Dawson” on F/M Spanking Sunday

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