Christian Camp Pt 2

Here is part 2 of the story I introduced last week from Randy a/k/a Sarah 3333

Christian Camp III by Randy  (revised)

Mrs Fennington unlocked the door and woke Randy up at
7:30 sharp. The smell of pancakes drifted in from the
“Come along child. Use the bathroom and brush your
teeth quickly. I want to see you at the table in five
minutes before the pancakes get cold.”
“But I need to get dressed, Mrs Fennington,” Randy
said, his hands still wiping sleep from his eyes.
“No buts, young man, unless you want a little more of
what you got yesterday. I’m sure it would you wake up in a

“I’ll be right out, ma’am,” Randy said as he dashed
into the bathroom and closed the door.
“That’s better, child,” Mrs Fennington replied as she
returned to the kitchen and finished setting the table.
Minutes later, a blushing Randy crept into the kitchen and
seated himself at the breakfast table hoping Stacey would
not notice he was still in his pjs. She only smiled warmly
as she placed a large pile of pancakes on his plate. He was
famished and finished them off quickly, happy to the
unlimited supply of maple syrup.

Toward the end of breakfast, Mrs. Fennington turned from
discussing camp matters with Stacey and said,
“Randy, you will spend the morning helping Stacey do
yard work around the house. There is still a lot of raking
left over from last fall and a lot of dead branches in the
woods which need piling up. I will be away all morning
attending in the administration building but I will be back
for lunch at noon. If you misbehave, Stacey will take you
back into your bedroom and punish you herself.tumblr_meug04ZOMF1rlm5kio1_400


And when I
get back at lunchtime, I will put you over my knee myself
and give you some more. Do you understand me, child?”
“I’ll be good, Mrs Fennington,” Randy blurted out,
blushing momentarily at the childish nature of his words.
“I certainly hope so, young man. Remember, you and I
have another chat before your nap starts.”

“Yes ma’am,” Randy murmured, his eyes fixed on his plate
as he felt Stacey’s eyes on him. He was grateful Mrs
Fennington didn’t say anything else.
After breakfast, Mrs Fenington took Randy into his
bedroom and closed the door while Stacey did the dishes. She
then took off his pjs and dressed him for the day. When he
protested in a whisper that he was old enough to dress
himself, she curtly replied,
“Naughty boys who need a stayover are not old enough to
do much of anything by themselves, young man. I’m warning
you – that’s the last protest from you. If I hear another
complaint from you about anything for the rest of your
visit, we will have another pants-down discussion as soon as
you can say jack rabbit. Just try me if you think I’m not

Once again, Randy quickly relented, his face a mixture
of shame and fear. Five minutes later, he was helping Stacey
rake up what seemed to be an endless number of wet leaves on
the large back lawn. By the time they started in on the dead
branches in the woods, it was already 11:30 and they didn’t
get very far before it was time to start making sandwiches.
Mrs Fennington arrived promptly at noon and was pleased
to get a good report from Stacey. Randy was enormously
relieved when lunch passed in small talk. Butterflies were
already churning in his tummy. As they finished off the
blueberry pie for desert, Stacey rose to begin doing the
dishes. Mrs Fennington also got up, held out her hand for
Randy, and said,
“Come along child. I don’t want any fuss this time.”

With a sidelong glance at Stacey who was eying him
curiously as she picked up the dishes, Randy got up and
allowed Mrs Fennington to lead him by the hand back to his
room. She escorted him over to a corner and stuck his nose
right up against the wall.
“Stay perfectly still, young man, with your hands at
your sides. I am going to take down your pants and leave you
here for five minutes or so while I help Stacey do the
dishes. If you move an inch or do anything, you will be a
very sorry little boy.”

Cowed by her warnings, Randy stood them passively, with
little more than a quiet whimper as she untied and removed
his sneakers and tugged his shorts down to his ankles before
taking them off. He heard her footsteps departing and
listened in vain for the sound of the door being closed
behind her. Though he was in a corner which was not visible
from the hall outside the door, anyone poking their head
into the room would have seen him standing in the corner in
his underpants, his impending fate all too obvious. He
listened intently to the distant sounds of Mrs Fennington
chatting with Stacey in the kitchen, terrified that Stacey
might walk by his room on the way to hers and look in on

When the dish washing noise stopped, he breathed a sigh
of relief as he heard Stacey’s lighter steps go straight to
her room and the door close. He then heard Mrs Fennington’s
shoes returning toward his room. The steps advanced into his
room, stopped as if she were checking to make sure he had
not moved. Then the door closed. Randy let his breath out,
quietly, unaware that he had been holding it.
When she took him by the arm from the corner, he saw
she was once again wearing her pink apron. It did not bring
back pleasant memories. She then pulled the straight back
chair out from the desk, placed it near his bed, and sat
down, keeping him to her right. Before he could do anything,
she pulled the silk handkerchief from her apron pocket and
tied his wrists in front of him.
“I think we’ll need the handkerchief at least for today.
We’ll see if you’re good enough to go without it tomorrow.
Now over you go, child. You have another spanking coming and
I’m going to make it a memorable one before I put you to bed
for the rest of the afternoon.


Randy was unable to prevent a fat tear from appearing
in his right eye and trickling down his cheek as Mrs
Fennington gently pulled him forward over her ample lap.
“Please,” he whispered, “”I’ll be good”.
“Yes, I think you will be a good boy, Randy, providing
you are well spanked whenever you are naughty. You are
clearly one of those immature boys who still needs to be
punished like a small child when he’s naughty. And you
certainly responds well to a good spanking judging by the
improvement in your behavior over the last twenty-four
hours. Don’t forget the serious nature of the offenses which
you committed, young man. A pair of spankings is nowhere
near sufficient punishment for that sort of thing. If you
were my child, you’d be spanked every night for at least a
week and left in the care of a strict baby sitter at all
times. If I were you, I’d save your fussing for after your
spanking starts.”

With that, she drew his underpants down to his ankles
and pulled them off all together. As she did, she bent down
and whispered in his ear,
“You are going to be soundly spanked and put straight
to bed, young man, and there is nothing you can do about it.
And by the time I finish, I think you’ll be in full
agreement that you needed this spankings, as well as the
others you have earned.”

A sound spank landed immediately across both of Randy’s
wobbling cheeks as if to drive home her point. Mrs
Fennington’s experienced right hand quickly resumed the same
rapid pace used the day before. This time, Randy began
crying after only a few minutes, as if giving in to the
inevitable now that he knew what to expect. The fact that
Stacey had to have heard each loud spank only broke down his
resistance faster and brought him to the tears of utter
helplessness and shame. Within five minutes, Mrs Fennington
had reduced Randy to a sobbing pre-teen promising repeatedly
to be a good boy and saying all sorts of other things
without any prompting. Only after his chubby bottom was
bright red and his face soaked with tears did she slow
things down and begin the second stage, alternating a minute
of hard spanking with a minute of scolding and questioning.
Part of that second stage included promising to be good when
she put him back in the corner for another ten minutes so he
could stop crying before she put him to bed.


When she finally stopped, stood him on his feet, and
untied the handkerchief, she allowed him to rub himself
frantically for a minute before taking him back to the
corner and leaving him there in nothing but a tee shirt and
white socks. Once again she left the door open as she
departed for some other section of the household. Through
his tears, Randy heard a door open and heard the muffled
sounds of Mrs Fennington talking to Stacey. After a few
minutes, the door closed and all was quiet until he heard a
chair creaked and the sound of a newspaper rattling. After
ten minutes, Randy was just sniffling and rubbing his eyes
when he heard Mrs Fennington returning.

She put him to bed
just the way he was, which wasn’t so bad given the heat, and
left the sheet pulled down with Randy lying on his stomach.
She then locked the door behind her, said goodbye to Stecey
for the afternoon, and returned to the main camp area.
That night at dinner, Randy shifted uneasily in his
chair. Stacey smiled curiously at him a number of times,
apparently noticing his discomfort and wondering if was
still sore from his nap-time spanking or anxious over his
impending punishment. After they finished eating, Mrs
Fennington asked Stacey to run a bath for Randy. She then
took him to his room without any fuss. It was clear he was
eager to escape the hovering gaze of the pretty Stacey
Fennington. Once again, Mrs Fennington put him in the corner
and moved his sneakers and shorts, as well as his socks. She
then opened the dresser and got out a new pair of pyjamas
which she had purchased in the women’s clothing department
at Sears. It was a baby blue one-piece sleeper with a
snapping flap in back in a teen size.

She then pulled down the covers and laid the sleeper
out on Randy’s bed. As she was finishing up, the bath water
went off and a gentle knock sounded on the door. Randy
turned his head just enough to see the door was adjar and
that Stacey had a clear view of him in the corner.
“Mom, Randy’s bath is ready.”
“Young man, eyes back in the corner right this
Mrs Fennington’s icy tone made it clear she was not
“Thanks honey. We’ll be there in just a minute. You can
go start the dishes now.”

As Stacey departed for the kitchen, Mrs Fennington took
a very red-faced Randy by the arm and escorted him into the
waiting bathroom, closing the door behind them. She then
finished undressing him, helped him step into the bath, and
scrubbed him down thoroughly with a sponge, making sure to
clean everywhere regardless of how much more embarrassed he
became. Stacey hurried through the dishes so she could get
back to the living room where she sat on the sofa, with a
book, listening to everything she could hear.
Eventually the water began draining out of the tub. A
few minutes later, she heard the sink turned on and the sound
of Randy brushing his teeth. A few minutes later, she heard
the sound of the toilet flushing before the bathroom door
opened and her mother whisked a towel-wrapped Randy into his
bedroom. This time she closed the door behind her. Despite
this, she could hear just about everything, including some a
complaint from Randy over his new pyjamas. A loud pair of
smacks ended the quiet protest. For the next few minutes,
silence fell over the house until it was broken by another
round of boyish whimpering.



Almost immediately afterwards,
the sounds of another hard spanking echoed through the
house. As Stacey listened to every spank and cry with
shining eyes, she remembered how recently she had been
disciplined that way whenever she misbehaved, all the way
through sophomore year in high school. There had been a few
traditional lessons applied in her junior year when she came
home past her curfew.
Despite these memories, she had no pity for Randy at
that moment. Any boy who peeked in on a grown woman
undressing needed quite a few spankings in her mind. She was
only sorry he hadn’t acted up in her care that morning. Her
mind drifted back to Billy Marston’s stayover the previous
summer and what had happened when Billy made the mistake of
misjudging her strictness and sympathies.

Eventually, the spanking stopped, though the sounds of
steady crying continued. They got louder as the door to
Randy’s room opened and her mother came back out into the
living room, turning out the lights behind her and locking
the door. Stacey buried her nose in her book as her mother
came into the living room, looked with satisfaction at her
daughter lost in her summer reading, and settled into an
easy chair to finish the newspaper.

The next morning, Stacey fielded a number of important
phone calls concerning camp business. At one point, she had
to run off to the main office to give her mother some
paperwork she had left behind. Before she left, she tested
Randy the same way she had tested Billy Marston.
“I have to go to the main office for about twenty
minutes, Randy. I hope I can trust you to finish up cleaning
up the woods and not get into any trouble.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Randy said with boyish bravado.
“I’ll have all this done before you get back.”
“That’s the kind of Randy I want to see around here,”
she said, giving him a sweet smile as she headed down the
little path in the woods.
Randy turned to hide the flush at being spoken to in
those terms as he reached for another dead branch. He did
his best to look diligent for another few minutes in case
Stacey was lingering somewhere, spying on him. He then ran
down the trail after her, keeping his head low, until he
almost reached the meadow when he caught sight of Stacey,
halfway across the tall grass, heading for the main office.
Certain that he would be alone for at least fifteen minutes,
he ran back to the Fennington’s house and quickly entered
Stacey’s room. At last, he would be able to pry into her
private world and pay her back for her invasion of his
privacy in the last day. Making sure to leave everything
exactly as he found he, he went through all her papers on
the bedside table. Inside the little drawer, he found what
turned out to be letters from her college boyfriend and read
them, his hands trembling at the emotion. Glancing at his
watch, he saw that five minutes had gone by since Stacey
left. Plunging back into her letters, he finished them, his
heart pounding at the references to kissing. He stuffed them
hastily back into the drawer before turning to scan the rest
of the small room. He opened the closet quickly and examined
her dresses, running his hands over the fabric for a few
moments until he realized there were better things to look
at elsewhere. With the blood pounding in his head and
feelings of dizziness, he opened each of her dresser drawers
until he found what he was looking for. And just when he
raised a pair of pink panties up in the air to examine, a
cold voice froze him in his tracks.

“What in God’s name do you think you are doing, young
In an instant, Randy whirled instinctively away from
the voice, hiding his motions with his body as he threw the
panties in the drawer and nudged it shut with his knee
before pretending to pick up a quarter off the floor which he
had cleverly pulled from a pocket.

“I was just looking for this quarter which I dropped in
the hallway which rolled in here. That all! Really, that’s
all I was doing.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me young man? I saw what you were
doing? And it didn’t have anything to do with quarters. It
appears you still have a problem peeking into women’s
private things, Randy. Wait until mother hears about this.
I’m sure you will get at least an extra day added to your
stayover, if not two.”

“Please, don’t say anything to her! I really wasn’t
doing anything! Please don’t tell her!” In his desperation,
Randy was unaware he was contradicting himself. Stacey let
him go on like that as she hung her purse on the inside of
the doorknob and closed the door from the inside. She then
came over to Randy and said,
“Young man, I caught you red-handed going through my
underwear drawer so any more denials will only make your
situation worse. Your stayover is supposed to be curing you
of filthy habits like this which is why my mother will
certainly be hearing about this when she comes homes for
lunch. But before she does, it’s time you learned what
happens to bad boys who mother leaves in my care.”

Wha… what do you mean, bad boys? I wasn’t bad …
really, I dropped my quarter in here and I thought maybe

“Now the quarter dropped, but a minute ago it rolled? I
see perfectly well what is going on. A boy who still peeps
and who still lies … a boy who badly needs a good spanking
right now and that’s what he’s going to get.”
“A spanking? … are you crazy?  I’m much too big for
that, Stacey. Really … I’m sorry about coming in here
without your permission …”

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be in just a minute,
young man!” Already she had his upper left arm in a tight
grip. And overcome with emotion and fear, Randy was helpless
to do anything except object vociferously as she sat down on
the edge of her bed.

“Young man, I just left mother’s office. Though she is
off at the tennis courts right now, Mrs Breeley is in the
office and would be very interested to hear of this latest
development. She would also be more willing to come over
right away if you’d like that. I’ll just make a quick call
and see.”

“No! Please, don’t call her! Please, I ‘ll do anything
you say. Don’t call Mrs Breeley.”
With a sudden yank, Stacey sent Randy sprawling across
her lap and quickly put her right thigh over the back of his
kicking legs. Wasting no time, she began spanking his shorts
as hard as she could while scolding him in the manner used
by her mother.


“You bad, bad little boy, you, sneaking into my bedroom
and peeking into my panties like this. You are going to be
spanked right away for this naughtiness and spanked a lot
more when mother find out about this.”
Though the spanks didn’t hurt that much through two
layers of clothing, the shame of being treated like a small
child by this pretty coed and the certainty of future
punishment was too much for Randy to manage. He put his hand
behind him, doing his best to protect himself while begging
for leniency and above all, secrecy.


After another minute or two, Stacey stood him up and
told him to hold his hands in front of him. Hoping to
assuage her wrath and win the secrecy he needed more than
anything else, he did what he was told as she quickly tied
his hands with a little belt coiled on her bedside table.
Before randy could do anything, she jerked his shorts down
to his knees, exposing his white cotton briefs and adding
greatly to his shame. He immediately grasped at his
waistband lest she try to lower his underpants, at which she
shrugged and tipped him quickly back over her knees, once
again securing him in place with her right leg. She then
picked up a small, round plastic hairbrush on her bedside
table and began spanking Randy in earnest. Thus time he
yelled from real pain as the small brush stung him right
through his briefs. After about sixty or seventy hard spanks,
Randy was begging more for mercy rather than a cover up of
his later folly. Pausing as if to address his concerns,
Stacey calmed tugged his underpants down to his knees, put
aside her hairbrush, and resumed spanking his chubby, pink
bottom with her hand.happy 2
“You naughty, naughty child, you! You naughty, naughty
child! Do you think you are going to be let off for
something this serious without a series of additional
spankings? If I was your baby sitter for the rest of the
day, you’d be spending all afternoon either over my knee or
standing in the corner, waiting for another spanking. Mother
has recommended me as a baby sitter for the women in her
church group and believe me, it’s because I know how to give
a good spanking to a naughty child like you who peeks at my

The spanking continued as Randy’s round cheeks danced
back and forth under Stacey’s right hand. An experienced
tennis player, Stacey proved almost as strong as her capable
mother in correcting bad boys as Randy quickly found out.
Nor was she any less deaf to his cries for leniency or
forgiveness. On and on she spanked, until finally he broke
down, losing all teenage bravado and began sobbing. Pleased
she had finally reduced him to a well-spanked little boy,
Stacey slowed down somewhat and settled into a rhythm she
could maintain as long as she wanted. And scolding him to
reinforce his childishness, she continued to blister his red
fanny for another ten minutes. By the time she finished, he
had admitted to everything, even to his need for additional
punishment, in the hope of ending his ordeal. And finally,
after her rug was glistening with his tears and her arm was
tired, she stopped and allowed him to stumble to his feet so
his hands could be untied and he could rub his scarlet
bottom. For the first minute, he was too overcome to notice
his exposed condition. And when he reached for his
underpants and shorts which were still tangled below his
knees, Stacey spanked him again and cut him short.

“Young man, I have seen little boys before, I wouldn’t
worry about that. Leave those underpants exactly where they
are and come with me.”

She led him, still crying, to his room where she put him
uin a corner, underpants and shorts still at half mast, and
ordered him to stay put or he would spend the rest of the
summer on a stayover.

When Mrs Fennington came home twenty minutes later for
lunch, Stacey brought her in to Randy’s room and showed her
the tearful youngster. The older woman then took her
daughter and left, locking Randy in behind her, and had a
long discussion with Randy’s mother and with Mrs Breeley on
the phone. It was agreed Randy’s stayover would be extended
for an entire week. Lunch that day was a sandwich brought to
Randy’s room, where he was spanked hard by Mrs Fennington
and put straight to bed for the afternoon. At dinner, Mrs
Fennington announced she had spoken with his mother and that
Randy would be staying on for another four days. If he
misbehaved again, an entire week would be added.
That night Randy did a more extended corner time for
twenty minutes with just a tee shirt and underpants and his
door left wide open. This time, Stacey came well into the
room to announce his bath was ready. After his bath, he was
returned to the corner for another twenty minutes in just
his briefs before Mrs Fenington came in to put him into his
sleeper. Securing his hands with the handkerchief, she then
drew the crying boy across her knee, lowered the flap on his
jammies, and spent ten minutes scolding him and going over
what she had discussed with his mother and explaining why he
needed to stay on four an additional three and a half days.
She then gave him a very sound spanking which left him
bawling and kicking like a baby before putting him to bed,
his flap left unbuttoned.

That night, as Randy lay awake for hours nursing a sore
fanny, he began dreaming up ways top escape any more
spankings. The next morning, he turned on his bedside lamp
at 7:00, knowing he had  half hour before Mrs Fennington
would come to get him up for breakfast. When he heard her
footsteps approaching, he snapped off the lamp and lay in
bed, rolling around slightly and rubbing his forehead. His
whole face was well heated from sticking it under the
swiveling, metal table lamp and he was confident a feigned
fever would allow him to stay in bed for at least one whole
day, safe from any further discipline.
Unfortunately for Randy, Mrs Fennington knew all of
the tricks clever youngsters dream up and was happy to
express grave concern for Randy’s new condition.
“If you are sick, child, you aren’t going anywhere
today. You just lie there and we’ll bring you breakfast.
Stacey, can you please bring me the thermometer on the
little tray in the bathroom. Randy has a fever and won’t be
getting up today.”

I’m not sick enough to need a thermometer, Mrs
Fennington,” he said quickly, hoping to avert a disaster.
“Nonsense, child, your face feels like 102. I’m obliged
to take your temp and call your mother if you are as as sick
as you seem.”
Randy was beginning to wonder about his plan.
“Really, if I just get some extra rest and some
liquids, I bet I’ll be well by tommow,” he ventured, still
hoping to head things off.
“Shush child, or I’ll give you something worse than a
thermometer to worry about. Now roll over, plerase.”
“Roll over? Wha? I don’t need to roll over.”
“Young man, if you aren’t on your tummy by the count of
three, you will be over my knee, 102 fever and all.”
Randy reluctantly rolled over just as Stacey enetered
the room carrying a small tray on which he could see a
thermometer, a small jar of vaseline, and a small package of
“What the devil? What is that? I don’t need that kind
of thermometer!” It was now apparent why he had been asked
to roll over.Ignoring his protests, Mrs Fennington sat on
the side of the bed and unsnapped his flap while Stacey
stood there, holding the tray and watching everything with
obvious relish.
“This is the only thermometer we use with stayover
boys, Ramdy, since it can’t be placed near any bedside lamps
for made to read in the fever range. I’m sure you are sick
as you say but I need to mark down your proper temp and
that’s why you are going to get this thermometer. Now lie
still or your fanny will get a lot more than a harmless
little thermometer.”
Uncapping the jar of Vaseline, she dug her first two
fingers in and pulled out a large glob which she proceeded
to smear deep between Randy’s cheeks. Patting them when she
was finished, she wiped her fingers on a tissue which Stacey
offered before opening the thermometer case and pulling out
the little glass rod. Again she used her left hand to part
randy’s clenched cheeks before sliding the themometer well
into his fanny.
“Stacey, please set that tray down on the bedside
table. We’ll need it every few hours til we’re sure Randy is
well. I’m going to finish breakfast. Could you stay here and
make sure Randy lies still?”
“Sure, Mom. I’d be happy. Can I take Randy’s temperature
at mid-morning?”
“I’m counting on it, missie. I won’t be back til noon
today, as usual.”
She rose and departed, leaving Stacey to seat herself on
the bed alongside Randy, her hand resting lightly on his
fanny holding the thermometer in place.
“You certainly look cute with a baby thermometer in your
bottom, Randy. It’s just the right thermometer for a naughty
boy who still needs lots of spankings wqith his pants down.”
As Randy lay there, his face buried in the pillow in
shame, she continued to make remarks like that, leaving the
thermometer in for what seems like an eternity. In truth, it
was a full ten minutes. Mrs. fennington finally returned and
removed the thermometer and held it up to the light.
“Just as you suggested, Randy! You only have a slight
fever of 99. It’s still enough to keep you in bed for the
day. So I’m going to leave Stacey as your babysitter again,
only this time tou are to stay in bed at all times. If you
need to use the potty, you need to ask Stacey.”
Randy could hardly believe the news. Perhaps all that
time under the lamp had raised his temperature a little.
What he didn’t know was that his temp was normal and Mrs
Fennington had turned the tables on him, adding another form
of humiliation. For the next two hours, he enjoyed breakfast
in bed, followed by a series of card games with Stacey after
Mrs Fennington left for the main camp building. At exactly
10:30, Stacey made him roll over on his tummy again for
another check with the thermometer, after which she
pronounced him just the same. When he asked to see the
thermometer, she calmly shook it down and said,
“Thermometers are for grown-ups to read, silly. Now
shush if you know what’s good for you.” Knowing enough to
follow instructions, the red-faced Randy sighed and stayed
lying on his stomach to hide an unexpected response to the
At noon, Mrs Fennington returned and made sandwiches
for the three of them. They all ate in Randy’s room while
the two women discussed Randy’s condition. After they all
finished, Mts Fennington took the food tray away. Pausing at
the doorway, she turned back to Stacey and said,
“Honey, it’s time to check Randy’s temp/. Be a dearie
and do that for me, will you?”
“Of course, mom.”
Once again, randy had to roll over as Stacey unsnapped
his flap. She seemed to apply even more Vaseline than her
mother and to take longer doing it. And once again, she
rested her hand on the thermometer after inserting it “to
make sure it stays in properly”. Once again, Randy got an
erection despite his best efforts to avoid this problem. As
he lay there, throbbing against the bed, he heard teh sound
of Mrs fennington doing the dishes. Time seemed to pass
slowly until the dishw

Time seemed to pass slowly until the dishwashing noise
finally stopped. Mrs Fennington then appeared, wearing her
pink apron. She came over to the bed and stood there while
Stacey removed the thermometer and told her Randy’s temp had
not changed.
“Hmmm … 99 is not much of a temp, is it Randy.”
Hoping to put an end to this new humiliation, Randy
“No, I feel fine, or almost fine.” He was careful to
catch himself lest he escape one predicament only to fall
into another.
“Hmmm. Almost fine? That seems good enough for me to
continue with what you normally get after lunch. Come on,
child, up you go! Stand on your feet.”
Since Mrs Fennington was grasping him by the arm, Randy
was brusquely stood on his feet, his flap still hanging open
in back, his hands trying to conceal his problem in front.
“It looks lime Randy secretly enjoys his baby
thermometer, Stacey. Make sure you keep taking his temp
every three hours until he’s completely back to normal.
Right now, I have something which Randy still needs badly,
his nap-time spanking.”
Suddenly Randy was protesting he was too sick to be
spanked, all to no avail. In an instant, he was tipped over
Mrs Fennington’s legs and pulled forward til his feet left
the ground. She then began spanking his round cheeks briskly
with her right hand, for the first time in front of the
wide-eyed Stacey.

“This is how you spank a naughty boy effectively,
Stacey. Stay in the same spot for a good six to ten spanks
until the sting really builds up before finding a new spot.
That way, you can give a hard spanking using just your hand.
Like this. On and on she spanked in one spot until Randy
began to howl before she found a new place and started over.
In less than five minutes, two thirds of his bottom was
bright red. Pausing momentarily to pull his flap down
further, she painted his entire fanny red in another five
minutes and transformed Randy’s false bravado into the
sobbing of a very well-spanked child.
“Now is the best time to scold and question, Stacey,
because it’s the only time you really know you have a
naughty boy’s full attention. Always spank over the knee in
the nursery position because it reminds bad boys they are
nothing more than little children when they misbehave …
little children who need sound spankings followed by naps
and early bedtimes. Just like Randy’s going to get for the
next four days. See what a big baby he becomes after a good
bottom warming?”


“Yes, mom, I do. It shows how well he still responds to
spankings, even at his age.”

“Especially at his age, Stacey dear. Randy is one of
those terribly immature boys who will need to be spanked
right through high school according to his mother. And from
what I’ve seen, she right. Frankly, Randy is a boy who will
benefit from bare bottom spankings right through the college
years. I’ve told his mother she should make sure he attends
a local college so he can live at home and get the strict
discipline he needs. Or maybe he can go to a religious
school where they still use paddling for troublemakers.


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