Margaret Knows - MF/m

A guest author has kindly submitted this story. Comment below please.

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Hi, my name is Kent Bedlawn and I am pacing back and forth waiting for my favorite (and currently only) girl friend, Margaret Chastine. Suddenly, the door swings open. It might have been fatal if I'd been standing behind it. Margaret walks into the room. 

"Hi, Maggie," I say. 

"Hello, Kenny" she smiles. 

My heart rate increases dramatically. Ushering her in, we sit down on the couch together. I am just thinking this would be a good time to ask how she is doing when, out of the blue, she looks me full in the eyes as if to make sure I won't lie. 

"Kenny," she questions, "Did your family ever spank you?" 



I blush. My butt cheeks tense ever so slightly. "Yeah," I admit. "Occasionally. And you?"

Maggie laughs. "Never, my family didn't use much punishment except for the occasional grounding." 

Did I mention that Maggie is an only child? Unlike me, who grew up with 2 brothers. 

Maggie pauses and then speaks again. "What was it like?" 

I give a bit of a dry smile. "It hurt. My father used only a switch, which was rather rare. My mother used a majority of implements including a wooden spoon, her hand, a small paddle, and the like." 

Maggie snuggles up to me on the couch. "Tell me the worst spanking you ever received." I groan. Maggie decides to sock me with a pillow until I comply. 

"Ok, OK, OKAYYYYYY," I shout. Then I begin. 

"I'm pretty sure it was the spanking I got in Texas. My family traveled a lot, and one year it was decided we would go stay at a nice hotel in Texas and do all kind of fun things. "

"I (13 at the time), John (14 at the time), and Kevin (8 at the time) were very excited. Our excitement was greatly dampened when it was learned we were going to DRIVE from Athens, Alabama to San Antonio, Texas. It was a drive of about 15 hours. Dad said we would drive non stop."

"At about 2 o' clock A.M., we all piled into the car and fell asleep. I slept little as a result of being on the left end of the seat and my brothers stole most of the blankets. I was grumpy and sore by the time I woke up around 7 o' clock. Dad encouraged us saying we only had about 12 hours as we'd had some bad traffic. That really cheered everyone. FINALLY, around 7:30 p.m., we pulled in at our destination, a hotel called Cherished Memories. We unloaded the truck, trooped up into our rooms, and fell asleep. Then we had to get up at about 3 o' clock because Kevin thought he saw an aurora in the sky which wasn't possible anyway, since they're only around the poles. I only half got back to sleep. When I woke up at 8 o' clock because Mom said she would go get a cold, wet washcloth (no sponges here) to put on my face if I didn't wake up, I was still sore. And grumpy. "

"Apparently, the trip had had a similar effect on my brother because John was also in a sour disposition. He made some provoking comment which I fell for and cursed at him. Dad, of course, didn't hear John, just my ill-spoken line. He threatened he would spank both of us with that paddle if we did anything else that day. When we asked him what paddle, he said that he'd seen a paddle downstairs in the lobby with a bench below it. Surely, I thought, that must be just for decoration as an antique object or something. But I still looked for it anyway when we tramped down stairs. And to be honest, it didn't look to old to me. It was about 2 and a half feet long, including the handle and about, maybe half an inch thick with rounded edges. Then, shame of shames, he asked the LADY clerk at the desk whether the paddle could be used for disciplining  rebellious and naughty teenagers. This was obviously either John or me, as Kevin was far too short to even qualify as a double-digit 10 year old. John and I were about the same height as a result of me being tall and him being around average."

"The lady smiled and said, yes, anytime. She also said the bench was for either the parent to sit on in an over-the-knee spanking or for the recipient to bend over. Dad thanked her and lead his family out to our rental car, where we went  to the San Antonio Aquarium. One of the few things John and I have in common is our mutual hate of aquariums. They are thoroughly boring, after all, all you can do is gaze at fish with cold, round eyes and if you're lucky you may get to see an otter or something. Anyway, we were grumbling and making comments under our breath but it was all kept to a quiet mutter until lunch at the Snacks By the Sea outdoor cafeteria. That's when I had to use the rest room for a minute and told Mom to get me a burger and fries. The only problem was that she ordered me the ongoing special of the LETTUCE AND TOMATO BURGER! I wanted a cheeseburger with just meat and cheese."

"Mom didn't want to waste the food, and I didn't want to waste it either. Couldn't I trade with John? Good old John. He politely stated that he would not like to trade, but that it WAS good for me to eat my veggies as that was what my body really needed instead of all those Delight Dashes I'd been eating. Delight Dashes were a strictly forbidden desert in my family, as they were full of unhealthy junk. After a while, I had started buying them with cash from Mom's wallet and woofing them down (they were hidden under my bed) when no one was around. It HAD worked great up until a few weeks ago when Mom caught me, and John heard... but that's another story. Anyway, that was still a sore spot (in more ways than one!) with me, and I suddenly, in a burst of amazing strength, punched John in the nose and simultaneously kicked him in the shin."

"Dad immediately got up and unceremoniously whacked my butt hard and grabbed my ear. We all marched out to the car, but while John marched like a victorious general, I was marching like a captive prisoner. The ride back to the hotel was silent. I know I've said before Dad never used anything except a switch, but I suppose this was the one exception. Anyway, that same lady clerk was sitting there when dad marched me in by the ear and told me to go over mom's knee. Mom sat down on the bench and, wonder of wonders, she pulled a all-to familiar rubber spatula out of her purse. The kind that doesn't leave permanent damage but stings like fire. All my protests amounted to Dad holding my hands while John (that ******************************************************) unbuckled my jeans and slid them with my underpants down to me knees. I was then pulled over Mom's lap and John held me hands while she gave me a thorough spanking. I tried not to, but I eventually broke down and cried."

"SMACK-OW SMACK-OW CRACK CRACK-OW CRACK CRACK-OWWWWW SMACK-OWWWW SMACK Owwwahhhhhhh SMACK SMACK SMACK!"

"I won't repeat how many times she whacked me, but it was plenty. Finally, John hauled me to my feet but prevented me from pulling up my pants by keeping his iron grip on my hands. Then I heard words which chilled my blood."

'Kent Bedlawn,' my dad announced, 'I plan to give you 4 sharp licks with this paddle to remind you not to embarass me in public like that EVER AGAIN! Bend over and glue your hands to the bench or you'll be sorry.' 

"Before I could react, John acted upon a nod from Dad and 'helped' me by practically hurling me down onto the bench. Then he stood by my side and put a menacing hand on my back. I heard Dad say I would need to count the licks. Then WHAM, pain exploded in my bottom."

'OWWWWWWWW,' I yelled. 'One,' I moaned. 

BLAM came the second lick. I screamed (yeah, like a girl) and would have lept up if John's warm, comforting hand hadn't held me down. 

'Two,' I gasped. 

"SLAMMMMM came the third lick. Hardest one yet. It really did feel just like an tongue licking me--a fire-breathing dragon tongue. After stomping my feet and clenching my jaw through which only a slight whimper escaped, I stated 'Three'."

"SLAP came the fourth. And contrary to what most people seem to say, that one was actually probably the gentlest of them all. Then John let me leap up and observe the rather large cluster of spectators gathered around me. Yanking up my pants and getting my underwear uncomfortably twisted in the process, I staggered up the stairs to my room." 

I hear Maggie gasp. "Wow, Kenny, you really asked for that one!" 

I scowl at Maggie. Then she bursts out laughing. What sympathy! 

"I was just thinking how similar your story was to mine," she giggles. 

I am flabbergasted. 

"I thought you said you were never spanked!" 

Maggie winces. 

"I said my FAMILY never spanked me. And they didn't." 

I grin. "TELLL ME!" I plead. Unfortunately, since I'm a GENTLEman, I'm not allowed to beat HER over the head with a pillow. But Maggie only gives me an enchanting smile. 

"Let's eat dinner," she directs, "And then I'll tell you about my spanking."

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To be continued, don't worry! Any ideas or comments can be directed to babydog17@gmx.com for a reply within a day or 2.