Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 30 Jan 2018
Before his birthday, Garret celebrated his first Christmas without his parents, and with his two aunts. They bought him some new, white, snug briefs and t-shirts to fit the elfin boy’s trim, slight physique. They also bought him some new socks and a belt.
The Aunts discussed between themselves and Garret, going to the Outlet Village Shoppes, where they were sure they could buy more for their money of what Garret needed for school, and his sports and recreation. That all sounded good to him.
He got ready, dressed in a very snug-fitting pair of older, thinner jeans; a slender, long-sleeve sweater; his well-worn running shoes; and a too-short, outgrown, denim jacket.
It was truly a great opportunity, as there were so many different kinds of brands’ outlets to go into and peruse. Repeatedly, Garret became intrigued by things and wandered off, out of sight, even taking a couple of things into fitting rooms by himself.
Each time, Aunt Iris and Aunt Violet issued spanking threats to the young boy, and he instantly stopped in his tracks and conformed. The half-life of his compliance was short, however, as he became distracted with things he could see, touch, and want to try on.
After several warnings, he became distracted by a pairs of blue jeans he hoped would fit him, because he liked them. Without remembering his cautions from his Aunts, Garret took two pair off to find a fitting room. If he had thought about it, he would have realized at once he should not have done that, or been there.
Instead, Violet and Iris were both looking around for their nephew-son, not seeing or finding him anywhere. They were becoming not a little unnerved when they saw the youngster carrying the jeans out of the fitting room.
Garret! Violet called out to him.
We’ve been looking everywhere for you! Starting to get
really worried! How many times have we told you, just today, not to run off, not to go out of our sight?!
she chided him.
And this isn’t the first time, is it, youngster?! We tell you that every time we go out somewhere,
don’t we? You know we caution you every time you are going out some where about the dangers and risks
of running off where you can’t be seen, isn’t that true?
Garret hung his crimson-blushing head.
I’m sorry, Aunt Violet, he replied.
That’s what you already said four other times today you have eloped from our presence and sight,
Garret Henderson Doyle! she scolded.
You need something to help, make sure, you listen and remember
what we caution you about, youngster, Violet concluded.
She grabbed him by his arm and led him down the aisles to an exit door, where she maneuvered him outside and around back behind the Calvin Klein shop. She grasped the waistband of his jeans, unbuckled the supple, old belt, unzipped the zipper, and yanked the jeans down past his buttocks, down his thighs, past his knees, to bunch around his shoes at his feet.
Next to come off were his new, white, little briefs. At that point, Aunt Violet sat down on the bench of an old, wooden picnic table, likely used by employees in nice weather for lunches and breaks. Garret was swiftly hoisted across and downward over her lap.
Unbeknownst to Garret, Aunt Violet had brought along the hard wooden hair brush in her purse. She took it out and commenced the first of many, sharp whacks to land across the centre of both of his cheeks.
The shock of the powerful impacts, against his bare bottom, out in the cold, took his breath away. For a brief moment, he was self-consciously nervous about someone seeing him being spanked, bare, outside.
After a half dozen smacks, his little bum was ablaze, on fire. By a dozen, he was calling out in yelps and cries of dire distress. By a dozen and a half, he was yelling, shouting out, in desperation and discomfort, before bursting out into helpless sobbing, full of regret and remorse.
He was quickly reduced to a naughty, quivering little boy, who did not want to obey his Aunts, to comply with what they told him he must do, and could not to do. He was no longer a teenage, young man, but a very bad, little boy who had earned himself a severe spanking.
Garret wriggled and writhed over his Auntie’s knee. As he did so, he suddenly realized, horrified, his young manhood was aroused and stiff.
Of course, it was purely an involuntary reaction to the stimulation cause by the pounding being delivered to his little rump and narrow thighs. Nevertheless, every time he writhed and thrashed around on his Auntie’s legs, his young bone rubbed against her skirt and knee, asserting its own concerns and demands as it grew and throbbed.
He cried, and apologized, stunned and pleading for mercy, but also for an early stoppage. Besides wanting a halt to the painful punishment, he was also fearfully terrified of ejaculating over his Aunt’s knees, and in public!
His pleas seemed to be unheard or unheeded by his two Aunts. That was when he heard Aunt Iris advise him the immediate goal was a red, sore fanny, but the long term goal was for him to listen, obey, and conduct himself according to what they told him, and in with pre-cautious safety.
Garret was squalling, crying heavier sobbing tears, in a younger, boyish-pitched voice. His desperation eclipsed all other concerns about embarrassment and observation. The only thing he wanted was an end to the spanking before he lost control and climaxed.
Yet, as much as it hurt, and he hated the mounting discomfort on his rump and thighs, it also had a different feeling at that moment, a good feeling mixed in with the pain. As the painful hurt increased, so strangely did the good feeling increase in a weird way.
How could that be?! The flustered, upset boy wondered. It was a spanking, and spankings hurt, are supposed to hurt, not feel good.
At that instant, Aunt Violet reached down under the slim, slight boy, grasping his hard tool in her hand and squeezing it very hard. Garret shrieked with fear, shame, pain from the brush continuing its searing smacks on his bottom and thighs, but also with craving need and desire.
I am about to finish your spanking for now, Garret, but don’t think it’s over. You’re getting
the rest when we get home, unless you continue disobeying here, in which case you’ll find a repeat of
this, but in the store! Do you understand, young man?!
Garret squealed his affirmative response, promising through his weeping,
I will, I’ll listen to
you, Auntie. I will obey, I promisssss!
As Violet quickly released the young, boyhood stick, Garret inhaled deeply, frightened of what almost broke past his self-command. He was so close, he truly wanted to let go, topple over the line; but thankfully he did not.
Iris reached down and tugged the light boy up off her sister’s lap. Garret was gently stomping around with his hands plastered on his throbbing sore bottom. His bobbing young soldier was standing up, awaiting further progress. It did not come.
Get re-dressed, Garret! Iris barked at him. He bent over, fumbling for his briefs, to stuff
his stiffy down into them, before pulling his jeans back up to scrape over his inflamed, spanked thighs
Now, we are going to finish our shopping here today, and you will behave, youngster. You do not
leave us, go out of our sight. Understand.
Garret eagerly nodded his head in agreement. Taking hold of his very thin arm, the led him along back into the Calvin Klein shop. When they completed their shopping there, they went on to the Nike shop, J Crew, and others.
It was after 6 p.m., when Iris and Violet Doyle drove their car, with their teenage, nephew-son, and a trunk full of packages, back home. Iris told Garret to go to is bedroom, take out all the things they had bought him, and lay them all out on the bed.
She and Violet began a hasty supper, and 40 minutes later, Garret was back in the kitchen, helping to set the table. After dinner, he helped clean up, then accompanied Violet back to his bedroom.
There on his bed were placed all of the many things he had received by purchases that day. Violet began by explaining to him to group similar things together, e.g., underwear and socks, shorts and t-shirts, dressy shirts and new pairs of jeans.
Garret scurried around his room, reclassifying his gifts as instructed by his Aunt. She left him after directing him to put everything away, get into bed, and call them when he was ready for them to see him into bed for the night.
Downstairs, she joined her sister, Iris, who commented on the great shopping success they had, and on the unfortunate, but necessary lesson Garret had received earlier.
Suddenly, they heard the voice of their nephew-son calling out,
Aunt Iris! Aunt Violet! I’m in
bed! Come tell me g’night! The two sisters smiled at each other as they stood up and walked quickly
to the boy’s bedroom.
They leaned down, each one kissing Garret, and him leaning forward to reciprocate.
good little boy! Pleasant dreams. See you in the morning, the bid him goodnight.
Turn over now, and go right to sleep, child, Iris instructed, and Garret immediately flipped
over onto his face and chest. As they turned out the light and were leaving, he called out in a young,
Thank you, ah, very much, Aunt Iris, Aunt Violet, for getting me the clothes and things for school
and sports. I really appreciate it very much.
You’re welcome, Garret, they both responded.
I love you, Aunt Violet and Aunt Iris, he added.
We love you too, Garret. Good night now.
G’night, the boy’s voice sang his reply.
Once he was alone in his bed, in the dark bedroom, he spread out in his bed, on his face and stomach, his legs sprawled apart. His mind instantly reverted to the bare-bottomed spanking he’d gotten outside the Calvin Klein shop, over his Aunt’s knee.
That recollection sped him along to remembering the boner he had sprouted during the spanking, and, in turn, to the memory of his Aunt’s touch on it that almost tore down the boundaries of his youthful self-control.
He swiftly slid his briefs down his thin, little legs, and kicked them off his feet. In just a matter of minutes, he no longer held back, crossing the line, going over the edge, to finally achieve what he really had wanted all the while he was struggling fiercely to hold back across his Aunt’s lap.
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